#why am I not more functional I should be!

[sketchalicious]

by god you understand

ramble under the cut i wanna geek out about this so bad lol

sorry to ramble a bit about the layton family, but their flaws in constantly trying to live up to this standard/deal with their main conflict is so interesting because you almost don't expect it from the children of layton of all things. like ,,, sure you'd understand the expectation, but like from an outsider standpoint it feels so strange, like youd think there should be some sort of proper maturity about it at least. at their core they really are like their dad though

im not gonna go on a tirade about how neglectful layton may be as a parent but they all have a common trait of going after some adventure rather than handling what's important. an example for layton is him going after katrielle's father despite there ,,kind of not really being a large benefit (and also generally not being in the picture anymore.) he's smart enough to understand that the pros dont outweigh the cons in possibly leaving katrielle completely alone, should something go wrong. if the canon considered alfendi, the same goes for him as well - neglecting the both of them for the sake of some fruitless adventure with the idea that it could possibly be righteous. those stakes are all for only one child, might i add.

outside of his kids though layton just has a huge problem with neglecting his main responsibilities - dude was never a detective but is very frequently treated to be like one, so much so to the point where his kin decided to take up that role. as a professor he put his job in jeopardy tons of times for the sake of adventure.

katrielle and alfendi neglect their main conflicts in their own ways. (i gotta replay mystery room to get a proper grasp at it so forgive me if this portion of the ramble is stupid lol,) the both of them are clearly at least a little bit tormented by the loss of layton, especially since it happened at such a young age. i feel like the both of them handle these emotions through some sort of escapism and dancing around the issue, though one is clearly more angry about it than the other.

katrielle is hopeful and sees her father in a better light, but wants so badly too to become her own person despite him. either way she misses him dearly. alfendi however is a lot more blunt about how he feels towards him. and i don't have a lot of proof regarding his opinion, that line of dialogue "forget hershel, I am layton" really gives me the feeling that he's not on good terms with layton. though i doubt he's addressing this anger properly with how infrequently layton is mentioned in-game.

all that said i do really like the idea of them having arguments about layton himself. the idea that katrielle is constantly defending their father while alfendi is trying to make her see him for what he thinks he is is SUCH an interesting thought. i do believe that they'd both be too emotional to have a genuine talk about it, and my personal headcanon is that they're apart solely because of this conflict (and also just arguments about who should "take his place," with katrielle probably winning by taking up the logo and the hat silhouette). but in canon i really don't think that's the case and that is greatly upsetting lmfao

to answer your question that u probably dont want answered but im gonna answer anyway:

i have an inkling the canon is that they could've been raised separately, hence why we haven't had a genuine canon interaction, and that mystery room takes place after layton is found. (like directly after.) that said i only have one piece of evidence for this idea and its a spoiler lol so i wont state it, plus it's pretty weak. but i think their timelines just clash big time and level 5 just never figured out how to organize it properly.

i really really hope we get a season 2 of the anime because lord knows what i would give to know the canon dynamic of the family and if they really did argue/have conflicts. they are such a perfect fit for a "functional" dysfunctional family and i think it would be REALLY sicknasty for it to be one of layton's flaws to be a kind of crap father despite how great of a man he is. it humanizes them in a way i love sm i have so many ideas i want to draw . okay ramble over sorry to anyone who had to scroll this far ty though pray emoji

hi heres another interest.uhhh layto n siblings arguing about who deserves the layton name . ft an adultish design of flora

[mia4gotcookiez]

Hi! I heard you were doing commissions and I was wondering if you would write about Leona Kingscholar from Twisted Wonderland?

I was thinking how cats can be so clingy to the people that they love. Hear me out on a Leona can be very clingy to their S/O. Like cats would live in your skin if they could type clingy lol.

Yes I am pookie. You have my heart for such a cute ask 🤭🫵🏻

I love this ask and the idea of clingy Leona! Just imagine having a cute and hot big kitty clinging on to you who looks at you like a deprived Victorian peasant child that when you even so suggest moving away.

Warning ⚠️: Fluff?

Now we all know Cat are MASTERS of push and pull one moment they are all up on you and then second moment they are on the furthest corner of the room from you but once they warm up to you properly, they never get their cutie claws off of you.

• Just like normal Cats Leona too takes some time to let you inside his heart and actually warm up to you.

• Once he does, Leona literally follows you EVERYWHERE… when you guys are in each other room he stays on the bed when you go to the washroom but when you both are in public he follows you the the bathroom and waits out the door.

• He HAS to have his hands on you, he can’t function otherwise… even his doctor says that he will die if he doesn’t have his hands on you 😔

• He always insists on standing, sitting, laying just a few cm away from you if not on you.

• when you both are cuddling, he literally buries himself in you, it seems like lowkey he kind of tries merging with you 💀.

• He becomes more vocal. He groans and grunts when you pull away from you and looks at you like you just threatened his lineage. But when you guys are cuddling? He’s literally the happier kitty in the world, his purring and vocalising like a broken record. (What a cutie)

• Poor baby gets so agitated, upset and temperamental when he’s not around you. Exactly why Ruggie always has you on speed dial in case an angry lion flips his shit and wrecks things up.

• Oh and the jealousy? God the jealousy 💀. Now our kitty is a smart and secure man but when it comes to you… oh ho ho. God bless any man you talk to that Leona doesn’t like. The guy may find holes in head because of the way your man glares at him. (lol)

• Infact your man refuses to even eat without you. He eats whatever you want him to eat only when you’re there with him and eating with him (even vegetables without some kisses as bribes).

• Ruggie literally worships you like a divine being because of things like this.

• Leo baby literally spoils you with his fucking family fortune (😒 SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME). He sometimes gets calls from his brother asking about the money he spends on you but Leo just shakes it off saying my woman gets whatever she wants. (WOOOHOOOO YOU GOT A PROVIDER 😍)

And that’s mainly it my precious folks 😍, please don’t stop sending me requests and putting me to work for such gorgeous people like yourselves. Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you did don’t forget to show some love with reboots and likes.

Credits to owner of the divider - https://www.tumblr.com/bernardsbendystraws

[malkaleh]

Bio father quote: I mean, I’m your father and I barely like you - of course you are annoying you manipulative little bitch. Stop whining.

(Is it possible that hearing this from age four and then my mum and dad calling me ‘boring but nice/shy and bad at making friends’ uh, affected me a bit???)

(Why do I talk dolls shouldn’t talk talking is for people)

[hood-ex]

"Love" and "proud" and "family" come up so frequently in bat comics now. Bleh. Bring back something I can relate to like emotional constipation and repression.

[svamppp]

I really assumed that tears would make people care at least

[kaurwreck]

for the ask game: LILAC CHARCOAL AND RASPBERRY

anon this is so sweet 😭

[ask game provided below for reference; if you'd like to play, please reblog from OP here:]

[allylikethecat]

i hate inflicting more pain onto him but you do "insecure matty comforted by g" so well, could we get a little snippet on him reacting to all the "twink death" posts on twitter 🥹

HELLO KIND ANON!

Thank you so much for going rogue and just like... sending me a prompt that wasn't on any kind of list. If anyone else wants to just... send me a prompt situation from the depths of their mind I am HERE and READY for it!

This little snippet ended up being 2k words and I'm not totally sure how that happened and I was going to try and cut it down some but then decided that this was my blog so I can do what I want and we are full send posting the entire thing. I'm not sure if this is what you are looking for, but here we are! Also I mean no offense to anyone with this one (Fictional!Matty per the prompt is upset about the Twink Death posts and it sends him spiraling about his relationship with fans and also fictional!George) and I hope you enjoy it! Also I 100% made up the twitter handle and I mean no offense if there is anyone out there with that handle.

Thank you so much and let me know what you think!

❤️Ally

Matty knew he wasn’t supposed to be on Twitter anymore. His therapist had told him so, George had told him so. Social media was a cesspool, it wasn’t real life, and it only ever served to bring him down. Matty knew he had an addictive personality, and a short attention span, so sometimes it felt like social media had been made just for him, projecting colorful, easily digestable, bite size bits of information right to his brain. (Rationally he knew that was the entire point of an algorithm but that didn’t mean it made him feel any less special.)

Scrolling through Twitter was like pressing on a bruise, he couldn’t help but love the sting even though it only hurt him. Whenever he went on Twitter he ended up doom scrolling until he sent himself into a depressive spiral, focusing on all the people who hated him and wanted him to overdose and die, which he then coped with by getting drunk and posting the wrong thing. 

Matty knew he wasn’t supposed to be on Twitter anymore, but George was distracted and Matty was too tired to even sleep and apparently a masochist as he settled onto the hotel bed and re-downloaded the app, a white X on a black background instead of the blue bird he had grown to love to hate. He logged in quickly with one of his many burner accounts, a ‘75 fan account that no one had even joking speculated was actually him. A tingling thrill of anticipation moved up his spine, not unlike the buzz he used to feel when he went out to score, as his feed loaded. He quickly glanced over at George guilty, who was still staring intently at his laptop, sitting at the hotel desk, headphones on, working on something. He felt like a little kid with his hand in the cookie jar, just asking to be caught and disciplined.

Confident that George wouldn’t be paying him any mind, at least for a little while, Matty began scrolling. There were fans proclaiming their love for him, and that they wanted to have his babies, invasive fan theories about him and Ross of all people that couldn’t be further from the truth, pictures of Taylor in Brazil, then more pictures of her pretending she gave a rat's arse about football. Sandwiched between a gif of a cat falling off of the counter and a tweet proclaiming Jack Antanoff a chaos gremlin Matty saw it.

He nearly scrolled past the two pictures posted side by side. If he was going to be naughty and looking through twitter, he was going to at least try and avoid too much of his own press, but he couldn’t help but stop. It was a picture of him from 2014, he was on stage, clutching a microphone and a cigarette in the same hand, his pale blue button down half unbuttoned and nearly slipping off his shoulder, his collar bone jutting out razor sharp. His curls were overgrown and unbrushed, falling around his face, a dark curtain he used to desperately hide behind. He had a vague memory of that day, at least he thought it might have been that day. He had been wearing that shirt the first time George kissed him for real. It had been the last time he had worn the shirt as well, the buttons hadn’t survived George’s eager hands. 

The other picture was from a few nights ago, a tight gray tee shirt clinging to his chest and biceps, the mustache he had grown back at George’s sheepish request twitched in amusement. He looked so much healthier in the second photo, and he was surprised to see it, surprised to see how stark the contrast was. He was pleased that the fans were seeing it too, that they were seeing how much work he had been putting into himself. He wasn’t hiding behind his hair anymore, hence the shorter curls. He was eating better, he was working out. He was trying not to drink as much, he was trying not to smoke as much. He was, after years of therapy, and a few hospital stays that he was happy never actually made it into the press, and more patience and support from George than Matty was sure he deserved, he was actually doing well. The new combination of medication was helping, even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

Then he saw the caption. Twink Death. He blinked. What did they mean, twink death. He was actively taking steps to better himself and healyslut69 was clearly being ridiculous, acting like a piece of him had died. He was the same person, he just wasn’t twenty five and addicted to smack anymore. Not that he had ever been a twink in the first place. He was a manly man, thank you very much. He clicked on the tweet, eager to scroll through the thread and see the replies calling out healyslut69 for being absolutely ridiculous. Twink Death, he scoffed, absolutely ridiculous. That was until he saw that all of the replies were in agreement with healyslut69. They were all mourning his alleged twink death.

He let out a little whine of frustration, then quickly glanced up from his phone to make sure George hadn’t heard him. Thankfully, George was still engrossed in whatever track he was working on, headphones on, clicking away. This is absolutely ridiculous, Matty thought, thumbing away from the thread to go back to his feed. This group of fans didn’t know what they were on about. He frowned as he saw another post relating to the topic, then another, and then another. He swallowed hard. Maybe healyslut69 wasn’t the one that was wrong. Maybe he was. 

He scrolled up, finding the original tweet once again. He looked at the two photos, bringing his phone up closer to his face to examine them as if he wasn’t looking at the face he saw in the mirror every morning. Maybe he didn’t look like the same person anymore. Maybe it was more than just getting clean, cutting his hair and gaining at least a stone. Maybe a piece of him really had died. He swallowed hard, his thick smoker’s saliva catching in his throat causing him to cough wetly. At that George did turn his head, lifting one of the headphones away from his ear. 

“You ‘right?” George asked, frowning, as he took in the look on Matty’s face. 

Matty quickly waved him off. “Yeah, just swallowed wrong,” he said, flashing George a thumbs up.

George frowned but turned back to his laptop anyway and Matty went back to his phone, clicking on the original tweet must have triggered something in his algorithm because he was suddenly bombarded with posts about how much he had changed, how much the fans wanted the “old Matty back” how they wanted to “Make Matty Gay again” as if he wasn’t in a fucking relationship with a man and had been for the past nine years. 

The more he read the more the self doubt started creeping in. It was slow at first, and he almost didn’t notice it. It was like frostbite, creeping through his body, overwhelming his senses without him even realizing until it was too late. He pressed the side button to lock his phone and tossed it onto the bed, where it proceeded to slide off the sheets and land on the floor with a clatter. He let out a groan of frustration and self pity, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. He just couldn’t fucking win. 

“Okay,” said George, taking his headphones completely off and spinning around in the swivel chair to look at Matt, quickly glancing at his phone on the floor, then back to Matty. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” said Matty stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling ridiculous for even being upset that some faceless fan account was mourning his supposed “twink death,” even as his lower lip began to tremble. Fuck Matty though, unable to meet George’s gaze and the loving concern he knew he was going to see painted across his face. He was going to start crying. He froze, feeling like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. What if George didn’t find him as attractive anymore, what if George missed how he used to look, all skinny and delicate, with long messy hair, sucking on a cigarette instead of eating breakfast, lunch or dinner. 

What if that was why their sex life had gotten less active as they got older. They still had plenty of sex, and Matty had always been satisfied, but what if that was the reason the shirt destroying urgency was gone, what if that was why George wasn’t tossing him onto the nearest surface at every opportunity anymore. Matty had thought they were just getting older, maturing, leveling out, but what if George just wasn’t as attracted to him anymore?! What if that was why George had wanted him to grow the mustache, what if he was trying to find some new way to make sleeping with him less of a chore. 

Matty couldn’t help it, he looked up, at kind, sweet, understanding and supportive George, who forced himself to fuck him even though he wasn’t attracted to him anymore, and instantly burst into the tears he had been fighting. 

George blinked in surprise, clearly he hadn’t been expecting that. He stood up, closing the distance between them as he sat down next to Matty on the bed, carefully pulling him into his arms even as Matty kept his hands pressed to his face. 

“What’s wrong, love,” said George softly, rubbing a large hand in careful circles against Matty’s back. “Did something happen? Is your family okay?” 

Guilt burned in Matty’s stomach, as he pressed his hand to his mouth as if he could push all the upset back inside of his chest, as if he could swallow it back down to his belly where it belonged. 

“They’re fine,” Matty said with a hiccup, “I’m fine, sorry, fuck, I’m fine,” he rubbed at his eyes, even as his breath hitched, “you can get back to work, I’m fine.” 

“Matthew,” said George softly, pulling Matty’s hands away from his face. “Something is clearly wrong, what can I do to help?” 

George’s kindness just made Matty cry harder, burying his face in George’s shoulder. He knew he was being extremely dramatic and over the top right now, crying because some fans on the internet were mourning his alleged “twink death” was ridiculous even for him. But it wasn’t just about the fans on the internet, it was hundreds of little things he had pushed down until he just couldn’t take it anymore and it all boiled over. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be famous anymore, he wasn’t sure he ever had. 

It was the fans that seemed to hate him always criticizing his outfit choices, the ones complaining about the set lists he painstakingly put together, the ones who complained that he didn’t talk enough during gigs, and the ones who complained when he did. It was the fans, and not fans, that took every word he had ever spoken ever, and twisted it round in circles until it didn’t even make sense anymore. It was the ones accusing him of being the worst person alive. It was the ones wishing death upon him and his loved ones. It was the way that no matter what he did, no matter how much of himself he gave to the masses, it was never enough and never what they wanted. He was just so fucking tired, and seeing that tweet broke something inside of him in a way that he hadn’t been expecting. It filled him with even more self loathing and doubt, why had he even bothered to get clean, why had he even bothered to try and get healthy, everyone liked him better strung out anyway it seemed. 

“Just some dumb fans on the internet,” said Matty quietly, trying to get his breathing under control, George was still rubbing his back soothingly.

“Matty,” said George sadly, his heart breaking. He wasn’t going to address the fact that they both already knew Matty wasn’t supposed to be looking at Twitter. 

“Do you,” said Matty, pulling away slightly, needing to hear the words straight from George’s mouth, needing to rip the bandaid off. If George didn’t like him like this he would figure it out. He’d lose the weight again, he’d grow out his hair. “Do you,” he swallowed hard, “do you still like me?” 

“What kind of absolute bullshit question is that?” George asked, “of course I like you Matty, I fucking love you.” 

Matty swallowed again, weighing his words. “Are you, are you still attracted to me?” 

“Jesus Christ Matty,” said George, “what is this about? Yes I’m very much still attracted to you, always have been and always will be.” 

“Even though I’m not as,” Matty could bring himself to say the word, “delicate anymore?” he asked instead. 

“What do you mean?” George asked not following along. Matty sighed and pulled away from George’s arms, leaning over the side of the bed to retrieve his phone. He unlocked it, keeping his eyes down cast as he handed it to George.

George frowned, looking over the tweet, a crinkle forming between his eyebrows. He relocked Matty’s phone without saying a word and reached over to set it on the nightstand. 

“I,” said George leaning in and pushing Matty onto his back so he could hover over him. “Love you.” He kissed Matty’s deeply, licking into his mouth, before nipping lightly on his lower lip. “And I will always love you and think you’re the sexiest man alive.” 

“Even though I’m not a twink anymore?” Matty couldn’t help but ask even as he felt George’s erection digging into his thigh. 

George snorted. “If anything, it’s even hotter that I don’t have to worry about hurting you.” 

Matty couldn’t help the grin that broke out across his face, and George couldn’t help but kiss it away. 

[blitz0hn0]

Adding to the ✨DID Problems✨ we deal w: having a system journal would be a HUGE waste of time if we weren't a system!! but since I Feel Like a Different Person every time I pick it up and find handwriting that is definitely not how I write (despite a lot of shared habits) it gets a little silly to be like "why did I do all this? why do I have this?"

Stop asking that lol like TF you mean "we don't know for sure?" I think we do. The symptoms don't match any other disorder bruh, not quite. We're not just "voices" in the head we all have to actively Do Things to keep this body and mind functioning. Pretty sure most people mainly got one stream of consciousness keeping track of that. We definitely aren't hallucinations because we have feelings that we distinctly feel apart from the rest of our brain, and again we're not just perceivable mentally we do things when we front. As much as we try not to (and why would we have to "try" in the first place) we all talk with noticeable differences that just come and go.

And why would I ever bother to write this much if no one else's hands touch the journal and no one else's eyes better see it? It's all "me," but it's a lot of different feelings altogether. Because I know they share my brain, but I don't feel like they are "me" at all. Even when I feel their feelings they feel different than "mine." What else could it be? come on now.

Final nail in my coffin, I know for a FACT that I don't use this blog often. But Chez does.

This has been the former host dragging himself out of denial, tune in next week when we try to finish a to-do list for once!

[girlivealwaysbean]

real

[quietwingsinthesky]

I'm happy that your hormone rx got sorted out 💜💜

yeah, just in time too! i was starting to get my headaches again. my body is not meant to run on an estrogen platform, it is testosterone exclusive. otherwise. The Glitches™️

[aleximustd13]

Cant wait to go to my therapist to hear her ask me why i havent started going to driving school or why i havent got a real job yet for the 384748th time

[misfortunekeep]

Good god these gay men are ruining me fr fr

[hyperlexichypatia]

Okay, here's my criticism of this post I keep seeing -- and no, it's not what you think. I know, my longtime followers who know the kinds of things I post about a lot are probably thinking, "Oh, I know what their objection is going to be. It's going to be that 18-19 year olds are adults who can date older partners if they choose to." But no, that's not it this time! Yes, I do believe it's fine for young adults to date older adults if they choose to (and am accordingly rolling my eyes at all the "This should go up to 25!" comments in the notes), but. That's not my issue here. In fact, precisely because I believe that young adults dating older adults is morally neutral, I'm not at all concerned about the efficacy of the messaging against it. My concern is that underage minors being in sexual/romantic relationships with adults is actually harmful and dangerous, and therefore young people actually should be warned against it, and this is not an effective warning.

Fellow old people, do y'all remember being 14? At all? Would you have found this warning effective and compelling at that age?

I for sure would not! I did not! Quite the opposite!

Put yourself in the young person's position here. You have no rights. You're treated as someone with no agency. Your parents, teachers, government, and society as a whole treats you as some combination of "nuisance," "ticking time bomb," and "unthinking blob." Developmentally, you're at a phase of life when you should be transitioning to a more adult role, but everyone around you demonizes you for that desire. All your thoughts, feelings, and opinions are dismissed as the inconsequential ravings of Just A Dumb Kid Who Doesn't Know Any Better. You meet someone who treats you with basic human politeness, tells you that he likes you and that you're mature, actually treats you like you have two brain cells to rub together. Of course you're going to be drawn to him. And then when other adults warn you that obviously of course he doesn't really like you, that's impossible, of course you're not really mature, no one could possibly see you that way; actually you're naive and incapable of making your own decisions, and the way your parents/teachers/society treat you is completely justified. Are you going to heed those warnings?

Why are adults absolutely constitutionally incapable of giving good, necessary advice to teenagers without fucking insulting them in the process? Of course teenagers don't listen to it! Why would anyone??

"Oh, well, of course teenagers don't listen, because they're stubborn, and immature, and biologically determined to make bad decisions, which is all the more reason they need to be controlled," say adults, completely oblivious to the actual problem.

When I was a teenager, the big moral panic at the time was teen pregnancy, and we were all inundated with the least effective cautionary tales in the world: "If you get pregnant as a teen, you'll have to leave your parents' care and function as an adult!" Which left every girl who'd intentionally gotten pregnant for the explicit purpose of escaping her abusive parents saying "Yeah, that was the goal." And every girl who was looking for a way of escaping her abusive parents to think "What a great idea!" Today the big moral panic is older partners, but if the appeal of an older partner is that he treats you like someone capable of making your own decisions, why would you be persuaded by a counterargument of "Don't listen to him, of course you're not capable of making your own decisions!"?

Again. I'm saying this because I agree that adults dating minors is a bad thing and that minors should be warned against it. EFFECTIVELY.

That said, this is my advice to any 17-or-younger person being pursued by an 18+-year-old partner: Listen. You deserve so much better than the way society treats you. You deserve to be taken seriously. You deserve to make your own decisions in life. You have a mind of your own, and people should recognize that instead of treating your pesky "free will" as a personal affront or an inconvenient glitch. You can and should think for yourself. You deserve, and I hope you have, relationships with older people who validate those truths about you. However. You are still legally and materially powerless. I don't have to tell you that. You live it every day. Someone older than you -- and therefore, inherently, legally, more powerful than you -- should not be trying to extract things from you. Money, sex, unpaid labor, anything of value. Someone more powerful than you who truly values you, values your friendship, values you as a person, will be mindful of your status and not try to extract anything from you. Cross-age friendships are good. Older people can and should genuinely like and appreciate you, and you can and should genuinely like and appreciate them. But if they try to extract anything from you, run away.

[jackass-jones]

I love me some homoerotic torture 🥰

[keeps-ache]

unfortunately i enjoy these sad little tunes on the piano and my mother will simply have to Deal

[starpens]

୨୧ㅤִㅤׄ COUGH SYRUP ― GOJO SATORU.

satoru is a bit of an idiot who will do anything to get you to speak to him after an argument.

𓈒 ݁ ₊ content ﾉ fem reader, clingy satoru, established relationship, mild argument, fluff, not proofread, randomly started missing my boy :( <3

satoru can’t function when you’re upset with him. 

he knows he should be an adult about it — he is an adult, after all. he should give you space, let you simmer down. most people do not do things such as send one hundred and fifty text messages (he counted each of ‘em; you left him on read one hundred and fifty two times. who does that?) to your phone while you’re in the middle of grocery shopping and they most definitely do not take a sick day because their significant other is mad at them. 

 but then again, satoru isn’t like most people. 

which is why he’s currently sprawled out on the sofa in the middle of the day, wrapped in your favorite throw blanket — one that still smells faintly of your perfume. tissues litter the coffee table and floor around him, an unconvincing movie set of misery. call him manipulative, but it’s the only thing he’s got left in the tank since, for the last seventy-two hours, you haven’t spoken more than five words in a sentence to him. 

you’re his main source of enrichment, his brain stimulated by your sweet kisses and good loving so when you take that away, you’re stripping away his heart and soul. he’s got nothing left. he might as well die.  

in satoru’s brain, he figures that surely, if he’s coughing up a lung, you’ll feel bad for him and start talking to him again. in sickness and in health, right? 

by the time you walk through the front door after making a quick run to the supermarket for groceries, he’s in full performance mode, clutching his stomach with a groan. 

the sound is so realistic that you feel a sudden stab of worry, wondering if he’s injured. rushing into the living room, you find all six foot three of your boyfriend balled up on the sofa, looking like walking death. 

or trying to, anyway. 

“satoru?” you ask, eyebrows arching as you set your grocery bags down on the floor, taking out your phone and glancing at the time on the lockscreen. “why are you home? it’s eleven am.” 

“baby,” he groans pitfully, looking up at you. his glacier blue eyes are red rimmed and shimmering suspiciously — like he squeezed them shut repeatedly until he got the desired effect. satoru sniffles for good measure, huddling into the blanket. “i’m sick,” he announces, his lower lip wobbling, dragging out the last syllable like it physically hurts him to say it. 

“sick? you seemed fine when i left this morning,” you say, taking a step forward. you reach out a hand, pushing back his wintery locks to check for a fever. his skin feels normal, cool to touch even. your eyes narrow. you’re dubious — satoru never gets sick, yet it is his favorite act whenever he’s in the doghouse and wants attention. that, and he’s a terrible actor. you purse your lips, irritated. this is what he does instead of just apologizing? 

“i wasn’t fine emotionally,” satoru whines back. “i’m heartbroken here. it’s debilitating my health rapidly.” 

your expression doesn’t budge and satoru’s pout deepens when he realizes you’re not buying it. he clutches the blanket tighter around his big body, exaggerating a shiver for good measure. “you’re my life force, angel. my happiness. my —”

“stop it,” you interrupt and hold up a hand, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. you’re mad at him — you are. “but let me get this straight. you called out of work because i wasn’t talking to you?” 

“it was a medical emergency. do you have any idea what it’s like to go hours without hearing you voice?! without seeing you smile at me? you wouldn’t even let me use your body wash last night so we could share the same scent. i barely survived the night. any longer and i’d be a goner,” he sighs dramatically, then remembers he’s supposed to be on his last leg and hacks, phlegm rattling in his throat. 

“you’re obsessed,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to hold firm. but your damned heart has selective memory and it is making an appearance again, rapidly forgetting why you’re still mad at him. oh, you had a right to be upset over what he did, but it seems insignificant now when he’s in front of you, groveling like a servant at a throne. 

“angel, come on,” he presses, sitting up on the sofa and reaching for your hand, hurt flashing bright across his eyes when you step out of range. if you let him pull you down on that sofa with him, he’ll sweet talk his way into you forgiving him without consequences. he’ll do that anyway, but you won’t make it easy for him. “i’ll do anything to make it right.” 

“don’t angel me. you can’t just manipulate me into forgiving you with your big pretty eyes,” you wag your finger at him. “i bet you don’t even know what you did.” 

“i know, but it’s working, ain’t it?” he grins, shamelessly dropping the congested tone in his voice. “and i know what i did,” he scoffs. “you’re mad at me about that thing.” 

yes, that thing.

two nights ago, your body pillow — your very expensive, weighted body pillow which happened to have a giant render of your boyfriend on it, went missing. you’d commissioned it to have something to cuddle with on those nights when satoru is away on business and you miss him in your shared bed an unhealthy amount. you’d become a little too attached to it, though, while satoru wanted nothing more than to burn it. 

“he has a name,” you hiss, swatting satoru’s knee as you struggle not to laugh. “don’t call mr. comf-toru-ble a thing! he’s sensitive.” 

“see?” satoru says, scrubbing a hand over his handsome face before gesturing around wildly. “you even named it.” 

you give him a sharp look. “he cost me an entire paycheck— an entire paycheck that three days ago, you gave to the garbage collectors because i was cuddling him instead of you!” 

“i was feeling neglected!” he defends, voice pitching higher in his affront, placing a hand on his chest. “you spent the whole night with it. meanwhile, i— your husband— was right there, cold and alone. i can’t let me steal my wife.”

“we’re not married, satoru,” you remind him, then pout. “unlike my husband, the pillow doesn’t hog the covers, snore, or throw out things that i really like.” 

“it’s not hogging the covers, it’s redistribution of them for my comfort,” he grins playfully, but upon seeing your serious expression, he concedes, sobering up. in truth, he knows he messed up and went too far. it was childish to throw out something that you bought because of his frequent bouts of absence. maybe if he was around more, you wouldn’t need to cuddle with body pillows that look like him. “look, baby. i’m sorry. it was a moment of weakness. it’s not everyday i gotta be in competition with myself, but i’ll make it up to you! i even ordered you another one.” 

“a moment of jealousy, you mean,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your tone now.

“hey, you gotta see it from my perspective though. it’s kind of crazy seeing you cuddle with a pillow that looks like me when the real thing is right here,” satoru gestures down the long line of his body, though it looks more comical than inviting when he’s wrapped like a overstuffed burrito in your throw blanket.

“mm,” you nod, “well, maybe if the ‘real thing’ is a good boy, i’ll cuddle him more often.” 

“deal,” he answers immediately and when his muscular arms shoot out from behind the blanket and reach for you this time, you let him. his arms circle around your waist, pulling you into his lap. it was just a few days of silent treatment, but satoru wastes no time tucking his face against the dip of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent like you’re something precious and rare he lost ages ago and is just discovering again after eons. 

he’s squishing you, he knows it, but god he hates it when you’re mad at him — and you, in return, hate being at odds with him too. you both make too much sense to each other to be apart, and there’s upset in the balance of the world when the two of you are in an argument. 

“worst seventy-two hours of my life,” satoru blows out a breath of relief, the air tickling the hair at the nape of your neck, drawing a shiver down your spine. “never do that to me again, angel. you hear?” 

“don’t throw out my customized satoru merch again and i won’t, baby,” you coo, smiling. 

“you’ll still choose me over the other guy though, right?” 

“we’ll see, ‘toru, we’ll see,” you answer playfully, yelping when he darts in to nip at your ear in retaliation.

getting comfortable in satoru’s lap, you lean in to put the both of you out of your miseries and forgive him with a kiss when you get a whiff of menthol and childhood memories wafting from his chest.

 “are you wearing vaporub?”