#I’m scared for Sally now- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pukefactory · 10 days ago

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After the latest Welcome Home update and the character development we received for Julie, I’ve felt a strong urge to write something about her—and this is the result of some frantic typing, haha! I really enjoyed working on this and have an idea to possibly turn it into a multi-chapter x-reader fanfiction, but I’ll only move forward with that if there’s enough interest. Feel free to let me know if you’d be interested. In the meantime, enjoy this little piece featuring our favorite monster.

-COMET

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱ BABY, WHY DO YOU LOOK SO SCARED? ⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

❀ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Julie Joyful Who Slowly Becomes Obsessed With The Reader

❀ Character(s): Julie Joyful (Welcome Home)

❀ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

❀ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

❀ Image Credits: @Partycoffin

✿ At first, it’s cute. She’s bouncing up to your doorstep every morning with a bright grin and a new game idea. “Wake up, Silly! The flowers said your face needs fresh air! I brought dice and lemon tarts and a spoon! Now we just need a blindfold!” You play along—how could you not? But over time, her visits start earlier. Then earlier. One day, you find her waiting outside your window before the sky has turned blue, waving and tapping her paw against the glass like a metronome. “Couldn’t sleep! I thought of a game! I call it Twilight Breakfast Tag!” She doesn’t blink.

✿ She gives you gifts. Lots of them. Handmade, glitter-caked, often vaguely resembling you. A sock puppet named after you. A spaghetti drawing of your house. A flower crown woven from plants you never planted. “The garden told me your dreams last night were blue. So I made you this! It’s a BLUE-DREAM BONNET!” You smile, say thank you. But later, you notice some petals in the crown are from Frank’s private garden—and he never lets anyone pick from there. “Don’t worry,” she says, when you ask. “Frank doesn’t mind! He just doesn’t know yet!”

✿ Julie always loved making up new games. But lately, the rules have been getting strange. You’re “It” now. Forever. No one else can be “It.” Even when you stop playing. Even when you’re tired. Even when you’re crying. “Oopsie daisy! You can’t quit! You’re the STAR of the show! If you don’t play, the Neighborhood goes dark!” Her smile twitches at the corners. She’s still cheerful. Too cheerful. But her eyes don’t sparkle the same way anymore.

✿ You used to hang out with Frank. With Eddie. With Wally. Now? Every time you try, Julie just… appears. She plops between you and Frank with an exaggerated huff. “Awwwwww, Frankie! You’re not keeping my favorite neighbor to yourself, are you?” Then she throws her arms around you and laughs so loud it drowns out anything Frank tries to say. “I’m just sooooooo jealous! We never play anymore! Let’s fix that! RIGHT NOW!” Her grip doesn’t loosen, even when you pull away.

✿ You tell her you’re busy one day. That you need time alone. Julie goes quiet for the first time. Her head tilts just a bit too far. “…Alone? Without me?” A beat. Then she smiles. “Well, that’s just silly! You can’t spell ‘JULIE’ without ‘U’!” That night, when you get home, your bed’s been made. Your fridge is full of peanut butter and honey sandwiches. There’s a flower tucked in your pillowcase. You never gave her a key.

✿ The neighbors whisper now. You hear Sally mutter something about “Julie being Julie again.” Frank’s been quieter, distracted. He asks if everything’s alright. You lie. But Julie’s not blind. The next time you try to talk to someone alone, she drags you off mid-conversation. “This is OUR Special Time! We can’t let the others get in the way of our bond!” Then she smiles so wide you swear her cheeks might split. “They’re just jealous! They don’t understand the RULES of this game!”

✿ Julie starts wearing pieces of your clothing. “You left this at my house!” she says, even when you know you never visited. “Smells like YOU! So warm and comfy and YOU!” She twirls around in your shirt, giggling like it’s the punchline of the world’s best joke. Later, you notice a cup missing. Then another shirt. Then your spare toothbrush. Julie’s room starts looking eerily familiar. You ask about it, and she says, “Well of COURSE I’m building a YOU corner! Every queen needs her co-star!”

✿ One day you find your name scribbled on the pavement outside your house. Over and over. Hearts around it. Smileys. “Julie + You = Forever!” in bold sidewalk chalk looping endlessly around your front steps. It wraps around the base of your home. Up the mailbox. Even over the windows. “It’s a Surprise Sidewalk Spectacle!” Julie sings, arms flung wide. “I wanted to see your smile first thing in the morning!” But her eyes don’t match her voice. They’re desperate.

✿ She starts talking to your reflection. You catch her giggling into the mirror in your hallway. “Oh! You’re such a card! We’re so perfect together! Aren’t we? Aren’t we?” She’s holding one of your shirts, petting it like it’s alive. You freeze. Julie sees you, but doesn’t flinch. “Shhh. Don’t interrupt! You were telling me all your secret secrets!” Her expression turns serious and her tone flattens. “And you said you’d never leave me.”

✿ The last straw is when you try to go. She catches you at the edge of the Neighborhood. Breathless. Still smiling. “You can’t leave yet! The game’s not over! Don’t you remember? You’re It!” You run. You don’t get far. The trees around the place are strange. Too twisty. Too bright. The sky doesn’t move right. Julie’s voice echoes everywhere. “Come back, come back, come back! I’m sorry, just—!” Then silence. When you open your door the next morning, she’s sitting on your porch. Covered in glitter and dirt. Cradling a piece of your torn clothing, whispering to herself “I’ll give them everything they want. I don’t understand why they keep running. Am I not enough?...” You had never heard her voice drop so low. Now you know that all her blunder, all her cheer, it’s just a facade and the Julie Joyful who was sitting in front of your house, back turned, was the real deal.

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robo-milky · 7 months ago

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Lolol so… how low do you think he’d have to sink to reach Cloche and Grim? I’d imagine he’d be on his damn knees-

[Notes]

- So I’m thinking… Cloche probably found Skully cute UNTIL after finding out he’s 16- Now he’s cringe (if him talking down on his schoolmates wasn’t enough)

- A bit more far fetched but I think it’d be interesting if they both grew to dislike/feel iffy with each other over time?? No idea if Skully was ever bullied or not (only mentioned to be alone), but he sure as hell reminded Cloche of an old classmate/childhood friend she indirectly bullied- With him seeming to lack social awareness, Cloche almost wants to say it was his fault and he deserved it if somehow he’s outcasted by everyone in his school- 💀 (I don’t endorse this, it’s Cloche’ character flaw)

- At the same time, it’s also funny if Skully mistakes Cloche’ curse of calling everyone Master/sama as her having admiration for Jack and Sally 😭

- Maybe Skully can be the agent to bring Cloche and Epel closer- Cloche using Epel as a human shield to avoid all contact with Skully

- Skully is super duper uber cute but I like him the same way I like Epel/Rollo- I just think it’d be entertaining to see if he’d snap and push him to his limits of misery- Maybe he’ll keep on being the whimsical cinnamon roll we’re seeing so far, maybe he can give us a good scare like Jack did with the trick or treaters-

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hockeybabe · 1 year ago

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Shoot Your Shot | M. Knies

Not my gif

Pairings: Matthew Knies x f!reader

Summary: Matthew has had a crush on you and just can’t refuse you.

Warnings: slight smut, Matthew can’t resist his crush, fingering, swearing, dirty talk, praising, finger sucking?

Word count: 1.5k

Note: ngl after I saw this gif, I knew I had to write smth for it. Also I went to a leaf game!!!! I GOT TO SEE CAPTAIN QUINN!

“Just come to the game.” You heard for the third time this day. You worked at a local coffee shop that wasn’t far from Scotiabank Arena, where the Leafs played. Your most regular customer, Matthew Knies, was always asking you to come to his game. You were a hockey fan but never went to games, thanks to your boss.

“That’s really nice, Matt, but I’m working.” You said, cupping the lid of a drink. Matthew groaned, leaning his arms against the counter, and walked away to find a booth. You called the name on the receipt, handing the person their drink. “Sally, I’m on break.” You told your co-worker as you put your apron up on the hook.

“You can’t be mad at me.” You said, walking up to the booth and taking a seat right across from him, folding your hands over the other. “I’m not.” He grumbled, not looking at you. You rolled your eyes. “Look at me.” You ordered him, and he did so reluctantly. “I’ll be watching from there.” You pointed at the TV that was displayed in the corner of the shop.

“It’s not the same, Y/N. I’ve wanted you to go forever. Just ask your boss.” He begs. You knew Matthew’s name had popularity, and your boss would never believe you if he weren’t there in person. "Look, I try all the time. It’s not worth it.” You said getting frustrated and walked away to start your shift again.

Matthew always had a soft spot for you and couldn’t stand to see you upset, especially at him. What he didn’t tell you was that he already talked to your boss and got you a ticket to the game right at the glass. But now he was scared you wouldn’t show when he went for pre-skate, and it would crush him.

Matthew looked down at the watch on his wrist, noticing he had to make his way to the rink. “I’ll see you y/n.” He said leaving money along with the ticket to the game. You watched him leave as a soft sigh left your lips. Liking Matthew wasn’t something you wanted, but you couldn’t help it. You knew he liked you, but being with a hockey player isn’t the easiest thing to do.

You had seen some hockey players girlfriends get attacked on Instagram for being in love, but you couldn’t deny the honest attraction you had for Matthew. He was everything you ever wanted in a guy. You walked over to the booth he was at and picked up his cup, noticing the money along with a strip of paper with the leafs logo on it.

You put the cash and paper in your apron pocket before putting the mug in the dish area. You walked over to Sally and leaned against the counter, noticing Matthew had left you a ticket to tonight’s game against Vancouver. “What’s that, y/n/n?” Sally asked. You lifted the ticket up and showed her. “Someone’s got a crush.” You heard it from behind.

You turned around and saw your boss with her arms crossed. You sucked in a breath and said, "It doesn’t matter. I’ve got work.” You said it in a low voice, not wanting to piss your boss off. “Y/n, go to the game. I already talked to the boy and the rest of his team. I’ll tell you they’re persistent.” Your mouth fell slightly at her words. “They were here?” You asked. “Oh yeah, all of them. All because that one rookie likes you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You are going, right?” Your boss asked, walking closer. “I’m mean, yeah, but who’s going to run-" “It’ll be closed for the night.” Your boss cut you off. Another thing your boss shocked you with was that she never closed the cafe unless something was wrong in her life. Whatever the team said to her, it must’ve changed her.

“Well, um, I got to go then.” You said untying your apron and grabbing your personal belongings. “Oh, you almost forgot this.” Your boss said handing you a jersey with the name Knies stitched on the back along with his number. “Now go.” Sally said pushing you to the door. You laughed at them, quickly placed the jersey over your clothes, and headed to the rink.

“Miss y/l/n?” Someone said to you. “Yeah,” you answered. “Please come with me. Mr. Knies asked for me to take you to your spot.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as you followed him. You were walked all the way to a room with a TV with the game on, a bar, couches, and women.

“Y/n, right?” You were greeted by a blonde. You nodded slowly. “Steph, Mitch’s wife.” Your eyes widened in realization. You were in a room with the players girlfriends and wives. “It’s nice to meet you.” You shook her hand as she led you to the balcony to watch the game.

The game was already in motion, and Vancouver had a good offensive game. The Leafs were in the Vancouver zone, and there it was. A Knies goal, you couldn’t help but smile as Matthew pointed up to where you were. “He’s gotta good eye.” Steph says as the others cheer. "Yeah, he does.” Another says. “Aryne.” The woman says. “Matthew lives with me and John.” She says.

You smiled at the woman and continued to watch the game and talk to the other girls. The Leafs ended up winning 5-2. “You’re coming.” Steph said, licking her arm through yours as you made your way to the den and waited for the players.

You felt slightly overwhelmed by the number of people who knew who you were and even by the players coming out and introducing themselves. After John, you watched Matthew stroll out. You felt yourself smiling as your arms crossed over your chest. “Player of the game?” You cocked a brow at his Leafs belt. “Gotta keep it up.” He responded pulling you into a hug.

“We’ll talk about this.” You said this as he pulled you to the parking garage, where his car was. You sat in the passenger seat watching Matthew drive to your apartment, and it was something. You knew he was sneaking glances at you with the number of times he clenched his hands on the wheel, turning his knuckles white as you clenched your thighs together.

You get to your apartment, and you watch Matthew contain himself, shuffling his hands in his pockets and letting out deep sighs. Opening the door, you pull Matthew’s arm toward your bedroom. At the edge of the bed, Matthew turned you around and crashed his lips against yours. Matthew pushed you onto the bed, looming over you.

“Hi beautiful.” He said trailing his finger along your collarbone. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks. “I like your jersey.” He said it with a casual smirk. “I think I like it too.” You responded biting your lip slightly. The tension floated around you two for a while before you grabbed the collar of his shirt and teased him, thinking you would kiss him, but instead you kissed the corner of his mouth.

Matthew bunched up your jersey before kissing you. His hands trailed to your tits as he pinched your nipples and massaged your boobs. You moaned into his mouth, giving his tongue access. You both fought for dominance, with him eventually winning. Matthew trailed kisses to your neck, finding the sweet spot, while he slowly peeled your top layers off and unclasped your bra.

Feeling antsy, you moved your hands down Matthew’s body, putting your semi-cold hands under his shirt and feeling his body. “Fuck.” He hissed into your ear, feeling the coolness of your hands. You whimpered as Matthew grinded into your core. “Off.” You moaned as he kissed down the valley of your breasts to your pant line.

Matthew sat up on his knees, peeling off his shirt, while you admired from below, biting your lip. You started to peel off the rest of your clothes with the help of Matthew until you were both completely bare. Matthew trailed kisses along your things as his finger traced your folds. Your back arched at his touch, and he used his other hand to force your hips down.

“Such a pretty girl.” He mumbled, thrusting one finger in as you moaned. Matthew continued to thrust his finger while using his thumb to play with your clit. “More.” You begged in a muffled voice. Matthew instantly responded, adding a second finger and increasing his pace. You thrashed in your position, using your hands to grip the sheets. “That’s it princess. Let go. Come for me.” You let out a whimper as you fell apart on his fingers.

Matthew trailed his fingers up your body to your lips as you sucked the juices off his fingers. “Jesus baby. You’re so hot.” He smiled while lifting you up, allowing you to straddle him. “You’re hotter.” You said smiling back before kissing him.

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harrywavycurly · 1 month ago

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I still think about how soft Harry turned for his sunshine girl and I imagine all the random voice notes he’d send her during the day when he can’t call her or maybe the voicemails he’d leave and how sweet his little rants would be😩🥹

Hiii babes!! I miss my little lovey dovey HWC Harry so I’m gonna give you some examples of his rant-ish voicemails and voice notes to his sunshine girl! I hope you enjoy!!💖

Find all things Handle With Care here✨

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @namoreno @coralferrio1 @stylesftcher @mema10 @cherryloveshs @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @triski73

Summary: These are some voice notes and voicemails your lovely ex frat daddy boyfriend Harry sends you during the week✨

Monday’s Voice Note: “Good morning sunshine it’s…uhh shit…oh sorry don’t be mad…ah okay it’s seven fifteen in the morning and I’m about to go for a run and then come see you before you go to work. I hope you slept good? How did that weird sleepy tea taste? Did it work?…m’not totally sure all those things are actually good for you but if they help then I’m all for it because my sunshine girl needs her full eight hours or she’s a bit prickly…but I don’t mind when you’re a little grumpy..makes you more cuddly and we both know how I feel about cuddling so-oh bloody hell why is all my coffee gone? m’gonna kill that Irish fuck-I mean I love you baby I’ll see you in a bit…I wonder if you’re dreaming about me right now? Hmmm…you’ll have to tell me what you dreamt about when I see you. Love you!”

Tuesday’s voicemail: “Hey baby I’m just seeing if you’re free for dinner tonight? I forgot you had a meeting during lunch today so just call me back whenever you can…I miss you…oh and I love you…yeah okay that’s it. Love you…I already said that didn’t I? Oh well you can hear it again…I love you…bye sunshine.”

Wednesday’s voicemail: “I am so sorry I couldn’t walk you to work this morning I forgot to set an alarm and when I woke up I saw all your missed calls and…god I’m-shit I’m so late…I’m sorry sweetheart but I hope you have a good day and I’m going to come see you for lunch! I’ll bring your favorite…I love you! I’ll see you soon! Make sure to save a few smiles for me okay? Don’t give them all away…love you.”

Thursday’s Voice Note: “Goodnight my sunshine girl…thank you for letting me pick the movie tonight even though it’s technically your night…I love you and I can’t wait until you finally stop telling me no when I ask you to move in because we both know you want to live with me…or maybe it’s that we both know I really really hate not being able to wake up next to you everyday..two floors of separation is killing me baby and I know one day soon…you’ll just stop fighting it and just accept the fact we are going to be together forever so might as well start forever as soon as we can…and before you say anything yes I stole parts of that from when Harry met Sally but it’s the truth…remember when you said you’d be okay with the wife thing after our first kiss? Well that was almost a year ago…but anyway…I love you…a lot…actually it’s more than just a lot but there’s not a word to describe the amount so…a lot will just have to do for now…I know you’re just now getting out of your bath and putting on all your lotions and potions that make you all soft and uhg…I miss you…fuck this…ohh sorry baby…let me just grab my sweatshirt and—where are my socks? Oh okay here they are…I’ll be there in three minutes and forty five seconds…prepare for a sleepover because I miss you too much. I love you! Don’t fall asleep before I get there!”

Friday’s Voice Note: “Hey sweetheart did you know Niall has a key to your apartment? I didn’t until he walked in while I was in the living room and he scared the shi-crap out of me…when did he get a key? Did he steal it from you?…oh and I’m making pizza for dinner does that sound good? I hope you’re having a good day at work…Miss you and love you like crazy.”

Saturday’s Voicemail: “Hey baby…m’a little drunk but s’all Niall’s fault and god I love you. I’m gonna marry you when you finally let me. But you know that yeah? Yeah…yeah you know that…god hallways are so long and…and ugly? Why are the hallways so hideous? M’gonna come cuddle you is that okay? If it’s not just…kick me off the bed okay? Yeah..yeah I’ll see you soon sunshine…my sunshine..you smell like flowers and sunshine because you’re my sunshine girl…that I love so…so much a lot…m’gonna go now okay? M’at the door! Love you!”

Sunday’s Voice Note: “Baby where are you? You just left me in bed with a bottle of water and some aspirin with a note on my forehead saying…br…feast? That’s…that’s not a real word?…wait oh it says…breakfast…did you go get breakfast? God I’m so lucky that you’re my…my everything…you’re too good to me. I’m gonna go shower because I smell like the floor of a shitty bar…but I love you and miss your cute face so hurry back? Please?”

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rebelcracker-s · 6 months ago

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yapping about the welcome home 10/18 update because i am so incredibly normal

Hello neighbors! Not exactly my usual content, but since when was I consistent :P I have a lot of thoughts about the new Welcome Home update, so I thought I’d make a post discussing my thoughts n findings, and try to analyze them to make sense of Welcome Home.

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

First of all, right off the bat, on the first page of the storybook, you can see this:

All of these dots in white diamonds are meant to represent eyes, like the Looky-Loo branding alludes to. While they’re all mostly looking in different directions, we have these two who are looking right at the reader. I think these are meant to represent Wally’s eyes. Since we know from the hidden audios from the June ‘23 update that Wally can see through every drawing of his eyes, it looks like Wally is watching us or at least W through the storybook. It’s a tiny detail but so creepy nonetheless!

I want to focus on the end of W’s version of the storybook rather than the contents of the storybook, but I loved seeing a story centered around Sally and some depictions of Sally & Poppy’s dynamic! (Also Eddie calling Sally rude—THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING. Based eddie tho LOL) I also loved seeing the neighbors all being so eager to help Poppy, but oh my goodness, the way that they did it… YIKES. Poor Poppy…

It’s so interesting that we’re seeing the characters one by one realize that something is wrong with their neighborhood—first Sally in last year’s Halloween update, then Eddie in the Homewarming update, now Poppy.

It’s also interesting how Eddie and Poppy’s episodes(?) parallel each other. First of all, they very clearly focus on isolation from the rest of the neighborhood. Eddie loses all perception of the other neighbors, and the “single pea on a plate” represents his isolation from everyone else. Poppy is literally bricked off from the other neighbors, and she can’t hear them and vice versa until she screams and the door is opened.

The second interesting thing is that both of these episodes have Home involved. Eddie gets uncomfortable and immediately finds himself staring down Home even though he’s inside them. Poppy hears knocks, doors opening, and doorknobs turning—all of which are methods Home uses to communicate. I don’t know if Home is meant to be a metaphor for isolation or a genuine antagonistic force trying to corner the characters when they’re alone and at their weakest. Maybe both?

Still, I was considering that the character who scares Poppy at the end of the storybook audio could also be one and the same with the “monster” (in quotations because it’s unclear whether this is an actual monster) Sally talked about in last year’s Halloween update. That would create a common thread between the two Halloween updates. Still, I’m not sure what that monster is meant to represent and if it is supposed to mean Home or something related to them, like the weird portal underneath it…

Third, it’s very interesting how the two episodes end. Both Eddie and Poppy are brought out of the episodes by the intervention of the other neighbors. But it’s not just any neighbors—both times, it’s Sally and Frank. Sally is the neighbor who notices something is up with Eddie first; she brings him to the Homewarming party, then pulls Frank over to Eddie at the end of Eddie’s episode. When Poppy’s episode ends, we hear two neighbors asking about her. It’s not explicitly stated whose voices they are in the transcript, but it’s clearly Sally and Frank.

Sally and Frank are a really interesting pair; their canon interactions include them getting into a physical fight over song lyrics. But somehow, we’ve seen them twice breaking up these episodes. They don’t appear to be as close as Frank is with Eddie or as Sally is with Poppy, but it would be a very weird coincidence if this was an accident both times.

I strongly believe that Sally and Frank are both aware of what’s happening and trying to work together to either gain a bigger understanding of it, protect the other neighbors, etc. (I also have a theory that Howdy is in on it too, but I won’t focus on that right now.) This is why we see them coming to both Eddie and Poppy’s aid after their episodes.

Another thing!! Connections to other literature seem to be really important in the lore of Welcome Home, so it’s not a throwaway that the play Sally puts on is Tell-Tale Heart. I don’t know a lot about Tell-Tale Heart, but it appears to be about a character who kills a man and buries his still-beating heart under the floorboards, only to be driven mad by the sound. I’m pretty sure we’ve heard Home’s heartbeat before, so I wonder if Tell-Tale Heart is supposed to connect to them… I’ve seen people connect it to Cask of Amontillado, but I’ve never even heard of that so I’ll let other theorists tackle that for now.

On a final note, Wally saying that “everything is as it should be” as the last line of the storybook…completely creeps me out!!!

That’s all for now. I should probably update my other theory soon lol

#welcome home #welcome home theory #welcome home arg #welcome home speculation #wh speculation #wh theory #welcome home spoilers #wally darling #frank frankly #sally starlet #howdy pillar #julie joyful #barnaby b beagle #eddie dear #poppy partridge

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 year ago

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hello seth! i don’t think my tumblr works with anon so i’ll just send it like this! i’m a huge fan of your writing and i absolutely adore it. whenever i am in the need for a good story and writing inspiration i go to your blog. so i was hoping if you could write a sally face fic! i haven’t seen too many on here and willing to write for m reader or ftm.

i like the thought of being with sally and just having time with him, soft domestic type stuff. then he starts asking you how you really feel about his face and you smile and take off his mask with permission and kiss him saying he’s beautiful and to not worry. you kiss him and hold him. he then sits up but keeps your lips locked and you begin to explore each other sexually but in a such intimate way you both are crying almost. if you want could be m reader but i would love a ftm reader! can we also have reader be bottom but still be guiding sally and affirming him. i know this is a big ask and you’re always working so hard so please take liberty with this ask! take what you want from it and remove what you don’t like. i just love you’re writing. take your time as well! writing can be draining sometimes and you really need to find that inspiration so i want to make sure you feel no pressure!

have a good day/night/evening!!<3

❝ I'll show you how we're supposed to feel (when we meet at Orion's belt) ❞

warnings: mentions of facial dysphoria, self-deprecating thoughts (Sal), unprotected sex, praise (a lot of it), minor hair pulling, creampies, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock, terms like cunt and boypussy are used)

masterlist ;

authors note: thank you so much for your kind words! hearing that you use my writing as writing inspiration made me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside oh lord 😭 you're too kind! This request was the softest one I've ever worked on, thank you so much for gracing me with the opportunity to write this~

*song on repeat: Orion's Belt by Sabrina Claudio / Baby Girl by SMNM

"Cold, cold, cold," Sal lifts his head from the couch. The sight of you rushing down the wooden stairs in nothing but a towel makes him lift himself to sit. "Fuck! Sal, you should put carpet in here!" Grinning, he leans forward and folds himself in half to stare at you furiously lifting the towel up to wrap around your shoulders instead.

"You hate carpet. B'sides, it'll get that weird moldy smell in here. I told you to get those fuzzy slippers," Gizmo meows in agreement from his corner of the couch. "Traitor!" you exclaim and he simply meows once again, lifting a leg to lick his stomach and Sal reaches over to give his head a good scratch.

"See? Even Gizmo agrees."

"Gizmo has in-built fuzzy socks. He has no say in this," your huffing and puffing simply makes Sal roll his eye, lifting Gizmo up to place the large cat right on his stomach while he props his head onto the armrest of the couch. Gizmo stretches out onto his torso, unbothered by the change in position while he presses his nose into Sal's chest and twists until he's nearly full on his back; the action makes Sal secure the old cat on him. His olive-toned arm loosely wrapped across Gizmo's purring body.

You're still rambling but it's all background noise to Sal. The sight of your bare legs and backside calls for his attention and despite how guilty he feels, he can't help but drag his sight all the way up to your — now — bare shoulders. The towel is now limply draped over the towel rack, and your muscles and bones are moving seamlessly underneath the fabric of your skin.

Everything about you can make him feel like he's going to explode. In a good way, if you can believe it. He sure as hell didn't. Sal remembers the first time he saw you, thinking you looked cool and that it was nice your interests lined with his. Somehow you managed to become more than that.

More always scared Sal. It was greedy and selfish. He wasn't religious but there was a sense of anxiety that came from wanting and needing more than you were given. Some sort of divine guilt was planted within him through passing by churches and reading the signs of worship plastered on billboards. Needing more is frightening, especially from other people.

More time spent with you two. More hours of listening to you speaking. More days spent with you in his home, bare skin and bare soul all for him and only him.

It frightened him!

Because, as self-centered as it sounds, he'd have to give you more. Don't take this the wrong way, he wants to — God, he wants to — but...but...

What if you don't like all that he has?

The fabric of his skin is spoiled. Marred. One of his eyes is artificial, his jaw asymmetrical, bone blown to bits, nose cut off and skin grafts stitched together and spliced.

His heart hammers in his chest, and his breathing is shaky as he squeezes Gizmo. The patch-furred critter mews, twisting once again and crawling up. His weight on Sal's chest is comforting. The pressure across it squeezed down on him, reminding his body that it was real and he was safe.

"In conclusion, I propose we buy a heater! That way we can — "

You're dressed in Sal's pajama pants, hands in the middle of pulling down the oversized band shirt when you notice Sal squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sal? Baby? What's wrong?" You sit by his legs, placing a hand on his knee and pressing your hands on it to ease him back down. "You're okay, baby. You're okay." It's not often Sal gets like this. You've known him ever since he came to Nockfell County; you know he's the type of person to withdraw within himself when his anxieties get the best of him. He's certainly gotten better with time and as your friendship — and eventual relationship — got stronger, the both of you worked on ways to lean on each other when things get tough.

Sal inhales deeply, Gizmo raising with the motion, and exhales. You don't pry more, giving him room to find the words and tether back to you. Gizmo's purrs muffle the silence.

"Sorry, just, the sight of your ass gave me a heart attack, Jesus," the joke is met with a loose grin but Sal knows you better than that. Still. He's grateful you snort at his jesting. Gizmo stands — Sal grimaces as he puts all his weight on his sternum — then walks over to your lap instead. The sight makes him calm down.

The faded grey of the once-black band shirt and his pajama pants do too. It's silly but the sight of you in everything that's his comforts a part of him. You're here. You're in love with him. Your gaze holds nothing but patience and adoration and a tinge of worry.

But you're here, in his clothes, in his room, his cat in your lap, and your hands on his body.

"You feeling better, Sal?" He nods, pushing to sit. "Do you wanna talk about it, baby?" Gizmo gives your chin one more bump before he jumps on the floor and meanders his way to his food bowl. Taking the chance, you inch closer to Sal and he's grateful for it.

You're not scared of the cold prosthetic on his face. The iron bolts that secure the straps to his face and head, the glass eye that shines humourlessly in any situation.

"Do you ever want...more from this? From me?" That line of questioning made your brows furrow and mouth frown. "What do you mean?" You reach for him and Sal reciprocates by holding your hand in his lap.

"I was joking about seducing Mr Smith from the electronics store for a heater," he scoffs at your lame joke but continues. "I don't mean that, I'll get us a heater. Just..."

"You've never seen...all of me." His grip loosens but you don't let it. "So?" he looks at you, his face angled low and the shape of his prosthesis mimics his brow bone. Sal is pinching his face, confused at your indignant tone.

"So?" He whispers. You lift his hand up, inching in closer and placing his knuckles over your clavicle.

"So?"

"Doesn't it freak you out? We've been together for so long and you've never seen my face," he murmurs. Since you're so close, speaking above a whisper would ruin this moment. Sal's heart is racing again though this time the anxiety is laced with his love for yours. It's a confusing emotion but he relishes the way you press your forehead to his, nose bumping with the bump on his prosthesis.

"Do you want me to see your face?" He inhales sharply, glancing away.

"...I do. But..."

"Mm?" you spread his fingers out, guiding them to your neck and the calloused pads of Sal's fingers make gooseflesh spread. The hairs on the back of your neck standing in applause; because that's what he does to you.

He makes your pupils expand, makes your heart race, makes your brain produce dopamine; your body lights up like a goddamn firework when he so much as looks your way. You can be yourself with him without fear because you know you do the same to him.

"...I've only ever let you kiss me when it's dark. The first time we had sex, I couldn't even take off the mask...I just...I'm..."

Your frown deepens when Sal sighs, his shoulders dropping.

"Be honest. Does it bother you?"

He's glad you don't reply immediately. A part of him always worries your love for him overtakes everything else. That, if something ever happens between the two of you and it tears you apart, you'll feel regret once the love is gone. You brush his hair behind his ear, cupping his jaw as you shake your head.

"No. It doesn't. Because it's you, Sal. I love you. Even the parts you aren't ready for me to see." He exhales and his breath escapes through the slits of his mouth. You feel it on your thumb and it makes you grin.

There's a twitch in his eye and your grin falters for a moment before it reappears when he locks eyes with you.

"...Do you want me to see your face, baby?"

His jaw is set. His tongue is made of lead. So Sal simply closes his eyes and gives you a minuscule nod. If it weren't for your hand on his jaw, you probably would've mistaken it for a twitch.

"Can I take off your prosthetic?"

Another nod.

"Are you sure, baby? I won't do it if you're not — "

"I'm sure." He says in one breath. "I'm sure."

A moment of silence was shared and you leaned forward to press your lips in the molding of his. The cool material does not pulse or pump with life but it's your Sal's and you cherish it deeply; he exhales shakily and you grin as your fingers dance through the locks of blue to find the straps that hold the prosthetic in place.

It's secure, it's meant to be, and you can feel the wear and tear of the years in the material. The scratches and indents weaved into every fiber. You unbuckle the lower end first and Sal tightens his hold on you, so you pause and press another kiss to his porcelain cheek.

When he nods, you continue, cupping the mask in one hand to steady it while you undo the upper buckle.

Sal would be statue-like if it weren't for the nervous tremors in his fingers. The mask loosens and its weight drops into your hand. His breath does not come through the slits anymore and you can feel it breeze through the fine hairs on your fingers.

He says nothing and neither do you. Still, you place one more kiss on the forehead of his prosthetic and lower it from view.

Sal has his eyes cast away, but he faces you. There's a large scar across the right side of his mouth, splitting his lips and exposing his teeth. There's a dent on the right side of his lower jaw that leaves his bone structure slightly unbalanced, and the cartilage of his nose is completely missing. The skin has healed, stretching his eye and tugging on the rest. It's pinkish still, never quite settling into the rest of his olive-toned skin, and Sal understands why it's jarring.

It's like peeling back the layers of what makes humans...humans.

The skin. The sight of his face makes people unnerved. Teeth and gums and muscles and the lack of a nose. One side of his face was a plain canvas and the other was a goddamn Jackson Pollock painting of horror.

Your touch on his bare skin shocks him. The pads of your fingers drag across his cheekbones. "Does it hurt?" You ask with your eyes lidded.

"No, no, it...it doesn't." You smile and your thumb rests just under his eyes, sweeping fondly while your palm holds his face preciously within your hand. There's a flush to his skin — it's not unusual with how the prosthetic held over his face nearly 24/7.

There's a feeling of nakedness that comes without the even pressure across his visage but your hands are an amazing substitute.

"You don't have to be nice," he says. "It takes a lot to get used to — "

"I know I can't completely convince you to not think of yourself as 'something to get used to' but you're not. Not to me." Sal's eye water and he wills himself to finally look at you.

There's a pinch to your brows, it makes your eyebrows cast this shadow across your eyes and highlight the colours of your eyes. You're frowning at his self-deprecation, though beyond that he can see you mean well.

"I would gladly sit on your face, Sal."

He scoffs, groaning as he slips away from your hand to toss his head back and flop right onto the couch again. "You're fuckin' impossible, (Y/N)," he mumbled as his hands covered his face. You place the prosthetic down on the makeshift coffee table near the couch and chuckle as you swing one leg over his hips and rest your crotch over his.

"What? I'm being honest here!" Bracing your weight on your elbows, Sal finds the comfort of your body across his similar to Gizmo's. "You're fucking beautiful," he squirms at that and you huff, nuzzling your face into his neck while he peeks from over his fingers.

"You don't have to say that," you huff once again. "I'm not saying that because I have to, I'm saying it because I want to. You're fucking beautiful, me being your boyfriend is just a coincidence."

He feels you shifting and instinctively, his hands rest on your hips and there he is again. You know you shouldn't stare, so you don't, but the shy glances at his face are less than secretive. His eyes are blue, cobalt almost, and his eyebrows are a darker shade of his hair. The shape of his eyes is rounded, with a deep crease and heavy eyelids just like his father's. Lifting your head, you gaze down at him and your hands are once again gingerly ghosting on his skin. This time, they're tracing his collarbones, feeling up the protruding muscle of his neck and halting at his jaw.

"Can I kiss you, baby?" He has a quirk. A lip twitch that he does when he's excited; you've been dating him for years and you're still finding out new things about your boyfriend. It makes your heart race and it only triples in speed when he nods. Hovering, the peak of your lips ghost his. He had always envied how you kiss his prosthetic. It was an extension of himself but he hated how badly he wanted to feel you on him.

They press to his and Sal slips his eyes closed. It's nothing more than a peck. Innocent, chaste. But then he's tightening his grip and pulling you in; tilting his head like he's always seen other people do and you're grinning into it. He knows because he can feel it.

He can feel it.

How your lips spread, the hint of teeth that slide over his bottom ones, and the crinkling of your nose that's brushing over his cheek.

"You taste so good, pretty boy," your words make his ears red. "I'm sure anything is better than kissing porcelain," he replies with a breathless tone, leaning forward again as if unwilling to part from you even if just to talk.

"No, don't disrespect yourself like that. What did we say about making those jokes." "Hah, I'll stop when you do."

Giggling, you're leaning in again. Sal wonders if kissing you is the only reason he's not completely in tears. The first time he'd accidentally showed Larry his face, he'd cried because Larry didn't look away from him. You taste tears on your lips and Sal curses softly as he tucks himself under your jaw, groaning. You shush him comfortingly, threading your fingers through his hair as he takes a few deep inhales.

"I love you." Those words are followed by more tears and you squeeze him again. "I love you, Sal," he nods against your — his — shirt. He can feel the grin you have from the crown of his head.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

Because you did. Sal was the man you wanted to be with until the Earth decided to throw in the towel; it didn't matter how buried your love for each other would be, because when your bones are dug up, or his guitar, or the treasure trove of things you've called yours; in the future, when you whisper to those archeologists: "Do you know?" they'd nod and reply, "We know you loved him."

Sal has never felt love like this. One that felt overwhelming at first, the same way entering a body would be for the first time in your life, but once he embraced the feeling? It was so...fulfilling.

How lucky was he?

Sal pulls away to cup your face and he leans in. You meet him halfway.

The feeling of your breath, your heart thudding against his own chest, the pulse beating under his thumb as he holds your neck — Sal isn't sure if he'd ever get into heaven but he doubts it ever compares to you.

His jaw moves and your lips part as you press closer. Fuck, kissing him felt like drinking in sunlight. There's a freedom that follows it, leaves you floaty and blissful.

"I love you," he replies between the friction, teeth biting down on your lower lip if only to hear if you'd gasp. You do.

"I love you so fuckin' much, (Y/N)." There's a feverish desperation in his words. But it makes your heart swell. There's no doubt in his eye, nothing but the truth and the truth is he'd worship you.

You're kissing again. Eager to show him the explosions he sets off within you. Between desperate lip locking and messy tangles of tongues, his hands move down and up your — his —shirt.

Squeezing your sides as he drags his digits across your skin. It spreads fire across your planes, has your already uneven breath shuddering as he memorizes the shape of your body again.

There's a growing hardness between his legs. You can feel it — twitching below your crotch as he tilts his head and tastes the lust that perspires from your neck.

He's greedy with his mouth. How could he not be? Sal has been wanting to taste you the second he realised how badly he wished you were his.

"Fuck, Sal." You groan, chewing on your lower lip as he experiments with this unmarked territory. His tongue is warm, his teeth brushes over pumping arteries with an air of amusement; when he finds the sweet spot? The spot where your breath hitched as he kissed it?

Sal makes your blood vessels explode. It isn't enough that the hairs on your neck stand in attention because of him, or how your blood rushes to your head when he so much as looks your way. He's determined to show you he can worship you in more ways than one.

You're gripping onto his shirt and your hips grind down. The moan he lets out makes your cunt wetter than before.

"I need you," you tell him as he sinks his teeth in. Just to test it out, to see if you'd like it. You do. His back feels cold as you lift his shirt but he grips at your wrist, panting as he moves his head away so you can see him.

"Can I...Can I keep it on?" He already felt a touch too exposed. You nod, reassuring him with a chaste peck.

"I'm gonna take of my shirt. You've made me all warm," he smiles a bit too smugly. He's handsome that way. When he gets a bit cocky — it's a sure fire way to make your head dizzy with desire.

"My shirt," he mumbles.

But when your bare torso is revealed the sass is pushed away. Sal presses kisses on your chest, teasing your perk buds with his too-warm hands and relishing in the way you toss your head back when he takes one in his mouth.

"Sal, holy fuck." He kneads at your ass, making your hips move back and forth. Rocking your clothed cunt over his boner as he leaves hickeys and bitemarks.

Here is where I plant my love, he thinks as he feels your heart pound against your ribcage, here is proof that he's mine.

Your pants are pulled below your waist and Sal moves back, making you yelp at the loss of balance. One second you're over him and the next, you're both tumbling over the couch.

His hand cradles the back of your head, curling over you as much as he could when you crash. Thankfully, none of you knocked into the coffee table but the adrenaline of the short fall makes the both of you wide-eyed.

"Holy fuck!" You laugh breathlessly. He scans you for any injury but soon follows suit. "You okay?" His hair curtains your face from view as he descends to claim your lips again.

"I'm peachy, baby." Sal grunts as you tug at the waist band of his pants. "Don't stop..." and how could he say no to you when you look up at him like that?

Your hands invade underneath his shirt and Sal moans as you press your fingers lightly into his back, kneading at the tense muscles. "M'not gonna take it off. Just wanna feel you," you assure as you reach his shoulder blades. God, the feeling of your hands on his body made him feel so Holy.

Ironic in the grand scheme of things but it's not like Sal gave a damn.

It's your turn to mark him up. He often already is. But this time your lips latch onto the obvious places. Lifting yourself to sit, Sal is suddenly at your mercy as you lovingly bruise him up with your mouth.

Sal lifts himself off your crotch a bit, panting and moaning at your ministrations, and slips his hand down your pants. Your breath stutters as your boyfriend touches your core.

"Sal," you plead. "I know, baby. I know," Sal frowns when you whine. "What? What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"You're just..." You're breathing heavily as you stare up at him, nails lightly digging into his skin as your dick twitches against his palm.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Sal."

That catches him completely off-guard. He hates how tears immediately burn at his waterline but regret doesn't come when they travel down his cheek. You're kissing him and the self-depriciation doesn't once rise. That snivelling, hissing, voice of doubt remains mute as you hold him.

"So fucking pretty," he slips his finger in as if attempting to distract you with pleasure. It makes you keen but you continue to sing praises for him as he pumps his digits in and out of you.

It's hard to move when you curl your arms over his back, hands peeking from the stretched out collar of his shirt. Forehead once again pressed to his.

"I can't — "

"You're all mine. My pretty boy is all mine." Blood should not rush so quickly to one's head. His chest is dusted in red, his shoulders, his ear, the apples of his cheek —

"You feel so good, Sal."

You allow him to push you back, splaying out onto the floor with your eyes lidded in want as he looked at you.

"...Shit, you're making my brain go all stupid," he grumbles — it sounds more like a whine. You lift your hips as he tugs your pants down and off. Sal gets between your legs and for a moment you think he's about to just slide in — which causes you a bit of concern considering how much meat he's packing between his legs — but then he lays on his stomach and your cock peeks straight up.

"I've watched a few pornos," he says with a grimace, "but — "

"I can guide you, Sal." He's looking up at you with those doe eyes and you chuckle as you brush some of his hair back. "You made me cum from grinding on your goddamn leg before. You've got this, Sex Grandmaster Sal."

"Really don't think mentioning Larry's marijuana induced rambling is setting the mood, babe," your giggle smooths out the furrowed brows he had. "Sorry, sorry."

Your cunt is making his mouth water. Sal presses his thumb on your cock and the sigh you let out eases his worries. His tongue on your dick has you inhaling deeply, slowly, back arching off the floor as he looks up at you.

He's overzealous but fuck does it make you wetter than you've ever been. Licking and sucking on your cock while he teases the opening of your cunt with his fingers. The hints of teeth makes your hips twist but he holds your hips down with muffled groans.

"Fuck, yes. You're doing so good, Sal. S'fuckin' good — holy shit, babe," the way your voice gets all pitchy makes him grin. Your slick on his tongue is making him want more, so he spreads your lips apart and sinks his tongue inside, it makes your grip onto his head, and Sal moans into you at the pinpricks of pain that follow.

Fingers accompanies his tongue and you're clamping your thighs around his head. It forces Sal's face into your cunt and the whole thing has him chuckling against you.

Pinning your thighs apart, Sal licks and swipes at the slick around his mouth and chin, catching his breath as he curses.

"Fucking Christ, does it feel that good?" You whine in retaliation. "You're the one going down on me of course I'm going fuckin' crazy. You get all whiny when I go down on you too — "

He curls a finger inside of you and you cut yourself off with a particularly loud moan. The floorboards above you creak and like a deer lifting its head as a branch snaps in the distance, another follows as whoever was in the living room heard the echoing cries of pleasure.

Sal slips another finger in and you cover your mouth, glaring at his handsome face petulantly. It falters as he stretches you out, thrusting in and out with a steady rhythm that he occasionally breaks to curl his fingers up.

You're groaning and curling your toes, eyelids fluttering and squeezing shut as he jerks you off with his other hand. Loosening his jaw, Sal uses his spit to lube you up further. He had a thing for sloppy sex. You once joked he enjoyed the slick-and-slide of it all and he didn't deny it then and probably won't ever.

"Nuh - no, don't wanna cum yet, I wanna cum with you, baby," he slows his rhythm, staring at you as you lift yourself onto your hands and taste yourself on his lips.

"Want you inside me. Please, Sal, I'm beggin'"

"You don't have to. I've got you." He nods when you hold onto the waist of his pants. Pulling it down to his knees and let his cock spring out into the air. Fuck, it's a pretty dick.

It's fat and heavy. Thicker than longer, the girth always makes your toes curl. It's a darker colour compared to the rest of his skin tone, the mushroom tip a warmer shade that burns when you tease him too much. You motion for the couch and he leans against it, whispering your name as you hover over his cock.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he says as you pump his dick with your fist while you line it up to your cunt. "You're pretty fucking hot yourself, big dick," he struggles not to laugh in your face, shaking his head in 'disapproval' that's short-lived.

You sink down on the tip of his cock and Sal moans out your name, squeezing your hips. You shiver for a moment, willing your insides not to clench so excitedly when you've still got some ways to go.

"Shit, (Y/N). You're so fuckin' tight." You could not agree more. The more you go down on him, the more you're tempted to just squeeze him like a vice. Sal brings your face down to kiss him, very quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of it. It's no wonder teenagers made out in the hallways all the damn time.

Gravity helps you the rest of the way. When he's all the way inside of you, you part your lips, the way your eyebrows slope being felt on Sal's forehead as you clench around him.

"Fuuuuck, Sal" you're whimpering his name, arms wrapped around his neck as you look at him. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby."

He swallows thickly, reaching to push your hair away from your face as he gazes up.

"I love you, so fuckin' much. I love you, Sal," you're determined to make him turn into nothing but mush. He's certain of it. His insides felt like a field of flowers, all blooming at once, even if it didn't sense at all. There's an airy moan that escapes him as you squeeze your inner thighs, your hips move forward and Sal grips you like he's afraid you're just a figment of his imagination.

"I know, baby," he whispers back. "I love you, more than you can imagine."

A dopey grin appears on your face. "You think you can show me how much you love me, handsome?" He smiles and your heart feels like it's going to stop.

"I can do more than show you, pretty boy."

He turns you over on your side, not once pulling out. You hastily grab some couch pillows for the both of you before your descent onto the floor. It's cold but that's all the more reason to hold onto each other.

Once your head is on a pillow and you're on your back again, he drapes over you.

Another kiss. Another mischievous nibble. A sly dance of tongues.

Sal is pulling out, the drag of his dick makes you whimper, and thrusts back home. The action has your nails leaving welts on his back but it just reinvigorates him.

He's splitting you open and filling you up. Every thrust makes you see stars. You're unwilling to let him go if the legs wrapped around his waist are saying anything.

But Sal is growing flustered the more praises you tell him.

"That's it, baby. Fuck this pussy, this pussy's just for you."

"Fuck, you look so good, baby. On top of me, fucking me, shit — !"

"Oh, God, your cock is — yeah, right there! — you're in so deep, Sal -Ah!"

You're so fucking filthy.

He wants to hide his face in your neck but he doesn't wanna take his eyes off you. Eyes trailing where his lips and teeth had been, eyeing the sheen of sweat on you and your messed up hair.

The shower you just took had been in vain, huh?

"Fuh - fuck, I'm close," he warns, bracing himself on his elbows as he hovers above you.

"Yeah? Me — mff! — too. Cum inside, baby. Need to feel you — fuuuuck — dripping outta' me," he chuckles breathlessly at your words.

His hips are stuttering and he can see the way your brows are furrowing, angelic moan after angelic moan being knocked out of you. He gives your cock a rub and the way your back arches off the floor makes him hold his own orgasm back just so he can see you like this as clearly as he can take it in.

"Sal, oh fuck, baby!"

"I've got you, (Y/N)."

He chokes out a groan as he feels you clamping down on him, your cunt gripping onto him like it never wants him to let go. You gasp as he snatches your breath, messily making out with him as the aftershocks of your orgasm are barrelled through thanks to Sal's deep thrusts.

"Shit, shit, shit," you smile as he begins to lose his rhythm. Ignoring how sensitive your boypussy feels as he chases his end. "C'mon, baby, fill me up. Yeah, that's it."

He cums with one final thrust. The warmth of it floods your insides, earning pleasant shivers from you as you moan out his name. He's riding his orgasm out, pushing in and out of you shallowly as he catches his breath above you.

"Jesus, fuck..." You giggle at his words, chest rising and falling in rapid motions as your heart tries to calm down.

"That was, Christ, that was — " "Fucking amazing?"

He nods, falling on top of you as carefully as he can. You embrace him, humming as he kisses your neck while you rub his back. The both of you catch your breath, satisfied expressions etched on your faces.

When Sal moves, your eyes are already closed. He pulls out and you whimper at the loss, ignoring the way he stares at his own jizz dripping out of your cunt in favor of gazing at his face.

"We gotta take a shower all over again," he says, helping you sit up and accepting the hug you give him when you're righted.

"...Wanna do it all over again in the shower?" Your question earns a throaty chuckle. "Thought it was implied in my statement."

Another beat of comfortable silence is shared. Sal sighs, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Thank you, (Y/N)."

"I've got you, Sal."

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #ftm reader #trans reader #sally face x reader #sally face x male reader #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x male reader

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deadinthedisco · 2 years ago

Text

in love in italy

hey!!! long time no see…sorry i’ve been off the grid - i’ve been working loads. i just randomly wrote this (I was feeling very poetic after reading Sally Rooney lmfao) hope you enjoy!

being with harry in Italy brings on some intense feelings that you just need to confess.

warnings: very brief mentions of sex, other than that it’s absolutely heart wrenching fluff.

word count: ~1k

You’ve never felt like this before.

At least, not when you're in the middle of having sex with someone.

This wasn't just someone though, it was Harry.

Sweet and gentle Harry, whom had made everything feel a little bit lighter for you since the moment you met. Here he was, skin so close to yours it felt like he was trying to meld you both together like clay. His head was dipped into your shoulder, his breaths heaving but blissful. You felt like a pot of boiling sugar bubbling up to a gooey caramel and oozing into the bed below you. He made you feel as though one look from him or one kiss from him would make you shed every negative piece of your mind.

"You okay? You're awfully quiet after that." He half laughs, referring to the intense scene of love that was just displayed in the early hours of the morning, in a random villa in Italy. You’d woken up to get a glass of water and returned to bed to find Harry awake. A quick good night kiss turned into wandering hands and clothes being stripped to the floor. It wasn't quick, or impatient, the way you'd held eachother. It was intense, and thick and heavy — like there was something lingering for the two of you. You feel a few tears slip to yours ears and on to the pillows. Harry still hasn't noticed, gently stroking the leg around his waist. You scratch your fingers in his hair and let out a shaky breath.

You always found it hard to hold in your cries, since you were small. They swelled your chest like a balloon, and with a sharp gasp of breath the balloon pops and Harry's snapping his head up quickly and brushing your hair out of your face.

"Woah, woah. What's wrong?" His voice is panicked and you don't find yourself trying to avoid his gaze, which is strange. You don't feel upset, you feel overwhelmed. Harry always said it scared him how every time you looked at him it felt like you were reading his mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow, the warm room making you feel flushed. Or was it this nagging urge to tell Harry something you’d kept to yourself for so long, out of fear of scaring him off so early in your relationship.

You smile, and he must think you look manic, grin growing the more you look at him, his constant over concern for you, like he couldn’t bear to think of anything bad happening to you.

“I feel good.” You say quietly, running your thumb over his mole next to his mouth.

“Yeah? That’s good.” He kisses you softly.

“Do you feel good?” He nods at your question without hesitation.

His eyes seem to gloss over akin to yours, and the words are literally behind your teeth when he says, “Always when I’m with you. You make me feel so safe. I can’t describe it-”

“I love you so much, Harry.” The tears are no longer tears, rather streams of saltiness that saturate your hair and Harry’s hands. He seems to deposit the last of the air in his lungs before he can speak again. Like your words winded him.

“You love me?” His voice is timid, and his hand is now shaking.

“You know that thing, where people paint in acrylic on a canvas, and it looks good, but kind of dull? A bit moody?” Harry nods, with a small smile creeping up his face. You always were one for the metaphor, “and then they paint it with that shimmery gloss and it makes the painting look so different. Like it’s brand new, and you’re finally seeing it in its best form? That’s how you make me feel. I wasn’t bad before, I just needed something…or someone to make me more vibrant. You do that for me. And I love you for it.”

He laughs, and the movement makes his tears fall out of his eyes and on to your cheeks. You are the most emotionally intelligent person he’s ever met in his life and he can’t believe that you’re in love with him.

“You always come up with the most beautiful metaphors...” he kisses you again, like staring at your face for too long brings on the urge to just devour you whole. “I genuinely think my entire life was created to coexist with yours, and just hear every piece of your mind that you’ll let me.”

You pull him down again and kiss him again. You were insatiable for his kisses, they were like oxygen for you. He’s still crying, and you’re still crying, and all you can hear around you is his heavy heartbeat and the owls in the trees around you. Your favourite place to be with Harry was in his Italian house. It felt like no one in the world existed or cared about the two of you when you were within these walls.

“I love you. I have done for months and I will do for a lifetime. Okay?” His brows are pinched together, in a sincere and reassuring way. Like he needs you to know that he’s not going anywhere.

“Okay.” You smile widely, until your cheeks hurt and your eyes wrinkle. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Now that it’s out in the air it feels like the only form of communication between you both in this moment. Harry rocks against your hips and kisses your neck, and you begin to breathe shallow. You whine when he connects your lips again.

“Show me how much you love me, H.”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry #harry styles story #boyfriendrry #harry styles smut #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles imagine #harry styles husband #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles oneshot

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dinasfavslut · 2 years ago

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hello could you do a sal fisher x fem reader who is very confident but also really friendly?

Ok so I tried but I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut or fluff I guess it’s just more fluff and to be completely honest is was kinda lazy with it I’m sorry it’s not my best but I hope you like it (probably will delete later)

Sally Face x Fem!r

No major warnings slight smut near the end but just like leaving marks and neck kisses

I believe that he has many insecurities because of the trauma he experienced as a child and because of the mask he wears.

When you go to the beach, Sal normally doesn't get in the water; he doesn't want his mask to get torn or fly off by a large wave, and if he does, he makes sure it doesn't get above his knees.

As much as he adores you, he is also envious of your confidence and unaffected demeanor when you fall flat on your face in public. People fall all the time. So, if someone messes up your or his order when getting food, you call the waitress back so they may make the necessary corrections.

You met for the first time in college. You could say you were popular, but it was more about how kind you were and how many friends you had. You were well-known, but not everyone knew who you were or wished to be like you. So you were sitting in chemistry as the "popular" girl next to the "quiet" guy (it's always the quiet ones). "Woah, that's such a cool mask!"

"Oh, uh, thanks."

"Did you make it yourself or get it from somewhere?"

“It’s just prosthetic." He didn't want to give into too much information since he didn't want to scare you away too quickly. He was surprised you didn't ask him what the mask was for; that hadn't come up in a long time.

You've been dating for a few months but have only known each other for around a year."Don't you want to know why I am wearing this?"

"I mean, yeah, I've always wondered, but you haven't seemed at ease talking about why you wear it or what happened, but I think you'll tell me when you're ready."

It took him some time. He removed his mask totally about five months into the relationship. He was stunning. You couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair and kiss him like you'd wanted to for so long. His lips were surprisingly soft. Larry and Ash are the only people who have seen his face (his father is irrelevant). You're now staring at him in awe. "I knew you'd look lovely, but I really underestimated myself." He drew you back into the embrace. It was brimming with passion, love, hunger, and lust.

You feel like it was harder not to kiss him. Consider how many times he's wanted to pull off the mask and make out with you, but he couldn't be too concerned about how you'd scream in fright or slap him for leading you on for so long just to be mortified under his mask. He was well aware that they were ridiculous ideas.

It was dark and rainy outside, and he had planned to take you out to a nice meal. You had your hair done perfectly, your makeup was simple, highlighting your best features, and you wore a dress that accentuated all of your curves as well as a pair of sneakers to look attractive while remaining comfortable. He was driving with his headlights on, barely able to see due to the heavy rain. "Holy shit, Sal! Stop the car, Sal!" He pushed on the brakes, forcing himself forward as you jumped out of the car. A cat was frozen in front of the car; it was dark, wet, and shivering. You cloaked it in a hoodie.

Your hair was a mess, and what you thought was smear-proof mascara was running down your cheeks. "We don't have to go if you don't want us to."

“No no, I'll just put my hair up and clean my make-up." You walked into the restaurant, garnering strange looks as if you'd been living on the street. "sal table for two?"

The night finished with you leaving markings all over him and him biting into your neck, which was okay because you were willing to wear anything that claimed you as his.

#sally face #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #sally face x reader #bro is so fine on my knees #I need him 🤭

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ninathekillxr · 4 months ago

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Hi, there! Hello! 👋

I heard you’re running out of ideas, so I’ll help you out.

Who would most likely believe aliens (if your AU has them) exist? And if so, how might they interact with the alien?

You my dearest darling are an absolute genius I’m IN LOVE with this idea it’s absolutely perfecto! I fear this is gonna be a really long one…

Would the creeps

Believe in aliens?

Ticci Toby~

- 100% believer

- Even if it’s not exactly aliens he thinks there’s no way there isn’t something out there

- Used to watch those clickbait YouTube videos of people proving alien life was real

Eyeless Jack~

- He prefers to think of himself as a man of science so he wouldn’t admit to ever believing in aliens

- A part of him does believe that it’s possible for something else to be out there.

Jeff The Killer~

- He denies believing as if it was an insult but used to be a whole hearted believer when he was younger.

- Used to have alien pins on his bag

Jane The Killer~

- She doesn’t really think about it as it doesn’t ever really cross her mind.

BEN DROWNED~

- Believes with his entire being

- Has alien boxers

- Definitely has a bunch of alien shirts

- He plays alien games all the time he finds them amazing

Nina The Killer~

- She doesn’t really believe in aliens

- She loves the alien printed shirts and stickers and has tons of them.

- She would probably believe in aliens if she spent the time to check what the hype was.

Clockwork~

- is similar to Jane and doesn’t think about it often

- If she really had to say she’d say that it’s possible but she just doesn’t really care.

Kate The Chaser~

- She once had a weird dream about being abducted

- Believes purely because of the dream and how real it felt.

Masky/TimWright~

- Doesn’t believe

- He thinks the idea of aliens are stupid and unrealistic.

- ‘if there were aliens someone would’ve found it out by now’

Hoodie/BrianThomas~

- Doesn’t care much

- He’d like to think there was aliens out there and other life forms

- Doesn’t spend much time thinking about it

BloodyPainter/Helen~

- Used to be scared that he would get abducted and probed

- alien horror shows scarred him as a child

- Has an alien cap that he never wears.

Sally Williams~

- Of course she does

- She believes in the silly green icon you find on shirts and stickers

- She thinks they would be super nice and fun

Laughing Jack~

- He doesn’t really care enough to have an opinion

- if you asked he’d shrug you off and probably walk away.

Lulu~

- She likes the idea of aliens

- she knows it’s unrealistic but enjoys the dream

Homicidal Liu~

- Doesn’t believe

- Used to when he was younger

- Had an alien backpack and pack lunch bag

And the question that matters the most!

Are the aliens real in my au?

- drumroll pleaseeeee -

Yes. Yes they are.

Nina’s comments~

Omg this was so silly and fun to make! I feel like I coulda done more but this really has me giggling! To the amazing doll who requested this ily your amazing! I love getting requests lol

Nina out!

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tadanoningen-fr · 6 months ago

Text

My WH Brick by Brick Notes

(PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS WHOLE POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE 10/2024 WELCOME HOME UPDATE! DO NOT READ IF YOU DID NOT SEE THE UPDATE, YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND ANYWAY!)

Also this is a very large post and there may be some grammatical errors. I recommend watching the video and listening to the audio while reading these notes. If you can't, IWillGetYourSmile! (PROMISE) on YouTube recently put up the videos and audio for anyone who cannot see them on the website.

Sorry for not putting bullet points, I wrote them on a doc and pasted it here and I was lazy to bullet point everything :')

Brick By Brick

Barnaby’s handprints are on the pages and they’re splotched in black like the gunk seen in the exhibition.

Black gunk are on the pages; title, 2, 8, 9, 14, it’s clearly implied they’re from Barnaby turning the pages, but how and why is Barnaby reading this book?

(Probably over-analyzing) Wally’s face on page 4 seems a little too blackened out.

Poppy wanted to make a cozy for her lamp, Coffin referenced this in one of the Q&A posts for Poppy!

Sally is the character with most of her text missing from the book. Maybe it’s because she keeps breaking the 4th wall talking to the narrator?

Page 7 shows all the neighbors except Poppy, even Eddie is here!

Barnaby’s reaction to Poppy refusing to be in the play is rudely lackadaisical…though he delivers truths harshly.

Sally seems to have a close relationship with Poppy; she cares about her more than any other neighbor. Her feelings were hurt realizing that she made Poppy scared.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to call Sally “downright rude”. Damn Eddie, now you’re sharing the resentment? I don’t really blame him…

It’s weird that Sally is now worried that Poppy may hear or see her play, isn’t she supposed to be happy about that?

Barnaby’s black-splotched paw is seen again at the corner left of page 9, I think it was his thumb after he turned the page from page 8.

Julie is afraid of the dark.

Almost every appearance he makes, Barnaby is holding food.

Franks’ advice is logical, in which he suggests making Poppy man up so she can at least see the play.

Barnaby started the idea (possibly unintentionally) of “brick by brick”, and for some reason Sally took it too literally. Wait, wasn’t Frank supposed to take things literally?

Light red watercolor paint surrounds Poppy when she’s worried.

Why did the entire neighborhood think that bricking Poppy’s windows was a good idea? I can’t help but feel as if they weren’t quite themselves when doing this.

The shading in page 15, especially on Poppy, seems oddly realistic and not cartoony unlike the whole book art style.

Although most would raise an eyebrow at Poppy’s excitement understanding why she’s being bricked up, I think it kinda makes sense because Poppy always cares about safety, and knowing that the neighbors are bricking her in for her sake, she is okay with this in a way. (She is confirmed to think of this as well.)

Page 14 doesn’t really look like Barnaby’s black paw, but it kinda looks like fingers instead. Who is this? It’s placed oddly at the top of the page.

When Sally calls them peanuts, Barnaby is surprised. I’m also a little surprised because Barnaby was the one who calls Wally peanuts, but here Sally uses it on them.

The Missing Audio

Who says “No, please sit with me.”? I think it’s probably Wally as he doesn’t perform in Sally’s plays often.

We seem to be in Poppy’s perspective, while the book is in the neighbors’ perspective (or maybe Sally’s) as soon as things get quiet.

The breathing is either Poppy’s or the monster Sally describes, as it was seen getting late in page 14 (or it could be just the spotlight effect).

Wood scratching is heard, this is most likely the monster Sally described scratching Poppy’s barn.

Does Poppy think the monster is a neighbor? Is that why she’s saying “the door’s open”?

The monster seems to try to get into Poppy’s home, but if what Poppy says is true (the door is open), why can’t it come in?

The rattling of the doorknob reminds me of how Home speaks through house onomatopoeias, but it’s probably unlikely that Home is making these noises.

Was Poppy trying to get out of her home in fear of the monster? Why the echos?

Sally is the one who says “A-are you alright?”.

I’m still wondering if it’s daytime or nighttime because if it’s nighttime, this might confirm the monster trying to get to Poppy, but if it’s daytime, it will be unconfirmed.

Is Poppy outside? Why is she confused about where she is?

Frank is the one who says “Y-You’re out! The door’s open, why didn’t you open the door?!”. He sounds confused and angry. Maybe he got frightened.

Aftermath Notes & Questions:

Did this take place before or after Homewarming?

We seem to be approaching a pattern with how Darkness and the neighbors interacted with each other; Eddie Dear was surrounded in darkness at homewarming, leading him to a breakdown and panicking, Julie is afraid of the dark, even if it’s caused by something so simple, and when Poppy was surrounded in darkness, the monster was implied to come after her, making her panic.

This is the second time Sally and Frank appear at the end when someone is in trouble, and their time of appearances are the same as well. This happened with Eddie in Homewarming, but Sally left and Frank stayed, and now with Poppy, both Sally and Frank were there.

If this pattern of darkness and the neighbors keep going, this means that the neighbors may be the prey of something we have yet to understand. The question of Wally and Home’s innocence is still unclear, but now Eddie and Poppy are out of the question for being evil in this story for sure. Perhaps Sally and Frank too, but we don’t have enough evidence at the moment.

A question that just appeared and is still unanswered is why Barnaby’s black paw prints are seen in the book. Another thing I noticed is that Barnaby’s paw blocked out the author and illustrator, and so did the record player too. Could this mean that Barnaby may be helping to hide certain things? If so, why? Barnaby’s paws also had been avoiding the pages of where Poppy appears every time.

A little theory about the black paws; Barnaby somehow got his hands on the Brick by Brick book, and began skimming through it until page 14, where someone takes the book from Barnaby and the book is sent to the restoration team. This theory is just based on the black paw prints and fingers, because after page 14, there were no more black prints. And it’s more oddly suspicious that the last black print we see isn’t Barnaby’s, plus it was in an odd place.

#welcome home arg #welcome home update #poppy partridge #barnaby b beagle #sally starlet #frank frankly #eddie dear

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sgtpeppers · 2 months ago

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So slightly inspired by that anon who asked about weird Paul facts, I'm a bit curious if you could elaborate more on Paul's relationship with his dreams? (side note: I had to look up a photo of Allen Klein and no hate to him but Paul was so real for being scared I would've been terrified too if that guy was putting me to sleep as a dentist)

Hey! Thank you for the question, I'd love to talk about this! (also you're so right, dentists freak me out anyway but he would be particularly terrifying).

So Paul said in a 2020 interview with the New York Times (x) that he’s “a great believer in dreams" and "a great rememberer of dreams” and boy does he like to tell people about them. I do think sometimes there’s a bit (or a lot) of exaggeration, but even so, they’re important enough to him that he wants us to think that’s the story.

So I’ve pulled together the quotes I can remember, and there’s definitely more than this, but I’ve tried to split them into categories and provided a couple of examples of each, plus some of my thoughts.

Dreams & Creation:

Look, yeah, we’ve heard these stories a million times, and I think the story of Let It Be in particular is a bit more complicated than the way Paul tells it now. But what’s important to me is the idea that creative people will pay attention to things like dreams, their mind wandering off, daydreaming etc. Everyone does it, but I think people like Paul who just have that instinct to make things, get good at noticing the little threads their subconscious has picked up from somewhere and learn to follow them.

Somewhere in a dream, I heard this tune. When I woke up, I thought, ‘I love that tune. What is it? Is it Fred Astaire? Is it Cole Porter? What is it?’ I fell out of bed and the piano was right there, just to the side. I thought I’d try and work out how the song went.

(On Yesterday, The Lyrics, 2022)

I fell asleep exhausted one day and had a dream in which my mum (who had died ten years previously) did in fact come to me…and she said to me ‘Everything will be alright. Let it be.’ I woke up thinking this would be a great subject for a song.”

(On Let It Be, The Lyrics, 2022)

This series – I just woke up one morning and I had a germ of an idea, which is all I want really. I don’t want too formed an idea, it’s just not who I am.

(On a series of paintings he did, interview with Modern Painters, 2000).

Anxiety Dreams:

We’ve all had them; turning up to school or work with no clothes, having to take a test you haven’t studied for etc. Paul’s no different, only the things he worries about are a little less mundane - gigs going wrong, audiences losing interest, or that guy you definitely don’t want to be your manager turning up as a creepy dentist.

I also quite like in the quote about Klein below, the idea that he somehow invaded Paul's dreams which are supposed to be a safe space, especially if we're thinking about Paul's dreams in terms of a creative source for him. Klein appearing in them as a villain conjures the idea of him blocking Paul's creativity.

I was having dreams Klein was a dentist. I remember telling everyone and they all laughed but I said, ‘No, this was a fucking scary dream!’ I said, ‘I can’t be with this guy any longer. He’s in my dreams now, and he’s a baddie.’ He was giving me injections in my dreams to put me out and I was thinking, Fucking hell! I’ve just become so powerless. There’s nothing I can do to stop the rot.

(Many Years From Now, Barry Miles)

It’s actually a recurring dream of mine: I’m playing and people start walking out, and I’m trying to think of a song that will get them back – “do ‘Long Tall Sally’ - quick!” – but they keep walking – “let’s do ‘Yesterday’!” – it’s typical performer’s insecurities.

(You Gave Me The Answer, 2022)

Dreams about people he’s lost:

Paul has experienced a lot of grief in his life from a young age, and with people he had extremely close relationships with. I think it’s super understandable that he’d put a lot of meaning in them appearing in his dreams. I will note, there are a lot more examples of this than I’ve included here, and in particular he talks about dreaming of John a lot, but I think these two quotes sum up his feelings on people appearing to him.

When you dream about seeing someone you’ve lost, even though sometimes it’s just for a few seconds, it really does feel like they’re right there with you, and it’s as if they’ve always been there. I think anyone who’s lost someone close to them understands that, especially in the period of time just after they’ve passed away. Still to this day I dream about John and George and talk to them. But in this dream, seeing my mum’s beautiful, kind face and being with her in a very peaceful place was very comforting.

(On Let It Be, The Lyrics, 2022)

I love when people revisit you in your dreams. I often have band dreams and they're crazy. I'm often with John and just talking about something, and I come to get my Hofner bass, ready to play, and it's covered in sticky tape. You know, dreams.

(The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, 2019)

Shared dreams with John:

Part of that weird belief he and John had that they had some sort of telepathic connection was the idea that they shared dreams. I find this very endearing despite the fact I don’t think it was true. (I think probably sometimes they’d just tell each other their dreams and they were so dead set on them being Special and Different the other one would just be like ‘omg me too’) Anyway, repeating what I said about the song dreams, I do think the fact Paul tells these stories as though they are true is still interesting, and shows the importance to him.

The first quote is also interesting just due to the fact Paul does seem to have some kind of belief that dreams can be 'minor premonitions'.

Life gives you minor premonitions. You don’t think of them as premonitions until the dream comes true and then you think, ‘Hey, I wonder if that was a sign.’ I remember when John and I were first hanging out together, I had a dream about digging in the garden with my hands. I’d dreamt that before but I’d never found anything other than an old tin can. But in this dream I found a gold coin. I kept digging and I found another. And another. The next day I told John about this amazing dream I’d had and he said, ‘That’s funny, I had the same dream.’ So both of us had this dream of finding this treasure. And I suppose you could say it came true. I remember years later talking about it – ‘Remember that dream we had?’; ‘Yeah, that was far out.’ So the message of that dream was: keep digging, lads.

(Interview with Big Issue, 2012)

There’s also this conversation from Get Back which is technically a John dream, but you can infer that John’s expecting Paul to have had the same dream:

John: [to Paul] Hey…did you dream about me last night? Paul: I don’t remember. John: Very strong dream. We both dreamt about it… Amazing. Different dreams, you know. I thought you must have been there. I mean, I was touching you. George: Was it sexually oriented? Paul: Oh, you know, John, don’t worry about it. John: There’s nothing to worry about.

Misc:

So I used a small piece of this quote earlier, from Paul's interview about his paintings, and also I see the part about having homosexual dreams floating around all the time (and I get it, it’s a kinda funny thing to say), but I actually think the whole quote is a really interesting insight into the meaning Paul places on dreams, and that initial point I made about following threads that your brain gives you:

But that’s what started to fascinate me. It’s probably an accident, but also what I like about that is the inner content, that I have no idea what my dreams are about. I’ve no idea, yet they’re every bit as real as sitting here with you. But my interior world, I think it’s not a bad idea to try and tap it. My view is that these things are there whether you want them or not, in your interior. You don’t call up dreams, they happen, often the exact opposite of what you want. You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, “Shit, am I gay?” I like that you don’t have control over it. But there is some control — it is you dreaming, it is your mind it’s all happening in. In a way my equation would be that my computer is fully loaded by now. Maybe in younger people there’s a little bit of loading to go, but mine’s loaded pretty much, so what I try and do is allow it to print out unbeknown to me. And I’m interested to hear what it’s got in there. I think we must be interested as musicians as often our music arrives that way. I dreamed the song Yesterday. It was just in a dream, I woke up one morning and had a melody in my head. so I have to believe in that.”

(Interview with Modern Painters, 2000)

And just to finish off, that lovely succinct quote I took from the NYT article at beginning of this post actually leads into a bit of a longer conversation about Paul’s dreams. Which yeah… it’s Paul. Of course he has something to say about sex in dreams and somehow manages to make it weirder.

What’s the last interesting dream you had? Last night’s was pretty good. What was it? It was of a sexual nature, so I’m not sure it’s good for the Kids section. Pretty cool, though. Very interesting, dreams of a sexual nature when you’re married. Because your married head is in the dream saying: “Don’t do this. Don’t go here.” And just to let you know, I didn’t. It was still a good dream.”

(New York Times interview, 2020)

So there we have it, like that quote says at the start, I think he's just become good at remembering his dreams and his creative brain likes to find meaning in them, or comfort in them when he's missing the people he loves but has lost. I also think there's a bit of an ego thing going on, and he probably like the narrative of things just appearing to him in dreams, but when you actually look at what he's saying, what's more accurate is he just uses little nuggets from them to build on.

Aaand I've gone on for far longer than I intended, but I hope this was helpful/interesting!

#paul mccartney #the beatles #ask #fleetn-crab85 #ref:paul #ref:dreams

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