you light the spark in my bonfire heart

you are so loved 🫶🏼

Happy 10 year anniversary to this fic!!! I smashed it out days after the film's release, and I got to make so many friends in this fandom because of it <3

body language masterlist

a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

550 words to say instead of fuckin said

638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

Observations; eddie/venom, 1.6k, sfw, movie-verse, anne pov

Eventually, Eddie taps his chest and says, “Come on, V. Get back in me before Anne sees you.”

Anne takes a breath. Then she walks into the living room and says, “She already did.”

Their plans are for seven, but Anne lived with Eddie once. She’s not the least bit surprised when he shows up at seven-nineteen, pink-faced and breathless, looking suspiciously like someone who nearly wiped out doing sixty-five down Filbert Street on a motorcycle.

“Sorry, sorry.” He offers Anne a sheepish smile and a serviceable bottle of pinot noir. “I—sorry.”

They do an awkward little dance in the doorway; Eddie leans in for a hug as Anne shuffles back to let him pass, and then she reaches for him as he starts shrugging out of his jacket. He huffs out a laugh, and so does she. He’s wearing a dark button-down she gave him as a birthday gift—for a birthday they celebrated as a couple—and she has a quick flash of emotional vertigo as she takes the wine and points him to the couch.

“Sit,” she says. “Luckily for you, Dan’s running behind too.”

Mr. Belvedere slinks out from behind the coffee table to sniff cautiously at Eddie’s boots. Eddie asks, “Everything alright?”

Anne says, “Yeah,” and waves her hand. “He’s just caught up at the hospital.”

“That happen a lot?”

She knows he doesn’t mean that the way it sounds. But—coming from her ex-boyfriend—it sounds really bad. Jealous in a way she doesn’t think Eddie is anymore. At least he has enough self-awareness to wince.

“Sorry. I didn't—uh.” He ducks his head and scratches his jaw. “I just—how’s work?”

“Really?” Anne asks, cocking an eyebrow. “Mediocre save. Six out of ten.”

That’s a deep… dock.

by Penzilla