Hello, Wonderful Souls! 🤍🌍

GUYS!! I GOT AN AUDITION FOR A PLAY THIS WEEKEND.

WISH ME LUCK!!!

You have a nice OC. Very stylish. Very cute. I like. :3

*eats art* and tasty.

^ ^ aww thank you! *Watches you eat my art* ....do you want some hot sauce on that?

The replacement .

Piccrew link here: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/2288696

Tagging some of my moots!

(please do NOT feel pressured into doing this! I haven't tagged all my moots, but if they want to do this, they can totally join!)

@flowysgonemad @slaterdevil @cupidstarz @r0zzk1ll @azzy-demangel

@thegodswillstrikemedown

@thelocalmoth @type1dragonwolf @bloodofthedemon @saltysublimebouquet @mildlybizarrecorvid

@eviethenut @eeveelikessoda @pixulsfant @fancybendyboi

AYO LET'S GOOO THEY ARE SO PLOTTING.

My persona hugging your persona? :D

If not, my Susie laughing with your Susie?

they are plotting >:]

-Sympathetic, Hudson waited for Henry to catch up, before gently asking, "Do you need to sit down?" -His smile matching his eyes. Gentle and kind-

-Hudson runs into the art department- "HENRY GUESS WHAT I PUNCHED A PERSON FROM GENT AND GOT AWAY WITH IT."

-Being silly. This wouldn't actually be Hudson's reaction, but y'know whatever :3-

Henry sat bolt upright, looking over at Hudson as he ran in. “You did what?”

how would Hudson feel about being called a silly goose

He would bite your finger off :3

I AM GOING TO STEAL YOUR ART AND EAT IT (positive)

Damn, alrighty then XD

INTRODUCTION (cause I just remembered)

Hello there! You may call me Untitled or Hudson.

My pronouns are He/him or they/them(?) and I am a Canadian artist/writer!

I always try to be on the neutral side and think in shades of grey (so I'll sound pretty annoying sometimes XD)

My BATIM Au is called: Dead And Buried!

I love drawing/writing/reading horror and gruesome stuff! Also I like reading history! (Examples: WW2, WW1, Plains of Abraham,etc)

I listen to true crime and supernatural podcasts/ documentaries.

I do not tolerate:

-Homophobia/ Transphobia

-Racism

-Sexism

-Paedophilia (seriously gross..)

-Ableism

-Bullying/harassment

-Trump supporters

The list could go on. Which is unfortunate.

I really love interacting with BATIM/BATDR community, so please don't mind me, I mean no harm ^ ^! I also write and draw more than the BATIM fandom (might actually post stuff). The fandoms I like are:

The Still Wakes The Deep

Pressure (from Roblox)

Don't Starve Together

Murder Drones

Inside Job

EPIC the musical

Welcome Home!

And more!

Don't feel afraid to send asks!!

Reblogs are appreciated!

I am unable to donate money and neither are my friends.

Please do NOT copy my work, thank you.

Feel free to role play with my BATIM au or me (Hudson) in the asks! Since..I don't have discord and what not. Which is sad :(

Unfinished story :P

Sometimes I think I can still hear it.

The sound of ink dripping off the walls and vanishing into those dark puddles. The sound of metal cogs grinding against one another. The sound of creaking floorboards. 

But I know it isn’t real. Of course it isn’t.

It’s day five now. Five days ago I was tearing up at the floorboards above and now?

I can see the light that shines from outside. I can see people’s faces. I can see the warmest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. A familiar pretty face.

Oh how I missed that face. It’s nice to be able to see it again, don’t get me wrong. 

But sometimes, I swear I can see something creeping up on me in the corner of my eye. Always watching, but never drawing near. 

I think it’s worth mentioning I read his book.

The Illusion Of Living? That memoir of Joey Drew?

Bullshit, I tell you. But then…..it definitely gives some folks perspective.

The whole philosophy seemed to belong in that inky nightmare, making itself fit right at home there. But now reading it, it just seems ... .oh what’s the word…ridiculous? 

It’s ridiculous! Hogwash! But so very real. 

I’m real. Well, the sweetheart tells me that anyway.

It’s all still shocking though. All those years trapped in the studio…What am I now? 29? Older? Probably? It’s all fuzzy really. Maybe it’s not even important. 

I got a new fresh start. Sharing a house with Henry and his wife, Linda. Me and the sweetheart are in the second guest room upstairs.

It’s a nice house. Tidy, just how Linda likes it. But it feels so…off. By now, I’m used to those filthy machines and gadgets. 

Henry is nice enough to let me use the sun room to write my articles. Yep, articles.

I work for the paper now as mostly an editor, but still, it’s something. I can work from the house, though Linda thinks it would be a nice idea for me to go outside and get a sense of normalcy.

I respect Linda. She’s smart, wistful and chipper. A loyal one to Henry too. 

But doesn’t she realise that nothing is normal for us anymore? 

Going to work in person would just bring me more tension. And from what I’ve been told, I’m full of it. Still, yes, I do sometimes visit the office. Just to please the sweetheart.

But it’s not always for me. Those stares. Those whispers. Those tiny cautious questions. 

Oh do I wish I could avoid them. 

I sort of dress the same now. White collared shirt, black trousers, belt and leather shoes. Most times I’ll swipe Henry’s fedora. Classy, but doesn’t scream the nines. But getting dressed up feels weird too now. Taking a shower, feeling the warm water, before stepping out and drying myself? It feels off too. It’s like I’m waiting for the water to just..stain me. Like the ink.

But it doesn’t, of course it doesn’t. It’s just fucking water. 

I can’t yell anymore. Sometimes it hurts to talk while other days, it hurts to breathe. 

But I can’t complain. I don’t want to worry anyone. I don’t even deserve being..saved.