#only drew this because im procrastinating on my homework

[bug-hearted]

stan uses the 8-ball to make decisions while adventuring with ford. it annoys ford to no end

(he doesn't understand why stan's so attached to it and stan's never gonna tell him)

[sunsetsinhoenn]

hiii I was wondering how Sal’s S/O would react to seeing his face under his mask for the first time?

thank you for sending something in for sally face *_* im nervous that his might not be that good, but I hope everyone likes it. 

if you are reading this on mobile, I am SO sorry… I usually edit any bunching of words on my phone so it’s easier to read, but the app won’t even let me do that anymore. if anyone knows how to stop tumblr from screwing with my posts… please tell me…. or i’ll… cry

Sal Fisher _ “expressions”

Ever since the two of you had begun dating, you realized that Sal was trying his best to make sure you both had enough time spent alone together. You both loved the rest of your friends, but you also loved each other a lot and the exclusivity of your relationship required time for the both of you to catch up together. Since you and Sal were just high school students barely going into your senior year, this time together usually took its place in the form of homework sessions or dates, but every so often there would come a time when no one else but you and Sal had any free time.

You loved these times.

“I get that your ghost friend is up here and all, but what enticed you to check the fifth floor out in the first place?” You said, slowly walking around and scoping out apartment 504. “It feels like if I accidentally get poked by whatever’s in here, I’ll get… rabies… or something.”

You heard your boyfriend chuckle where he stood by the bathroom patiently, watching you check things out.

“Well, I don’t touch anything I shouldn’t, that’s for sure. Although,” You turned your head quickly towards him, giving him a disbelieving look before he could even finish his sentence. “If I do find something interesting, I’ll take it. Random stuff pops up often up, here.”

You began walking towards him, content with your brief look-around, still eyeing him somewhat incredulously.

“That’s weird. Please tell me you carry around a little bottle of sanitizer in your pocket?”

You saw the bottoms of his eyes raise up behind his prosthetic, giving you the impression that he was smiling, but other than that he seemed rather straight-faced.

“I don’t! Are you ready to meet Megan?”

You shrugged, sighing a little.

“I suppose. You said she’s shy, though. What if she doesn’t want to meet me?” Still facing you, his hand went behind his back to land on the doorknob and turn it open.

“I’m hoping that she’ll sense how sweet you are and come out anyways. You’re cute too, so she won’t feel scared, either.” You blushed and he laughed again, walking backwards into the bathroom. With your mouth twisted into an embarrassed, tiny frown, you felt the tips of your ears turn red as well. Your boyfriend was sweet, but he really liked to lay the compliments on thick.

Following him inside, he closed the door behind the two of you and started speaking out. With the dim light of the bathroom and the fact that Sal was trying to summon a ghost, which you were pretty sure didn’t exist, you felt your nerves working up. It was just… so creepy and dirty in the bathroom and the only thing that kept your mind from running rampant was the sight of Sal right in front of you. If it weren’t for the calming image of his familiar prosthetic and blue hair, you would have bounced out already.

“Megan… are you sure you don’t want to come out? Y/N is really nice, they won’t hurt you or anything.” He turned towards you. “Do you want to say hi, to see if she might come out?”

“Um…” You fiddled with your hands, a little nervous. “H-hey, Megan. I’m Y/N… I won’t bite or anything. I-in fact, I don’t think I can, haha…”

…You were met with nothing but silence. Sal tried calling out once more as a last try to get her to come out, but received no response again. Part of you felt a little hurt for not being okay enough for Megan to come out for, but the other part was relieved, just a bit. Maybe Megan was able to sense that part of you that wasn’t ready to see her… Or maybe she didn’t. You didn’t really know.

You looked at Sal, who had been staring at you.

“She might be tired. Maybe you can meet her some other day.” You nodded, taking his hand and leading him out, rushing him a bit.

“As long as you’re with me. This place is creepy without the ghosts.” You took a few steps out of the bathroom and down the apartment to the exit.

“I don’t really like the idea of you coming up here without me, anyways. There hasn’t been any demons for a while, but this place can be dangero-“

With a shriek, you halted your steps and squished yourself against sal, frightened by the man sitting in the room. He looked like your average homeless man, but with darkness surrounding his eyes. You could tell that he wasn’t okay nor was he normal due to his subtle transparency and his crazed rocking back and forth.

“You need to leave.”

“W-what?!”

“There will be-“ It sounded as if his voice was echoed and distant, like from another world. You tried to take a step back, but ended up tripping over Sal and you both ended up falling backwards from the imbalance. Frantically, you panicked and got up, ignoring the man that had appeared suddenly in the apartments.

“Sal?! I’m sorry, are you okay?” He grunted a bit and said he was fine, but you could see that his eyes were closed and that he was trying to wipe something off. You noticed that there were dirt particles and other miscellaneous… unsanitary stuff on the ground, so you both got yourself back on your feet quickly and you pushed him out of the apartment as fast as you could.

“Come on, Sal! Let’s get to your apartment to take care of that.” Nodding, he followed you into the elevator and down to the floor below. The trip was quick, but you also noted the fact that his prosthetic had been moved on his face a little bit, revealing more of his left side and less of his right. You could see a scar popping out.

Once inside of his apartment, you guided him to his bathroom and made him sit on the toilet, so you could grab a rag and wet it.

“No, Y/N, I’m fine. You don’t have to help me. Really, I can take care of it.”

“But if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be having issues right now. I’m the clumsy idiot, please let me help you. Close your eyes.” He did as he was told and closed them hesitantly. As you kneeled in front of him, he leaned towards you, so you could clean it better. “I am… having a hard time cleaning this, though. Do you still feel dirt and stuff in your eyes?”

He nodded.

“I- yeah… I think some dirt might’ve gotten underneath too, though I’m not sure how that happened.” You continued dabbing at his eyes,trying to make sure that he wouldn’t get an eye infection because of your dumb actions.

“Well, your prosthetic did get turned a little.”

“It did?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

Sitting in silence for a few moments, he listened to you breathe as you worked. He had been thinking about this moment for a long time, shortly after the two of you had started dating. But no matter what scenario he had imagined in his head, it would always turn out bad. You would see his face, give a look of horror or disgust… and then run away.

No matter how kind he knew you were, no matter how sweet or open-minded you were, he could not foresee a good outcome to him removing his prosthetic, so showing you was something he had always procrastinated on. He knew that in order to be with you in the future, as more than just a high school couple, you would have to see him eventually, but it… scared him. A lot.

With a shaky hand, he gripped your wrist, silently telling you to stop. Slowly, you watched as he began removing the straps on the back of his head, and as your heart began speeding up for the second time that day, you watched with wide eyes as you saw his face for the first time.

His face was littered in scars, both small and big. You could see that the worst area was on the right side of his face, which was practically mauled. There was dirt on his face from the tumble you both took in apartment 504, but what drew your attention was his… expression. Part of his eyebrow was missing on the right side, but you could tell that he looked incredibly worried and scared and… that he was watching with bated breath on what you would do next. He was staring right in your eyes, wondering and waiting.

For some reason, you felt tears well up, and carefully you began cleaning his face again, having a much easier time without the prosthetic.

With a wide smile and a soft laugh, you spoke, a couple tears spilling down.

“Wow… you have dirt everywhere.” You quickly dabbed it away. “And… y’know, I’m really happy because now I finally get to say this with absolute confidence. I mean, I was able to say it before, but now that I’ve seen your face you are legally obligated to believe me when I say it.”

“Huh?” He looked at you, a little skeptical, but still worried. This was not a scenario that he foresaw. What are you saying? After setting the rag aside, you looked straight back into his face, your smile somehow growing wider.

“You are, without a doubt, the cutest boy I’ve ever met.” Your hands went up to cup his face. “I never really thought about it before because… the Sal I had always known was the Sal with the ‘mask’, but I can’t even begin to explain why I’m so happy to see you like this.”

He rolled his eyes, turning away from you.

“You don’t have to sugarcoat this, Y/N. I’m not cute. Don’t lie to me.” You frowned, turning his face back towards you. You would not accept him talking himself down like that.

“Sal, I am not a liar. I’m one hundred percent telling you the truth.” You raised an eyebrow, your demeanor becoming somewhat playful. “You’re my boyfriend and you are just. That. Handsome. I feel like giving you… a thousand kisses right now. Maybe even… a million.”

You laughed mischievously when you saw his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. You were glad he was pale, because it was easy to see. It was difficult to notice on the side that was heavily scarred, but you could from looking at the left side.

“Are you blushing, Sal? Is what I’m saying embarrassing?” You reached up and gave him a loud kiss on the forehead. “I’m sorry! I can’t help it!”

You heard him laugh and you glanced at him to see him smile at you. You could practically feel the arrow pierce your heart. You laughed as well, deliriously happy.

“I never really realized how much I wanted to see you smile. Thank you for showing me, Sal.” He gave you a deep kiss, tears falling down his cheeks.

“No, thank you.”

[jasperrollswrites]

Barracuda Street

Another story from quite a while back, and better than the previous story in my opinion. It was originally going to be a 10-part story in which a young man became progressively more monstrous with each cigar he smoked - the plan I wrote down at the time would’ve had it going some really weird places. But, my procrastination got the better of me, and I never wrote the follow up chapters, so this is all there is. A writer I admire and took quite a bit of inspiration from recently complimented it, so it must still be kind of good.

Jeremiah’s mother always told him to never go down Barracuda street, and for 19 years, Jeremiah obeyed. And then one day, he disobeyed...and everything changed.

———————

I used to be a nice kid. You wouldn't believe it, lookin' at me now, but when I was a young'un, I was a little angel. I did my homework, finished my chores, went to church, and always listened to what my momma said. And one of the things she always said was that I should never go anywhere near Barracuda Street. Even though it was the quickest way back home, my momma always told me never to go through there, no matter the situation. Even if I was late home, even if there was somethin' I REALLY needed to tell her, never ever go through Barracuda Street.

Once, as she was puttin' me to bed, I bothered to ask her why. I don't know what it was. She'd always kept me on a tight leash, but something about her almost constant lectures about me never goin' near that place must have...ah...how do you say it? "Piqued my intellectual curiosity"...or what little of it I had. I'd never questioned her like that before, and when I did...boy, she wasn't at all sure how to react. I'd always just been a good boy, taken everything she said at first glance. So she took a deep breath, and turned to me.

"No, momma."

"Well, you did. And he was a good boy, just like you. He always did his homework, finished all his chores, went to church, and he listened to me." She gave a wistful sigh, remembering this brother I never knew I had. "But I never told him not to go near Barracuda Street."

"Why, momma?" I asked.

"Because, back then, I didn't know how dangerous Barracuda Street was. And one day, he decided to take go through it. I'd never told him not to. It wasn't against the rules. And that was when I lost him."

"You lost him?"

Momma nodded solemnly. "Some men, some bad men, they came to him, and they seemed nice enough. But they started fillin' his head with all these bad ideas. Fillin' him with sin. He started to disobey. He became a bad kid. I lost him. One day, he went to Barracuda Street, and he never came back."

Well, I was shakin' in my jammies by this point. As far as I was concerned, Barracuda Street was hell itself. "He never came back?" I whispered.

"I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since then." Momma told me. "That was 14 years ago. And when I had you, Jeremiah, I swore that I'd never let the same thing happen to you. So that's why you don't go near Barracuda Street. Okay?"

"Yes, momma." I whispered.

I was only 8 years old, then. But in time, I grew up. I got older, I learnt more, but I was always devoted to my momma. And I always remembered that story whenever I saw Barracuda Street. Over time, I began to believe that it was made up, that I'd never had a brother, that it was just somethin' she said to spook me, but I got why. It was a scary place, full o' dem gangster types. If I'd gone through there when I was just a little innocent boy, I would've gone exactly the same way as that imaginary brother o' mine.

I grew up, takin' after my pop. He was a short fella, and so was my momma, so I was sorta average too. Just a neat little 5 foot 3. I always kept my muddy brown hair straight and well kept, and I always dressed as smart as I could for my work. It was a little laborious, so just a white shirt and some grey shorts were good enough. I kept myself clean as I could.

And then I turned 19. It was my birthday, but I was still just as dumb and blindly trusting of my momma's word than ever. I'd spent a night out with summa my work friends, goin' to a swing party, but I left early. I wanted to be home with momma before 11. They'd made fun of me, callin' me momma's boy, and they were right. I was a momma's boy, but I was happy to be one. I made my way through the dark streets. The city was a different place at night, and I didn't want to be out too long. I'd been walkin' for some time, when I finally got to the corner of Barracuda Street. I checked my watch. It was 11:50.

The route I usually took would get me home in half an hour. But if I went down that street, I could be home in just 10. I was sure momma would understand. I could just take a quick run through the place and be gone. Besides, I was a grown man. I was sure I could handle myself.

Boy...I was wrong.

I was walking down, about halfway when I heard a little "Psst." come from an alley on my right. Immediately, I sped up.

"Hey. Hey, where ya goin'?" A voice like slick oil came from behind me. I turned. There was a short fella with jet black hair, wearing a sharp white suit, grinnin' at me.

"N-Nowhere, sir." I stammered. "I just want to get home, thank you." I turned away, and walked right into another guy. Someone a good, 3, 4 inches taller than me was standin' in front of me, dressed to the nines in an all black, suit, the polar opposite of his friend behind me. I tried to back away, but he grabbed my shoulder with a big hand.

"Hey, kid. You should watch where you're walkin'." A low growl rumbled from the big guy.

"Hey, hey, hey, he's okay." The grinning guy behind me walked over and put a hand on the big fella. "Don't scare him off. We don't want him thinking this is a bad place, do we?"

"Yeah, I guess not. But you better watch it." He said to me, letting go. I took my chance and began to continue on my way home.

"Hey, kid, where ya goin? Sit a while, why don't ya?" The white suited fella ran up behind me, putting a casual hand on my shoulder.

"I, I'm just heading home from a party. I'd rather be back before 11, thank you." I blurted out, trying to just get away as quick as I could.

"A party? What party? Why'd you leave so early?" The guy said. He seemed genuinely interested.

"Oh...uh...it's, just my 19th birthday. Nothing special." I replied.

The big guy spoke up in his low grumble of a voice. "It's ya birthday? Why didn't ya say so? We should treat ya."

"Yeah," his friend agreed. "Get 'im one o' them cigars, Benny. The special ones." 'Benny' nodded, turning away and going down an alley.

"I...I don't smoke." I said, nervously.

"Well, then you're not livin'!" the smooth talker said, as he guided me onto the steps outside someone's house, and sat me down. "Cigars are one o' this world's finest pleasures. You'll love it, trust me." He sat down next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder, like we'd been best friends for life. "What's ya name?"

"J...Jeremiah. Jeremiah Fitz."

"Jeremy, eh? That's an okay name."

"Jeremiah."

"I'm Finn. The big guy is Benny. Speak of the devil." I looked up. Benny was there, with a box in hand. It was really fancy lookin', like something you'd keep a special treasure in. He opened the lid, revealing ten cigars, perfectly slotted in the box. Finn picked one out, and Benny closed the box, sittin' next to me as Finn cut the tip off the end of the cigar with a switchblade he'd pulled from his jacket pocket, and held it towards me

"I...I really don't smoke." I whispered.

"Then no better time like the present, Jerry." Finn announced, sticking it in my open mouth. It was bigger than I could've guessed, feeling bizarre in my mouth.

"M..My name is Jer...Jeremiah." I struggled to get the words out around the cigar. I wanted to spit it out, but I was scared Benny would take it a very wrong way. I heard the sound of a match catching light, and looked at Finn, to see him lighting the end of the cigar.

"Now, what you do, Jerry, is you breath in, and let it get in ya mouth. Since this is ya first time, try not to do it too much." Benny started. "Just breath in a little bit, and then breathe out. If ya want, you can breathe out through ya nose. You get a better taste, that way."

I slowly put my fingers around the cigar, and drew in a tiny breath...and instantly, I took the cigar out, coughin' and hackin'. It tasted like shit, to me.

"Hey, you ain't gonna get no taste coughin' it out." Benny said.

"I..." I spluttered, coughing again. "I don't think I'm going to like the taste, Mr. Benny."

"Nonsense." Finn cut in. "Sure, it tastes like shit now, but it's like...ah...what's the name of that...that food everyone hates at first but then they love it? I think it's a cheese or somethin'."

"Gorgonzola?" Benny asked.

"Yeah. That's the one. Gorgonzola. Right now, you hate it, but by the time you got to the end of this one, you'll be clamourin' for more. Go on, take another drag."

I stared at the cigar, afraid. I hated it. It made me wanna cough my lungs out. And yet somethin'...somethin' was tellin' me I should just give it another try. At least finish this one. I never had to have another one if I didn't want to. So I raised it to my lips again, and began breathing in again. It was only a little bit, and it made me want to cough, but I tried to hold it in. What I didn't realise was that this cigar was changin' more than my tolerance.

I had still been wearin' my shoes from work. They used to be smart lookin', but after spendin' a good 2 years walking around in the dirt, they'd gotten all scuffed up and dirty. But as I'd taken that second drag, something began changin'. The dirt and grime they'd built up started to fade away, like it had never been there. The shape o' them began changin' too. Before, they'd been slip-ons, loafers, but now they were takin' on a new style. Shoelaces grew outta them, like vines on a brick wall, tying themselves into a neat knot. They took on a perfect shine, like I'd polished them every single day, my whole life, and as I breathed out that breath of cigar smoke, my loafers had turned into venetians.

I wasn't aware of this at the time, mind you. You generally don't look at yer feet when yer smokin' yer first cigar.

"See, it ain't so bad." Finn said to me. "You're gettin' the hang of it. Take another drag."

"Yeah, man, it's ya birthday." Benny followed up.

I smiled inside a little. They liked me. For some reason, I wanted them to like me. I wasn't at all sure what my momma had been tellin' me before. These guys were just fine. I began to breathe in again, letting the smoke flow into my mouth. It was the same amount as the last couple of times, but now I didn't want to choke. I felt like I could take it, so I let a little more in...and more about me changed.

As I savoured the taste of the smoke on my tounge, my gut began filling out, just a little bit. Where before, I'd been as thin as a stick, I began to gain weight. My thighs began to fill out my shorts, which themselves were changin', just like my shoes. The boyish lookin' shorts began growing down my legs, their rough fibres turnin' into smooth silk, black, designer suit trousers, matching my new venetians. As I breathed out, I grew wider, my shoulders broadening, my thin arms beginning to gain some ever so slight muscle. The rough belt that had once adorned my shorts morphed, becomin' a thinner, smarter lookin kinda belt...and it was slacking up, as my thin stomach began to turn chubby, my thighs and ass began to expand just a little bit, filling out my new digs bit by bit.

"Th...that's...actually..." I stammered...I was beginning to enjoy the cigar, to my own surprise.

"Ya see? I told ya, Jerry, you'd like it by the end."

"I-it's Jeremy." I looked down at myself. I couldn't see that I'd gotten bigger, but I definitely noticed something else.

"H...hey...where are my shorts?"

"Shorts?" Finn asked.

"Y-yeah...I was...wearing shorts..." My head felt cloudy, as if the cigar smoke was blockin' my own memory.

"You sure? Benny replied. "You was wearin' those when we first saw ya."

"W...Was I?"

"Definitely. Does it matter? Yer smokin a cigar."

The cigar. Of course. It was all I could think about at that moment. I raised it to my lips once more, beginning to take a much longer drag, like I had been smoking for a good year or two now. And now that my drags were longer, my changes sped up. A couple of metal rings appeared on the loops in my belt line as I drew in the smoke. Obsessed now with the flavours dancin' on my tongue, I closed my eyes, blind to the straps of leather that sprung forth, sliding up my expanding stomach like snakes. They swooped up, going over my shoulders and down my back, combining into one strap half way down, and ending in another loop at the back of my trousers. The suspenders hugged my belly, which was beginning to fill out the simple white button shirt I was wearing. I began to breathe out, this time through my nose, opening one eye as I saw the smoke billowing out, and my mind exploded, taking in the musty, well aged taste. My biceps began to well and truly bulge. My chest, which had had barely any definition before, was now taking on its own chubbiness. As my belly continued to swell, and my ass began to stretch my trousers, my pecs began to soften up, becoming admirable moobs resting on top of my notable stomach.

As I finished breathing out the smoke, I smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Oh..that...that's good stuff, right there." My innocent, momma's boy, polite voice had begun to fade. I was now speaking in a lower, but louder, more confident rumble of a voice...but I was still stammering away. The cigar blocked my mind to anything else except Finn and Benny's voices, and that delicious smoke, but even the voices were being buried by that all consuming smoke.

"Yeah, see, I told ya, J! You're almost finished. Just one last puff." Finn sounded like he was shouting from the end of a long tunnel. All I could think about was the cigar. One last puff. One last puff. I needed to take it, but a voice in my mind...a dark voice, was tellin' me that it wouldn't be enough.

There were 9 other cigars in that box. I needed to have them all.

I began to take my final, long drag. The smoke began to pour into my mouth, almost filling it up, and as it did, my belly began to truly expand. My moobs and stomach began to strain against my white shirt, pushing the buttons to breaking point, little holes exposing my skin to the air. Outta the shadows themselves, a pure black jacket began to appear around me. Settling around my wide, wide shoulders, the arms sliding over my own bulging biceps. It fit me perfectly, like it had been tailor made for my new girthy self. I could feel myself getting a little taller, my 5 foot 3 growing to 4, 5, 6, 7. I could feel my trousers hugging my groin and ass, as they expanded ever more, my once flat little butt becoming a full on, fat booty.

I took the stub of the cigar from my mouth, being careful not to let any smoke out, and flicked it onto the pavement. I looked down at myself, still holding the smoke in my mouth, and it felt like what had been cloudin' my mind had cleared up. Suddenly, I was aware of all the changes that were happenin' to me. I knew just a few minutes ago I had been a cowardly little squirt, and somehow, this cigar had turned me into a huge, confident, mafioso, not afraid to throw around his own weight. And I knew that the cigars in that box Benny held even more power. I didn't know what they planned to do with those other 9 cigars, but I had to take them all. They were my future, and they were the key to unlockin' the true me that had been kept locked up in that pitiful little shell of a man, by my own, sweet momma.

I breathed out the smoke through my nose, and that was when it really began.

As it billowed out over my face, I could feel my hair beginning to change. My brown hair, slighty messy from the night's party began to change, turning a pure jet black, slicking back, becoming shiny, like a beetle's shell. It began to move towards the back of my head, my entire forehead exposed, as the slick black hair reached down to my shoulders at the back. Like the jacket before it, out of the shadows, a hat formed itself, a black homburg settling onto my head like I'd worn it all my life. And the final change, the one that told me that I had infinitely more potential, began to take root. My teeth had been average chompers, but they didn't fit my new, big self. They began to grow bigger, sharpen, moving around in my mouth, taking on a new form. I clenched them together in a grin, feeling satisfied as they slotted perfectly between each other, into a true, inhuman, shark-like grin.

"Hooh! Dat was a good cigar, boys." I slung my arms around Finn and Benny, like I'd known them forever. "Where'd ya get 'em?"

"They was specially made, J." Benny told me. "Boss commissioned them, like."

"All dat for my birthday? He really does love me." My huge paws, bigger than Benny's now, snatched the box out of his hands.

Finn took on a panicked look. "Oh...uh...well...s-sure. But wouldn't it be better to share them? Y'know, one for everyone?" He stammered. It was like we'd switched places.

"Now, ya know me, Finn. I'm not one for sharin'."

"Uh-" he began, but I wasn't about to let him take away the key to my future. I cut across him.

"Boy, I'm feelin' mighty hungry. The night's still young, fellas. Let's go get some steaks." I stood up, box of cigars in hand, as I started making my way towards a steak house a couple of blocks away. I knew that before the cigar, I hadn't know it was there, but it was like it had given me new knowledge. My girth took up the whole sidewalk, and I boldy stepped in the direction I wanted to go, my mind instantly adjustin' to all the changes.

I glanced down at the box of cigars. There were 9 left, and I intended to use them all before the end of tonight. I didn't know what they'd do to me, or where they'd take me, but I knew that if this was what just one could do, then I was sure to like the others. The little Jeremiah, at the start of this story, that sad, limp sack of a guy was completely gone, and in his place was me, Big J. As Finn and Benny nervously fell into step behind me, I grinned, baring my dangerously sharp fangs for what would definitely not be the last time that night.