Hudson Wiped His Red Eyes, Face A Hint Red From Crying.

I gotta ask, Hudson and Jack are both trapped in the cycle, so has Hudson met searcher Jack? If so, how does he regard him?

He probably has!

He still regards Jack as a father figure, but not a protector.

Hudson still cares about Jack and protects him. He shows Jack that he cares by doing small gestures such as opening the elevator, helps him collect things and keeps Jack's space well-lit.

HOWEVER:

Hudson is still very resentful to Jack and feels like Jack could've saved him from Sammy. He's also like: "I TOLD YOU HE WAS TRYING TO KILL ME". Thinking that Jack could've just listened.

Hudson feels betrayed, but is sympathetic to Jack, understanding where Jack is coming from

He refuses to talk to him though. Only offering his silent help and gestures.

"Guess I have to go shopping now...."

Wait you're allergic to eggs? THAT'S SO SAD! D:

What else are you allergic too so I know who to tackle if they get too close-

*holding a notebook and pen* 👁️👁️

"Not much, just eggs, Penicillin, dogs, and specifically peanut butter for some reason

Thank you very much for reposting.

My mother has high blood pressure and heart disease and needs medication, but we cannot provide it for her due to lack of money. Your donation will save my mother. I hope you will donate even a small amount. 🙏❤️.

Thank you for your understanding, generosity and giving. 🙏

Of course! I hope all will be well soon! <3

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY AWESOME MOOT: @flowysgonemad

She said that she was into 60' fashion so I had to do some research!

It looks so bad XD since I'm not quite used to 60's fashion nor haven't properly studied it.

OH WELL. HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT BIRTHDAY AND I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE.

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.

If Ray and Hudson had escaped the studio and gotten married!

BRO I READ YOUR COMIC SO MUCH BACK THEN DURING COVID AND I STUMBLED UPON IT WHEN SOMEONE WAS DUBBING IT AND I WAS LIKE: DAMN THIS IS GOOD STUFF :O

OMG thank you so much @unnoticedunawarestillhere

Hudson was quiet for a moment, flexing his still very injured hand.

"Got forced to drink ink again," he said quietly, his eyes not looking at Jack. "I swear, he's going to kill me one day."

"I just wish he would leave me alone with his 'lord Bendy' shit. It doesn't make sense and I'm just....."

"...Getting worse....everyday."

"Heh, it's kind of funny in my mind if I didn't vomit ink three times a week now."

“Hudson, some guy just informed me you punched a mirror. I’m really gonna need an explanation for that one cause I’m worried, and the studio can’t exactly afford property damage.”

~@ask-thelyricist

"I will kill Seymour."

"I'm fine. And no, you do not."

"No comment."

@ask-thelyricist

Happy and sane Hudson?!

It's important to remember that this guy wasn't always an asshole, that's all I'm saying XD !!

I think it's pretty brave of you to vent. I can relate to what you're feeling. I don't know if I can tell you that things will be looking up soon, but I can tell you that I hope it will get better soon and I'm here to support <3. I'm really sorry what's happening and again, I'm here for you. *Hugs* I don't know if this helps, but I feel like this a lot too and I just wanted to say..this vent..makes me feel less alone with my problems. Thank you.

Vent post

Warning for vent, mentions of death/suicide and mentions of running away

Hey guys. Sorry to drop this out of nowhere. I just need to tell someone. To get this off my chest.

I hate where I am right now. I hate school. I hate having people expect something of me. I feel like I’m forgotten. That no one cares. That people just use me or don’t really care about me.

I feel like I’m a ghost in my family. I feel like they’re so busy that they barely care. I sometimes wish I wasn’t born or that I wasn’t here. I know I could never hurt myself though. I wish that I was anywhere but here. Either past of future.

I feel like no one would care if I left. I feel like I what to runaway but I’m not sure if I want to or if I could. Maybe for just a day as then I’d come back home. Still.

I hate myself sometimes too. How lazy I am and how I’m not good. Sometimes I want to rip my heart out so that I would never be hurt again. I feel like I inly hear bad things anymore. No goodness.

I’m so f#cking tired. SO TIRED. I’m tired of all the arguing, the death that’s happening, the being pushed behind and forgotten. I just want to leave. I hate this. All of this. I want to just be free to be myself but I know that I can’t.

I’m in so much pain. I’m trapped and I don’t know what to do. My therapist doesn’t help me but everyone thinks that therapy is “working.” I hate it. So much. Nothing meaningful comes out of it. I’m just tired. I want to be okay for once. But will I ever be?

I hate this. Hate this all. I feel forgotten, pained, and I just… I want to leave it all behind and hardly ever look back. I want to be in the future. I want to be okay.

I swear if one more bad thing happens I might just leave. Run away. I don’t care if people come looking for me. Hey, maybe it’ll make me noticed for once. Haha… ugh. I just want to know I’ll be okay. I want to be okay RIGHT NOW.

Sorry for the vent. But I don’t know why I should be sorry for saying how I feel, due to the fact that everyone’s always telling me to do so. Or whatever. I’ve said what I’ve need to say.