Curate, connect, and discover
I Want That - Blog Posts
Head over heels lovesick puppy Wally is my fave oh my gosh 🤭🤭
Wally with a crush is the most adorable he can get. all goofy and giddy and totally, completely, utterly involved.
he can't think about anything else, obsessive with it, and does everything in his power to make the object of his affection feel special. like, he plans things and always shows up and is an absolute Acts of Service puppy who will offer to do anything and everything under the sun if you ask him to.
he gets all silly and cuddly and his eyes go all soft when he looks at you and it's precious, especially because he can't. hide. it. no matter how much he tries when he catches himself (which isn't often, because the boy is oblivious to anything that's not you-shaped when you're around).
and he takes all the teasing from his friends in stride, wears his love like a badge of honor, but is deeply mortified if you find out he has a crush on you before he musters the nerve to tell you himself... that's when he stammers excuses until you kiss him stupid 😭
after that...well...👀
Wally Clark Headcanons 3
To be ordered around in Spanish 🥵🥵
imagine getting dommed in a language you don’t know, and actually getting trained commands and given orders in a blank slate. being rewarded for understanding commands and punished for slipping up.
you’re welcome for this new kink i know you now have
What does your favourite sexy underwear look like?
A pink thong with sparkly things on it
“Your love, your love, your love, I want that.”
sapphic media: *exists* networks:
Do you sometimes think how Wille ADORES waking up and having Simon by his side? Cause I do
Concept
A small, wooden house. Surrounded by what traditionally would be called an unkept garden. Weeds treated like flowers, grass ankle high and pretty stone circles with even more 'weeds'. A veranda stuffed with herbs in flower pots and a single chair leads to a door, painted cobalt. Inside more flowerpots on every windowsill, hanging from the ceiling and standing in corners. It smells of wet soil and spices and warmth. Furniture is old and made of dark wood, delicate carvings caching the eye. Proofs of witchcraft are everywhere. Spell jars between the flowers on the windowsill, salt lining the entrance, crystals and gems lying around.
Tea water is about to boil, a pretty mug and a nice tea blend ready. Freshly baked cookies are sitting on the table, a book not far away. The cover is really pretty and the writing so relatable it's almost suffocating. But it's calming to know not to be the only one with these problems. There's a small spider in the far away corner that hasn't moved since it had gotten there and probably never will. The sleek form of a cat sneaks around the corner, waiting for her friend to sit down so she could jump on her lap.
It's evening and the frogs are preparing their nightly concert. Crickets are chirping and the chickens returned from their journey through the garden. They are well fed, happy and tired. They know they have nothing to fear. The fox that used to frighten them has found it easier to take the dog food in front of the hole in the fence he snug through. He is never too far away from the cottage. The chickens don't know death by hands, only the long slumber when they are old enough to rest.
The cat has followed her human to the chair on the veranda, purring in their lap. The sun is about to set but it's last light will be enough to read a little longer.
