Hudson Glanced At Ray When He Fixed His Hat, Raising A Brow, But At Least Didn't Swat Ray's Hand Away

Ooo what’s your favorite character dynamic to work with in the cast? :o

Hmmm Here are a list of my favourites

-anything that includes Norman cause yeah

-Hudson and Jack being buddies

-Johnny and Buddy

-Henry and Sammy

-Wally and a broom.

(If you're curious to see any of these, just let me know!)

"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.

Honestly? Yeah. It's kind of stealing the magic in the arts and I hate it.

REBLOG, IF YOU HATE AI

SERIOUSLY GUYS I DON'T BITE

Drawings requests or asks about my AU would be most appreciated because school is making me lose my mind ^ ^! If you want more facts about a certain character let me know!

Hehehe Boops!

And since I know I promised you guys a Jack:

Please like this or reblog! (Who knows maybe I'll make more comics :O)

I worked really hard on it ^ ^u

"Can we build a fire now?"

Am more tempted to draw younger Hudson.

JUST LOOK AT HOW CUTE HE IS C'MON LOOKKKKK AT HIS FACEEE ARGHHHh

I WILL ALWAYS BE IN THE BENDY FANDOM. YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME.

Listen - I don't give a fuck if you prefer Batim more than Batdr or Batdr more than Batim

I don't give a fuck about your opinion on this game or character

Reblog it if you are actually still in Bendy fandom or at least remember being in it

I need to know how many of us are left in the world...

Edit: YOOO WE GET TO 1000

YESS

BENDY FANDOM (or people who just like it) - RISE!!!

Another edit: 2000???

Where were you hiding all this time???

Edit: yeah, gonna write it here too

By the way this post was not made for reblog bait... I mean, you can do anything - reblog, comment or just like, I just wanted to know how many people still know this game. Not that anyone said it is, I just don't want anyone to think this is. No, do what you want, it's okay

Found these when I tried to draw TADC characters, Gangle being my favourite XD !!!

GUYS PLEASE CHECK THIS STORY OUT! It's short and totally worth reading!

Going to be honest, the depictions of suffocation and blood were on point and made me smile (BECAUSE IT WAS WELL-WRITTEN NOT BECAUSE RAY IS SUFFERING NO)

The whole "first person" view makes it even more thrilling!! And the wrap up at the end just seems content! Especially since all of this in Ray's perspective!!

Anyway, I hope more fic will be written in the future!!! (I'll be trying to write more, that's for sure)

For The Mind & Lungs

A short Ray/Hudson fic for the Aftermath AU!

Depiction of choking/suffocating + blood! It isn’t very graphic, but the themes are still dark!!

I can’t breathe.

I try to take a breath, but I’m just gasping for air, my lungs never satisfied.

They ache and burn.

I can’t scream either. My voice is muted and dull, like it was just taken away from me.

Maybe it’s because I can’t. BREATHE.

It’s his fault. Who’s fault? I look around, but I can’t see anything. Why can’t I see anything?

Smoke. There’s too much smoke. It clouds my vision; fills my lungs. It stings my eyes, making them water, and now I can’t tell if I’m crying because it hurts or because I’m terrified.

My hand grasps at my chest, pulling at the fabric of my shirt. It feels wet. Warm. I glance down.

My hand is stained red, so is my shirt. Red blossoms from my chest, reaching across the white fabric.

I liked this shirt, I think past the buzzing of other noises echoing in my head. But it’s ruined now. It was white and I don’t want a red shirt.

By now my lungs have found enough air to send me spiraling into a coughing fit, and suddenly I’m doubled over, my chest and stomach heaving uncontrollably. I feel nauseous. The coughing is making me gag, so is the smell of all this smoke.

Everything is so overwhelming. My body is failing me. Tears are spilling out of my eyes and down my cheeks as I helplessly gasp for air past the ragged wheezing. I’m dying.

I’m dying.

I feel soft cloth pressing against my skin as I sit up so quickly it’s dizzying.

I’m still gasping for air, but now it’s not because the room’s full of smoke, my heart is just beating out of my chest. I’m in a cold sweat and I’m shaking like crazy.

Through all of the panting and buzzing in my ears, I hear my name. Soft and confused, a voice I would recognize anywhere.

He asks if I’m okay, and I can tell any response I give will convey a “no” even if I say I am.

I nod and close my eyes for a moment, trying to steady my breathing. I let him pull me in; nod once more when he asks me if it was another nightmare.

We’ll talk about it later, but for now I just assure him that I’m okay, he should go back to sleep. He holds me in his arms, which feels weird considering I’m usually the one doing that. It’s nice though.

He’s still concerned, but he’s also half-asleep, so he goes along with it as I settle back down. He wraps an arm around me and I rest my head on his chest, staring into the room as I think about other things to distract myself.

Chores. Comic ideas. I repeat the steps to make a paper chrysanthemum in my head and I’m already drifting off by the third flower.

I feel bad for waking him. Even worse that it’s become so normal he doesn’t even look surprised anymore. But he cares.

And they’re all just dreams anyway.