Man, I Should Totally Draw Jimmy The Searcher Now :0

HOLY SHIT-

THIS LOOKS FANTASTIC :O

The angst is crazy man XD

HOW DARE YOU BE SUCH A GOOD ARTIST >:/

LOONIE ANGST HAS A FUCKING CHOKEHOLD ON ME HOW TF DID THIS HAPPEN :|

@unnoticedunawarestillhere and @thelocalmoth THIS IS YOUR FAULT HOW DARE YALL BE SUCH GOOD WRITERS >:( /hj

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Hudson could sense just how worn out Ray was from everything, even glancing at the spilled coffee from above.

"C'mon. Let's get you to the infirmary. There are beds and cots there, so you won't pass out on me. Besides, I don't want your hand getting infected," he said firmly, gently pulling himself away and motioning to the end of the hall.

He waited for Ray to follow, one hand awkwardly clutching his chest, which was still bleeding. "Seriously, Ray. Stop pushing yourself like this. It's not healthy. And keep in mind the fact I can't properly catch you if you fall."

The studio was quiet. There weren’t many people left, most having returned home by now. There was a background noise of groaning pipes and creaking floorboards as Ray walked down the hallway.

He had left his isolate office space in favor of a cup of coffee and some more paper, which somehow the storyboarding department lacked.

He was nearing the elevator, and mulled over whether the risk of the thing was worth not having to use the stairs.

~ @w-graves-nook

The hallway lights buzzed and flickered above. The air smelled stale, but oddly had a copperish tint to it. The floorboards groaned, always causing the worries of breaking.

The friendly posters and cut outs just seemed dull, almost sickening. The cheerfulness just not being what it used to be.

The air suddenly grew cold, like a cool draft coming in, even with no windows being in the premises. The feeling of dread was being tight in the air as it was almost overwhelming.

A loud clang could be heard as an abandoned type writer had been thrown off of a supply crate, causing metal to scatter into parts.

The feeling of being watched was sudden.

And the air was tense.

The little things inside.

I let out a hiss as the tip of my pencil let out.

Snap.

I threw it to the side, the thin object rolling away and falling off my desk. Resting in my almost full trash can.

Serves it right.

My back hurts as I straighten my composure, my chair letting out a creak as I did.

I glance up at all the yellow pieces of paper I and my director stuck on my bulletin board.

Fix Grammar to proper American Grammar.

Talk to Bill and stay overtime to finish the script.

Deadline this MONDAY.

Lawyer up. Full meeting with Thomas Conner, Joey Drew and Trevor Covens (asshole) on January 15th.

Reminder to self: stop stealing Wally's keys. Stop stealing Norman's projector and stop getting into fights (unless you want a mouth full of broken teeth, pal).

I looked at the last one, picking up the note and staring at it. The words at the very bottom are faint and small, but I can make them out:

And stop stealing my heart! <3 Bill

I quickly stuffed that note in my drawer, where Bill's other notes and drawings stayed safe. Safe so I can reread them sometimes.

I glance at the note on my right. In a couple weeks, I'll have to meet up with my boss, the head of Gent...and an ass-hole who expects me to pay up because I broke his nose. Lovely.

I turn off my desk lamp, my typewriter now belonging to the shadows. I stand up and stretch my back, a dull pain shooting up my spine.

Fights will be fights. Broken noses, broken backs...the usual.

I grab my briefcase and jacket, slinging my jacket over my shoulder. Adjusting my grip on my briefcase, I head out of the quiet department. Everyone else has already gone home.

I walk through the halls, passing cheerful posters and hissing pipes above. The lights above hum and flicker, unease churning in my stomach.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I swing my head around, my eyes darting around wildly. My grip on my briefcase is tighter, making my knuckles turn pure white. I stare at the end of the hallway, squinting my eyes.

 No one.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I spin around to the other side of the hallway, but nothing greets me there. Nothing but ridiculous posters, smiling cutouts and the glaring pipes. The tapping, whatever it is, isn't stopping though. It's rhythmic, but somewhat loud. It's loud, but somewhat distant.

I strain my ears, desperate to make sense of where it's coming from.

Tap.

I narrow my eyes before walking over to a wall, pressing an ear.

Tap. Tap.

The sound moves.

It's coming from the walls.

I run after it, shrugging on my jacket and fumbling with my briefcase.

I'm not sure why, but I can't let it run off without me. Whatever it is.

I turn around the corner, almost colliding into a Bendy cutout and smacking right into a pipe. I couldn't care less.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap-!

Suddenly, I hit something, making me fall back to the ground.

I hit the floor, my briefcase landing on the ground with a thud as I glared up at the figure. "Watch it, pal!" I grumbled, already getting my briefcase.

I forgot how easy it was for me to get knocked down.

Weakling.

"Hudson? Whatcha doin' here? Aren't ya supposed to be already gone?" A familiar voice asked.

I straightened my jacket and glanced up, more intently.

Jack.

"Uh, just finishing up a script. Nothing else really."

The sound's getting away...

Jack stares at me, worried probably. He fixes his vest, smoothing out the wrinkles and shifting his hat. "Lemme guess, another dead end?" He asked softly, his eyes gentle and warm.

He pities me.

I cough, trying to clear my throat, "Uh, sort of. I got some notes done..."

Liar. You just threw them in the trash.

I shouldn't feel so agitated. I shouldn't feel annoyed.

It's Jack. Kind, warm and has done nothing, but save my ass.

So why am I getting annoyed?

Jack raises a brow, but I can see he's holding his tongue. He shakes his head instead. "Right....well, I heard about the meetin' in two weeks. Ya ready for that?" He asked, tilting his head.

Two weeks? I thought it was a couple.

I bit my lip, swallowing. I glanced desperately at the wall.

The tapping's getting away! I just know it...

“Oh please…I’ll…be ready,” I mutter, not looking at him. I bite my bruised lip, a dull pain beginning to throb. 

Jack raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. He leaned back on the wall, arms folding. “Really? Because ya still look like a trainwreck from last week.” 

I grit my teeth, well aware of how bruised I look. Pretty much in between my eyes and right face is swollen and looks like I got kicked to the curb. 

My fingers curl into my palms, tensing. “I’m still on my feet, aren’t I?” I snap, defensive. 

Jack sighed, shaking his head slightly. His eyebrows knitted together tightly as he dragged a hand down his face. “Hudson, ya can’t keep doin’ this. I know yer goin’ away in a month, but can’t you leave without getting punched in the face?” 

Tap. 

I snap my head towards the wall, hearing the disappointed snort from Jack. I step closer to the wall, narrowing my eyes. My other hand presses up against the wood, my eyes squinting in focus. 

“Hudson, if you could just listen to me…!”  Jack huffed.

“I swear I can hear something scratching in the walls…” I muttered, pressing my ear closer.

Jack puts a hand firmly on my shoulder, forcing me to face him. 

“Hudson. Stop. There’s nothin’ in the walls, ya need to get rest,” Jack said tightly, the corners of his lips tugging downwards. “Look, I don’t know what’s goin’ on in that department of yours, but clearly, yer not well. How about we just-”

I cut him off, “No! It’s right in there. I know there’s something in there!” My voice raises in volume and I’m right in his face. Something inside is desperately trying to crawl out.

Anger.

 It’s red and spikey and I can imagine it poking at my rib cage from inside. Wanting to see how long it can keep poking. 

I glance away, turning my head. My hand is gripping my briefcase way too tightly as if it’s valuable. It’s not. 

I won’t punch him. I can’t. 

Poke.

I blink, trying to simmer down and focus on something else. 

But he won’t let me.

“Kid, talk to me, dammit!” Jack yells, frustration creeping in his tone. He grabs my shoulder a little more firmly. His dark eyes are conflicted and I can see the storm brewing inside of them. 

I shrug out of his grip, giving him a glare. “Why should I? You just keep dismissing me as crazy.” 

Jack scowls, before angrily shaking his head. 

“BECAUSE YA ARE, HUDSON. YOU KEEP GETTING INTO BULLSHIT WHEREVER YOU GO. WHY DO YA THINK FOLKS ARE UNEASY TO WORK WITH YA?! WHY DO YOU THINK FOLKS SCOWL AT YOU IN THE HALLWAYS?! BECAUSE ALL YOU’VE BEEN LATELY IS A TROUBLESOME KID THROWING HIS SHIT BECAUSE HE CAN’T KEEP IT TOGETHER!” He yelled, shadow creeping over his face as the light flickered above. 

SIlence.

Jack’s eyes widened as he covered his mouth with a hand. He shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t…kid…” He began, staring down at his feet. 

I can imagine something else wiggling in my ribcage. It’s just above anger.

It’s grey, almost static and wheezes a lot. It’s slow and heavy, settling around my heart and gives a little flicker and wheeze.

Hurt. 

I stay frozen in place, blanking. 

I hardly notice Jack wrapping his arms around me and apologizing. His eyes were regretful.

I push him off of me, eyes glistening. My throat is heavy and I drop my briefcase. 

I turn around, leaving him. I can hear him yelling after me, but I don’t answer. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I follow the sound, my heart still heavy. 

He isn’t wrong though. 

After all,

Trouble always meets a sticky end, right? 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

(For @thelocalmoth because why not, they're awesome.)

wait a sec

I thought you were dating Bill Danton..?

Here's the thing: I'm indecisive

Meaning: Hudson is indecisive and it isn't canon that him and Bill are dating. I don't think they even do in my au, just have fleeting crushes

I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE XD

Angus Newman in my AU! Y'know...the lazy toy maker..? The one Shawn despises (Batdr)

Age: 51

Nationality: American/ Scottish

Height: 5'9

Gender: Trans male

Sexuality: Homosexual

Condition: None

RAY MY POOR SWEET BOY YOU DESERVE BETTER (and Hudson is my own oc XD)

OH GOD RAY NO DEPRESSION IS BAD FOR YOU D:

I Miss My Unhinged Partner

Per @unnoticedunawarestillhere’s request…

Ray’s taking the divorce very well.

Your latest drawing has me curious (besides it being beautiful as usual). Who is your favorite band/singer? I know you’ve said you like retro, so do you listen to mostly older music? :3

(Thank you!!)

I do have a couple of singers/bands I like, for example:

Caravan Palace

AJR

Rare Americans

MISSIO

I do also like listening to 20's-40's music as I find it interesting!

If I were to pick a genre of music I really like: it would be electric swing! (I got into this genre when I watched Lackadaisy XD)

"Eh, writers are weird." Paul shrugged as he slipped on his jacket.

"Ready for work? A few pipes busted down at Heavenly Toys. Mister Flynn ain't happy."

((I can start so here yippee))

Maya slung her bag over her shoulder as she walked into the studio, a wrench gripped tightly in her hand. She hated this place. That Joey guy gave her the creeps. He seemed just…too happy. It set her on edge.

Hudson walked, grumbling. His department was still shunning him out! Then suddenly, BAM! The two collided and Hudson stumbled back, catching himself just barely.

"Argh...watch it, won't you?" The writer grumbled, rubbing his head.

"Oh c'mon, I'm sure someone just left there stupid cat here or something." He protested. Then he heard something big run down the stairs...towards them. "Y'know what.....yeah let's RUN."

@ask-thelyricist or @asknorman-polk

-The pipes creaked and groaned as lights began to flicker and stuff began to shake. What was going on? Before Hudson could think about, he was suddenly bathed into darkness, hearing a light bulb above fused out. With this, he trips over a pipe, tumbling forward. He caught himself, thank goodness, but cussed under his breath- "Jesus! What the heck- " -He trailed off, blindly trying to get up-

Jack stilled, not wanting to trip over anything he couldn’t see. He pressed himself into the wall, staring into the void of darkness.

“Jeez… Hey, you alright? Actually wait, who are you? I can’t see anythin’.”