#My Gal Sal

[rosepompadour]

RITA HAYWORTH in MY GAL SAL (1942)

[dimepicture]

[theroseinthedarkness]

Rita Hayworth’s costumes in My Gal Sal (1942)

dir. Irving Cummings

[gatabella]

Rita Hayworth, My Gal Sal, 1942

[recycledmoviecostumes]

This elegant gown, masterfully crafted by the renowned designer Travis Banton, made its dazzling debut on Kay Francis, who portrayed Donna Lucia d’Alvadorez in the adaptation of Brandon Thomas’ beloved play, Charley’s Aunt. Although the audience saw it in black and white, its true color was revealed the following year when it graced Rita Hayworth as Sally Elliott in the film My Gal Sal.

Costume Credit: veryfancydoilies

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[dozydawn]

[bughead-in-the-comics]

From My Gal Sal, Jughead Double Digest #86 (2002).

[abunchofnumbers05]

Either we ship Makima with the Winged Lion so she can fufil her furry dream or we ship her with Kenjaku and they get to have a Brazilian for a son

[ivystoryweaver]

Fairytale of New York

Summary: A tired, pathetic puppy wanders into your diner on Christmas Eve. Things...escalate.

Pairing: Llewyn Davis from Inside Llewyn Davis x f!reader who wants what she wants

Word Count: 2.2k

Content: nsfw, mdni, language, mentions of past mistreatment, talk of contraception, gun but no violence, oral -f and m rec., not beta'd

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Bone-weary.

Your grandmother used to say it.

The man in front of you looked deep-in-his-bones, forlornly, kicked-puppy exhausted.

Which was a feat in and of itself, seeing how you were surrounded this evening by hungry, homeless people, and he was definitely the most handsome one by far.

Chocolate curls tumbled effortlessly across his forehead. His dark beard was kempt - not the fuzzy, matted mess of the men around him.

At first glance, you wondered if he was here to order a regular meal or volunteer. He almost looked put-together enough.

But he sighed - a bone-weary, defeated, groaning sigh.

"Cold night," you commented, noticing how he struggled to create even the tiniest spark of warmth from his corduroy blazer and wool scarf. He seemed to try and make himself smaller, as if willing the too-thin layers of fabric to truly envelop him.

"No shit," he fired back, clenching his fingerless glove around the handle of his guitar case. Noticing your look of slight amusement, he sighed, tiredly. "Sorry. Long night. Wondering if I could get some coffee?"

"Sure thing," you nodded past him to an empty two-top, offering him a warm smile.

Your boss Sal was a hard ass with a heart of gold. On Christmas Eve, anyone could eat free from ten to midnight at this fine dining establishment where you earned your measly paycheck.

You were living the dream - serving diner tables. But Sal was good to you and the other guys and gals you called coworkers - granting holiday bonuses and sometimes, you could swear he beefed up your tips at the end of the night. Just a couple dollars here or there, but it helped.

You returned to the pathetic puppy of a man with a fresh, hot cup of coffee. "Want something to eat? Everything's on the house tonight."

One eyebrow shot up curiously. "Free? You're serious."

"It's Christmas Eve," you said mysteriously, wiggling your fingers as if casting a spell. "Sal's got a soft spot for people who need a hot meal and got nowhere to go."

Kicked Puppy nodded, his eyes momentarily flickering up and down your body.

"So, what'll it be, handsome? You want something to warm you up besides that coffee? Or do you have a pressing holiday engagement?"

Narrowing his tired, dark eyes, he looked like he was trying to come up with a clever reply, but ultimately let out a defeated, bitter-ish chuckle. "Got friends, but...every one of them's pissed at me. On my own tonight."

He shrugged helplessly. "I guess I'm kind of an asshole sometimes."

Wagging your finger, you went along with him, playfully. "I could tell that about you, right when you walked in. I took one look and thought, 'that guy is definitely an asshole. Probably shouldn't serve him.'"

He almost chuckled, but it was a weak laugh at best.

"Bowl of chili sound good? Or...I have chicken noodle, or a hamburger. Not much left in the kitchen," you offered.

A few minutes later, Mr. Handsome Kicked Puppy sipped his bowl of chili while you finished up with your other customers. A few of the homeless guys liked to flirt with you, but they were pretty harmless.

Everyone knew not to cross Sal and his employees anyway.

You noticed Kicked Puppy's gaze fixed on you, so you made your way back over and checked to see if he needed a refill.

"I'm good," he waved you off, but something made you linger. Probably the fact that he was kind of beautiful.

"You a singer?" You prodded, nodding to his guitar case.

He made a face - seemed to be a sore spot for him, but concurred. "Sang across the street tonight. You ever been?"

Peering out the window, you read the club's neon sign. "No, but I always wanted to. What kind of music?"

"The only kind," he shrugged.

You motioned to the spot across from him. "Mind if I sit a minute? Feet are killing me. Promise I won't ask you to sing."

He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest, eyeing you curiously. "Oh, you won't?"

"'Course not," you smiled, waving your hand dismissively. "Everyone knows musicians hate that. It's like...your living. You can't just sing for free."

His eyebrows shot up as he leaned in. "You're mocking me..."

"No," you laughed. "I'm serious. It would be like someone asking me to serve drinks at a party without paying me." You motioned around you. "Not much of a career but I should still get paid for it."

"Thank you." He gestured animatedly. "My...friends - some of the people who usually let me crash - always try to parade me out at dinner parties, like an attraction. Fucking annoying."

He paused for a moment. "Almost feel like I owe them sometimes, you know... Can't do it, though."

"You have your pride," you sympathetically reasoned. "That's fair enough."

You stood, reaching to collect his dirty dishes. "So, who's couch is it tonight if everyone's pissed at you?"

Running a gloved hand over his beard, he shook his head and shrugged. "What time do you close?"

"Midnight."

He slowly nodded.

"What's your name, singer?"

"Llewyn."

You smiled softly and introduced yourself. "You don't have anywhere to go after midnight, do you?"

He shook his head as his gaze dropped.

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12:24 A.M. - Christmas

"Can't believe you're letting a strange man sleep in your apartment," the handsome bone-weary puppy voiced as you turned the key in your deadbolt.

"You're not a stranger anymore, Llewyn," you replied, trying to find just the right way to wiggle your key... "Got it! Damn thing sticks all the time."

Shouldering your way inside, you tossed your bag on the tiniest kitchen bar in existence, motioning for him to come on in.

"Like I told you - it's not much. You might be warmer sleeping in a car, but the love seat will keep you off this frigid, hard floor. And the water's warm, since we're over the diner. Sal's my landlord too. He keeps everything running nice enough. Cheap ass on heat though."

"No, I really appreciate it," he gratefully returned, “especially on Christmas. You sure I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No..." You let out a wistful sigh. "No, I don't have anyone." You smirked at him playfully. "But I do own a revolver if you're having any weird ideas."

"Holy shit," he whistled. "Glad you take care of yourself, I guess."

Llewyn reveled in your attention and care over the next half hour. You made a batch of hot cocoa while he took the warmest shower he'd had in weeks. You turned on a Christmas record and found a couple of thick blankets for him to sleep (or attempt to sleep) cramped up on the love seat.

"Thank you for this," he quietly voiced, sipping his cocoa, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. "Don't deserve it. If you knew me, you'd push me right back out that door."

"Maybe," you shrugged, sipping your own warm beverage as you curled up in the only chair in the place. "But it's Christmas. Even assholes and loners need a break sometimes."

He regarded you with interest, his eyes raking over your form for the millionth time. "That what you are? A loner?"

You hid behind the ceramic of your mug for a moment of reprieve. "Have to be. What else is there for a woman who doesn't want a marriage and kids?"

You shuddered, remembering how many times your ex had sabotaged your efforts at contraception...and how violent he'd become when he found out you were actively trying to not get pregnant.

Hence the waitress job, freezing apartment...and the revolver.

"You don't want kids?" He asked, clearing his throat. Maybe you were somehow...perfect.

"I really don't. You’d think women would have a few more options now that it’s the ‘60s. So I got my revolver to make sure my ex stays away. He’s a bigger asshole than the two of us," you answered, transparently. Noticing how his dark eyes widened at your candor, you laughed.

"Scared yet?"

"No," he chuckled. "But I guess that answers the question of whether or not we're gonna fuck."

Smirking, you took one more sip of cocoa before pushing off your chair to kneel down in front of him. Your eyes met his challengingly as you spread your palms over his thighs, pushing them up to his hips.

"That why you're an asshole?" You challenged, reaching for the zipper of his trousers. "Can't be bothered to wear a condom?"

"Can't afford that shit," he fired back, enjoying the view down your t-shirt.

"Definitely an asshole," you shake your head, dragging his zipper down and tracing your fingertips over the outline of his hardening length with your fingertips.

"My pussy's off limits unless you want my revolver shoved up your ass," you inform, leaning over to suck on his leaking tip through the fabric of his underwear. "But fuck it. It's Christmas. You can come in my mouth."

"Fucking hell," he groaned at your forwardness, shifting his hips to give you easier access to pull his cock free.

"Oh shit, you're big," you marveled, running the tip of your tongue over your lips in anticipation. Wrapping your hands around him, you turned your eyes up to his. "Merry Christmas. Don't say I never gave you anything."

You licked a stripe up the underside of his shaft before placing him on your flat tongue. Your eyes flickered back up to his tauntingly as you slowly wrapped your lips around him and swirled your tongue.

"Jes....oh fuck," he moaned, gripping the arm of the tiny couch.

Bobbing your head up and down a few times, you pushed yourself past the point of comfort and swallowed his tip. Your mouth stretched to take him, and the challenge of it made you instantly wet.

“Holy f-fuck,” he responded eagerly, “just like that.” You let him fuck your mouth, free hand gripping your jaw as his hips found a rhythm thrusting and gagging you.

Something about how pathetic this man was - how eager and responsive to your touch - it was doing it for you. You hadn’t done anything this spontaneous in a long time, but it felt good. And you certainly didn’t mind a heavy, hot cock in your mouth.

A few heavy thrusts and gags later and he coated your throat with his spend, letting out a near embarrassing whine as he came.

You let him soften before pulling off him and licking your lips clean. “Bet you’ll sleep well now.” You winked.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, shaking his head as you stood and started to shed your clothes. Remembering you were pretty clear about not fucking without a condom, he slowly stood, stuffing his soft cock back into his pants. “What are you…”

“I have a twin bed, but you’ll fit better than on that thing.” You nodded to the love seat, now standing in front of him completely nude. “But to sleep with me, you’re gonna need to return the favor. I’m fucking soaked.”

Minutes later, this rather beautiful, bearded man knelt between your legs in bed, his prominent nose nudging tauntingly at your puffy clit. His plush mouth sampled your pussy lips, as if he was making out with your cunt.

“F-fuck yes,” you groaned as he fucked his tongue into your hole, sucking and slurping at your juices.

Your fingers slid into the softest curls, twisting them around your fingers as you rocked your pelvis up to meet his soft beard.

The he started humming. And not just a humming sound but a fucking tune. After several delicious, deep thrusts of his tongue, he pulled out, making you whine at the loss of stimulation.

His hum gently morphed into a few lyrics as his eyes gazed up at you, equal parts cocky and pussy drunk - your slick coating his beard and lips.

‘Hang me, oh hang me…I’ll be dead and gone…’

He slid two fingers into your slick, warm hole, curling them with the dexterity of an instrumentalist. Then lowered his smirking mouth back down to trace circles around your clit with his tongue. Kept right on humming.

Laying his tongue flat, he laved your sensitive bundle of nerves with a few rough licks before wrapping those sexy lips around it and sucking.

He added a third finger - you were plenty wet enough for it and the slight stretch made your back arch off your twin bed. Fingers curling, lips sucking, and that insistent hum sent you right over the edge into earth-shattering bliss. Your body seized in mind-altering pleasure and then went completely white as you rode out the best orgasm you’d had in years.

He worked you through it before blatantly licking you clean and climbing his way up your body to cage you in. The look on his face told you he was definitely satisfied with himself, but the hot flesh of his cock prodding at your thigh meant he didn’t want this to be over.

"Is that my revolver or are you ready for more?" You teased, reaching to wrap you fingers around his cock. "Don't think I have any condoms big enough for all this."

He groaned, hips shifting into your grip. "Maybe we could just - "

"I'll will shoot you. Go the fuck to sleep, Llewyn."

And that's how an exhausted, pathetic puppy of a man, with soulful brown eyes, and the voice of an angel, ended up in your twin bed on Christmas Eve.

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[rosepompadour]

"Darling, I don't wake up 'til the afternoon." - Rita Hayworth, 1974

[dimepicture]

[xxliliana-screamsxx]

SALLY FACE HCs #2🎭

FEM! READER

(Author note: I'm feeling a lil sad n lonely so I'ma make something fluffy 🥹 I'm one sad MF I swear 😭💀) also these headcanons only include Larry and sal, I would include Ashley but I suck at writing F/F relationship HCs😭 quite shocking coming from the pansexual gal ik. Plz don't hate me if these HCs are choppy I can't write worth shit plus it's 1 in the morning and I'm tired as hell but I don't wanna disappoint you all 🥲 ANYWAYS ENJOY ❣️

(headcanon description: This is more of how they would react to you being distant from them and insecure about yourself)

Sal Fisher🎭

He's used to your normal bubbly personality and kind heart but he noticed something different..

He won't stop asking what's wrong bc he's afraid that he may be the cause of your distance (same 🥲)

Ofc since you're not talking to him he'll give random gifts left n right to apologize for whatever he did even if he didn't do anything to you🥹

Eventually when you tell him why you're being distant he immediately comforts you and does everything in his own power to make you feel better ❤️

He was a tad bit upset that you didn't tell him what was wrong sooner but he can't stay upset when it comes to you 💕

Though you may think you're ugly and imperfect he thinks otherwise

"I don't understand, how could you love someone like me? You said while looking in the mirror observing your body. "What do you mean? What's not to love about you". "Well for one, my thighs are too big, I have a belly pudge, and my acne scars are ugly" you say in disgust of yourself. "Hey, no matter what, I will always love you and besides who cares about your belly pudge? The bigger the woman the more woman to love ❤️"

He absolutely adores you and shows it whether it's through gifts or physical contact 💕

If you have Belly chub Oh my lord he's head over heels and will make sure you know it 🥰

He will love you til all those insecurities and negative thoughts are gone❤️

(if you ever came across those memes that say "fuck it, wrap me in a blanket, feed me cake and tell me I'm pretty" he'd most definitely do exactly that😚)

Larry Johnson 🚬

This man almost IMMEDIATELY catches on with your distance between you and him

He'll sit you down and talk to you and ask what's wrong and when you reply he'll hug you and hold on to you like you're gonna turn to dust if he doesn't lol

He understands your insecurities and will do everything he can to help you get into a better mindset 💕

He doesn't like seeing you upset so ofc the constant love and affection is a normal routine for him, he'll do anything to keep you happy 🥹❤️(I'm sobbing rn)

As much as you hate your body, he loves it. And I don't mean in a sexual way but more of a loving way ya know?

He hates seeing you cry, he'll hold you and for hours maybe even days if he has to, just to get you smiling again 💕

(ya know those long ass love letters you see on TikTok, he'd take the time out of his day to make you one of those❤️)

I'm truly sorry to whoever requested this 😭 I forgot their @ but hopefully they see it 😭🙏 also sorry for the crappy writing 😞

[beababoobies]

I don't know if you're still taking requests, but if you are, could I request a Sal x reader where the reader has really long curly hair. Like down to her waist long, and they do little stuff like braiding her hair and decorating it with accessories. Just cute little stuff like that as Sal kinda wonders how she manages that much hair (If you dont want to write it, it's okay and have a nice day 💗🫶)

hello lovely gal! I’d love to do that for you. I am still taking requests and you’re welcome to do multiple! As a long curly haired girly meself, this was fun to write. (Unrelated, but I love your username.) Enjoy!

Roots - Sal Fisher x Fem!Reader

words: 0.6k

Sal loved your hair. Loved was perhaps an understatement. He’d play with it when you were cuddling, running his fingers through it mindlessly as you ranted about your day, school or work. He loved helping you wash it when you showered together, scrubbing your hair products from the roots into the very ends. But his absolute favourite was when you let him have fun with it, style it.

After you let him braid it for the first time, he had practically become obsessed. You brought your accessory collection over to his place whenever you were around, and would sit there talking and giggling together for hours while he did your hair up nice and pretty. You would sit in front of the TV, watching your favourite shows on rerun mindlessly and let him play with your hair.

And that’s exactly where you were today; sitting on his bed while petting a very sleepy Gizmo in your lap, belly up and purring softly at you while Sal worked on your hair, humming softly along with the music you had put on in the background. Today he had gone with two long braids, and he was spending his time clipping all your little plastic butterflies and flowers into them.

“You almost done, love?” You asked as you pet Gizmo across his tummy, another low grumbling purr emanating deep from the felines throat. Sal gave a soft hum in response, and you felt him begin to pin up the braids to your head. “Gonna make me look real pretty, hmm?” And he responds with a simple “mhm.” Gizmo gives a protesting mew when you stop petting him for a couple seconds. “Sorry.” You half-whisper with a small giggle, going back to petting him.

“How do you even manage with all this hair?” he asks softly as he starts pining up the second braid to your scalp, and you just shrug, going to scratch Gizmos chin, one hand going back to feel how he had styled your hair, running your hands along the skillfully pinned up braids. “I have this handsome man who comes in and makes it look pretty.” You hum back teasingly, and Gizmo yawns, stretching out before rolling over and landing on the floor, walking out the door to the living room

“Mm, he sounds cool. I’ll have to meet him some day.” He teases back, using your biggest butter cult clip to clip the braids together at the back of your head, leaning back and admiring his work with a smile. “It’s done, my love.” He hums out quietly, turning you over by your shoulders to the mirror. You were in absolutely awe.

He has smoothed out your curls on the top of your head, going in and braiding your hair tightly on both sides pining it up in beautiful swirls that met at the back of your head, all put together with your baby blue butterfly clips. You smiled wide and leaned back, kissing him as a small thank you.

“Thank you love, I look absolutely stunning.” You Mutter quietly, bringing your hand up to carefully run over the beautiful way your hair had been shaped. He wrapped his arms around your waist from the back, nuzzling his head in your shoulder appreciatively, before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Beautiful hair for my beautiful girl.” He hummed softly before sighing contently, carefully kissing the top of your head, before looking back at your hair accessories, before looking back at you with a small smile on his face. “Is it too much to ask you to take it out already? I have more ideas.”

[whaleofatjme1920]

What would the sallyface gang think of a plus sized s/o (like me :> ) I wanna see some rep and fluffy stuffs

The Gang with a Plus Sized SO

[GN!Reader]

[Warnings: Like, none?]

[AN: Sure thing love bug. I also ended up only doing the main three! <3]

Sal Fisher

He's quite the supporter! I feel like Sal is much more emotionally aware of other people's wants and needs because of his own face, so he's very in tune with you.

He loves you so, so much. Supports you whenever things get rough, emotionally speaking. You're allowed to be upset but he won't allow you to speak down about yourself.

Gods he loves to cuddle with you. Wants to hold you in his arms and caress every part of you. Especially likes it when you spoon and he's the big spoon. You can also lay your head on his stomach and he m e l t s.

Kisses everywhere! Every inch of you is so loved and adored by him. I can see you becoming his muse - always has to take photos of you, make art of you.

Larry Johnson

he's such a thigh guy. Look me in my multiple eyes and try to tell me otherwise. Just try. You can't do it, can you? He's ALWAYS going to be holding your thighs.

Will absolutely destroy someone for even thinking to bad mouth you. Won't allow it. You're a deity in his head. Larry doesn't tolerate disrespect period point blank.

Just a bit of a pervert. Won't elaborate, just know he's really, really into you.

Of course, that's not to say he doesn't love your personality but yeah, Larry prefers an SO like you. I think he likes it when you two snuggle when it's cold, or when he wraps his arms around, just the feeling of holding you grounds him.

Ash Campbell

I think she's crazy over how soft you are. Thinks you're adorable, sexy and beautiful all in one, and can't get enough of you.

She's also a thigh gal and tends to settle between your legs. Loves how strong you are, how warm, the plush feeing as she rests between them.

She's really big on covering you with her lipstick! Everywhere!! Your neck, your chest, arms, your stomach, your legs, you need to be covered in her lipstick kisses. She's got the most adoring eyes when she does so.

No insecure SO. She loves you SO SO MUCH, validates you, thinks you are the ultimate vision of beauty and your body, who you are, that's exactly why. No part of you ever needs to change unless you want to. She adores you.

[cha1cedony]

I think part of the reason Gothcleats has literally like consumed my mind since becoming canon is because I think about the Wilsons in the context of marriage/romantic relationships SO much?? Like. Being aro, I normally don’t like analyzing characters through the lens of romance and how they function with crushes or in relationships… It’s just not that interesting to me, and I don’t like basing a character’s personality or worth on their romantic (or sexual) dynamics with other characters. BUT THE WILSONS? OH BOY.

Ramble under the cut bc this got way too long

ALSO!!! Warning for discussions of sex! Not very in-depth. (It’s mostly just about Grant and Marco hooking up on the Titanic lol)

Anyway!

So so so much of the Wilsons’ identities in canon (and also to an even further extent in my fics/headcanons/mind hehe) are based on their marriages and immediate nuclear families. For Darryl, his entire life WAS his family. As far as we know, the same was the case for Frank, and even Robert Wilson was pretty much always talking about his gal Sal iirc. Like obviously bc this podcast is about family, BUT as your resident Wilsons expert (lmao), I want to put forth that the Wilsons in particular are about marriage!

I think the best example of this, actually, is in S2 when (on the night before Grant’s WEDDING), Darryl is talking to Grant about marriage and says that he and Grant both know that Carol and Marco respectively are too good for them. Which like. is also one of the most loaded and important statements to me in this whole goddamned podcast (and probably THE most important for the Wilsons) for many reasons. but I digress lolol

For Darryl and Grant both, there’s a perceived power imbalance in their marriages: not in an abusive way or anything, but rather as like… a measure of self-worth? For better or worse, their self-esteem and sense of self-worth are dependent on the people close to them, especially their romantic partners.

Darryl is constantly comparing himself to his father (as is Grant), but not just as a father—as a husband, too. Darryl tells Frank that he wishes he had the kind of relationship with Carol that Frank had with Darryl’s mom (which is. doubly ironic and sad bc Darryl’s mom was cheating on Frank, and he almost cheated on her, too. but I digress again oops)

But he compares himself to Carol, too, thinking she’s smarter and ‘better’ than him, and Grant especially compares himself a LOT to Marco, saying that Lincoln would be better off with Marco as a single dad and that Marco is ‘better’ than him in general. I find this extra interesting bc Frank does NOT do the same with Darryl’s mom; in fact, he (albeit light-heartedly) says she’s worse than him for having cheated—I don’t have transcripts in front of me, but something along the lines of “If you think that’s bad…”

And that’s why I think the best (and honestly only) way to really examine the Wilsons as characters/people is through the lens of their marriages.

So much of Darryl’s character especially is based solely on Carol. He’s been with her since she was 13-14 and he was 14-15, and so much of his personality and life is entirely formed around her. She’s his best friend. When he gets the idea that she might be cheating on him, or dead (as a mummy), he loses himself because, like. What else is he if not Carol’s best friend, her husband, the father of her son? Almost any time Darryl has any character development (that isn’t related to his dad or son), it’s about his romantic and sexual relationships and feelings: with Carol, with Sweet Matilda, with the fucking sex pit! Lmao

And he and Carol NOT divorcing after S1 is honestly the only thing that makes sense to me; what else would he do? Even if they never manage to fix it all, what else does he have? (The answer is all of his family and newfound friends, but he can’t see it that way; his self-worth centers around HER, remember; she’s BETTER than him.) So they stay together, and he dies believing she still loves him and will be happy to be unchangingly domestic him with him all over again in heaven, whether it’s true or not. Until then, he lives with a facade of her and their son (btw the fake personal heaven Grant is a kid, so Darryl is presumably reliving his life before the events of S1 without changing anything which… is sad for a whole other set of reasons) because Darryl can’t be alone; what is he alone? ALSO. Okay actually no. I won’t get on my aromantic Darryl soapbox right now, but….. expect it at a later date lol. This part got kinda rambly/headcanon-y oops.

A lot of Grant’s character is ABOUT his romantic feelings/relationships; he’s pretty much inextricable from them. His crush on Yeet was originally his whole character (aside from aloof gamer kid lol): Shy, easily embarrassed, extremely obvious about his crush, trying to impress this cute and cool guy. And then, by the time of the Supper Bowl arc, after the chimera and everything else, he becomes more complex, of course, but those feelings are still at the center of everything—because they’re his escape.

He tells Yeet the TWO things that make him feel alive are violence (whether done TO him or BY him) and his crush on Yeet. Grant’s romantic feelings become linked and equated with violence and rage (which. makes me feel crazy btw but anyway. Sorry I love Grant beyond words) and are the only temporary cures for his dissociation.

So when Grant is an adult, of course he relies on romance and sex like a crutch; it makes him feel safe and real, and it’s an intersection of love and violence that makes him feel at peace.

I know it’s a funny moment, but this always makes me think of him and Marco hooking up on the Titanic: Grant believes wholeheartedly that they are both going to die and that there’s nothing he can do about it (or maybe he just doesn’t even want to try to save them). When Marco finds out what’s happening and sort of scolds Grant for it, Grant is embarrassed and says it’s because he’s just “having so many feelings” (probably not exact words), which is also interesting because that’s pretty much the opposite of his original problem of dissociating.

But, between being overwhelmed and dissociative, at its core, the same root feeling is there: hopelessness and helplessness. Also, in his second conversation with Lincoln is S2, Grant says that violence and killing help with his self-worth, also (which ties back to what I said earlier about the connection between the Wilsons’ self-worth and their marriages). When Grant kills someone, all of his doubts disappear and “it all goes white.” If we’re looking at this through the lens that Grant equates violence and love/sex, it must give him that same feeling of… blissful ignorance? Emptiness.

This leads me to believe Grant copes with feelings of hopelessness and self-doubt not just through killing, but through romance and sex, too—like we see on the Titanic (lol)

There’s a lot more speculation I could do about both Darryl and Grant (and Frank, and even all their spouses), but I’m trying to leave it to at least canon-adjacent stuff. Anyway, let me finally circle this all back around to Lincoln lol…

It’s clear that Lincoln thinks romantic relationships are very important. He thinks marriage is beautiful (and, based on his dads’ marriage, that all marriages are good and happy lol—which is especially funny/interesting to me when you consider the several times it’s been said that something Lincoln did/does is the only thing holding their marriage together, and he’s the whole reason Grant didn’t call off the wedding in the first place). His dads have spent a lot of time educating him about love and sex and personal choice in both of those categories, which he references a few times, but, despite their emphasis on personal choice and not raising him Catholic but encouraging him to believe whatever he wants, Lincoln, at 16, is SURE that he will get married someday (and probably young, since he said to Normal that a few years is a long time to wait lol). The Wilsons’ generational insistence on marriage, romantic relationships, and nuclear families persists regardless of Catholicism, it seems :’)

Lincoln’s marriage to Chris in the simulation was also clearly really important to him—and to Chris, too, since they asked him never to remarry. I know the cast joked about this, but it does make me a little sad that Lincoln’s relationship with Chris seemed to be a lot like Darryl’s with Carol! Granted, we only know a like two things about Chris lol… also, I LIKE Chris and Carol! A lot! No hate to either of them <3 but also, that doesn’t mean those relationships aren’t strained, you know?

Anyway! A lot of Lincoln’s character can of course be attributed to his dads’ marriage, like I said before, but his marriage in the simulation was pretty big, too. Although he doesn’t talk about it a lot, it must have matured him, at least on the inside. He later references the job he had in the simulation, as well as being a dad. When he marries the other teens in space, he still thinks of Chris and what they would think. Once again, like Darryl and Grant, a lot of Lincoln’s decisions and beliefs are tied to his spouse—even if they’re not there or were never even real to begin with. Even once he’s married to the other teens, he takes it VERY seriously with pet names and domesticities.

All of this to say, it makes me wonder about his marriage to Scary in relation to his characterization as an adult! I’m not speculating that their relationship is bad or anything; I don’t want it to be and in fact VERY MUCH hope they’ve broken cycles. I just wonder how it affects him as a character (and Scary, too, of course)!

I was really excited when Gothcleats became canon not just because I shipped them, but mostly because I think the Wilsons are most interesting when looked at through their marriages. Lincoln has always put a really strong emphasis on marriage, and all of his pet names and PDA with Scary in the S2 epilogue confirmed to me that they take after the previous Wilson generations in GOOD ways, which makes me really happy.

I guess the main question I’m getting at is about how Lincoln perceives himself in this relationship. In the years soon after the end of S2, does he still feel that same emptiness and feeling of “not caring”? Does he try to cure it in the same way as his father, making “it all go white” with violence or sex or getting someone else to hold him together, or his grandfather, suppressing his depression and trying to will it away with love and close/‘happy’ romantic relationships? Does he find any of those things in Scary? Does he see himself as her equal, or does he feel inferior, like she’s smarter or more capable or ‘better’ than him? He did say multiple times in S2 that she’s the leader, she’s the one who knows what she’s doing, and he just wants to follow along because he doesn’t care anymore.

I hope not. I hope Lincoln and Scary are really happy together. I hope their self-worth is not determined by their partner. I guess that’s all this ramble is :’)

OKAY WHEW. I’m done. That was fun :D

Thanks for subjecting yourself to my ramblings omfg… please send me all of your Wilsons thoughts always. I’ve been wanting to write a long thing about this FOREVER… The aro Darryl fic(s) will come eventually. Also one about Grant coping (badly lol) with sex, which has been in the works forever bc I am bad at NSFW. But it’s fun. Uhhh I guess that’s all?

OH ALSO. If you want to read more of my post-canon Gothcleats thoughts, I published a 15k fic the other day about Jerry being their foster kid! Here you go :3

Hit the Ground Running - chalcedony

(It’s very fluffy and sweet—which is rare for me, but I promise I’m not lying! It’s silly and fun. And I do not speculate too much about Lincoln’s inner turmoil, I pinky promise)

If you read this all. Um…. Sorry? LMAO. Here is a gold star for you ⭐️

[maudeboggins]

rita hayworth in my gal sal