# I LOVE YOU LIKE AN ALCOHOLIC
[c! Schlackity, toxicity, tw]
It was such a strange feeling. The pure, unadulterated pleasure of having the goat throw him around like this, the feeling of having his body destroyed so utterly, it was driving him to tears. He had ruined himself for him, used his shapeshifting powers to become his perfection, got his piercings done all for him, and here he was, giving him everything a boy could ever want, his petite frame limp as a ragdoll as his calloused hands played around with him like he was nothing but that. So the juxtaposition was so awful when it came he felt like he was being torn to pieces. This obsessive beauty filling him, the addiction, the heat rush that /hurt/ like a burning star, suddenly cut through by that cold emptiness, the fire burning out leaving a melted, gaping hole in his chest, when he felt this lover - no, no, not a lover, a confidant of sorts, but never a lover - this confidant of his say the name he knew had really been on his lips the whole night. And so he just lag there, listening to that call a few more times as he finished, each time more disgusted at the fact that Quackity wasn't his true love than the last. And he just lay there. Thinking. A tear rolled down onto the already soaked pillow as he waited for it to all be over.
