#come tie me up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mothwingwritings · 8 months

Text

Save The Date

F!Reader X Jean Pierre Polnareff

Today is my birthday!!! Yaaay! To celebrate, I wrote this self-indulgent, out of left field, Polnareff-kidnaps-you-on-your-bday-and-tries-to-force-his-love-on-you story because why not? I’ve been wanting to write more Jojo and I love Polnareff’s himbo ass sooo here it is. :D I decided to go back to my roots with this one, it was therapeutic loool.

This was a bit rushed because I want to get it finished by today, but I hope you enjoy!!! Thank you for reading and for being here! Love y’all~ ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Warnings: Kidnapping, imprisonment, reader is restrained this whole fic, forced/nonconsensual touching and kissing, brief mentions of sex, delusional Polnareff, probably horrible butchering of French pet names (I am sorry any French speakers, forgive my google translate indiscretions (；´∀｀))

Everything was perfect.

From the varying balloons and streamers that dotted the room, to the bows he had placed so lovingly in your hair, Jean Pierre Polnareff had worked hard to make this presentation immaculate. It was what his baby deserved after all-it wasn’t like it was your birthday every day.

It took weeks of planning and organizing to get everything just right. He’d spent countless hours calling the best caterers and bakers in town, and spent all his down time consulting with party planners to make sure this soiree would go off without a hitch. He was even able to score the perfect dress for you from the fancy boutique down the street-the very same dress you had been casting wistful (yet furtive) glances at for quite some time. The moment the ornate frock had gone on sale he could barely conceal his excitement and ended up purchasing it right away. He was sure you would be thrilled to receive the gown as a gift, and also be touched by his intuitive nature, his knack for picking up on the things you desired.

It was just your style, and he knew as soon as you donned it you would look nothing short of gorgeous. Envisioning you in it made his heart flutter, the smile that would engulf your face as you twirl around in it, giggling in sheer delight as the fabric swirls prettily around you, was sure to be a sight for sore eyes. It was hard waiting to see the dream become a reality.

When he finally got the chance to slip it on your body, he needed a moment to compose himself before he proceeded with the rest of the party setup. He had been correct in his assumption-you looked breathtaking, exactly like a princess in your new frilly, satin, dress. He wished he could have arranged to also have someone do your hair and makeup to really complete the look, but it was too risky to chance it. As much as he would have loved for you to wake up to a complete makeover, he couldn’t trust anyone to not be suspicious of the arrangement he had currently setup for you, and he dared not muck you up with his own mediocre skills.

But at the same time it didn’t really matter that he couldn’t have a cosmetologist stop by, you always looked perfect and ethereal, dolled up or otherwise.

Everything was splayed out before you, not a single item out of place. The table was neatly set with his finest dishes and cutlery, set at the ready to be topped with the feast that he was preparing for you. Vibrant bouquets comprised of only the fullest and brightest blooms of your favorite flowers sat on each end of the table, and fragrant candles cast flickering light over the scene, exuding a very romantic aura. Dinner (one of your favorite meals) was nearly done cooking in the kitchen, and its scent had begun to enticingly fill the room. He could practically hear your stomach rumble in anticipation.

The centerpiece of it all was an elaborate cake, decadent and rich, your name and a sweet birthday message sprawled on its surface in a pretty, curving script. It was far too large for just two people to consume, but that just meant there would be more to look forward to in the future. Maybe you would want to freeze some of it to share with him again on your next birthday, like some couples do with their wedding cake. The correlation made him blush as he fixated on it, giddy as he fantasized about all that lay ahead for the two of you.

With everything assembled, all he had to do was wait. He parked himself opposite you at the table, dressed to the nines to try and match you. As impressive as his finely tailored suit was, he didn’t hold a candle to your radiance. He sighed dreamily as he took you in, his eyes roving over your peaceful face while slumber still claimed you. You had a habit of incessantly frowning or shooting him questionable glances while you were awake. Whenever you noticed that his attention was turned your way, a grimace inevitably followed. This moment of peace where he could drink you in without any backlash was bliss, and as much as he was excited for you to wake up, he couldn’t help but relish this serene alone time he was sharing with you.

No kicking and screaming, no crying, no unnecessarily hurtful words flung his way when all he’s trying to do is show you love. Right now there was just you, him, and this lovingly crafted display of his affection that he prepared just for you, the love of his life. A small mountain of presents towered behind him, waiting patiently to be picked open by your delicate fingers. Most of them were little things he had picked up for you here and there that he thought you would like, trinkets and baubles he felt exuded a very ‘you’ aura and thus needed to be brought home to you. He used to try and give them to you the moment he purchased them, but you would always turn them away, telling him that he was spending way too much money on you. Silly girl, no amount of currency could ever be a waste on you.

The gift pile was a veritable array of goodies sure to delight you, teeming with big things, small things, and one very important thing that had been weighing heavily in his pocket for the past week. He had always planned on presenting it to you on your birthday (there was no greater gift than a perfectly cut rock signifying your eternal union, after all), but carried it around with him as a good luck charm of sorts, keeping it near till the moment he could give it to you. He kept it in his breast pocket as close to his heart as he could, childishly hoping that the placement would infuse it with the immense love he felt for you, each heart beat coursing through it making it shine more dazzlingly.

Though he enjoyed carrying it around with him, the time was soon approaching for it to go to its intended home, sitting prettily on your ring finger. Musing on it made him glance down at your hands as they rested daintily on the chairs arm rest. He tried not to focus on the straps he had placed around your arms, holding you in place to prevent you from bolting the moment you woke up. You were such a jumpy, shy thing, inclined to run and hide the moment you spotted him. He knew this setting would be overwhelming for you, that you would not take all the extra attention so easily, hence why the sedation and extra restraints were needed. As much as he wanted to do a more natural approach, there was just no way to keep hold of you otherwise. It was a necessary measure, but it was one he hated nonetheless.

Knowing you would be upset when you awoke filled him with dismay, but ultimately the drugs and confines were all just a means to an ends. After the initial shock wore off, you were certain to be pleased by all his effort.

Hesitantly, he reached out to grasp your hands, holding them gently in his own. His thumb slowly grazed your knuckles, tracing small circles over your soft skin. Were they not strapped down, he would have chanced giving your hand a kiss, his lips yearning to make contact with you in any way they could. It truly was a shame that you were so adverse to touch, for he constantly longed to handle you tenderly, treating you so lovingly you would become putty in his hands, melt at his ministrations. He could clearly picture the expressions you would make while he busied himself, running his fingers gingerly across your flesh, memorizing every inch of you in faithful reverence, kisses following where his fingers once tread.

It was his most avid desire, but he had yet to act on the fantasy. His dream would come true someday, but first you had to get used to him. Ease into your new life.

It was a torturous process, waiting for you to warm up, but he knew it would be worth it in the end. Besides, with how bashful you were he figured he would be your first time for so many things, and that was exhilarating in its own right.

Suddenly, you stirred. Polnareff perked up, his eyes darting to your face as he watched your own slowly blink open. You scrunched your face in discomfort, groaning as your head gradually rose from its lulled posture. The after effects of the heavy drugs made your movements sluggish and groggy, another small groan slipping past your lips as you rotated your shoulders in an attempt to stretch.

Your gaze eventually landed on Polnareff, his face lighting up when you didn’t immediately look away. Still heavily sedated, confusion dominated your features. At this point, you were unsure where you were, what was going on, and probably perplexed by Polnareff’s presence, maybe even so bewildered you didn’t yet fully remember who Polnareff was. A warm smile graced his lips as he watched you come to, your befuddled state too cute to resist.

“Ma chérie,” Polnareff purred, his voice drawing you further from your hazy state, “I’m glad you are finally awake. It wouldn’t do to have you sleep through your whole party now, would it?”

Disorientation was giving way to realization, a look of fear and agitation morphing your lax expression into a sharp scowl. You began to pull against your bindings, your tugs becoming sharper the moment you felt resistance, alarm mounting when you realized how trapped you truly were. Your eyes locked onto Polnareff’s, the haze that had clouded them gone, replaced with resentful animosity. It was painful being at the end of your enmity, but he reminded himself it was to be expected. You would be filled with contentment very soon, he just had to get you there.

“Jean what the hell,” Your words came out listless and slurred. As the final dregs of the drugs wore off, you struggled to get your baring’s. “Where am I? What is all this? Did you… did you fucking drug me?”

Panic was starting to course through you, wide blown eyes filling with tears that you tried desperately to blink back. Your breathing grew labored as you started to thrash, trying your hardest to free yourself from the man who had imprisoned you, despite your compromised state.

Concerned you would hurt yourself, Polnareff gripped your hands tightly to try and sooth you, but it only caused your struggling to grow in intensity. Noting this, he quickly relinquished his hold, instead opting to cup your cheeks in a manner he hoped you would find more reassuring. Your skin was moist from your freshly fallen tears, his thumb easily sliding across its delicate surface, trying to wipe them away as best he could. You attempted to recoil from his touch, but the restraints and his firm hold kept you in place.

“Please amoureuse calm down,” he shushed you, worry reflected in his eyes, “You’ll end up hurting yourself if you keep pulling like that-“

“Fuck off,” you seethed between clenched teeth, “Let me go NOW Polnareff, or I swear I’ll-“

He clamped a hand over your mouth, halting any further commentary. A deep frown etched itself into his face as he stared you down, patience waning at the immediate vehemence you directed his way. Today was not supposed to go this way, he expected some backlash sure, but you weren’t supposed to recover from the medicine he had given you so rapidly. It was supposed to take time, fester a bit so that you would slowly come around, giving him plenty of time to explain things to you and have you get used to the arrangement naturally.

All the extra precautions were to help you see this for what it was, a true celebration to exhibit his unwavering dedication to you, and not whatever horrific falsity you had concocted in your anxiety addled brain. He cursed himself for not giving you the larger dose as he originally intended, he was just so concerned you may sleep too deeply and miss out on your special day altogether.

“You need to be quiet now, (Name),” His voice was low, a serious edge to it that froze your thrashing, granting him your full regard, “I know you are upset and confused, it’s only natural with how you woke up, and I don’t blame you for it. But there is no need for your ire ma cherie, look around you,” he released his hold, sweeping his hand across the room to show off his handiwork, “This is all for you bella. I worked so hard to make everything perfect for you because you deserve nothing less. Each decoration, accessory, snack, present-they were all assembled lovingly with you in mind. I’ve been preparing this for months, so please don’t be-“

“I don’t want any of this,” you once more cut him off, your voice choppy as you forced it out through shaky sobs, “I never wanted any of this. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t feel for you this way Polnareff? What you are doing is wrong, this entire ‘party’ is wrong! Please, if you really care about me at all just let me go and-“

Swiftly, he slammed his hand down on the table before you, rattling the dishes so violently it was surprising that none of them broke. Startled by the sudden upset, you lurched in your restraints, instantly shutting up out of fear. Your body quivered in distress, worried that if you said another word it would only further enrage him, and the assault next go around may not stop at just a whacked table.

“Stop it,” He annunciated each word, his eyes holding a sharpness that sent chills down your spine, “You don’t know what you are saying mon cœur, you are just blindly judging things before you even try them.” He took a shaky breath before continuing, “I have been patient, I have been kind, I have given you nothing but love, yet you constantly keep me at arm’s length, turning away from me in disgust even though I worship the ground you walk on. Please for one minute stop being so damn ungrateful and just be satisfied with all the hard work I have put in to meeting your lofty, unreasonable standards, or else you may actually have something to cry about.”

Tears continued to pour down your cheeks as your panic-stricken eyes drank him in. Your bottom lip quivered, sniffles punctuating your breathing, but you didn’t speak another word. He felt momentarily guilty for going off on you (on your birthday, no less), but seeing the success his rare instance of harshness awarded him quickly overshadowed any negativity he felt, instead washing him in a feeling of victory.

Now that he got his point across, hopefully you could proceed as planned and things would be smooth sailing from here on out.

In the other room the oven started to noisily beep, signaling that dinner was ready to be served. He rose to his feet, hovering over you before making his way towards the kitchen.

“Ah, perfect timing,” he forced a smile, doing his best to hide the hurt your brusque behavior had inflicted upon him. He squared his shoulders, composing himself before continuing. “Here is how the night will progress, amour. I will prepare our meals and then we will enjoy them peacefully in each other’s company. Once we are done, we can dig into this cake I ordered especially for you from the gourmet bakery down the street, the one that’s so popular it has a wait list.”

He sighed dejectedly, hanging his head in defeat before continuing, “You may not care, but I think it’s important that you take into consideration just how much of myself I poured into this celebration before you make another snide, thoughtless remark.”

His eyes flicked down to the cake, a brief look of sadness wavering within them before he directed his attention back your way. “It’s lovely though, isn’t it? I am sure it will taste just as good. Don’t worry, if you haven’t calmed yourself in time to be let loose I will gladly feed you chérie. Even when you are being particularly… bratty, I would not want you to miss out on such a delicacy. Then, once our bellies are full you can start unwrapping this mound of presents behind me, and we will just pray that it doesn’t take us through the entire night.”

He chuckled, his demeanor beginning to soften as he spoke, appreciative of the obedience you were displaying and the lack of unwarranted commentary as he got through the itinerary for the night. “Finally, we will end the party with a gift that has been a long time coming, one that is a truly significant mark of our eternal bond. I know you will love it ma chérie, just as much as I will.”

He saw a shiver course through you at his words, a small, sad whimper tumbling from your lips as your shoulders sagged. The gravity of his allusion bore down on your small frame, shrinking you down in a poor attempt at hiding from your inescapable fate. He tutted when he saw your attitude shift, his hand again finding your cheek to give it a gentle stroke. This time, you didn’t flinch away.

“I know this is a lot to take in ma beauté and I am sorry it frightened you at first,” he leaned down, planting a lingering kiss to your forehead before proceeding, “But you will come around very soon, I know you will. You are my sweet girl, and after you experience what a great time we are about to have you will be so overcome with joy that you will barely be able to stand it. In fact, you may already feel a little silly for giving me such a hard time, am I right?”

Suddenly, his expression turned bashful. A rosy hue illuminated his cheeks as he started to fidget uncomfortably, a slightly embarrassed looking smile gracing his lips. Your body turned cold as his hand slid from your cheek to your shoulder, idly toying with the thin strap of your dress. His roving eyes fell to your chest, a hungry look flashing through them before they found their way back to your gaze.

“And then, after you have finished going through all your gifts, to thank me for what a gracious lover I have been maybe… maybe I can unwrap something too?”

You shudder at his insinuation, a look of pure dread donning your features.

“Polnareff,” you choked out, strained words struggling to form one final, soft plea, “please.”

Before you could utter another word, his mouth aggressively claimed your own. He pressed hard against you, as if to engrain the scorching feeling of his lips on to your flesh. You whined, squirming against him until he pulled away, staring at you with longing, love struck eyes.

“Happy birthday, ma chérie. Let’s make this one to remember.”

#Polnareff you silly guy I would have come to this party regardless you didn't have to tie me up :)#yandere jojo x reader #yandere jojos bizarre adventure #jojos bizarre adventure x reader #yandere jojos bizarre adventure x y/n #yandere jojos bizarre adventure x reader #jojos bizarre adventure x y/n #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff x reader #yandere polnareff x reader #jean pierre polnareff x reader #jean pierre polnareff x y/n #polnareff x y/n #dark fic #yandere x reader #yandere fic #mothwingswritings #Thank you for reading!#and happy birthday to me and whoever else shares this bday! :D

117 notes · View notes

sirensdenof · 1 month

Text

🤭🤭🤪

#nerdy chicks #perfect butt #hotwives #preggo kink #sexy titts #come play with me 🍑😏#naughty wives #control my lush #rough kink #spank me daddy #tie me up

160 notes · View notes

greenerteacups · 11 days

Note

Re: your recent response about Draco wearing blue - fashion is not something I tend to pick up on (or understand very well generally), so I’m always curious to hear more about it! Do you have any other fashion thoughts you want to elaborate on? You’ve talked a bit about Draco and Hermione’s fashion, what about Harry or Ron?

Aw, yeah! I'll preface this by saying that the following is a combination of canon and headcanon; some of this is evidenced in the text of the fic, but some of it probably isn't, it's just something that's in my head when describing them.

Harry's pretty small in Lionheart, as a consequence of chronic malnutrition in childhood mixed with a genetic predisposition to it (James is canonically a short king, cf. "Hairy Little Christmas.") That means a lot of his muggle clothes don't fit well, being hand-me-downs from Dudley; in contrast, his school robes, which we know he got tailored at Malkin's, seem to fit normally (i.e., Harry fits better in the magical world, it's his home, it suits him). In general, Harry's fashion is "adequate, but not great," which makes sense; he never had the chance to choose his own clothes growing up, and then he went to boarding school with a uniform, so when would he develop a sense of style? Honestly, it's a relief for him to have one fewer decisions to make.

Like Ron, Harry's uniform isn't super meticulous, but he seems to make an effort. He does his tie and keeps his shirt clean, etc. (which makes sense; Harry cares about belonging here). When we see Harry out of uniform, he's usually wearing baggy t-shirts and jeans, which are the least nice clothes you could give to someone while still expecting them to last; they're also clothes that fit loose and hang long on his body (very late-80's + early 90's).

Ron, on the other hand, doesn't have any qualms about belonging in the magical world; he was born to it. This manifests as a laziness with his robes. He doesn't bother with his tie as much, if at all, and when he does it's not the right knot (Draco points it out in Book 3); since he's the brother of not one but two Head Boys, we have to assume that's deliberate, or that at some extent his lack of attention is a deliberate manifestation of something. Ron is youngest boy, he has self-esteem issues, and the way this manifests is by Ron never asking for anything and then getting sour when nothing goes his way. He doesn't try, so he can't feel bad when he fails. Besides which, when Ron does try to dress nice, it backfires; it's either an uncomfortable costume, like in "Operation Prewett," or it's a horrible hand-me-down, e.g. the Yule Ball outfit. Contrast him with the other Weasley boys, many of whom — especially the three oldest — have their own cultivated aesthetics, because they all know who they are. Ron is figuring that out, and it manifests in stylistically messy ways.

#fun fact: the scene with Harry and Draco at Madame Malkins is a scene I axed for efficiency #but I like to imagine they both went they just did on a different day #I looped back around to it at the end of book 3 like oh haha actually Narcissa prefers Savile Row #like I get why Harry's here — why is Draco putting off his tailoring until they're about to leave?#come to think of it: Draco grew up in a pureblood family. Doesn't he already own a set of robes? Or several?#Are the Hogwarts robes That Different from the bog-standard garment you'd have in your wardrobe as a 10y/o wizarding child?#this is of no consequence whatsoever #except on the set-dressing question of what it is the hogwarts robes actually look like #because the movies give us this simple (easily mass-produced for their billion extras) black hooded situation #I THOUGHT I read somewhere that the ties-by-house theme was fanon but I cannot be arsed to check #I just know that Harry is able to clock people by their House even when he doesn't know their names #which implies to me there's a visual marker; either a badge or a tie #greenteacup asks

20 notes · View notes

bruhstation · 7 months

Note

I have not stopped thinking about this AU you are RUINING ME

I am IN LOVE with your art, the rendering the form, the DESIGNS IN THIS AU? Oh my god, OH my god, the details down to Zorran has a Prince Albert's tie knot where as Zip has a double Windsor? Like Oh My God?????? OH MY GOD? Ah

The fucking "I have psychological problems so I'm stuck here with you troglodytes" Has been permanently implanted in my brain in Zorrans voice

JUMPS AROUND MY ROOM JUMPS AROUND MY ROOMCLAWS ON THE DRYWALL

ZIP MY CUTIE PATOOTIE HES SO CUTE......... HES SO SO CUTE YOU DREW HIM SO CUTE . MY LITTLE CLUELESS GANGSTER.... LOOK AT HIM GO!!!! HES SO HANDSOME!!!!! THAT SIDE HEADSHOT WITH HIS GIANT COAT..... SHAKES HIM AROUND and hi zorran. my favorite sane but not very well adjusted right hand man. hes also very cute ....... I love his twirly zig-zag stray hair. hopefully a bottle of krating daeng can help him with his endeavors

thank you so much for drawing them I CANT STOP STARING AT THIS ...... ZIP AND ZORRAN MY BELOVEDS......

#asks #firecooking #for me #this is tugs #tugs zorran #tugs zip #fortezza bigg city #this is such a PLEASANT SURPRISE TO WAKE UP TO!!!!!!! :DDDDD THANK YOU SO MUCH #''I am cheating on atf8'' dfnbfhryeiyr3;'.078 #also thanks for noticing the tie thingies!!!!#zorran is a professional at his work and has been around for a long time which evident by his tidy knot #while zip is a newbie that just joined a few months ago. his tying technique is so awkward and messy (shown in his initial art)#double windsor but a 5th grader made it #''ha ha... I'm in danger'' zip you've got a big storm coming. or should I say BIGG #(a piano falls on me)#just got a huge boost of motivation to draw more z-stacks content because their version in fbc makes me horrendously ill

47 notes · View notes

carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year

Text

a little Welcome Home theory that's probably me looking entirely too much into a single line <3

so i was clicking through the site for the thousandth time and this line caught my eye. maybe its 4 am and i haven't slept, maybe i'm onto something. who knows!

but this little thing... "and lively sets unlike anything seen before!". yeah, it could just be them propping up the show. OR maybe the puppets have been alive the whole time, fully autonomous but entirely unaware that they are puppets on a show. maybe to them, the neighborhood is real, and they simply cannot comprehend the presence of humans so their puppet minds don't register them. this could make for a "cosmic horror but for puppets" spin, which would be sick as fuck

their daytime is when the studio lights are on and people are around. idk how the people would teach them the scripts - maybe they did it at "night"? or maybe there was no script, and the puppets would automatically come up with their own shenanigans, dialogue, and segments that aligned with the show, bc that's what they were made for.

bc its not like the whrp team have physical puppets, or much other than art & reports, right? any information on the puppets - like Howdy being rotated between live-hand and walk-around - could've easily been a lie by the creators of the Welcome Home show. i mean, i don't think it would've gone down well if they came out and said "yeah the puppets are alive"

and now that i'm wondering how they could have living puppets, weren't the 60s/70s chock full of cults? could the WH creators have dipped into the occult to create living puppets for a ground breaking, popular, lucrative show, using minimal effort because "the show writes itself"? all they have to do is film and maybe change the puppets' costumes. if that - they could have set up hidden cameras or something.

and this is gonna sound even more far-fetched, but what if creating the puppets required human souls to power them? im not suggesting that the puppets have locked away memories from a "human life", bc that would be uh... a lot. but it's enough that given time and the right prompts, they could gain awareness, and maybe the soul does influence them in minor ways - in likes and dislikes etc.

and Wally being aware means that he fully saw the humans running the show. and maybe the occult thing is what's under Home - the source of black magic that brought the puppets to life seeping out. and he's aware because he looked into that source and it flipped a switch in his lil cotton brain

maybex2 this is what caused the show to not only shut down, but be wiped from existence. the magic seeped into Home, maybe killing someone in the process, and Wally was revealed as aware. maybe on live television. so the creators panicked and shut it all down, tried to destroy everything and gaslight the country into forgetting it ever existed. maybe in the hopes that once no one remembers the puppets, the magic will leech out of them and leave them lifeless

and that loops back into Wally being the only one referred to in present tense in the neighborhood bios. he's still aware, maybe trapped in the studio, alone. i mean, i sure hope he's not alone - i hope he has his friends with him. unless they're all decommissioned (dead)... maybe Wally is trying to bring them all back or "fix" them?

but then there's the case of all of this currently going down online. have the puppets' consciousness somehow been transferred to the internet? or has Wally gotten his little felt mittens on a computer? something else? and then there's the whrp team... could they be fake, and its really just Wally trying to cobble together the remains of his life/friends? i mean, the Question-Answerer sounds like a title a kid or naive puppet would come up with. people would've called them the Curator or somethin?

i have too many thoughts

#cuz like. AH no i should shut up i need to shut up.#no actually i dont and i wont. listen-#im just trying to piece together what clown has alluded to & what we know with the website #bc clearly the website is a Canon Thing. its part of all of this.#so how does it tie into everything #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #AAAAAA I JUST!!!! I CANT WAIT FOR THIS SHINDIG TO KICK OFF #its gonna be a while obs which just means more time to be excited #and also come up with outlandish theories that are waaayyyyy off the mark #I HAVENT THOUGHT THIS MUCH ABOUT A THING IN AGES #like i love theorizing!!! and Thinking!!! this is the ultimate enrichment for my enclosure!!!#i am a tiger digging into a meat pumpkin!!!#this is why welcome home is a threat to all of my other interests #none of them make me think this much #analyzing characters & relationships and established storylines can only go so far #i need to PREDICT i need to IMAGINE i need to WAIT WAIT WAIT #i love the waiting. i also hate it. but i love it <3 #im very used to waiting. i have waited years for little things and i can wait as long as possible to watch this unravel #i have so. so. So many thoughts #about Wally and the Secrets and literally Everything #i am having fun.#it is consuming my brain and i can barely think about anything else and its FUN AS FUCK #*all of this said while guiltily side-eyeing my dc blog*

100 notes · View notes