Valko, who still can’t believe that you are okay with him being a werewolf. How could you be this perfect?
Valko, who now pops out his ears and tail every time you two are in your apartment.
Valko, who definitely does not hope for constant pets and scratches. Totally not. The way he immediately leans into your hand is just a coincidence.
Valko, who was endlessly annoyed by his inability to control his tail around you. The traitorous thing started wagging if you smiled at him, laughed at one of his jokes, called his name, brought him food, complimented him or simply looked in his general direction.
Valko, who once tried holding his tail still with one hand while talking to you because it simply would not stop wagging. It somehow made the situation even more embarrassing.
Valko, who went on a twenty-minute, painfully nerdy rant about the difference between dogs and wolves when you teasingly snatched the last chocolate milk from him because “chocolate is poisonous to dogs.”
Valko, who ended that rant with “Besides, I am a werewolf. That is a major difference,” as though that single line somehow settled the entire argument.
Valko, who dramatically plopped onto the floor with his back facing you, ears drooping and tail lying lifelessly beside him while letting out the most pitiful little whines after you drank the last chocolate milk staring at him
Valko, who tried very hard to ignore you, when you began playfully poking him, only to fail miserably when you scratched his ear.
Valko, who tried to playfight with you just to save a bit of dignity.
Valko, who then realized that during the scuffle you somehow ended up lying on his lap, desperately trying to swat his hands away while giggling.
Valko, who immediately stopped and looked away, covering his stupid smile with a hand and hoping you would not notice his bright red ears.
Valko, who once corrected a documentary out loud for an entire hour. You sat beside him eating popcorn, while he became progressively more passionate over “bad research.” By the end, you weren't watching the documentary anymore. You were watching him.
Valko, who now refuses to watch certain wildlife programs with you unless he gets to provide commentary, because otherwise he will spend the whole time muttering corrections under his breath like a very handsome, very irritated professor.
Valko, who somehow managed to turn every casual conversation into an hour-long lecture about mythology, ecology, ancient history, astronomy, programming, obscure game mechanics and whatever was holding his interest at the moment. And you actually enjoyed listening even if you could understand maybe twenty percent of it.
Valko, who lights up every single time you ask, “Can you explain that?” because nobody has ever given him permission to infodump quite so enthusiastically.
Valko, who always apologizes halfway through one of his rambles with, “Sorry, I'm talking too much.” Only for you to answer, “No, keep going.” He falls in love with you all over again.
Valko, who reads otome games alongside you, somehow always managing to get the perfect ending for each route on his first try without ever using a guide.
Valko, who teases you mercilessly for your unexplainable ability to get only the bad endings on your first attempt.
Valko, who sulks and whines when, in retaliation, you start fangirling over every werewolf love interest.
Valko, who discovered that the quickest way to lose every coherent thought in his head was for you to scratch behind both ears at the same time while quietly telling him he was a good boy. His brain simply disconnects.
Valko, who gets flustered whenever you call him adorable, because he is a terrifying alpha wolf chairman mastermind, not some domesticated fluffball.
Valko, who is, unfortunately for his pride, also very much a domesticated fluffball in your apartment.
Valko, who loves making spreadsheets. He once found a simple notepad file with a list of games you wanted to buy. An hour later it had turned into an elaborate color-coded spreadsheet with release dates, genres, platforms, prices, estimated discount prices, review scores, and little notes like “wait for sale” and “high priority.”
Valko, who enthusiastically built an entire spreadsheet ranking every board game the two of you owned by complexity, average game length, replayability, strategic depth, and “relationship damage potential.”
Valko, who unconsciously mirrors your posture. You cross your legs. So does he. You stretch. He stretches. You catch him doing it.
“...I can explain.”
“You really can't.”
Valko, who became ridiculously excited whenever the two of you visited a museum. He somehow knew something about every single exhibit. You'd quietly wander behind him while he bounced from display to display, happily explaining obscure historical details with enough enthusiasm to accidentally attract a small crowd of strangers. He wouldn't notice until someone applauded.
Valko, who panicked the second he found you curled up in a ball on the couch because your cramps had hit you hard. The sheer terror on his face made it look like you were minutes away from dying, when in reality you were just in pain and trying not to cry into a blanket.
Valko, who immediately called several of his cousins to cross-reference every possible tip for helping you. Heat pack? Done. Tea? On it. Snacks? Already on the way. Painkillers? He had three different brands lined up like he was preparing for a medical emergency.
Valko, who got teased mercilessly by his cousins for his overreaction, because he had kept them company during their own periods before. “It’s different when it’s her, okay?” he snapped, only to go red-faced the second everyone started laughing harder.
Valko, who hovered for the rest of the evening like an anxious guard dog, bringing you water, medicine, your favorite snacks and a blanket you did not even remember asking for.
Valko, who hated it whenever your period happened to fall on a full moon week, because that meant there would be a full twenty-four hours where he could not be by your side to help you. And that was completely unacceptable.
Valko, who seriously debated locking himself in a bunker during every full moon, because he was terrified his instincts would somehow drag him straight to you.
Valko, who spent weeks designing increasingly ridiculous containment plans. Reinforced steel doors. Silver-lined restraints. Automated sedative dispensers. His family eventually confiscated the blueprints after realizing he was actually considering building the thing.
Valko, who, despite knowing full well that you accepted him, still acted like a tragic little beast every time a full moon approached, because he kept imagining the worst-case scenarios and convincing himself he had to protect you from himself.
Valko, who appeared on your balcony during a full moon anyway, because he couldn't control himself.
Valko, who broke your couch within five minutes by enthusiastically flopping onto it and rolling all over the cushions, breathing in your scent with complete bliss.
Valko, who woke up the next morning surrounded by the remains of your couch and immediately entered a state of complete panic.
Valko, who almost passed out when you simply giggled and told him he was “really adorable and fluffy.”
Valko, who spent the next hour cursing the full moon to hell and back while hacking into every street camera in the city to locate and delete footage of a giant wolf running through the streets, and simultaneously ordering a replacement couch for you.
Valko, who loudly celebrates every single one of your victories like you'd just won an Olympic medal.
“You beat the boss!”
“It was a tutorial.”
“A WIN IS A WIN.”
Valko, whose cousins have started a betting pool over when he's finally going to say “I love you.”
Valko, who insists they're all wrong.
“I'll say it when the moment is perfect.”
“You've had, like, forty perfect moments.”
“They weren't perfect enough.”
Valko, who secretly had an entire folder on his computer titled Potential Confessions v38 (FINAL) (Actually Final). Inside were dozens of confession drafts. There was also a folder called Potential Confessions v39 (FINAL FOR REAL THIS TIME). And another called Potential Confessions FINAL FINAL DEFINITELY. None of them had been used yet.
Valko, who somehow managed to turn researching “cute date ideas” into a twelve-hour rabbit hole that ended with him reading historical papers about medieval courtship rituals because he wanted to know where modern dating traditions came from. He forgot to actually plan the date.
Valko, who starts noticing every little sign that you love him back but refuses to assume. Because what if he is wrong? What if he ruins something precious? So instead, he waits. And waits. And waits. Despite everyone around him screaming that you are practically already married.
Valko, who eventually decides that it’s time. He takes your hand, clears his throat, and says, “I have calculated every possible future in which I do not tell you this tonight, and every single one ends in regret. Therefore, by the laws of probability, emotional attachment and the extremely compelling data gathered over the past several months, the statistically correct conclusion is that I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.”
Valko, who looks one step away from passing out because you stare at him with the softest expression in the world and say, “That was the nerdiest love confession I have ever heard.”
Valko, who feels he is about to combust, when you blush and whisper “I love you too”.
Valko, who later admits, very quietly, that he had been terrified of saying it wrong. And you just take his face in your hands and tell him he said it perfectly.
its actually easy to de-enshittify your digital experience all you need to do is install this browser extension and this browser extension and this browser extension and input this custom script into the advanced box and go into your system settings and reconfigure all these options you didnt know existed and change your entire workflow and switch to this alternative operating system and this alternative web browser and this alternative chat client and this alternative word processor and this alternative- sorry that one turned out to be malware delete that one okay now double check your task manager for unwanted background processes and element block these ads and invest in a good VPN and append all your searches with AI blocking keywords and wait a few years until everything you just did becomes shitty too so you can do it all over again okay kitten. its literally that easy.
my hill to die on is that if we had some real conversations about what eating disorders are, like, definitionally, a loooooot of people would realize they have eating disorders that should not be normalized
a ton of people have unexpectedly followed me over the last 2 days so here is my rent-lowering gunshot:
the american south is the most racially diverse and poorest region of the united states, and any political sentiment that treats the south is stupid or expendable is inherently racist and classist. a lot of y'all are racist and classist. the south is also the heart of american culture. argue with a wall. you cannot deny that everybody in the entire world does not emulate artists from atlanta. there is vested interest in keeping the south poor and uneducated BECAUSE this is the most racially diverse region in this country. if you actually give a fuck about progress, you would fight for the south, not mock us.
if you want to experience life more deeply you have to find more beauty. stop training yourself to dismiss, to mock, to assume the worst all the time — when you do this you build walls between yourself and the world. and after a while you stop feeling the warmth of it entirely.
beauty requires openness. it asks you to let things reach you, to soften enough to be moved. it’s not naive to see beauty everywhere—it’s a skill, a form of intelligence, a kind of quiet bravery. because it is so much easier to critique than to create, to detach than to engage, to dismiss than to love.
let yourself be affected. let yourself find things beautiful and let that be enough. life is not asking you to be cool, sitting on the sidelines and nitpicking everything. it’s asking you to see life and experience it fully.
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
izzy806
turnnoffyourmind
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