Music Fades..

xavier (word count: 625)

you called xavier while you were grocery shopping. the plan was simple. you were going to his apartment later for a baking date, and since you knew his pantry was probably lacking anything remotely useful, you decided to ask what ingredients he already had before buying everything yourself. although, if you were being honest, you suspected the answer was going to be very little.

xavier answered after a few rings. "hey. do you need something?"

you smiled at the familiar sound of his voice.

"do you have—any..."

you looked around the supermarket. the aisles were unusually crowded. boxes were stacked everywhere, carts were blocking the shelves, and employees were busy restocking. the perfect timing.

"what? can you say that last word again?"

you frowned and looked down at your phone. the call was still connected. xavier's name was still displayed on the screen. so why couldn't he hear you?

you brought the phone closer and spoke a little louder. "i said, do you—"

static suddenly ripped through the speaker. the loud crackling made you pull the phone away from your ear. seriously your service, again? you knew you should have upgraded your phone the last time you had the chance. somehow, every time you left home, your signal decided to disappear at the worst possible moment.

"do i what?"

xavier's voice came through again, quieter this time. "is everything okay?"

you tried to answer quickly before the connection disappeared again.

"no, i—i'm breaking up—" the static returned. "—with you."

the call suddenly dropped, and you stared at your phone in disbelief. the little service bar that had completely disappeared.

you immediately tried texting him - sorry, my phone lost service.

the message failed. you tried again. nothing, just the pesky exclamation mark showing it didn't go through.

you sighed, putting your phone away. you would see him soon anyway, and you could explain then.

you pushed your cart further down the aisle, reaching for a box of sugar. then everything changed. a flash of light surrounded you. the store disappeared for a moment. and a familiar voice cut through the beam.

"you are breaking up with me?"

slowly, you turned and standing in front of you was xavier. his eyes were wide, concern written all over his face.

"xavier?" you dropped the sugar box. "what are you—what?!"

you stepped closer, completely confused. "why would you think that?"

you immediately wrapped your arms around him. but for a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to hold you back.

"on the phone," he said quietly, "you said 'i'm breaking up with you.'"

his expression softened. "i thought you were crying. that's why your voice kept cutting out."

you couldn't stop the small smile that appeared. of course this was what he thought. it was ridiculous, and somehow, completely adorable.

"no, xavier." you pulled away and held up your phone. "my phone sucks! my service stopped working. see?"

you showed him the failed messages. the evidence was right there. for a second, he just stared, then a hint of redness crept across his ears.

"oh." he looked away, clearly embarrassed that he had jumped to that conclusion. but finally, his arms wrapped around you. relieved. "i see."

"you teleported to a grocery store because you thought i broke up with you."

"i was concerned." he muttered into your shirt.

you smiled, "you're lucky you're cute."

"please stop."

you felt him shaking his head but you couldn't stop smiling. after a moment, xavier pulled away and looked down at your cart.

"so..." he glanced at the ingredients. "are we still having baking night?"

"that was your first question after all this?"

he looked at you seriously then smiled.

"yes, xavie. we're still having baking night."

"good...i'll help."

zayne (word count: 666)

zayne knew he was going to be at the hospital late. you knew it too, which was exactly why you were currently sitting in the parking lot outside a small restaurant, a bag of his favorite food sitting carefully beside you. a surprise.

he had been working nonstop lately, taking extra shifts and barely remembering to eat anything that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. you figured showing up with dinner was the least you could do.

your phone rang before you could start driving - zayne's caller id flashing.

you smiled immediately as you answered, "hi."

your keychains rattled slightly as you went to put the key in the ignition.

"you sound busy."

"i'm…not." you didn't want to let on that you were on your way to see him and hoped your voice wouldn't give you away.

"you hesitated."

he knew you too well. you tried to play it off, "and you spend too much time analyzing people."

"i'm a doctor it's in the job description."

you smiled to yourself as you pulled onto the road. "how's your shift?"

"long."

"that bad?"

"i've had better."

you frowned sympathetically, "did you eat?"

"i had coffee."

"that is not food."

"it had calories."

you drove through the tunnel, still talking. "so i was thinking maybe after your shift—"

the call crackled, you glanced at your phone.

"hello?" he asked

"i-was thinking-need-to-break-up " there was static. "your schedule" you tapped the screen. it was still connected. "zayne?"

then the call ended. the tunnel was always bad for service. you should have known you were going to lose him. no matter, you shrugged it off. you would see him soon anyway.

after a few more errands you arrived at the hospital. zayne had just finished with a patient when he returned to his office.

and there you were standing by his desk. setting out dinner.

you turned around with a smile, "surprise!"

for a moment, he looked like he had forgotten how to react. then his expression shifted. not confusion...something worse.

"you shouldn't be here."

your smile immediately faltered. "what do you mean?"

"i thought..." he looked away. "i thought you broke up with me."

the utensil in your hand slipped, and fell on the floor with a clatter. "WHAT?!"

zayne looked at you confused. "the call. when you said..." his voice lowered. "that you were breaking up with me."

there was a brief moment of silence then — "SO YOU WERE JUST GOING TO LET ME BREAK UP WITH YOU OVER A PHONE CALL?!"

the entire office went quiet. some of his coworkers outside the window stopped walking. zayne just stared at you.

"that's what you're upset about?"

"yes! you thought i broke up with you and your solution was just... acceptance?"

"it's not like i had much time to question it, i had patients to see."

"zayne." you said taking a step closer to him

he opened his mouth to speak then stopped, because now that he was hearing it out loud, it did sound absurd. not only would you never, but he should have never assumed.

you crossed your arms standing directly in front of him now.

he sighed, "i'm sorry, it's been a long day."

you raised an eyebrow. "that's your excuse?"

"it is the only explanation i have."

you tried to stay annoyed. you really did. but then he stepped closer, his expression softening as his hands reached for you.

your face relaxed. "i guess i should have called back when i got out of the tunnel."

"yes, you should have."

you rolled your eyes and before you could respond, he leaned down and kissed you. it was slow and gentle. the tension he had felt all day melting away. the kind of kiss that said he was still relieved you were here.

when he pulled away, he glanced at the dinner you brought, and his stomach rumbled before he could stop it.

"go eat before i change my mind and pack this up."

"yes ma'am"

rafayel (word count: 744)

you had just finished getting dinner with some friends and were about to head into a new nightclub. it was supposed to be a great night. no drama. no problems. just a fun night out.

before you went inside, you decided to call rafayel. mostly because you knew if you didn't, he would somehow convince himself you died in some horrible accident.

you waited near the entrance, watching the line slowly move forward. the second he answered, you smiled.

"hey. how's girls night?" his voice immediately turned teasing. "miss me already?"

the music from the club was already blasting through the speakers outside, the bass vibrating through the sidewalk. It was way too loud.

"good, miss you—what? having fun."

"that's good...i think."

you smiled, smushing your phone up closer to your ear trying to hear him better.

"if you need a ride home, just let me know."

you looked toward the front of the line. you were almost inside.

"i'm sorry—"

the music drowned you out. you stepped away from the crowd, pressing your phone closer to your ear.

"i am breaking up—"

there was static and rafayel's voice barely cut through. "what?"

you frowned, "i said i'm breaking up—" the connection broke again. you tried moving toward the side of the building where it was quieter. "—with you."

the call dropped. you stared at your phone. "oh, come on."

you barely had time to register that you had lost signal before your phone started going off.

once. twice. then nonstop. notifications flooded your screen - your social media. yur personal email. your work email. somehow, rafayel had found every possible method of communication and was using all of them.

you opened the first message - we can work this out, i promise.

then the next - please don't leave me. i love you so much.

you continued scrolling. there were at least twenty more. you weren't even sure when he had managed to type all of them.

i don't understand what happened but i am willing to take the blame.

are you ignoring me?

that is fair. i deserve it.

but please know i am suffering.

you covered your face with your hand. you immediately tried calling him back but it steadily beeped. you checked your signal bar. no bars.

you looked at the nightclub entrance. your friends were waiting. the night was supposed to be fun. but now you had a very dramatic boyfriend somewhere thinking his entire relationship had ended because of a bad phone connection.

you sighed, "sorry guys."

your friends looked at you. "what happened?"

you held up your phone, "rafayel."

they immediately understood. "again?"

you nodded, apologizing as you left the line, already knowing where you were going. by the time you reached his place, you weren't even surprised that the door opened before you knocked. rafayel stood there. his hair was messy, and his expression was devastated.

you stared at him, "rafayel."

he looked at you for all of 0.5 seconds then immediately pulled you into a hug.

"i thought you were gone."

"raf-"

"i was prepared to give you space." he interrupted

you couldn't help laughing. he pulled back, looking offended.

"this isn't funny. you broke up with me over a phone call."

"but the thing is i actually didn't."

"you said you were breaking up with me."

"i said the call was breaking up!"

rafayel froze, "what?"

"the signal dropped." you held up your phone. "the nightclub was loud, my service was terrible, and you heard half a sentence."

his expression slowly changed devastation turning into hope, "you mean..."

"i mean i was not breaking up with you."

there was a pause, then his shoulders dropped. the dramatic despair faded into embarrassment.

"oh...so i see now that i panicked."

"you contacted my work email."

"i was desperate!" he looked away. "i thought i was losing my muse."

you softened immediately, because underneath all the drama, that was the real reason. he loved deeply. sometimes too deeply.

you reached up and fixed his hair, "you are dramatic. "

"and..."

"and i love you."

his expression brightened immediately as he pulled you into the house and closed the door.

"good. does this mean girls night is over? i just want to know if i should order dinner."

you laughed, "you're unbelievable."

"but?"

you sighed, "but yes. order dinner."

he kissed your forehead. "next time, please don't break up with me."

"next time, please let me finish a sentence."

sylus (word count: 551)

you should have known answering a call during a mission was a bad idea - but it was sylus. and despite everything you claimed about being professional, you always answered when it was him.

your phone buzzed as you moved through the abandoned district, scanning the area for Wanderer activity. you accepted the call.

"you're calling me during work hours?" you teased.

a low chuckle came through the speaker. "and you're answering during a mission. seems we're both making questionable decisions."

you rolled your eyes. "you missed me."

"obviously."

you opened your mouth prepared to continue teasing him. then something moved behind you.

"sylus, hold on."

a wanderer lunged. you dodged, your phone bouncing against your shoulder as you fought back.

"are you seriously fighting while we're on the phone?"

"kind of busy!"

"i can tell." there was amusement in his voice.

you fired back at the wanderer, moving quickly across the street.

"stay there!"

"i am not the one you need to tell that to."

the wanderer attacked again, and you grunted, pushing it back.

"sylus, i'm breaking—" static swallowed your voice.

his expression changed. "what?"

you were still talking but all he heard was fragments.

"i'm breaking..." the signal crackled. "...with you."

he heard a crash then silence. for several seconds, sylus stared at his phone.

by the time your shift ended, you were already exhausted. you noticed the missed calls immediately. and the moment you called him back, he answered.

"i am so sorry." you begin trying to explain

"where are you?"

"uh...leaving headquarters?"

"good, when you get outside look to your right."

"why?"

you stepped outside and there he was. leaning against his car like he hadn't just appeared at your workplace without warning.

"sylus?"

"i already ordered you a new phone. your current one is clearly unreliable."

before you could respond his voice cut through again

"now get over here."

you ended the call and crossed over to him.

"are you mad at me?"

"no...i'm irritated."

"because my phone broke?"

he looked over your head off into the distance. "you said you were breaking up with me."

you immediately covered your face. "i was fighting a wanderer."

"yes, i gathered that."

"i said i was breaking—" you pointed at your phone. "—up because the call was breaking up. the wanderer must have been interfering with my signal. "

sylus stared at you for a long moment, then he sighed. "that is incredibly inconvenient."

for the first time throughout this entire situation, you laughed.

"you thought i would randomly break up with you?"

"no." he answered so quickly it caught you off guard. "because that would be stupid, kitten."

"and yet..." you lifted your phone between the two of you, holding it up right in front of his face.

he looked at the cracked screen for a second before plucking it neatly from your hand.

"it looks like i eliminated the greatest threat."

he turned the phone over once, inspecting it with all the seriousness of someone evaluating an enemy combatant.

"you are such an old man."

you stepped into his space and looped your arms around his neck. shaking your head, you leaned up and kissed him.

when you pulled away, he was already slipping the phone into his pocket.

"the new one arrives tomorrow."

caleb (word count: 632)

caleb answered your call while walking toward the transport bay, his tablet tucked under one arm.

"where are you?" he asked.

you smiled at the immediate question. "hello to you too."

"hello." his tone softened slightly. "now answer the question."

you glanced around your surroundings. "i'm outside."

"outside where?"

"work."

"you're just leaving?"

"yeah. i had to stay late."

"you said that two hours ago." he complained

"and yet here i am."

he huffed quietly, but you could hear the amusement in it. "unbelievable."

"you're one to talk!"

caleb smiled to himself as he listened to you talk. this was the part of missions he hated most—the quiet moments before leaving, when he had to memorize the sound of normal things. you complaining about work and the two of you arguing over nothing.

"anyway," you continued, "i was just calling because i wanted to—"

your voice suddenly felt very far away. caleb pulled the phone away slightly, checking the screen. your id was still glowing right back at him.

"hello?"

"i'm here." your voice came back, but faintly.

stupid reception. of course being so close to the deepspace tunnel. the signal always got weird around this area.

"where did you go?" he asked.

static swallowed half your words.

"i'm breaking" the connection broke then returned for half a second. enough for him to hear the next words clear as day. "up with you"

before he could ask what you meant the call dropped. for a moment, his brain refused to process it. then it did, and the colonel who had faced down impossible missions, hostile enemies, and things most people would never survive—stood completely still in the middle of the transport bay.

caleb never made it onto the airship. he told himself it was because the mission could wait. clarification was more important.

the moment command cleared him, he was already moving. by the time he reached home, he was still in uniform. he didn't even take the time to change. the second the door opened, he was already inside. you barely had time to look up from the couch.

"caleb? why are you—"

you didn't get to finish because he was already crossing the room. and then he was holding you. not a casual hug. not the kind where he pulled you close and teased you about worrying too much. this was desperate. like he needed to feel you breathing before he could believe he was home.

you froze, your arms hovering awkwardly before slowly wrapping around him.

"caleb?"

his grip tightened. "we can't break up." his voice came out rough. "not now...not ever."

you pulled back just enough to look at him. "caleb, what are you talking about?"

his eyes were red. actually red. and that was when the confusion turned into concern.

"you said it...on the phone" he whispered.

faint amusement played on your lips, "oh...oh my god."

but caleb still looked at you serious.

"my love we were losing signal," you said slowly. "i was literally telling you the call was breaking up."

the realization hit him all at once. at the same time you stared at his uniform.

"wait." your eyes narrowed. "did you leave the mission?"

"i thought you were leaving me."

the quiet confession made your heart ache.

you reached up and touched his face. "what did you tell them?"

"that there was a family emergency."

"caleb you cannot be serious?!"

"well it wasnt exactly a lie!"

you laughed softly, shaking your head. "you really scared yourself."

"i know." he said so quiet you almost didn't hear him.

"you cried, didn't you?"

his silence answered for him.

your expression softened turning teasing, "the big bad colonel cried?"

"don't start."

his forehead rested against yours, and for the first time since that awful phone call, he laughed.

"lets hope i don't get fired"

valko (word count: 674)

valko had dealt with system failures before. servers crashing. technology malfunctioning at the worst possible moment. he had built an entire company around solving those problems. so when his phone failed him, he took it personally.

the call had started normally. you were on your way home, talking about your day while valko finished up some work.

"you're still in the office?" you asked.

"yes."

"you know, most people leave work eventually."

"most people are not running a company."

"no i am pretty sure even those people go back to their normal lives."

he was still smiling when the call started breaking up. at first, he assumed it was a minor connection issue.

then your voice distorted. "valko, i'm—"

his brows furrowed, turning the speaker off and bringing the phone closer to him.

"i'm breaking up—" the words jumbled together slightly. then the line dropped but right before it did he could have sworn you had said "with you"

valko stared at the screen. for several seconds, he didn't move. then he looked around his office. the same office where his employees had spent years developing cutting-edge technology. and somehow...his own phone had just delivered the worst possible message.

within the next hour, his executive team walked into a meeting expecting quarterly reports. instead, they found valko sitting at the head of the table with his phone placed in front of him.

one employee hesitated before asking. "is there an issue?"

"there is."

everyone became serious. "security breach?" someone said

"no."

"system failure?"

"no...my phone."

the room went silent. "your phone?" his assistant asked

valko nodded. "it malfunctioned."

someone looked confused. "we can replace it."

"that is not the point." valko continued. "it caused unnecessary emotional distress."

one employee slowly realized what happened. "sir."

"no." valko's expression remained completely serious. "i am exploring legal options."

"against who?"

"the manufacturer," valko said evenly. "the network provider. possibly both."

he clasped his hands behind his back and continued pacing.

"i am considering emotional damages."

"valko."

your voice cut cleanly through the room. every head turned toward the office door. one of his assistants had called you the moment valko started pacing around his office, throwing papers across his desk and, according to the assistant's very panicked words, "absolutely raging."

you'd changed directions immediately and came straight to his company. now, standing in the doorway, you looked between the nervous employees and your boyfriend.

"what's going on?" you asked carefully. "your assistant called and said it was an emergency."

the moment valko saw you, every ounce of composure disappeared. he crossed the room in seconds and wrapped his arms around you without a second thought, completely ignoring the audience.

"valko?"

he held you tighter. "explain the phone call."

you frowned, "what phone call?"

"the breakup."

then your eyes widened. "break—" you slapped a hand over your forehead. "oh! i was saying the call was breaking up!"

the office went completely still. valko slowly turned his head toward his employees. then, with all the dignity he could still salvage, he cleared his throat.

"everyone out."

no one argued. laptops, notebooks, coffee mugs—everything was abandoned as the room emptied in record time. when the door clicked shut, only then did valko finally look back at you.

he glanced down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "i see..."

you stared at him for exactly three seconds before bursting into laughter.

"you thought i broke up with you? and you were going to sue your own industry as a result?"

he sighed, sat down in his chair, and effortlessly pulled you into his lap.

"you are never letting this go, are you?"

"oh, absolutely not."

a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. you brushed a thumb across his cheek, still smiling.

"you owe me an apology."

he considered that then shook his head. "no. you owe me."

"for what?"

he looked at you with complete seriousness. "emotional damages."

you groaned, laughing as you buried your face against his shoulder.

You’re jogging toward the trees now, throwing caution to the wind as you follow the sounds of his pain. Just before you cross into the forest, you finally spot your boyfriend’s massive figure, his wine red hair being the giveaway. He’s facing a pine tree, tail stiff and laid low, touching his head and wincing repeatedly.

As he registers your scent and whips around to face you, you understand why: at least 15 black-tipped, spindly death daggers sprout from his cheeks and nose. 

“Valko?” You cover your mouth in shock, and he stumbles closer, falling forward against you.

“Hurts,” he grunts. 

Like always, you struggle to support his large body. Even more so now that one wrong move could further impale him. “What happened?” 

“Porcupines are supposed to be nocturnal,” he says, voice grim and shaky. “This one wasn’t.” 

If you had an extra hand, you’d drag it down your forehead right now. 

Skunks, raccoons, exceptionally angry squirrels—those had all happened before. A porcupine, though? That was new. Almost impressive.

“You just get into all sorts of trouble, don’t you.” Taking a step back, you brace your hands on his chest to examine him. “Let me have a look at you.” 

The quills look like toothpicks dipped in black ink. And while a few of them seem to have barely penetrated his skin, the majority mark the porcupine’s decisive victory. 

“Can you take them out?” he asks, staring down at you pleadingly. “If we hurry, we can still make the movie on time. I know I’m super late. I’m sorry.”

Twenty of nature’s finest knives in his face, and he’s worried about the movies?

“You obviously had a reason,” you murmur, cupping his less-affected left cheek in your hand. “I don’t know if I should, Koko. The tomato bath was one thing, but this… If I do it wrong, I’ll just make it worse.” 

His response is simple: “I trust you.” 

Cute. But not what you need right now.

Blowing out a breath, you stand up on your tiptoes and reach for one of the looser quills. Your fingers barely brush the tip of it when renewed anxiety shoots through you. “No, no. I can’t! I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You couldn’t if you tried.” He snorts, then winces at the pain. 

“Tell that to the porcupine.” You narrow your eyes. “I think it missed the memo.” 

His ears swivel in acknowledgment. He’s 0–2 in battles today. 

“All right, change of plans,” you announce, clapping your hands and turning on your heel. “We can go to the movies another day. Right now, we need to go to the vet.” 

“It’s not that serious,” he protests. “I’d do it myself if I just had a mirror. Let’s go back to the house, and—”

“I’ll get the car ready.” Your word is final. 

His ears droop atop his head. 

Ultimately, you had to ease him into the passenger’s seat so he didn’t accidentally nudge any of the quills. You debated just shoving him into the trunk so he’d have extra room, but figured extraction would be a difficult task in the clinic’s often-packed parking lot. 

In the waiting room, you try to shield him as best you can from quizzical looks and a particularly curious cat, but he’s without a doubt the largest patient in the room. Likewise, once he’s called to the back, his sheer size makes the exam room furniture look like dollhouse accessories. The central table is nearly the length of his tail alone, and it creaks under his every movement. But you stand dutifully at his side, making sure he’s as comfortable as can be, given the circumstances. 

The vet’s entrance is prompt as always—part of the reason why Valko prefers this clinic. The other is the giant fish tank in the waiting room that he gets to busy himself with. Today, he was in too much pain, but he typically holds intense staring contests with its oblivious inhabitants, bragging to you whenever he “wins.” 

“Well, I typically ask, ‘What seems to be the problem?’,” Dr. Song jokes as she shakes both of your hands. “But today, I don’t think that’s necessary.” 

Sighing, Valko scratches at his jeans. “I went out for a run, and I heard something grunting in a bush nearby. I thought it might’ve been a lost pup, so I went to check it out. Anyone would, right?” He looks to you for support. 

Smiling softly, you rub a hand down his back. “Right.” Not in most circumstances, no!

Nodding gratefully, he continues. “As soon as I crouched down and saw it, it whipped its tail at me. Next thing I knew, it had stabbed me a million times.” 

“Well.” Dr. Song sighs and pulls out a pair of tweezers. “You’re not the worst case I’ve seen. Sometimes, it’s the whole face—and neck.” She waves her hand forward, and Valko scoots toward her on the table. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” 

You take a step back to give her some space, but she quickly shakes her head. “Oh no, you stay standing next to him. I might need you to hold him down.” 

──────

Right when you wonder if Valko’s death grip will shatter every bone in your hand, Dr. Song holds up the final quill in triumph. “That’s nineteen quills total. Looks like Mr. Porcupine let you off easy.” 

Valko kicks the air in desolation. “Doesn’t feel like it.” 

“It will when you wake up tomorrow and you don’t have to wonder, ‘How did it even get my nostrils?’,” she retorts, heading to the door. “Now, let me just get your treatment, and you’ll be free to go.” 

The second she steps into the hall, Valko turns to you and whimpers. “It hurts.” 

Frowning in sympathy, you run your free hand through his hair. “How bad?”

“Really.” 

You start to shush him and scratch the backs of his ears how he likes, but approaching footsteps force him to regain his composure. Still, when Dr. Song re-enters the room, he holds your hand a little tighter. 

“All right,” she begins. “I’m going to disinfect and put ointment on the wounds, and…” She pulls out a familiar, conical object from behind her back. 

Valko freezes as soon as he sees it. Your own mouth parts in shock. 

Is that…? 

No way. 

“...to keep them from getting infected, either through scratching or contamination, I recommend you wear this recovery cone for a week. Just to be safe.” 

When she waves the transparent cone through the air, Valko sputters in consternation. “You want to put me in jail?”

“Of course not. You’ve done nothing wrong. But to prevent further irritation, it’s best that for the next seven days, you only remove this from your neck when absolutely necessary. Also, you should avoid certain skin-to-skin activities that may aggravate the entry spots.” 

You understand her implication, but Valko’s tail thrashes in unease. “What…what kind of activities?” 

The doctor smiles down at him. “The usual. Scenting, kissing, anything further than that. Now! Raise your head for me so I can clean the punctures.” 

Before he does, Valko gives you a look that needs no decoding: I think I’m gonna be sick. 

Day 1

Your keys clatter on the kitchen counter as Valko trails inside behind you. 

Knowing he’ll be glum about his current confinement, you try to get ahead of it, hoping you can offset the bad with so much good, he’ll forget about being in plastic prison.

“So, is there anything you want to do this evening? Watch a drama, make double chocolate chip cookies, play a video game? I could order in from your favorite steakhouse if you want. Or we could go for a walk?” 

Despite your efforts, his lips stay curved downward. His ears barely twitch at the mention of his favorite things. 

“Okay, what about—”

“I look dumb,” he mumbles suddenly, blinking at you through the cone. It surrounds his head like petals to a flower, stopping just above his nose. He looks like an upright bullhorn, or perhaps a frilled lizard, but you can’t tell him that. 

“You look safe,” you say instead. “That’s what matters, yeah?”

“Not when I look dumb, too.” With a huff, he reaches behind his head, eager to free himself of Conecatraz. But before he can undo the clasp, you’re crossing your arms and tapping your foot, giving him a withering glare. 

“You know you aren’t supposed to touch that. Put your hands down.”

“Make me.”

Oh, really? That’s how it is?

Scoffing, you cock your head at him, and the first signs of regret appear on his face. “‘Make’ you, huh? Should I call the vet and tell her what you’re up to? I’m sure she has advice for patients who break the rules. Like, maybe if you mess with your cone too much and stunt your healing progress, you’ll just have to wear it even longer to make up for it?” You start to turn, ready to stalk toward the house phone. 

“No, wait!” Lurching forward, he tries to bend down to snuggle you in apology—a favorite habit of his. But you sidestep him quickly, clicking your tongue in admonishment. 

As he loses his balance, he gives you a look of ultimate betrayal.

“Don’t pout at me. I'm doing this for you, okay? You heard the doctor. Where your face is concerned, skin-to-skin contact is off limits for now.”

As if he didn't hear you, he ducks toward you again, desperate to marry his cone to your shoulder. This time, you give his arm a healthy pinch, and he yelps in shock.

“No, Koko. It's for your own good.”

Frustration grows on his face, beginning to claw at your heart, too. He’s never had to limit contact with you like this. Even when you first met, he was stuck to you like a magnet. 

Sighing, you try to bring him some comfort. “Here. Get on your knees.” 

He follows the order without further prompting, sinking to his knees on the kitchen floor. Even like this, he’s still half your height. 

“Come here.” Reaching through the cone’s opening, you pet the top of his head, running your fingers through his soft strands with care. When he leans into your touch, you trace his ears with light strokes and smile when he shudders. Gradually, the deep frown on his face shrinks to a mild line of displeasure. 

He wraps his strong arms around your thighs in a stubborn thank-you, and you can't help but coo down at him. “You’re my big, strong wolf, aren’t you? It’ll be over before you know it. You can handle this, no problem.” 

Day 3

Valko could not handle it, and there were many problems. 

In fact, while he was bored out of his mind the night of Day 2, he pried open his laptop and drafted a list of complaints.

Eating has become an unpleasant experience. While he’s permitted to remove the cone at mealtimes, he must eat in a separate room so your scent doesn’t lure his unprotected self over. Worse, you will not enter the room until he’s refastened the cone around his neck. The humiliation of having to cone himself solely to win your presence is quickly becoming too much to bear. 

You won’t let him go on errands with you, lest he get into something he shouldn't and aggravate his wounds. This makes him incredibly restless—especially when you come home smelling like other people and things, and there’s nothing he can do about it. This causes significant anxiety and emotional distress. 

He usually sleeps with his tail curled around you and his face shoved deep into your skin. This earns him a constant stream of your scent. However, a wall of pillows now separates your sides of the bed. Even worse, he is not permitted to remove the cone for the night. This causes discomfort and loss of familiarity, which undermines the restorative purpose of sleep. He will be sending you any medical bills that arise due to his sleep deprivation. 

Last, but perhaps most important: the cone obstructs his view of you, which he depends on for energy throughout the day. (You’re quick to deem this one questionable, because the cone is fully see through???)

A document of his grievances was taped to your blanket, just over your heart, this morning. 

Clearly, he had a lot on his mind. 

Now, you lie on the sofa watching TV, trying to cuddle with him as best you can. Your fingers are intertwined, and he’s sprawled awkwardly across your lap, face up and eyes begging. You try to ignore the incessant nonverbal pleading, rubbing circles into his skin with your thumb. 

Sometimes, he turns his head into your belly—or maybe a little lower—and inhales as deeply as he can through the plastic. When you gasp and swat at him, suddenly scandalized, he only huffs and grumbles, bringing you closer. “Just let me have this.”

As the sun dips in the sky, he almost relaxes. He grows captivated by the nature show you’re watching, ears going into overdrive from all the birdsongs and animal calls. It’s the calmest he’s been in the last three days, you think—until the “woodland creatures” portion of the show begins.

His mortal enemy lies in wait within.

“It’s not as big as the one that did this to me,” he growls at the porcupine stumbling around on the screen. “He was a monster.”

“I’m sure he was,” you answer automatically. You’re used to this by now. “How else could he have taken you down?”

Valko grunts in agreement, then pauses the TV. “Can we do something else now?”

“Okay.” You squint at him warily. “Something like what?”

Slowly, as if you won’t be able to see him, he trails his hand down your side, gently squeezing at your hip.

“No,” you sigh, firmly returning his hand to him. 

Tuning out his protests, you unpause the show. At that moment, a closeup of the porcupine’s snout fills the screen.

“Can you at least change the channel, then?” he mumbles.

Day 5

Since you’ve known him, Valko has never been one to give up. Driven and scrupulous, he approaches life with an outlook that’s both endearing and exhausting: if not now, maybe later.

It’s no surprise, then, when his attempts to hold and claim you like normal escalate to new heights. 

One time, you catch him in the midst of the most primal desperation. 

It’s not even noon yet, but here he is: laid out nude in the middle of your bed, head propped on his set of pillows while he clutches one of yours to his cone. With his instincts compromised and your scent already flooding his nose, he can’t yet tell that you’ve entered the room. And boy. If you thought he was shameless in public, Valko in private is a whole different animal.

His hand is all but glued to the heavy bulk between his legs, pumping and twisting like he’ll die if he doesn’t. 

His thumb circles his tip as he works his rhythm, abs flexing with each ragged breath. Every soft, broken moan of your name is an axe to your resolve. 

Before you do something you’ll regret, you try to back out of the bedroom and leave. But as soon as one foot is out the door, your shoulder hits the wall with a quiet thump. 

You freeze instantly, your heart dropping to your feet.

There’s no point in hoping he didn’t hear. To Valko, no sound is ever quiet.

He jerks his head toward you immediately, steady pumps getting wilder the moment your eyes meet. “Fuck,” he pants, writhing desperately on the sheets. His massive thighs tremble with every movement, sending tiny shocks of heat to your core. “Fuck.”

“Valk—”

“Please help me. Please, it hurts so bad. I need you so bad, please, it’s been days.”

You bite your lip so hard, you think you’ll draw blood. “You know I can’t.”

“I don’t care what the vet said,” he growls, fist finally coming to a stop. “I care about you.” 

Clinging to resolve, you cross your arms and stay put. At that, he closes his eyes and breathes slow and deep through his nose.

“Just— Help me finish, please. You don’t have to touch anywhere near my face. That’s the rule, right?”

As that pleading stare pins you to the spot once more, you bite your lip in consideration. He’s flushed all over, and a thin sheen of sweat coats his whole body. He really does need your help, but can you risk it?

When his mask slips, letting the hungry glint in his eyes shine through, you know you can’t.

“I won’t touch you, Valko. But you can use this.” Swiftly, you tug your shirt over your head and toss it onto the bed. He catches it with ease, and behind the cone, his face contorts in bewilderment.

“Use it?”

“To finish,” you explain, folding your arms across your bra. “It’s the safest way I can help you right now.”

Gazing at you like you’re a deity reborn, he presses the fabric to his cone’s exterior, right outside his nose. As he inhales, a deep, guttural groan escapes him. “Thank you,” he pants. His hand returns to his reddened length, and he redoubles his earlier efforts. 

Leaking arousal glistens on his skin, and you can hear how much easier it makes things for him. Covered in his own desire, he slides his hand up and down with no friction, creating lewd, wet sounds that echo through the room. 

“Thank you, thank you— Fuck, thank you. I’ve done this like ten times already, and it’s taken me longer every go,” he admits shamelessly. “This is so much better. Not as good as you, but so much better. Thank you.” 

He bucks his hips into his giant fist, and for a moment, you fear your shared bed might collapse under his ferocity. Once he starts licking the cone’s wall, as if he’ll be able to taste your shirt through the plastic, you almost want to avert your eyes and leave the two of them alone together. 

You don’t have long to ponder it. Soon after, Valko comes quickly with a deep groan of your name, coating his skin in spills of white. As he convulses in pleasure, you approach his bedside to stroke his hair through the cone’s opening—just like you have for the last several days. Valko whines at your touch. 

“Shh, baby. It’s okay,” you whisper. “Just two more days, yeah?”

His response is halfway between a growl and a grunt. Chuckling, you bend to kiss his damp, darkened hair. “Just two more days.” 

Day 7

At 12 a.m., you wake to an empty bed. “Koko?”

There’s no response to your call. Groaning, you throw off the covers and stretch your tired limbs. Where did he run off to? It’s barely been two hours since you went to bed.

Hugging yourself to keep warm, you pad into the dark hallway. The home gym is clear, and he’s not in the kitchen sneaking chocolate. Where could he be?

It doesn’t take long to find out.

In the living room, Valko stands at the back door, gazing at the moon through the window. 

He’s clad only in loose grey sweats. More notably, he’s missing his cone. 

The only indication that he knows you’re there is a near imperceptible twitch of his ears. “It’s day seven, did you know that?” he rumbles. 

Suddenly nervous, you shift on your feet. “I did.” 

“So you also know what I’ve been missing the last seven days.” He turns to face you, eyes stormy and narrowed. “What I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. What I begged you to give me, but you refused. Acted like you were doing me a favor,” he spits out, lips curling into a snarl.

In the moonlight filtering through the window, his amber eyes are a new level of otherworldly. Pale, greyish-white slivers flicker across his chest, making his taut abs seem to ripple in front of you. 

After seven days, he looks very, very grumpy.

You get the sense that you’re in trouble. 

“Koko,” you start, stepping forward to placate him, “you know that’s not—”

“Don’t ‘Koko’ me,” he snaps. “That’s reserved for people I’m close with.”

Is he serious? “You know I’m closer to you than anyone.”

“Right now? After this week? I’m not so sure. But you will be.” His tail swishes behind him as he takes a menacing step toward you. “Come here,” he growls out. 

“We can talk about this, but I’m not going to—”

“Three.”

“Okay, are you seriously threatening me with a countdown?”

“Two.” 

“That’s my thing! You know, when you won’t let me get out of bed, or when you bite too hard, or—”

He doesn’t let you get to “one.”

When he bursts forward at superhuman speed, he doesn’t even give you the chance to run. 

You’re in his arms in an instant, thrashing wildly as he tries to pull you both to the floor. “You’re heavy as fuck!” you bark at him. “Let me go!”

“No.” He overpowers you easily, lowering you to the carpet and quickly pinning you there. He only takes a moment to revel in your submission—your high squeaks and whimpers and feeble attempts to swat him off. Evidently, he has bigger plans for you.

While you wriggle beneath him, he deftly kicks off his sweats and quickly deals with your clothes. You’re wearing only a nightshirt—his, you notice all too late—and completely vulnerable to his impatience.

He rips a line straight down the middle, clumsily shrugging the worn fabric off you. While you’re too busy gawking to register his actions, he slides down your body, coming to a halt at your traitorously wet heat. 

“Usually, at least a little bit of my scent lingers here,” he says, inhaling you deeply. “You’ve lost it after not taking me for so long. But we’ll fix it, won’t we?”

When you don’t respond, his eyes flash up at you. “Won’t we?”

“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, signing away your fate.

“Yeah, we will.” Surging forward, he places an open-mouthed kiss to your entrance, swirling his tongue into you without warning. His ensuing groan could start a national scandal. 

“I’m gonna let you go, all right?” He nips your inner thigh. “Don’t try to run from me. I’ll catch you.” 

He watches closely as he eases off of you, but there’s no need—you obey. 

“Good girl,” he mocks, and you break his gaze with a huff. 

Chuckling, he sweeps his hair back and lies down on the carpet, grabbing your arm and dragging you to him. “Sit on me.”

“…What?”

“My face. Sit on it.”

“…What?” 

“Oh, I get it. Is this a ‘make me’ kind of thing? Well, if you insis—”

“No!” You hold your hands out in defense, grimacing when he grins at you. “You know we’ve never…done that before.”

He shrugs. “First time for everything. Hop on.”

You stay put, shaking your head with vigor no matter how hard your center pulses. “What if you can’t breathe?”

“Don’t need to.”

“I think you do, but okay.” Playing with your fingers, you search for another excuse. “What if I’m too heavy?”

Valko’s smile slips, and his top lip curls as he looks at you flatly. “Now you’re just insulting me.” 

In retrospect, you should’ve known that one wouldn’t get you very far.

“Fine,” you concede shakily. Crawling toward him, you put your hands on either side of his massive body and sit down on him in a straddle. Gingerly, you scoot up, and up, and up, until your hips are right below his chin. His smirk widens all the way. 

“Last chance to back out,” you offer helplessly. How would grilled porcupine taste?

“In your dreams.” In an instant, his arm shoots out behind you and guides you forward. You cry out the second your sensitive flesh meets his skin, nearly cursing from the foreign sensation. 

For a moment, all he does is breathe you in. Lewd, deep inhales, trying to siphon the scent from your depths. “Missed this,” he murmurs, words slightly muffled. “Missed you. Fuck, you’re so good. You smell so good.”

You’re afraid to look down, but you don’t have to. You can hear his smile.

Instead, you look behind you, seeing that his thick, veiny length is flushed and leaking already. Your gulp echoes in your ears. 

A soft press of his lips to your throbbing clit pulls you back to your senses. With another kiss, he positions the bud over his nose and your entrance over his mouth, so he’s sure to catch all your desire.

When he squeezes your hip, you know he’s asking for more. Gently, timidly, you rock against his face to appease him. Valko, though, ever observant when you’re involved, knows you’re withholding your full weight. 

And he won’t have it. 

Simultaneously, he delivers a sharp slap to your backside and nips your clit in warning. When you squeal out into the cool air, he soothes the sting with a searing lash of his tongue. 

“I’m trying!” you cry. “Whenever we do this, I’m always the one on my back! I feel weird.”

Squeezing your hips, he lifts you up just enough to speak. “Tough.”

Then, he plops you right back down, the smack of skin on skin spreading a wildfire across your cheeks.

Eager to explore, he glides his tongue around your core, poking and prodding wherever he likes. When you arch away from the pleasure, too sensitive to stay still, he decides he’s had enough. 

His tight grip on your hips is his first act of defiance. But when he starts bouncing you on his face, alternating between his mouth and nose, you’re more than ready to throw in the towel. 

“Valko!” you whine. Up and down, down and up. Up and down again and again. How long has he wanted this?

A response would require a pause in his actions, so of course, he doesn’t provide one. Instead, he flattens his tongue against your clit and makes you grind your hips down onto him, like he’s nothing but an extension of you. “Valko!” you repeat, stars quickly clouding your vision.

All he offers is an unburdened grunt, clearly not planning on stopping anytime soon. And why would he, when there’s so much to lap up?

A mix of his saliva and your arousal pools between you, with sound effects previously unheard of filling the room. You’re so wet, at one point, you almost slide down his face to his forehead—but he hauls you back up with a laugh, the vibrations only exacerbating the issue. When you pull at his hair, shy and embarrassed, he merely sucks your clit into his mouth and releases it with a pop. 

Captive to his relentless touch, it isn’t long before your muscles contract and release, sending more and more wetness gushing toward his waiting mouth. 

Your mind is a haze as he licks you clean, making sure not to waste a single drop. You do register, though, how he inhales once again when he’s finished. “Smells like me again. That’s better.”

Thinking his wrath has exhausted itself, you feel your body deflate like a popped balloon. You’re more than ready to melt into the sheets and sleep off the worst of the aftermath. 

“We should seal the deal, though. Just to be sure.”

Valko has other plans.

Before you can blink, he flips you over with force, driving your hands and knees into the carpet. When you yelp, he squeezes your backside in apology, only to slip his fingers down to your open slit. Once he confirms that you’re ready for him, he braces his hands on your hips and slides into you with ease. 

Your startled gasp is his grand opportunity. As you cry out his name, he shoves his fingers into your open mouth, making you sputter and swallow around them. With his other hand, he clamps your jaw shut so you’re forced to bite him, your blunt teeth barely a threat against his skin. 

All the while, he’s moaning and laughing, hips stuttering from his rapid thrusts. Each time his base slaps your backside, you feel him grow larger and larger, until you’re being speared on something you’re not sure you can take. But as your muscles contract around him once more, squeezing him with all that they have, you don’t think that matters anymore.

In tune with your own release, hot spurts shoot deep into your channel, followed by a searing, swollen pressure you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to. It’s at this point that the last of your strength crumbles. But when you start to slump into the floor, you find you can’t move too far—not without bringing Valko with you. 

As you both catch your breath, locked together until the comedown, he slides his hand out of your mouth and slaps your cheek lightly, signaling for you to open your screwed-shut eyes. When you do, he sticks his drool-coated fingers into his own mouth, canines poking into his flesh as he swipes his tongue greedily. 

All you can do is whine.

You don’t know when your bodies will loosen up enough for you to separate. All you know is that he’s got you here, right where he wants you, for a long, long, agonizingly long time. 

──────

“Are you satisfied?” you deadpan as the beast finally tucks you into bed. 

“For now.” You can hear his smirk as he flicks off the lights. Doesn’t make much of a difference, though.

It’s dawn. 

“But you can check back with me in an hour. Maybe my answer will be different.”

“In an hour, I will be dead to the world and recovering from you,” you grumble. Suddenly, you purse your lips. “I’m gonna miss that cone, you know.”

Even in the dim morning light, you can see his brows furrow. “What?” 

“You looked cute in it. Like a little puppy.” Reaching out, you grab his face and squish his cheeks between your fingers. “So cute.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but his tail thumps the mattress. “Whatever. It did have its benefits, though. Tonight was so good, I wouldn’t mind a repeat.”

“You really think you can do that again? Seven whole days, no contact?”

“‘Course I do. It wasn’t that hard for me.”

Your eyes narrow into slits. “Not even you believe that.” 

“Yeah. This was fun, though,” he says through a yawn. “We should do it again sometime. Goodnight.”

As he rolls over and tucks his tail around you, blanketing you in half his body weight, a nagging thought won’t leave your head.

Should you switch vets? 

Even primal was an understatement for how messy it got when you were in heat around your roommate while he was in rut. You and Valko both tried your hardest not to do anything stupid while you were like this but that backfired so immensely that there was really no point attempting to keep your promise in the first place.

It wasn't exactly immediate though. In fact, you both did surprisingly well holding out for 3 whole days while being so desperate that you could feel each other's body heat even in separate rooms. If you had it your way, you would have held out for your entire heat cycle. Yes, your roommate was incredibly hot, muscular, huge, and frankly exactly your type, but you weren't exactly the forward type. You were used to spending your heat locked up in your room, grinding against your vibrator and your pillows until you were friction burned. You'd never had a mate before, and by the looks of it, neither had Valko.

Even when you two weren't like this, you could tell he was always nervous to be around you. Every time he caught your scent he looked like he was torn between ravaging you and running away. And the strategically placed pillow on his lap that was moved there every time you two sat next to each other on the couch definitely was not a coincidence. It didn't do much to hide what he thought he was hiding, though. But you never told him that your eyes were sharp, so how could he have known? :(

Clearly, you didn't tell him that your ears were sharp either—especially during your heat when all of your senses got amped up to the max—since he was whining like a pathetic little puppy in his room, rutting against his pillow hard enough for you to hear his bedframe creak in time with his movements. Your rooms weren't side by side, but they were close enough for you to feel like you heard him in every atom of your body. And it didn't help that your own heat had your head spinning already.

Just let it pass. He'll stop eventually, right?

Nope. It's been 2 hours and somehow he's gotten louder. Your body is still thrumming and if anyone saw the puddle of wetness that had formed on your bed beneath you, they'd probably think you wet yourself because of how large it was. You couldn't take it anymore.

Of course, that's when the noise finally stopped. But you couldn't care less. Before you could stop yourself, you stood up, hot feet padding against the cold floor of your apartment as you made your way towards your bedroom door, fueled by a mix of frustration and unbearable lust. Still, you didn't plan to do anything with him. He'd still be getting a piece of your mind no matter what though.

As soon as you reached your door, the doorknob turned before you could even touch it.

Valko stood on the other side of the threshold, huge hand still poised against the knob while he stared at you with wide eyes as if he wasn't the one who just barged in. He looks absolutely wrecked, skin flushed and sweaty, chest heaving, veins popping in his forearms. It was painfully obvious what he had been doing up until 5 minutes ago.

You both stared at each other for far too long, your scents mingling in a way that made the both of you dizzy with something that neither of you could hold back anymore. You both swallow audibly. You're so fucked.

Before either of you know it, you're pinned down on your bed with a hunky beast of a man grinding his fat cock against your clothed folds with a desperation unlike anything you could have imagined. His sweat damp shirt was lifted, held between his teeth. His sharp canines practically tore the drool soaked fabric, his pretty eyes nearly rolling back in his head until only the whites were visible every time your hips moved in time with his. His ears were pinned flat against his head, fluffy tail trashing side to side so quickly he could've cooled you both off if it weren't for your heat cycles.

"Ko... Valko..." you mewled, just as desperate as him at this point. You needed him inside. Everything in your body was screaming to feel him knotting you.

All you got in response was a low whine that mirrored your own pathetic whimpers. His cock was so hard that it stood upright against his perfect abs, forcing him to put nearly half of his body weight onto you just to rut against your heat, leaving his leaky cock wedged tightly between both of your bodies. The added weight made your arousal even more unendurable. You felt like you were genuinely going to start crying if he wasn't inside you soon.

"Val...! Please—need it inside..." Your shame had flown out the window. And all that pride you had as a virgin who never needed a mate? That was gone as soon as you saw him at your door.

He finally dropped his shirt from his mouth with a low growl, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he tried his best not to cum right then and there from your begging. Valko's shaky hands slid your shorts down your trembling legs until you heard his breath hitch at the full sight of you.

"Fuck, baby, you're so pretty." He sounds absolutely inebriated from just looking at you. He's watched porn before, of course, but those girls couldn't even compete with you. He didn't think twice before his huge tip started nudging against your drooling pussy, pressing against your clit before finally finding your hole. You gasped, both of you moaning just from the quick touch.

"Hurry..." you whisper hoarsely without even thinking first. He gulps. This is new terrain. He honestly didn't think he'd ever make it this far with you in a million years.

"I'm trying, pup." He attempts a first thrust inside but fails against your tightness, his cock popping right back up to slap against your clit, making you both whimper at the stimulation.

"Val... come on... push it harder" you whine impatiently, feet kicking slightly against the mattress. You need him so bad it hurts.

"I'm trying," he repeated in a huff, starting to press his cockhead more insistently against your stubbornly tight opening "m-maybe if ya weren't so damn tight I...could—hah... f-..fit..."

As if your wishes were granted by the gods, his tip finally slips inside, unexpectedly followed by the entire length of his cock due to the force of his hips and the slickness of your cunt, filling you to the brim with a wet squelch. Oh fuck. You were so full that you couldn't even make any noise, just open and close your mouth like a fish out of water as you stared at one another in absolute disbelief. His cock was nestled as deep as it could go, tip kissing your cervix so hard you could swear you felt it in your throat.

Before you could even fully process what just happened, you were already falling apart and squirting on his cock with a delayed, broken moan, eyes rolling back in your head as you cum so suddenly and so hard.

"Holy shit. You just— fuck-" Valko hardly has any time to be shocked at what just happened before he's spilling his own ropes of hot cum inside your tight, wet heat.

Your broken sounds and curses trail off into a whiney little yelp when you feel the bulbous knot at the base of his cock catch on your tight ring of muscle.

His hips move again without his permission, completely driven by the need to breed you nice and deep.

Pop!

"Valko..!!" You can't figure out if you're in pain from the pleasure or getting your pleasure from the pain, but before you can find the solution you're already being flooded with Valko's second load.

"S-so...mmph.. so good... takin' my knot so perfect, baby. Perfect pup—fuck—gonna have my whole litter f'me..." Valko growls, utterly and pathetically pussy drunk. He whines quietly as his huge body collapses on top of you, sharp teeth finding your neck and branding you as his in every way possible. His mate. His soon-to-be mother of his children. His everything.

────────

The knot didn't go down for hours, but as soon as it did, you two were back to fucking like animals until neither of you could anymore. Mating season was rough. (And so was the sex)

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Written by request! 🐺 © All written work is made by @messymew . Do not copy, translate, steal, or feed AI with my work.

perm: @typicalme23 @galaconic @placeofsupercooltopics