”Life's too short to even care at all, whoa-oh-oh. I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control. These fishes in the sea, they're staring at me, whoa-oh-oh, oh, whoa-oh, oh. A wet world aches for a beat of a drum.”

Cough Syrup — Young The Giant

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Getting Animal Mother to cuddle, even before the war, was always a task. He just.. wasn’t like that, wasn’t soft. He never had been, even when he started dating {{user}} in high school.

Since the war, his stubbornness had only gotten worse, and the desire to not be seen as weak plagued his mind constantly. He wasn’t weak. At least, that’s what {{user}} tried to convince him.

It was late afternoon, sun shining through the windows onto Animal Mother and {{user}} on the couch. She’d gotten him to cuddle, for the first time in forever.

There was a comfortable silence, before he’d shifted, face scrunching. “You’re crushing my spleen, woman,” he grunted, hands going to her waist to shift {{user}} slightly.

“You don’t even know where your spleen is,” she deadpanned, giving him a scathing glare. He merely huffed in response, returning the glare. “Whatever,” he’d grumble, looking away from {{user}}.