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#and yet there was still that one obligatory commenter that complained about me only posting on AO3
muffinlance · 11 months
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Hey just in case you haven’t heard fanfiction.net has been taken down (it’s still accessible as m.fan fiction.net and www.fanfiction.net) but this indicates that it’s days are numbered. So please can you ask all your followers to download/slash archive all of their favourite fics or just as many fics as they can in general. Thanks in advance.
FF is a trash fire which I am sticking my hands into rescue fics
Edit: Posting this less for this specific issue than the general "FF is a trash fire that's being barely maintained, if you have favorite fics there then backing them up is a good idea" vibe
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soundwavefucker69 · 3 years
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I’m just going to post this comment I left on books haunted here so you all know what happens and why there are no more updates. Sorry to everyone who genuinely enjoyed my time in bnha, but I’m done. Maybe I’ll come back, maybe I won’t, but I’m genuinely sorry to everyone who really enjoyed my bnha fics. 
I'm going to preface this by saying I'm absolutely having a terrible fucking day, and I'm being toxic, and maybe you deserve this, and maybe you don't, but I don't really care, because my job has not paid me in a month, rent is due, I'm dealing with being part of the frontline workers dealing with this clusterfuck of a pandemic with literally two weeks of training, and you caught me on a really, really fucking bad fucking day.
First of all, these comments are exactly why every fucking fan of this goddamn, cursed, fucking horrifying fic that has made me more stressed than it has made me happy is exactly why none of you who never fucking paid attention in english class are never going to get to finish it. I'm wasting half a degree in creative writing I can't even finish because of money on this goddamn fic. Which I wrote for free, by the way. You didn't have to leave this comment. You literally didn't, and if you took the time to read through the comments, you would see that I get these comments all the goddamn time and maybe, maybe you would understand that you shouldn't have said it. Allow me to explain the concepts of foreshadowing and proper plot progression, since I am never going to finish this fucking fic because y'all could not be patient long enough to see the story play out the way I intended it to finish. Here is your obligatory spoiler warning, I fucking guess. Whatever.
The universal law in LOTR is that the ring served its own master, who was its creator, and it was created to fulfill his deepest desires. That's it. That's what it was for, that's what it was created to do, and it did everything to fulfill that one purpose in life. You can argue the semantics with me, what it was for, but that was my authorial translation of the text, and it's not entirely wrong. The ring only serves one master, and its master is who created it. It influenced the people around it to bring its masters closer to what Sauron truly wished. It was a tool to reach what Sauron truly wanted, and that is an immutable fact.
Izuku, prior to receiving the ring, was doomed to a life of obscurity, where he could never engage in the dreams that he had. He was meant to live a life quirkless, in some podunk job where he couldn't enact the kind of change he wanted to do, unable to help people to his fullest ability, feeling like he cheated his way into the position he was in, because he was a liar. He wanted to be true to himself, as true as he could, but he also wanted to protect the people he cared most for, and not fall prey to the idea that he could become a god. He wanted to be a good fucking person, but he couldn't settle the concept of being a good person without using his power to help people. This is important. He never lashed out at the abuse he received, though he dearly wanted to, never set healthy boundaries that helped him and his guardians, because he understood the importance of their secrecy, never allowed himself to show his true feelings, even though he dearly wanted to. He was miserable.
After Gremlin showed up, his personality changed. Just a bit. He was still a good person, but he started letting his feelings be known. He started lashing out over his frustrations, started objecting, even told Katsuki off. And then the sludge villain happened, and he made a choice he would have NEVER made prior to Gremlin entering his life. He revealed himself. And then, rather than reporting him to the government or encouraging Izuku to remain in secrecy, rather than let him enter the support department, Nedzu blackmailed his family into allowing him to enter the hero course. Katsuki, rather than lash out at Izuku for being a liar, accepted him and told him exactly what he needed to hear, which was that he could have his cake and eat it, that it was possible, that finding a happy medium was fucking possible. These are both out of character decisions and reactions. Nedzu is required to uphold the law, and Izuku is breaking the law. Snipe, a teacher and a pro hero who is directly under Nedzu's purview, is breaking the law. These are immutable facts as well, and Nedzu just threw his lot in with a kid he doesn't know, can't possibly trust, and helped him to continue to break the fucking law, and even set him up to continue to break the law for the rest of his fucking life while in a position of power over real, actual people.
These were deliberate choices made by me, and maybe I made it too obscure, but I was directly leading to a plot that revealed all of this, where these decisions would be called into question. I wasn't fucking finished.
The ring is not fucking nerfed. The ring is functioning exactly as it was intended: influencing the people around Izuku to put him in a position where he can fulfill his fucking dreams, just like it was intended to do for Sauron. The objects Izuku withdraws from books change to fit in the fucking universe he resides in. Izuku is ALARMINGLY fucking overpowered with Gremlin, and I laid out the context clues for you all to fucking see. But I'm probably not going to finish this story, because it can be really, really, really fucking shitty as fuck to lay out a story and spend hours agonizing over how to make a reveal believable, but pleasantly shocking enough to still make people gasp as everything makes sense, and not even fucking get to the big reveal and everyone keeps coming in with their big nerd dicks to wave around and slap in your face. I know exactly what I'm fucking doing, thank you kindly. I know my own interpretation of the source material, and I know the source material. I made deliberate choices to lead to here, and everyone told me I was wrong and awful and don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, that I'm not a big enough nerd, that I should be fixing all of these problems that literally do not fucking exist because I had not gotten to the point where everything was supposed to make sense and y'all couldn't even wait for me to get there. I rage quit this fandom over this fucking fic, because too many people kept complaining about how cool it was, but that it wasn't the right amount of nerdy for them, or that I wasn't including this thing or that thing, or that Gremlin was done wrong, or that I just was some kind of fake fucking fan when Izuku wasn't even fucking at UA yet. If you want a fic with a reveal in the first fucking chapter and not thoughtful character development and plot progression, I can recommend some great finished fucking works and one shots that might satisfy that itch.
Sorry I took everything out on you, but I have had it up to here with this fucking fandom and these fucking comments. I'm not going to orphan it. I don't want it picked up by someone who is just going to rip it to shreds and destroy everything I did, because I did enjoy it while it lasted, and I really did find a lot of joy at first. But I'm not updating anymore. I'm over it. I don't care that I maybe need a thicker skin if I'm going to post online, or that I'm too fucking sensitive, or whatever. I really don't care. I'm done. Have your spoilers, have your comment that I'm sure you didn't think through before you posted it, but yeah. That was where this was going, and I'm sorry I didn't make the fucking foreshadowing clearer, or that I wasn't enough of a fucking nerd to write this, or that I bastardized tolkien and fucking ruined the ring of power. Sorry. I'm done now.
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cobwebsaint · 4 years
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BLEASE DO THE SPIT FIC
AHHHH YES alright obligatory NSFW warning and link to the original if anybody is compelled to leave some sweet kudos or a comment or anything. The garbage stays under the cut for the sake of your eyeballs and your dash.
[Before we even get into the meat of this mf let it be known I was BULLIED into participating in the Slipknot body fluids garbage trend and I still hate it but god was it all downhill from there. Y’all know who you are. Bitch.]
Corey really did have a hard fucking time shutting up, and it almost always got him in some level of shit. After getting the shit kicked out of him at bars and parties and shows approximately three trillion times, you would have thought he’d learned his lesson. 
He did not. 
[I have never spoken a word that was not true. The Corey Taylor gremlin is just an obnoxious big mouthed creecher. He cannot help thise.]
The man had no off button. He knew it, everybody else knew it— it was just something they all had to live with. Jim especially. Jim signed on for this bullshit every single day.
That was his own fault.
[Ah yes, the birthplace of what is now known as the domestic nightmares AU. I promise I’m actually gonna write it. I have a whole sandbox doc. But point is they’re stupid and they’re gross and they’re boyfriends.]
He was off on some godforsaken tangent again about nothing in particular, which Jim had tuned out a good ten minutes ago. Sometimes he felt a little bad about how easy it’d become to turn Corey to white noise, but then he caught something about what Ted Bundy did right or pounding back all the Kool-Aid at Jonestown (“It’s Flavor-Aid, James.”) and decided it wasn’t such a terrible thing after all. Some things were just better left alone. Letting Corey babble while Jim mindlessly twisted his fingers through his curls was a pretty good option in Jim’s book.
Of course, that was all up until Corey inevitably realized he was being ignored and made it a point to get the spotlight back. 
[In which Jim shares the same emotion towards Corey and his Sagittarius center of attention disease as the rest of us.]
Jim shifted away from the finger that was jabbing him hard in the ribs, pulling a face and looking down at Corey who had propped himself up on his chin, laying on Jim’s stomach. “What’d I do this time? Jesus.”
“You better be thinkin’ about something real fuckin’ important.” 
[Bold of him to assume Jim is experiencing thoughts at all tbh.]
“Oh yeah. Daydreaming about the day you’re finally able to sit and shut up for more than ten seconds.”
[Aren’t we all.]
Corey narrowed his eyes, punching Jim in the side, satisfied with the “Ow!” he earned in response. “You fuckin’ prick. You don’t get to complain.”
“I get to complain the most. Nobody else sitting here listening to you talk about the logistics of having a conjoined twin, y’know. I’ve earned that right fair and square, dude.”
“What, you’re telling me you haven’t thought about how you’d—”
“No.”
“Bullshit.”
[Just in case you were wondering, (you probably weren’t) the gremlin is thinking about how you’d fuck with a conjoined twin.]
Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he still couldn’t hide the dumb little smirk that wanted to tug at the corners of his lips. “God, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 
Corey started up again and Jim immediately cut him off, reaching over to clap a hand over his mouth. “Ah! Don’t. Just. Shut up.”
[Jim: asks that question
Corey: starts telling his entire life story for the sixtieth time that week]
Corey batted Jim’s hand away, pushed himself up, crawling in close enough to swing a leg over Jim, straddling his hips. He leaned in, probably half a millimeter from Jim’s face, hands planted at either side of his head, curls cascading down around him. He was still pretty even when he was being a bastard and it was total bullshit. 
[You’re just mad your dick won’t you stay mad at him, James.]
“Make me.” 
Jim snorted a laugh. “Just say you want me to choke you out and be done with it.”
“Nah, that’s you. ‘Sit on my dick and strangle me, it’ll be great.”
“Don’t make me out to be the fuckin’ pervert when you’re the one begging me to step on your balls,” Jim retorted, barely even batting an eye. 
Corey sat up a little, leering down at Jim and running his tongue over his teeth. Eventually he just resigned to it. “Fair. But you’re still gross.”
[Points were made. There ain’t no winning here lbr.]
“Mhm. Right.” Jim reached up, threading a hand messy through Corey’s hair to bring him into a kiss. “You done bitching yet? Can I go back to only kinda hearing the crazy shit that comes out of your mouth again?”
“Hell no,” he said, shaking his head for that extra touch of dramatic emphasis. “Do you even know who you’re talking to? If you weren’t the size of a goddamn skyscraper I’d swear you just crawled out of whatever pit you came from.”
“Maybe I’m dumb, but I’m not that dumb. The great big mouth will never be silenced.” Jim giggled, bringing a knee up to knock Corey over beside him. He rolled over, pinning him down instead. “Y’know, except maybe when you’ve got a dick shoved in your face. Still making noise, but at least you’re not fuckin’ talking.”
Corey got a look on his face like he’d just reinvented the wheel, squinting his eyes up in a shit-eating grin, and Kill Bill sirens started going off in Jim’s head. No. Nope. We are under attack. This couldn’t be anything good. 
“Okay, but just consider— AND HEAR ME OUT, OKAY?” Corey cut in, watching the idea of interrupting him again flicker through Jim’s head. “What about two dicks? I bet I could fit two dicks in my mouth.”
Well. Huh. Maybe that did have Jim some sort of interested. He sat back a little, looking Corey up and down. “…You have my attention.”
“Listen, I know this chick and—” 
Jim had to laugh, ‘cause Corey thinking he was actually gonna share had to be the funniest goddamn thing to happen to him all week. He didn’t consider himself the jealous type. Maybe a little possessive sometimes. But he had to keep a tight leash on Corey Todd “Himbo” Taylor. Him being certified Awful was what got them into this mess in the first place. Jim just had a bad habit of catching feelings. Whatever, clearly Corey was more than okay with it.
[Yes I did use the word himbo in this fic and no I do not accept criticism. Also a bit of lore is that Corey essentially annoyed the absolute dick out of Jim until he was about ready to commit a murder all as an elaborate plan to get a date.]
“Nope, try that again.”
“Alright, what about Mick or—”
“Is that supposed to be better?” 
Corey groaned, punching Jim in the shoulder. “Why you gotta ruin all the fun? Can’t a dude get his face fucked and not get a bunch of shit for it?”
“Never said you couldn’t,” Jim mused. “But if you think I’m gonna let anybody else have that kind of satisfaction, you’re dead wrong dude. I’m the only one around here who deserves it. Take it or leave it.” 
Corey cocked his head to the side, staring Jim down like he was supposed to take him seriously. Like Jim didn’t already know the answer. Like he didn’t know that Corey was physically incapable of turning down the chance to get his shit rocked, whether it happened the way he wanted it to or not. 
“Fuck you. Fine.”
[Okay so this WHOLE FIC was deadass prompted by that stupid fucking picture of Corey with his fist shoved in his mouth skdjfg. So I was talking to Marina and I was like. Y’know. I bet he could fit two dicks in there. And I just kinda went buck wild. Jim was supposed to split the little bastard’s lips and shove a dildo in there too but that. Did not happen. Maybe someday.]
Content, Jim rolled off of him, got to his feet, and made a ‘well?’ gesture. Corey didn’t move, instead shooting him a look. A challenge.
Still playing that game. Alright.
Jim reached down, twisting Corey’s hair around his fist and dragging him towards the edge of the bed. “Really gonna be stubborn when you’re the one who’s begging for it?” 
“You want it all for yourself, you’re gonna have to work for it.” 
[Sir that is not how this works.]
Smug little fucker. Corey had put him through the same act at least a billion times now but somehow he still managed to find a way to get Jim to want to smack the ego right out of him. 
Corey slipped off the bed, knees buckling without (a ton of) struggle when Jim pushed him towards the floor. He tilted Corey’s head back, getting a firm grip on his jaw. 
“How you manage to be so cute while being such a pain in the ass still fuckin’ blows my mind, y’know.”
A giggle bubbled up in Corey’s chest. He strained against the hand in his hair, trying to wriggle his way out of Jim’s hold. He knew it wasn’t gonna happen, but hey— couple fingerprint shaped bruises never hurt anyone. 
[I didn’t realize how weird the wording here was until after I posted it ngl. Like. He’s angling Corey’s head back by pulling his hair and holding him there by holding his jaw. Just. To clear that up. I’ve been obsessing over this one little line for months cuz it’s a little weird but I Am Not Changing It.]
“You love it. Wouldn’t have put up with me this long if you didn’t. It’s okay, Peach. You can admit I’m hot shit.”
“Shut up, would you?” Jim tugged back, drawing a surprised noise out of Corey that only served to melt back into a laugh. “Jesus.”
“Come on, don’t be so touchy. I’m right.” Corey slid a hand up the inside of Jim’s thigh, pressing his palm into him and grabbing his already half-hard cock through his sweats. “If I’m not, then explain this away. Pavlov ain’t got shit on me.”
Nah. Nope. That was more than enough out of him. Jim wrenched Corey’s hand away, taking his hands off him just long enough to shove his sweats and boxers down and free his cock. “Open. And hands to your fuckin’ self.”
[SEE HE JUST MAD HIS DICK ENTERS THE CHAT EVERY TIME COREY’S BEING A LITTLE BITCH.]
Thankfully, that was the one thing that Corey didn’t try and fight. He leaned his head back, opened his mouth, and locked his gaze with Jim’s. Stupid pretty blue eyes practically sparkling, knowing damn well he got Jim good. Fuck. Asshole couldn’t turn it off for a second, could he? 
Jim grabbed him, holding him in place as he guided his dick into his mouth. Warm and wet and fucking perfect as always. This little shit was gonna give him a heart attack some day, he just knew it. 
He started off slow, watching Corey melt into it. Eyes fluttering shut, cheeks hollowing out around him, hands clasped behind his back. Tongue laving expertly around the head of Jim’s cock like it was second nature. Hot shit was a stretch, but hot was a different story. 
“Fuck yeah, that’s good,” Jim groaned, hand anchored on the back of Corey’s head as he rolled his hips into his mouth. “All bark and no bite. Think it would be easier to just say you wanna get used like a toy. Least you’re good at it.”
Corey made a pleased noise, leaning into it, taking Jim’s length deeper. He opened his eyes again, looking up at Jim through his lashes and whining softly. A plea for more. More ‘cause he was a greedy little bastard. 
Jim took the cue, snapping his hips forward, tightening his grip. He heard Corey sputter around him a bit, which only served as further encouragement. He fucked into his mouth in quick, deep thrusts, Corey practically going limp before him. The heat, the way Corey pressed his tongue against the underside of his cock, face contorting a bit every time Jim’s dick hit the back of his throat. Jim was already wrapped tight around the axel but god, it was too pretty of a sight to give up this early in the game. 
Even if it was giving Corey exactly what he was trying for— a happy Corey was a quiet Corey.
Or quieter.
[Ha.]
When Jim let up to let Corey catch his breath, he probably lost about half his brain cell count. Drool running down his chin, lips pink and swollen, crystal eyes brimming with tears— Corey looked practically ethereal. Like, fuck wings and halos. This was as close to angelic as someone could get and Jim fucking loved it. Shit. 
[He do be pretty tho. Also idk where the sudden religious imagery came from but like. I sure did stick with it huh. Whatever it works.]
Jim dragged his thumb over Corey’s bottom lip, breaking strings of spit that connected with his cock. He hooked his thumb under Corey’s chin, slipping two long fingers in his mouth and pressing down on his tongue. 
Corey closed around them, running his tongue between them before bobbing his head and taking them deeper. He moaned around the digits, shifting on his knees a little like he wanted to buck his hips into something that wasn’t there.
Satisfied, Jim retracted his fingers, rubbing them over Corey’s lips and chin and smearing spit across his face while he caught his breath. Jesus fucking Christ. He was feeling more and more like a ticking time bomb by the minute here, and Corey’s stupid obnoxious pretty blissed out face was doing him no favors. 
[At this point I was like. Hmmm. How many different ways can I ruin this stupid little rat’s entire career. This is really just the everything but the kitchen sink fic.]
No matter how good and perfect and fucked up and fucking slutty he looked down on his knees, taking whatever he was given, that didn’t change a damn thing. He was still the same terrible little demon that Jim knew and loved for some godforsaken reason. 
[THEY’RE IN LOVE!!!]
“‘S that it?” he rasped out, in between heavy breaths he knew he was gonna need to savor.
Nevermind. Jim was gonna kill him. Like, absolutely decimate him. 
[I WANT THAT TWINK OBLITERATED]
He thrust back into Corey’s mouth, finding the same fast pace as before. Haphazardly pulling Corey into it, meeting every rut of hips, making him struggle more this time around. Jim watched him squirm, nails biting into his wrists, but they stayed where they were locked behind his back. 
This was that sweet spot, where Corey felt filthy and used and amazing all wrapped up into one. Sure, he could ask for it, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun. All the back and forth was part of the game that made the end goal that much sweeter. And yes, he was terrible and loved every minute of bugging the shit out of Jim until he finally snapped. It got him the attention, didn’t it?
[I started to veer off into this sort of perspective shift thing and I didn’t know how I felt about it while I was writing it but honestly I really like how it made the story flow.]
He was worlds away for a while, reduced to nothing more than a hole to be filled while Jim fucked his face. All moans and sloppy wet sounds, soaking up every little sensation— stingy pain of his hair being pulled, jaw starting to ache, cock fucking throbbing and leaking a wet spot into his boxers every time he got the least bit of friction. Jim thought Corey was an angel and this was most definitely heaven. 
Of course, Corey only stayed on cloud nine for so long. Jim hit the back of his throat again, holding him there this time. He only gagged a little at first, tears spilling over onto his cheeks. Corey’s eyes shot open and he whimpered around him, but Jim stayed put.
The second wave was worse, and he finally had to unclasp his hands and bring them up to grip onto Jim’s hips— his sign to let up.
Jim let go and pulled back just in time for a full body wretch to hit Corey. He doubled over, bracing himself on his hands, thick, stringy deepthroat spit dripping from his mouth. He hung his head, breathing hard, and Jim felt his cock twitch. 
[Don’t @ me I had just been subjected to not one but SEVERAL puke fics and I was feeling an emotion okay.]
“Oh fuck me,” Jim said out loud, because Jim was a gross horny fool. 
He knelt down, laying his hand against Corey’s cheek, making him lift his head again. He looked positively ruined. Eyes red, cheeks tear stained, whole mouth wet and well used, the front of his shirt starting to go sheer from all the drool. God, all Jim wanted to do was kiss him.
“Good?” Jim asked, and Corey gave a weak nod. Jim moved in a little closer. “Hey, talk to me. You okay? Need to stop?”
“Yeah, ‘m good,” Corey sighed, leaning his forehead against Jim’s. “Don’t wanna stop, no. Was into it, trust me.” He let go of a gravelly laugh, “Just gimme a minute.”
Jim nodded his head, running his thumb along the curve of Corey’s jaw. “Fuckin’ pretty, y’know.”
[Oh no they’re sweet.]
“Peach?”
“Mmm?”
“Shut up. Don’t just look at me like that. You look dumb.”
[Nvm.]
Jim rolled his eyes, “You shut up.” He curled his hand around the back of Corey’s neck and closed what little gap was left between them with a kiss. He tasted like cigarettes and salt and skin and it made Jim’s head spin and his stomach do backflips. Which I mean, was definitely due in part to the fact that his dick was cocked and ready to blow like a shotgun straight through the wall next to him. But Corey— the feel of his skin and the taste on his tongue and his weight on top of Jim when he was being dumb and pretty and needy and refusing to be anything less than the center of attention— well, that never helped Jim’s case. 
Soft little whimpers from Corey were muffled into Jim’s mouth, hands sliding around his broad frame and hiking his shirt up so Corey could trace over the curve of Jim’s spine. Little bit of contact, closeness that was lost when it wasn’t Jim balls deep inside of him. This was okay though. More than okay, fucking fantastic. Good to the point that Corey didn’t even try and fight when Jim pulled away. Especially not when he tugged his head back, making him look up at the ceiling as he licked a stripe from the very bottom of his chin, back to his lips. He kissed him again, like he needed to be attached at the mouth to survive, tongue easily gaining entry into Corey’s mouth and pulling more throaty moans from him. 
[Jk they’re still gross and in love.]
It was over all too quickly, Corey making a sound in protest as Jim pulled away from him and rose to his feet again. Jim yanked his head back, catching his lower lip with his thumb, mouth falling open once more. Before the thought even had the chance of passing through Corey’s mind of what the hell— Jim was bent over him, holding him in place as he spit into his mouth. Or rather back into his mouth. 
Oh. Shit. Alright. 
[Again, everything but the kitchen sink here boys.]
Several emotions flashed across Corey’s face before he settled in at acceptance, staring up at Jim with big, glazed over eyes as he towered over him.
“You want more?”
Corey nodded a very enthusiastic yes.
“Gonna be a good boy for me?”
That was met with some hesitation, knit brows and a shrug of the shoulders like he was weighing his options. Jim just shook his head. “If you’re gonna be a shit, then you can do it your damn self now. Prove you deserve it.”
Corey shot him a look, but he didn’t exactly try and argue. Wouldn’t be the first time he sucked a dick to make a point. Definitely not the last either. He sat up on his knees, wrapping his hand around Jim’s length, working him in slow, even strokes as he teased his tongue over the head. Jim about had an aneurysm from the looks of it and Corey couldn’t help but giggle. 
Jim knocked his knuckles against the side of Corey’s face. Not hard enough to hurt, but still enough to make him knock it the fuck off.
Stupid slut. 
[This still makes me giggle. Like you bap a fucking cat on the nose dksgdfj.]
Sucking the tip of Jim’s dick into his mouth, Corey gave a contented hum. He bobbed his head up and down, keeping pace with his hand, Jim lazily tracing his fingertips over the stubble on his cheeks. He mumbled a string of praise— ‘fuck yeah, baby’ and ‘so fucking good’ and ‘shit, just like that.’ Caught up and fucked up all over again. Corey Taylor was a bastard and Jim wasn’t about to give him up for a goddamn thing. 
Corey pulled off of him with a filthy ‘pop,’ wasting little time between then and ducking his head down to tongue at Jim’s balls. For what had to be the billionth time in the past ten minutes, Jim was briefly convinced he was going to leave this earth entirely. It was all he could do, to watch dumbly as Corey worked from left to right, sucking and moaning and swirling his tongue in just the right way to make Jim’s dick visibly twitch in his hand 
“Jesus fuck, baby.”
Jesus fuck, indeed. He was already seeing stars and he still hadn’t come yet. Here he was, giving the incentive of more when his knees were about to buckle. Who’s the jackass now?
[Me: writing oral sucks it’s always awkward and repetitive
Also me: stretches the oral to 5k]
Jim’s head fell back as Corey worked his way back up his length, running his tongue along the underside of it before damn near hilting him on his first try. He choked a little, pulling back to center himself before he tried again. Obscene sounds and lascivious moans filled the air, Jim’s eyes squeezed shut as he focused on the heat burning in the pit of his stomach. All he needed was a minute or two and to watch Corey’s eyes roll back in his skull to be pulled taut and ready to snap at any second. 
“Fuck me, I’m so close. Come on baby, don’t stop. Know you want it too.” Jim’s hand had found its way to the back of Corey’s head again, forcing him further down, finding that perfect rhythm again. Call it a sign of encouragement. Or something. 
Yeah, encouragement.  
Corey worked him as hard as he could, sucking and licking and slurping and swallowing him whole until the vibrations from one final groan around Jim’s cock brought all these sensations to a crescendo. Jim held him down as he came hard, spilling down his throat, swearing and gritting his teeth. Corey nursed him through, sucking him slow as Jim’s arms and legs turned to jello. Watching through his lashes as he tensed and moaned, breathing in sharp, ragged inhales until he finally had to shove Corey away ‘cause shit. 
Jim sighed heavily, pushing his hair back and out of his face, staring down at the stupid cocky look on Corey’s face. Were he able to form a coherent thought, he would have taken his ego down a notch— unfortunately, mentally he was still somewhere off in orbit. Without being entirely aware of his own actions, Jim was grabbing Corey by the collar and getting him back up off his knees. He shoved his hands underneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips studying inches of skin, the hair on his stomach, sides damp with sweat, every bump and imperfection before finally pulling the ratty spit-soaked tee over his head. 
[And to your left, you see Service Top Brain immediately taking control the second Jim no longer has enough brain cells to resist it.]
He pulled Corey to him, hands on his waist as he backed up to the bed, knees giving way when they hit the edge of the mattress. Jim hit the bed and laid back, bringing Corey down with him and directly into a kiss. Strong arms circled around Corey’s frame, bodies pressed snug, mouths melded together as one. Whatever post-nut trance Jim was in, it was perfectly fine by Corey. This was close and safe and comfortable and I mean, with the way Jim was rocking him against his stomach, you weren’t gonna hear much more than the sound of his brain cells popping like balloons ‘cause his dick was taking up all the blood flow. 
[They may be stupid but you gotta admit. They are pretty tender too.]
A high pitched whine that (it was safe to assume) was supposed words fell from Corey’s lips as Jim’s connected with the center of his chest. He had pulled away panting, working his way down— mouthing at Corey’s jaw, nipping at his earlobe, leaving a trail of hickeys down his neck. Maybe it had caught Corey off guard a little, not getting told off for being a shit and all, but any and all attention was welcome here with open arms. 
“Fuck, Jim c’mon,” he barely managed to gasp out. Forming sentences wasn’t about to be the first to go. He had a reputation to uphold here. “Better not start messin’ with me now.”
Teeth clinked against metal, Jim tugging on the ring through his right nipple and ripping all the thoughts straight from his brain for a moment. He swirled his tongue over the hardening flesh before biting down. Corey shivered and bit back a moan, pain radiating through him and twisting up in his gut. Like he wasn’t already prepared to implode as is. “Mother fucking Mary. Now you’re just making it a point to be a dick. Nobody likes a tease, Peach.”
[Also calling Jim peach is Corey’s thing in this universe. It’s gross. And soft. They’re the worst.]
Nothing. Not even an upwards glance. 
Corey wanted to scream. He wanted to slam his fist down on the bed, call Jim some new variant on ‘cunt,’ fight back, take control. But he also really didn’t want this to stop. He was so hard it fucking hurt and Jim had him right in the palm of his hand where he could barely keep his head straight and honestly? He was perfectly fine sitting right there. He was probably just missing some cue. Off by a beat and too whiny and stubborn to realize it. (Which he was. Corey never claimed to be smart. Especially not when his lizard brain was kicked into overdrive and all he could think about was getting split in half.) 
[He’s so STUPID. God. Bratty ass dumbass.]
While the idea was pretty appealing, he couldn’t even begin to collect the agency he’d need for any of that anyway. There was now a hand dangerously high up on his thigh, thumb tracing line where it met his hip, and there was no goddamn way he was gonna be able to focus on anything else. 
So Jim still did want him dead. Cool. 
“God baby, what do you want?” Corey whined, raking his nails over Jim’s chest, watching red marks appear in their wake. “I wasn’t even that bad. Did everything you wanted, barely even gave you shit. What, you want me to get you off again? ‘Cause I can do that. I’ll gladly do that if it gets you to quit fucking dragging me along. I’ll do all the work and fuck you myself if I gotta. Could smash my face into a wall and call me a soul sucking whore for all I care. Jesus Christ, just give me more.”
[YOU’RE SO CLOSE YET SO FAR BUD.]
Jim’s fingertips dipped into the elastic of Corey’s boxers, dragging across the front between his hips, just barely brushing against his cock before the waistband snapped back against his skin. Corey yelped, heels of his palms digging into Jim’s collarbones. He had no doubt Jim was thoroughly enjoying this, but the joke wasn’t all that funny anymore. Wasn’t very funny to begin with, actually. 
“Fuck me, Peach please. Please, I’ll do fucking anything. Just quit doing that.”
Suddenly Corey’s back was against the sheets again, Jim sliding back off the bed to tear his boxers down and toss them in some vague direction (he was only really going for away.) He nudged Corey’s legs apart and kneed back up between them, fingers curling around his cock. Corey’s hips immediately jerked up into the contact and he let out a hiss. Good god, he was so fucking sensitive he wanted to die. He made a noise that sounded more like a sob than anything, grabbing at Jim’s wrist. If he stopped he was going to scream but if he kept it up Corey was about to be launched into space and land on fucking Neptune. 
“Was that really so hard?” Jim questioned, and yeah. Maybe it was. Getting Corey to ask nice instead of being a colossal brat was like pulling teeth from an alligator. Fortunately for Jim, he was currently on a one way flight to the next realm. It was a little harder to keep all that up in the moment. 
Another “please” was all Corey managed— clearly asking for something else, something more— but Jim couldn’t just let him have that. 
“See, now you’re getting the hang of it!”
[Jim: See I can be an asshole too]
Corey snaked his arms around Jim’s neck, pulling him down to eye level. “Is it your goal in life to be a giant fucking pain in the ass?”
[Yes. That and buy a bike.]
“As much as it is yours, baby.” Jim laughed, nuzzling against Corey’s cheek. He mouthed little kisses against his jaw, slowly stroking him, pulling a frustrated growl from somewhere deep in his chest. 
He clawed at Jim’s shoulders, threading his hand through Jim’s hair and tugging back hard. More than anything, he was just trying to keep himself some semblance of centered. It wasn’t working very well. “Fucking hell. More, give me more. Give me your hands.”
Jim lifted his gaze, meeting Corey’s eyes, staring at him blankly. 
“Please.”
The grip around Corey’s cock let up and he groaned again at the loss of friction. It was gonna take next to nothing to make him fall apart. Callused fingers fingers slip up his torso and caught on his bottom lip, still kissed and swollen. “I’ll do that for you, but you might have to remind me how you earned it.”
Corey barely let him finish before he had his lips wrapped around two digits, working his tongue along them. He held onto Jim’s wrist, forcing them back and making himself gag hard. At this point, he didn’t care what it took. Besides, it was either keep his mouth busy or run it anyway. He flashed a look back up at Jim, batting his lashes and making sure to give him a little show before finally pulling off and kissing his fingertips. Is that wasn’t enough, then he didn’t know what the fuck would be.
And thank fucking buddha Jim’s mouth was enveloping his own just a moment later, one of his thighs being pushed back for a better angle and some leverage as Jim’s other hand slid between his legs. Slick fingers pressed against his entrance, drawing a pathetic noise from his throat, his legs twitching in eager anticipation. 
The first eased in, sunk home, and Corey could have sworn he saw the light in that moment. Glitter and gold and pearly gates, fluffy white clouds, and giant fucking bearpaw hands that were holding his entire fucking being in their palms. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that— Jim being that big. I mean sure, his dick alone could take out a whole city easily, but it was all of him. Limbs and chest and hips and hands. Oh good god, his hands. Say what you want about how dumb and awkward he was otherwise, but he always knew exactly what he was doing with his hands. 
[HE DO BE LANKY AND AWKWARD. Also I still can’t help but think of how weird his hands are. Like they’re so SMALL in proportion to the rest of him but they’re still HUGE. James what the fuck is that shit.]
 Corey moaned into the mouth locked with his own as Jim started to pump in and out of him, the stretch nearly impossible feeling for just one finger. Maybe it was that he was already desperate, ready to burst, that had him so beyond himself. Maybe it was just the fact that Jim knew exactly how to poke and prod to make him start to come apart at the seams. 
He started to relax more, lean into it (or as best as he could with the weight on top of him.) Steady chants of ‘yes, yes, yes, more, fuck’ swarmed around whatever little bubble they’d been encapsulated in. Corey practically had Jim in a chokehold, holding him down as close as he could possibly get, foreheads pressed together. Completely and totally consumed. 
Another finger worked inside him, curling and twisting and scissoring him open, making him flutter around them and writhe to find just the right— 
“There, there. Don’t you dare stop. Holy shit.” Corey cried out, arching up off the mattress, holding onto Jim for dear life. “So fucking good. Feels so fucking good.”
Jim brushed his fingertips against Corey’s walls again, hitting that sweet spot and eliciting another borderline embarrassing moan. “Yeah, that’s it. Not so tough like this, are you? Fight so hard to get what you want and you still come undone for me just the same. Real good when you want to be, y’know.”
Whatever Corey wanted to say came out in an incoherent mumble— something something for you and something something damn lucky. His orgasm was already twisting and burning in the pit of his stomach, and his was still only very loosely tied to this realm. Beyond taken and fucked up and he loved every minute of it. 
[Fighting to the very end, even with fingers in his ass. Just shut up already you stupid slut.]
He couldn’t take his eyes off Jim as he wormed his way out of his grasp, sat back, spread his legs a little wider apart. He leaned down, and Corey was vaguely aware of him spitting before he felt like he was being properly split in two. A third digit joined the other two. God, it was almost too much. Impossibly full and tight and overwhelming, all thanks to James and his inhumanely big hands that were surely going to be Corey’s cause of death here one of these days. 
Corey couldn’t even breathe now, squeaking out another little plea for more, honed in on Jim like a deer in headlights. He knotted his hands up in the sheets, finally able to roll his hips and fuck himself against Jim’s hand without him pinning him in place. The blood rushing through his ears still wasn’t quite loud enough to drown out Jim’s encouragement— “So good, so pretty, look at you, perfect little slut. All mine. Come on baby, let me see you come.” 
That alone was enough to make Corey’s eyes roll back in his head, but one last perfect angle of his hips was what finally sent him over the edge. He came so hard his vision went fuzzy, limbs giving out as he spilled over his stomach and cried out, “Oh god, fuck daddy.”
[THERE IT IS. One of the terrible influences who shall not be named popped into my DMs like “Consider: unnegotiated honorary in a moment of carnal horny and then Jim just straight up CACKLES” and I was like well. Guess That’s Getting Throw In The Pile Too.] 
There was a minute of blank, overwhelmed and far away and completely beyond himself. Jim milked him through it, still working his fingers in and out as the aftershocks made him twitch and whimper, until he started to come back down again. Actually, the only thing that snapped him back to the here and now was realizing that Jim was laughing. Not just laughing, giggling like a goddamn school girl. 
You had to be fucking kidding. 
Corey reached out, attempting to smack him but missing entirely. “Fuck’s so funny?”
“Daddy? Dude. You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding right?” Jim dissolved into another fit of laughter, eyes scrunched up in a big grin. 
“Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth now. You don’t get to hold the shit I say when I come against me.” Corey huffed, sitting up on his elbows and trying to scoot away. Unlucky for him, Jim was still big enough to lean over him again and still be eye level. 
He pushed Corey’s hair back, pressing a kiss to his lips with a deep chuckle. “Quit your whining. You alright?”
Corey rolled his eyes, collapsing with a sigh and (albeit begrudgingly) circling his arms around Jim’s neck. “Mmm, peachy. Just shut up and cuddle me, you fucking demon. And you tell no one about that.”
[ANYWAY. This fic took me like three wholeass months or something so I hope it was worth it. There’s also a coinciding playlist that goes with this beast if you click on the AO3 link back at the top. Thank you for reading this disaster.] 
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lassieposting · 3 years
Note
OTP CUESTIONS with
Mevolent/Vile 😌
Please💙
God, who are you anon, i need more people to talk about violent with me
1. Who said I love you first?
Mevolent, and he's the only one who will say it outright. Vile only says I love you on occasion, when one of them just almost died or Mevolent did something really special for him - and only when they're alone. On a day to day basis, Vile never says the big three. Vile says don't get killed. Vile says you look tired, come to bed. Vile says I brought you dinner and I missed you and let me kill them for you, because everyone he's ever said "I love you" to, he's lost.
2. Who laughs and kisses their partner on the cheek while their partner isn’t happy about something trivial to try and make them feel better?
Vile. Mevolent has a lot on his shoulders with the day to day running of an empire, so he's always got a dozen worries to think about. Vile considers these issues trivial and will often offer to kill whoever's weighing on his mind. He's pretty sure killing the right person would solve all Mev's problems and make him feel better. He's never met anything he couldn't kill.
(Mev in the background like....boy how tf are you gonna murder taxes????)
Occasionally it frustrates Mev that Vile doesn't take these issues seriously, but Vile is young and impulsive and has always used violence to solve his problems, and Mevolent likes him that way - that's why Vile won him the war. Counselling restraint and patience is what he had Serpine for.
3. Who cuddles up to the other after a long day at work, and this soon escalates to a playful pillow fight?
So neither of them are the pillow fight type, but the post-work cuddling is absolutely a thing. When Mevolent is in his office he is Working and doesn't like to be disturbed (not that that stops Vile wandering in and out when he's bored). But he's a workaholic so he'll often bring a stack of reports back to his rooms to read before he goes to bed, and Vile will come over and put his head in Mev's lap, his feet up on the other arm of the couch, and keep him company while he's reading, often with a book of his own. These two are masters of the comfortable silence.
4. What is something that they gave one another that has a lot of meaning?
They have matching tattoos. A small, unobtrusive sigil Mevolent got China to help him design, adapting from multiple sigils in old books to send a signal across long distances.
During the War, Mev and Vile would often end up on totally different continents leading forces against different sanctuaries. When they were just fucking, that was fine and Vile would keep him updated via regular written reports, but as they got more serious it started becoming a problem because, like, waiting weeks to find out whether or not your lover survived that last battle is stressful and distracting.
Most of the time, the sigils are barely visible, like a white ink tattoo. But when Vile touches his sigil, Mevolent's warms up and turns black, and vice versa. They used to use them to say, "We won and I'm alive," after a battle.
When peacetime began, it gradually evolved into just, "I'm thinking about you and I want you to know it," (or, just as frequently, "I'm horny and I want you to know it.")
5. How would one another describe their partner?
"My little spitfire."
"Pain in the arse." (Affectionate)
6. Who wraps their arms around their partner as they look them in the eyes and compliments them with a goofy smile?
Vile, usually when Mevolent is stressed out or worried about something. Mevolent has a lot more self-doubt than you'd expect, and he struggles a lot with the fear that maybe he's not worthy of the responsibility his gods have chosen him for, or that the "messages" he receives in his dreams were cryptic and maybe he's read the wrong meaning into them.
Vile doesn't give a fuck about Mevolent's gods. He's got a lot of faith in Mevolent - not religious faith, but faith in him as a leader and a stubborn bastard who gets shit done. Vile sees the world very differently to Mev, and that's reassuring when he's doubting himself.
I mean, he doesn't always phrase them very well - there's a lot of, "If you were incompetent, I'd have killed you already," type comments, but Mevolent knows what he's getting at. Vile trusts him, and believes he's capable, and Vile's approval isn't easily won.
7. Who loves saying ‘my wife’ or ‘my husband’ or ‘my spouse’?
Mevolent. They keep their relationship a secret for a long. Ass. Time. Vile is a heathen and while the war is ongoing, mev can't afford the scandal and the potential loss of allies or validity in the eyes of his followers. Vile is his friend and advisor, the nights they spend together are war meetings, he'll set the sense-wardens on any poor servant who happens to stumble upon them together in the early morning.
So when his control is established and he can finally be open about it? He's over the moon. They're still a fairly PDA-averse couple, but they finally get to go to events together and he can refer to vile as his lover and call him over by a nickname or endearment and not have to worry about what everyone will think.
8. Who always talks about how amazing their partner is when their partner isn’t there and they just light up with genuine love and happiness?
They don't really talk about each other like that. For a long time their relationship is Secret and pretty taboo, so while Mevolent will heap praise on Vile at fancy dinners, it's always for his bravery or tactics or quick thinking, the same things for which he'd compliment Vengeous or Serpine or the Diablerie. But Mevolent absolutely does light up when Vile walks into the room - he smiles, automatically. Val even notices it when Mevolent hears Vile coming to join in her interrogation, and she's met him once.
On Vile's side, the closest thing he has to a friend is probably Vengeous - they're both prickly career soldiers with some shared interests - and while they're not Close, they'll sometimes swap old war stories or play chess or cards together. They never really explicitly talk about Vile's thing with Mevolent, and Vengeous doesn't exactly approve, but he's also fanatically loyal and doesn't see it as his place to question his messiah. He does however give Vile a "you two should be careful, you're raising some eyebrows lately" heads up a couple times. Vile relaxes around Mevolent, his shadows will subconsciously reach out for him if he's stressed or unhappy or is trying to get his attention, Mevolent can make him laugh. People notice, and Vengeous' job is to pick up on any and all potential threats. But...warning Vile is the safer option. Vile's his equal, they can talk about things he'd never dare bring up with Mevolent.
9. Who loves it when their partner kisses them good morning?
Mevolent. Vile, like Skug, is frequently skittish and wary about being touched, especially if it's unexpected. But Vile, unlike Skug, is absolutely not a morning person. He'll wake around sunrise - by which time the fire in the grate will have burned down to embers - and pull the drapes around their bed to block out the rising sunlight, burrow his way into the warmth of Mev's arms, and press drowsy kisses down the line of his jaw. Mev usually wakes pretty early and like, technically he could be getting work done, but Vile will stay in his arms and go back to sleep for a couple hours given half a chance, so he's usually content to let him. He's very soft for the occasions when Vile seeks out affection.
10. Who shows the other how to balance a spoon on their nose?
Neither of them, they wouldn't see the point.
11. Who loves to pull pranks on the other? What type of pranks do they pull and do they pull their pranks off?
Vile lies through his teeth about what Mevolent looks like under the veil. The lies get more ridiculous as time goes by. He's hideously deformed. He has an extra eye in his forehead. He has no face at all, he's a vessel for the gods already. He turns to stone in the sun. There's just a gaping mouth full of teeth where his facial features should be.
Mevolent's face is Vile's version of the Octopus People story Skug tells Val.
"He's part mermaid, you know," he tells Vengeous one night over a game of chess, straight-faced and completely serious. "He wears the veil to hide his gills, and to disguise the fact that he blinks sideways. Like a fish."
All those stories Mevolent complains about in KOTW? That he's 12ft tall and eats newborns and whatnot? All courtesy of Vile. Mev is very tired. He'll spend an entire party networking and exchanging favours while Vile hides out upstairs drinking wine and being antisocial, and discover at some point mid-party that during his obligatory fifteen minute courtesy appearance the little bastard apparently started yet another ridiculous rumour, and he's just. Sigh. Thanks, V. At least you did something productive with your evening.
12. What is something small that they would randomly pick up for one another?
They used to bring each other souvenirs when they were in different countries during the war. Mevolent gets books. He's a voracious reader and has quite the library going of dusty old leather bound journals written in what Vile is fairly sure is blood. As the Necromancers' Death Bringer, Vile has pretty much unfettered access to any Temple library, anywhere in the world, so he usually finds something suitably massive and dolorous with tiny spidery handwriting for Mev to pore over for weeks. The resurrection pool he uses in KOTW came from an idea he got from a book Vile brought back for him during the war (which was not the part of "100 Creative Applications Of Necromancy" that Vile was hoping Mev would get enthusiastic about, but, you win some, you lose some).
Vile usually gets music, in one form or another, either sheet music or an instrument he enjoys or one Mevolent can play for him. He can't play too well himself anymore - Serpine broke all his fingers, and although they've healed since then, they still get stiff and sore and reaching chords isn't as easy anymore and he misses notes where his fingers just didn't make a stretch or didn't respond in time. So either Mevolent will play for him, or he'll play the chords while Vile plinks out the melody. It's relaxing for him.
13. Who is the one who can’t stop laughing when trying to tell a joke?
Vile. He's got an incredibly macabre sense of humour and he gets lowkey high on death energy, so he's a fucking nightmare to have at executions. He always has a bad pun or a quip and half the time, they're murmured right in Mevolent's ear and he can feel the little shit laughing behind his shoulder. Which like? Is fine for Vile, because nobody's looking at him. He can snigger himself silly behind his stupid fucking helmet and only Mevolent will hear him. But now Mevolent wants to laugh too and this is a Sombre Occasion and everyone is looking at him and he has to keep a straight face.
14. Who would plan the other a surprise birthday party?
Mevolent's birthday is an empire-wide holiday and usually involves like a week of festivities and social functions and networking, so he'd be very difficult to plan a surprise party for - he knows he'll get a massive bash every year. Vile's birthday also has guaranteed celebrations - it's NYE, so there's usually a big party going on regardless that ends in a massive firework display - but he tends to avoid social functions as much as possible, so he'll put in a fifteen-minute courtesy appearance and then escape upstairs, and his birthday is never like, openly acknowledged or mentioned at dinner or anything.
Mev is well aware that vile is the opposite of a social butterfly, so the kind of surprise he'd would plan for him is slipping away from the party early himself, so they can spend the evening tangled up together in the company of some fine wine and stolen vol-au-vents, and then watch the fireworks from their balcony.
15. Who picks the other person up when hugging their partner?
Like technically they're both capable of picking up the other one, Vile can and has dragged Mevolent's wounded ass off a battlefield before powered by sheer spite, but like 99% of the time, Mevolent is the one doing the lifting. Mostly it's to carry Vile to bed - either because he's dozed off on the couch and Mev is trying to be sweet, or because they boutta fuck and Vile lowkey likes a bit of manhandling.
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Text
A Letter To My Ex
Hey,
It’s been a while. I know I’ll comment on your posts from time to time. Send the obligatory “Happy Birthday” on Facebook. You are always cordial and respond. You won’t initiate, but you’ll respond. I like to pretend sometimes that this is because you’re still hurt, but I know it’s because you’ve moved on. I don’t know why it feels better for you to be hurting than for you to be moved on. We were so long ago that the idea of “us” feels like a whisper in a dark room. But with my other senses taken from me, my heightened awareness of the familiarity in the word “us,” obsesses over the concept of what “us” means. Or meant. I force myself to remember the bad. The fights. My instability. The anxiety. The unnecessary distrust. Your parents hated me. Or at least I thought they did. And maybe that’s the bulk of it. Because I was so deeply lost in the forest of my anxiety and depression that I was trying to ignore, and I was pretending I knew the trail through, I distrust every memory. I distrust myself. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe those moments were much smaller than they felt. And they probably were. But what does it matter now?
Your girlfriend is beautiful. You tell me she will be your wife. I believe you. I don’t want to, but I do. I try to be happy for both of you even though I know my feelings about the topic don’t matter to anyone. Sometimes I pretend that her and I share similarities, but that’s untrue as well. She has a career. Her smile is breathtaking. She seems surefooted and intoxicated by the thought of you. I wonder if she pretends to listen to you talk about cars for countless minutes while getting lost in the comforting blanket of your voice and mesmerized by the movements of your lips. I wonder if you pull away from her kiss to complain about her smiling against your mouth because her lips disappear. Do you guys go on long drives at night and talk about how small you feel underneath the stars? Does she inhale as deeply as her lungs will allow every time you wrap your arms around her as to not let one second of your essence flee? Do you watch lightening storms tangled together and get lost in the smell of rain while she thanks a divine being she doesn’t believe in that she met you?
Does she start to tremble and gasp for air when you fight for too long? Does she shout at you because you care for her too much? Does she change from being distant to incessantly needy so fast that you never know where you stand? Do you stare into her eyes begging for an answer only to see the person you once knew within her vanish? Does she hurt you because she doesn’t know how to suffer alone? Does she torture you with promises of a future and expectations you will never live up to? 
I know what I did. I tore your heart out and took pleasure in watching it writhe on the floor. I molded myself into your wishes and then melted into a storm you couldn’t control. This is all a distant memory to you now. A fleeting thought when someone brings up the school we used to go to. A scar that has long since been healed and covered with lessons and new experiences. Every inch of your skin that I kissed is now covered by the lips of another. I should be okay with that, yet something within me still itches for more. 
My sister married someone with the same name as you. Now you are referred to in my family as “my Alex.” The weight of the words on my tongue are comforting, but they taste foreign. When I left you something within me said it was temporary. I was leaving to experience the world, and then expecting you to be there at the end. I wanted you to wait quietly on the edge of the river. Cool water rushing over smooth rocks. My feet excitedly finding their way through the dangerous night air. Summer ran through our veins. I wanted it to freeze you. I needed to keep going through the waters and find what was waiting at the bottom for me. But in my determination I didn’t notice you walking along the bank, away from me. I told you to go, and so you did. 
I yearn for you. I yearn for 16. I long for the feeling of love kissing the tips of my fingers and adding color to my cheeks for the first time. I fall back to thoughts of you confessing you had told your friend I was ‘the one’ in a drunken stupor at the cabin. I miss the laughter that overtook me so entirely. Your smile. Running through sprinklers in our underwear. Kissing under the cover of darkness at the radio towers. My heart pounding as you snuck into my room through my window late at night. Climbing out onto your roof. Watching you messily scribble my favorite ice cream onto your bedside table. Falling asleep to the sound of you breathing and your eyes heavy with exhaustion over Skype. Waking up to cute messages you left in front of your webcam. Making eye contact with you during class through the window that connected our adjoining rooms. The surprise in your eyes when I kissed you for the first time. Sneaking away from prom to explore the empty building. Kissing in the stairwell as lightning cracked outside. When we found out that neither of us really wanted to go. 
I miss you. I miss the “us” that I used to know. Maybe I miss me when I was with you. Not the lost child who was scared and attacking the only sure thing she knew. I miss the freedom I had with you. Within us. We slept in different houses and different floors and it never mattered as long as we were falling asleep next to each other. I miss being excited about life. How constantly new everything was. I felt full with you.
All I know is that after 5 years my thoughts still seem to lead back to you.
Your truly,
Scrub
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