“The only time my mother spoke to us was when she was drunk. And she’d tell us we were unwanted. She convinced me to drink with her when I was ten. She told me that it would make me feel better. I started smoking crack when I was twelve. I never learned to read or write. I lost my entire childhood. My friends and I would break into cars, steal whatever we could, and use the money to buy more. It made me feel good and I wanted to feel good all the time. And nobody ever tried to stop me.”
my culture is not to be used for your costume. dia de los muertos isn’t halloween, so stop painting sugar skulls on your face for a costume. stop telling me to calm down when i get angry about you appropriating my culture. “calm down, seb, i have nothing against it”, okay, but you’re offending me, my parents, and my grandma who crawls on her knees every year to the church for day of the dead. i love you, but you need to stop stealing my culture.
What about team nice dynamite playing surgeon simulator on a real person
jeez that gets awfully bloody awfully quickly. It’s definitely one
of their nastier games, which
considering who they are and what they’ve done is really saying
idea is probably born in Caleb’s office. Michael’s grumbling his way
through stitches, reluctantly laughing as Gavin makes a nuisance of
himself while he waits, opening draws, playing with tools, theorising
about what everything does, miming out increasingly disturbing
looking operations until Caleb finally banishes him back to the
waiting chair under the threat of a first-hand demonstration.
the idea is planted and not even a week goes by before Michael and
Gavin decide to rob a hospital, pick up a few tools of their own, and
play doctor. They get everything from scrubs and gloves to speciality
instruments and various medications, alongside a few of their own
concoctions and no small number of personal knives. Their ‘surgery’
is an abandoned warehouse; not even one of Geoff’s, just somewhere
private where no one will notice them making a mess. And boy do they
make a mess.
first involuntary patient
is a very bad man indeed, cruel and nasty and just generally lacking
in heart. So they take his out. Dig around for a bit, surprised by
the effort it takes to get through the ribcage, wondering at the
sheer amount of blood, the various strange bits and pieces they
rummage through, organs they examine then toss to the floor to
continue their quest. Astonishingly the patient does not survive, but
they manage to extract the heart before it stops beating so at the
end of the day they call it a successful endeavour.
the next sorry contestant, who had the misfortune of witnessing
something he shouldn’t have and running his mouth in the wrong
company, there is a very delicate eye surgery, followed by a far less
delicate experimentation to determine which vaguely eye-shaped
objects found laying around the penthouse would make the best replacements.
a dirty cop working for the wrong gang whose night ends with his
brain on the floor, a noisy thorn in Geoff’s side who involuntarily
donates his kidneys to science, a brief foray into dentistry leaves a
crook without their teeth, an arms-dealer who got a bit too touchy
loses an arm, and in a move that’s more petty than anything else, a
wanna-be conman who thought he could manipulate Gavin of all people
gets to accidentally teach them just how quickly a person can bleed out when they’re
missing their tongue.
With all the compassion of
serial-killers, the selfish amusement of egocentric children and the
in-built bravado born from the unwavering support of a best friend
the only end in sight for this awful new game is the inevitable
moment Team Nice Dynamite gets bored and moves on to something else.
rest of the FAHC doesn’t know what they’re up to in their spare time
but have seen enough shared looks and whispered plans to know they’re
doing something, have witnessed more than enough of that particular
brand of nasty delight to know it’s something devastating. Still,
when casual inquiry reveals nothing more than a pair of matching
grins, somewhat secretive and entirely wicked, it’s generally agreed that it’s best to
just sit back and wait for the mayhem to roll in.
is all well and good for a while, but eventually Jeremy and Ryan are
bored enough, curious enough, nosey enough to give up on
patience and track them down. It’s not particularly difficult,
they’re not really hiding, but what has been seen cannot be unseen
and Jeremy, for one, desperately wishes he’d left Ryan to investigate
on his own. Ryan stands in silence, reaction hidden behind his mask
though Jeremy fancies that there’s something upsettingly amused in
the way he surveys what is undoubtably a makeshift surgery, eyes
sharply interested as they flick around the room, to the blood on the
floor, the walls, to the body on the table, the wailing heart-monitor
and an IV bag filled with something oddly glittery.
is feeling slightly less impartial. Maybe it’s just the surprise of
it all; he was expecting another firework bomb, maybe a kidnapped cop
or the makings of an elaborate prank, anything other than the cold,
still, Dexter-like vibe of this particular undertaking. It’s almost
too much, too disturbing, even with everything the FAHC have done,
everything he himself has done. Perhaps it shouldn’t be, maybe it’s
no worse, not really, but in the shock of landing in what looks like
a horror movie torture room Jeremy can’t help but think that this is
something else, that this is terrible.
Gavin tears through, squawking up a storm and holding two eyeballs up
over his head like they’re watching Michael, who’s roaring with
laughter and whirling something pink and fleshy around like a lasso
as he gives chase, and just like that the moment is thoroughly
broken. Ryan snorts, turning on his heel and heading out the way he
came but Jeremy can’t quite make himself leave, can’t even stay
silent, not when Michael slides through something unnamable, wiping
out into a tray of instruments and going down under a bombardment of
misplaces organs like the worlds goriest slapstick routine.
sound has Gavin finally catching sight of Jeremy, eyes widening in
shock before he grins, wild and disastrous as he crows out a
greeting, calling for the illustrious Doctor Dooley to come in and
save him from the heavy-handed fumblings of Doctor Jones, and
honestly at that point there’s really little else Jeremy can do but
start looking around the room for a spare pair of gloves.
Heck so. My sketchbook is full now. Yay! A lot of the art from it is not posted here but I believe that’s fine. Most of it is random doodles like this anyway. Oh!! And!! In the first picture there is a couple Drips doodles. Drips belongs to @bendy-and-the-askblog !! And like I’ve said many times you should go check them out! (If you couldn’t tell I really like their art;-;)
Also, Felix the cat!
This was requested by a lovely anonie, and actually, I want to thank you for all your requests! They’ve really helped me :)
“All I’m saying is; Maybe you should stop flirting with other girls! At least when you’re on a fucking date with your girlfriend!” You yelled, your hands clenched into fists from the fury you were feeling, to your bones. “I wasn’t flirting with you for fucks sake Y/N!” Jimin yelled. You were both in the kitchen, the only light coming from the cooking canopy. You were dressed in a silk black dress, your jewelry hanging loosely on your chest, your earrings swinging back and forth. Jimin, standing only with a couple inches taller than you, dressed in his suit. His face was red and a thin layer of sweat tickling on his forehead. “Oh so you just randomly kiss other girls’ hands? Laugh at every fucking thing that leaves their mouths?” You were out of breath “Fuck you Jimin!” His eyes widened, and he stepped closer to you.
“Say that one more fucking time” His voice was cold as ice. Your mouth was shut, as tears began forming in your eyes. But you wouldn’t let him see you cry. “You’re so full of yourself, Jimin. You shouldn’t flirt with others while you have a girlfriend. Show at least some respect” You shot back, your chest rising and falling in an agile pace. “You’re just so damn clingy!” He raised his voice even more. You saw nothing but fury in his eyes, making a strike of fear run down your spine. “I hate how you completely steal my friends! And how I need to let you meet the person, before I can even think about befriending them! I just really hate you sometimes” You were startled to say the least. You knew that you at times, could get overprotective, but he was out of hand tonight, and you couldn’t be blamed.
Your bottled up emotions, got to the best of you, and your knees gave in under you, your tears falling freely, ruining your mascara and the eyeshadow you’d spent a handful of hours on. But you didn’t care. All you could think of, was his words that kept replaying in your head; “I just really hate you someti-” your cries were louder than your thoughts. “Y/N, please don’t cry” You came back to reality. Jimin’s arms were holding on to your shaking body, his head in the crook of your neck. You felt wetness staining your neck, letting you know that he was crying too. “Don’t cry” He whispered again, rocking you back and forth. “I’m sorry I said that. I was so mean and-” A sob escaped his plump lips, startling the both of you. “I was caught up in the moment. B-baby please don’t” Words were leaving his mouth like a waterfall. “Don’t cry” He repeated. His voice was cracking and hoarse from the crying he’d done.
You shifted in your bed, the sunlight blinding you. Sitting up, you pulled the silk sheets closer to your naked body, feeling slightly colder. You looked down at Jimin, who was beside you. Lips apart with hair falling over his closed eyes, he looked ‘fuckable’. The thought sent a smile to your lips. The smile was replaced with a frown as your mind wandered to the incident, just a few days back. Sure, you and Jimin had made up, but his sour words still haunted your mind. Shaking your head, you decided to push the thoughts away. “Jimin” You whispered. Your head was so close to his, you could hear his breathing. You placed your hands on his chest, the sheets falling down, exposing the top half of your naked body. He groaned, his morning voice making it sound a hundred times better, as his eyes fluttered open. He looked at your face, and then his eyes began traveling down your body. He got up, resting on his elbows, his eyes fixed on your boobs. “Y/N, wha-?” You captured his lips with yours, not wanting to talk, you didn’t need to talk. You held onto his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb, as you deepened the kiss. Jimin pulled away, breathing heavily. His lips were a bright pink and swollen with your love. You smiled at the picture in front of you. Jimin ran his fingers through your hair. “Shouldn’t we get up?” You asked, your voice low and tired. You leaned against his chest, still straddling him, letting him wrap his arms around you. “We should” He chuckled, caressing your back. He patted your butt through the silk fabric and slowly got up, hands on the back of your thighs. “Mhm, Jimin” You closed your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder as he lifted you up and placed you on the end of the bed. He picked his dress shirt, from a couple of days ago, and handed it to you. You placed the shirt next to you on the bed, not wanting to wear any of his clothes anymore. You knew deep down, that it was silly to hold onto stupid words, but they still haunted you. And you didn’t want to seem like that kind of girlfriend.
You quickly took your silk robe from the hook near your closet, and tightened the belt around your waist. “Let’s get some breakfast” You smiled sourly as you walked past Jimin, heading for the kitchen.
“Y/N! Want to come with?” You looked up from the couch. Namjoon was curiously looking at you, from where he was in front of the front door. He was waiting for Jimin to get ready. You guys had planned for you to come with too, but you had declined kindly, saying you weren’t feeling well, when Jungkook asked you for the hundredth time, why you decided not to come with. You had thought a lot about what Jimin had thrown at you, a couple of weeks ago, and you decided that it was for the best, to just not go.
“Bye Y/N!” Jimin yelled after you, as they closed their door, probably running to the car, where the other boys were. There you were alone, for the first time in a while. You couldn’t tell if you were comfortable with the thick silence. You’d been used to being either with Jimin or the other boys for so long, that the silence of the secret loneliness, had become an unfamiliar feeling. “Yah, don’t be stupid” you scolded yourself as your mind wandered the wrong way. “He loves you” You assured yourself, not quite believing your own words.
A door slamming, woke you up from your deep sleep. You placed your phone on the coffee table and sat up, rubbing your eyes. “Hey baby” Jimin said, as he sat down beside you. He was wearing a denim jacket, actually the one you’d bought for him as a birthday gift. “Hey” You said, getting up from the couch to go make some tea. You felt your back aching and tried to lift your shirt up, to massage yourself, but forgot that you were wearing one of your tight shirts today, making the action impossible. You’d been so used to wearing your boyfriend’s clothes, that it had felt like your own. Jimin walked into the kitchen and stood behind you, rubbing your belly through the tight fabric. “I’m going out tonight” He said as he placed a gentle kiss on your neck. “Okay, that’s fine” You simply answered, his voice replaying in your head, over and over. He pulled his arms from around your waist and turned you around. “What?” He asked, a smile playing on his plump lips. “I said okay?” You chuckled, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Oh?” He seemed surprised, searching your eyes for an answer for your obvious strange behaviour. You smiled reassuringly at him before turning around, pretending to be too busy with your tea.
You kissed him bye at about 9 PM, again chuckling at him, pointing out that you were acting strange. You shook your head at the boy as you closed the door in his face, trying to get rid of him before hurrying into the living room. Turning on your TV, you found your favorite drama. It was actually Jimin who got you into watching drama. You would always watch it on saturday nights, or any days when he had a day off. Those were the good times, where there were no fights. No other girls, no jealousy. You’d thought about breaks, or maybe even breaking up, and a while back, you’d shared your thoughts with Jimin, but that didn’t result in anything but tears and pleas for you to stay with him till the day you took your last breath on this World, and even *after* that.
You did love Jimin. With every atom of your body, and every second of your existence you fell even more in love with him. No argument on that point. But sometimes, holding on can cause more pain than letting go. But you were not mentally nor physically prepared to loose Jimin, not now, not ever. And that was crystal clear to you.
“Y/N” Jimin was standing in the door to the living room, looking at you with red eyes and ruffled hair. “Yes?” You asked, standing up. He fell into your arms, which made you fall down on the couch. “Did you have a good time?” You asked, running your fingers through his locks, feeling him relax under your touch. “Y/N” He whispered and lifted his head to look at you. You could now see how red and puffy his eyes were. Had he been crying? “Have you been crying babe?” You asked, a frown forming on your lips. He nodded silently before burying his head in the crook of your neck. “Hey hey, Jimin. What’s going on?” You asked, your voice below a whisper as you rocked back and forth. “I’m just” He gasped for air “So sorry” He wiggled out of your grasp and sat beside you, holding onto your hands. “I’m so sorry for the things I said that night. They haven’t left my mind, and they haven’t left yours either. You talk in your sleep sometimes” He lowered his eyes, not daring to look into your eyes, that were brimming with tears. “But I’m sorry. I was so stupid for saying that shit, a-and *of course* I’ve noticed how you’ve retreated yourself from me *and* the boys. But Y/N please, please, don’t change because of the stupid things I said. They were out of line and not near the truth!” “Breathe Jimin” You said, caressing his cheek as you watched him, struggling to get everything said, like he was trying to escape from something. “I just, I love when you wear my things, I love when you’re overprotective, I love you so much” He finished, his cheeks damp from the crying he’d done. You sniffled and pulled him into your arms. “It’s okay now Jimin” “I forgive you baby boy” You said, meaning it in every bone of your body.