Bites Him Affectionately Like A Cat :3

AHHHHH I LOVE THIS!!! IT'S SO CUTE!!! YAY, THANK YOU <3!!!

Your sona and my sona hanging out? :3

"running errands for the wife!" -BV

Hudson wiped his red eyes, face a hint red from crying.

Hudson went quiet. Dead quiet.

Gently, he forced himself to drift away from Jack and stand up to walk towards Norman.

Quickly, his training kicked in once more. He removed his tie and shirt, only having his undershirt now.

He grabbed his pocket knife from his belt and began to cut his shirt into strips, the sound of cloth tearing could be heard.

Once done, he folded his knife and carefully took Norman's bleeding arm and began to use the strips of cloth as a bandage. Wrapping and layering over Jack's tie until the blood wouldn't stain through so fast.

He then secured it all with his own tie and a safety pin.

He said nothing, eyes red from crying and face now unreadable.

*you and Sammy were in Sammy's office arguing or some shit idfk*

Stella walked into the room and flicked off the light, drawing y'all's attention. she lingered in the doorway, gripping a knife tightly and partially covered in a substance that looked suspiciously like blood...

"Sammy..." she muttered. she acknowledged Hudson with a nod in his direction before throwing her head back and cackling like a maniac. :]

- @art-by-stella

Hudson stared at in suspicion, already turning away from Sammy, whom he was already so done with.

He raised a brow, his gaze unwavering as he folded his arms against his chest. The dark rings under his eyes and his pale skin proved he wasn't in good health. Though he stubbornly refused to admit it.

"Can I help you or are you just going to giggle like a creepy doll all day?" He asked, his tone unconcerned and tired.

(Stella wtf??)

GUYS, GUYS-

LOOKATIT LOOK AT WHAT MY MOOT DID :O

Reblogs appreciated!

I learned how to shade in a matter of days.

I DON'T DESERVE THESE COOKIES, but I'm like..sick ..so NOM NOM NOM-

I love your Henry :> :O

Tysm :D

I love him too, I made him about a year before BatDR released, which is why he looks so different from canon Henry.

He’s small and will bake you cookies.

BRO HUDSON IS GOOD LOOKING NOW??? WHAT.

AVJASJ I LOVE THIS??? THANK YOU??? DAMN THIS LOOKS SO COOL. HUH???

Got bored so I drew:

@eeveelikessoda 's batim oc: Olivia C and @yourfavouriteboyrider

I'm not happy with how I drew Olivia, so one day I'll try and draw her again.

I don't know. You guys seem cool :)

"Because I care."

Norman leaned over in his chair, adjusting his glasses to the bridge of his nose. He could hear Sammy, the head of the Music Department, from below, screaming at one of the trumpet players.

He rolled his eyes before gazing at what he was doodling. On his page were decent scattered little doodles of the trio. On the left Though, he admitted, his Boris doodles could improve, his ears looking a hint floppy. He stared at the slim wooden pencil in his hand before letting it roll away, it halted at the side of the projector. The projector hummed and whirled beside him, its bulb flickering. He glanced around the booth, a few dusty posters of the cast plastered on the walls. The booth smelled stale, sour even, but at this point, Norman was quite used to it. After all, humans, within reason, can adapt to anything. Strangely, the room felt fiercely chilly, making the back of Norman's neck feel a sort of numbness. He shivered, checking the clock.  6:45. Almost time to clock out.  He rubbed the back of his neck, making his long hair sweep to the side.

He rubbed his eyes, tuning out Sammy's screaming. He felt exhausted. Ever since Henry left, it felt like this studio was slowly rotting from the inside. Sure, new ideas kept springing up, such as Bendyland, but for some reason, Norman felt it just made everything worse. Employees were starting to go missing, pipes began to burst and flood departments, money was going down the drain and on and on. Mister Drew still kept talking about dreams coming true, but his talking seemed more like he was trying to hide something. Something bad. That thought piqued Norman's mind, pestering him. What was really going on? He felt curiosity wiggle in his mind, but he paid no mind to it. 

Norman  cupped the side of his face with one hand and rested on it. He closed his tired eyes, trying not to think about what was wrong with the studio. Because if he did, that would definitely cause a horrible miragane. Then, he heard a voice. Her voice, to be correct. He immediately fluttered his eyes open and almost scrambled to look over the booth's opening. He didn’t have time to think how weird he must’ve looked. His eyes furiously scanned below. After searching the river of bolting musicians and chatty voice actors, he spotted her! Susie seemed to remain oblivious of his staring while exchanging words with Sammy. I should probably go say hello, right? Norman felt his face warm up, but he slowly got out of his chair, only to dash down the stairs. I mean it would be weird if I didn’t, right? When he had reached the bottom of the stairs, he was met with a flood of people pushing and shoving to get from place to place. He stopped dead in his tracks, a wave of doubt and sudden nervousness hitting him in the gut. Crowds weren't his thing. People weren't his thing. Sadly, social anxiety terrorized his mind, his stomach felt like it was being knotted. He stared at the hustling crowd, feeling his shoulders tense up. He shoved his hands in his suit pockets, gritting his teeth. Oh how he HATED rush hour. He played with the thought of retreating to his booth and waiting till the rush was over, however...he knew that she would probably already clock out if he waited. He swallowed, reluctantly walking into the busy crowds. He pushed through, hating every aspect of what was happening. Sharp elbows hit him while the sounds of shoes, muttering, even yelling ringed through his ears. He had to dodge a man holding a case for a tuba. Maybe it was just irritation, but he had the temptation to snap at him. 

Finally, the crowds were thinning and he could see the door leading to the actual music room. After slipping past two loud men, he had managed to stagger towards the wooden door, his hand outstretched to grab the rusted doorknob. Before he could jiggle the knob, the door swung open! Almost whacking him in the face. Luckily, Norman had instinctively taken a step back to avoid collusion, his glasses almost slipping off his nose. A young woman with pink hair came out and noticed him. “Sorry, dude. You alright?” She asked, her eyes apologetic. “Yeah..just be careful. Scared the shit outta me.” He muttered, remembering that the  woman was one of the voice actors here. “Will do!” She said, turning away to dash off. Suddenly, words tumbled out, before Norman could think, “U-uh wait!” The woman stopped in her tracks, turning her head towards him. “Hm?”  “Is..is Miss Campbell still in there?” He asked slowly, his tone meek. The voice actress smirked, replying, “She sure is! But I’d go in there now if I were you before she heads out.” Norman nodded curtly, the anxiety in his stomach still not clearing up. He thanked her, though avoided making eye contact.

  After a moment of hesitation, he reached for the knob and jiggled it. He swung the door wide, only for it to accidentally hit the wall on the other side. The sound of it colliding with the wall caused heads to turn. “What do you want?” Sammy muttered, holding a stack of papers. His pale blue eyes glared at his dark green ones. Norman scanned the music room. Unpacked Instruments remained scattered throughout the stage, eager to become a tripping hazard. The room was almost empty, excluding him and Sammy, only a few musicians remained. The remaining musicians paid him no attention as they were either too engrossed in packing up or sharing words with each other.  Norman was snapped out of his looking around by Sammy loudly clearing his throat. Norman narrowed his eyes at this, beginning to answer, “I’m looking for…” His voice trailed off, stalling. Did he really want Sammy knowing he was looking for Miss Campbell? After all, the whole studio was definitely hunting for things to gossip about. Sammy kept shifting the stack of papers in his arms, raising a brow, “Looking for?? Look, Polk, I don’t have all day y’know. I got to return these to Jack before my fucking arms fall off. WHAT DO YOU WANT?” He snapped, struggling to keep his composure due to the papers. Norman, feeling a spark of irritation, finally gave up and told him. “I’m looking for Miss Campbell. I just thought I saw her down here and-” Sammy's eyes glistened with interest, interrupting him, “What do you need her for?”  Norman stammered, “N-none of your business! I’m just asking. Curious and what not..God.”  Sammy gave him a skeptical look which made Norman want to just retreat. “She’ll be in my office, " I asked her to drop something off for me. Probably be coming back here soon.” Sammy informed, his face scrunched up. Norman stared at the papers in Sammys hands, asking, “Do you need help with those?” Sammy snapped his head up, through gritted teeth, he hissed, “Just stay out of the way while you’re waiting. AND DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING.” Norman rolled his eyes in response, letting out a snort. You knock one violin over and he thinks you’re gonna destroy the entire department. Honestly.  Norman watched Sammy stagger away, amusement tingling in his smirk.  Wonder how long he’ll last before he drops all those.  Still watching the irritable composer trudge towards the doors, Norman couldn’t help but wonder why  Sammy was in such a hostile mood.  I mean more than usual. The music door slammed behind Sammy, causing a music stand to topple over.  Was it just him or was everybody being drained out of life? Or, you know, patience. 

Norman leaned against the wall beside the stage, watching to see if the music room's door would swing open.  A few minutes had passed and Norman was beginning to give into the thought of just clocking out without talking to Susie. The music room was now completely silent due to the remaining musicians walking out of the department. Usually Norman liked the silence, it made him feel at ease. But this was different. The silence was beginning to poke at his mind, making him feel uncomfortable. Uneasy as well. He was now wondering if Sammy had tricked him, he frowned at the thought.

 Abruptly, the door swung open, only for a young woman wearing a pale blue dress to scurry out, her heels making an audible clicking sound against the rough wooden floorboards. Her hair bounced off her shoulders as she whipped her head and noticed Norman.  Her eyes stretched as wide as spoons while she hastily walked over to him. “Norman! I'm so sorry for making you wait! Sammy told me you wanted to speak with me?”  Norman was startled at her appearance, she looked ill. Her pale skin, trembling hands and tired eyes, it didn’t seem like her. Of course she was still beautiful in Norman's mind, forever and always, but she seemed so.. fragile. And not like the confident young woman who had a teasing nature like he had remembered. He looked at the corner of her lips, a faint black smear. “Are you alright?” He asked, his tone quiet. He watched Susie almost recoil back at the question, which bewildered him. He took a step closer, worrying plaguing his mind. “Susie?” Susie exhaled before plastering a warm, but weak smile at him. “I'm fine, Norman. You don’t need to worry about me.” Norman wanted to be convinced, but his gut was yelling at him that something was wrong. “Are you sick? I..I’m sure Mister Drew will let you take a few days off.” He said, trying not to show that he was worrying. Also, in the back of his mind, he wasn’t actually sure Mister Drew would give her a day off.  So far, no one had been getting a day off it seemed. It felt like everyone was just praying they’d make it till the end of the day. Or praying they could make it to the infirmary. He could even recall Tom complaining how he and GENT had been working relentlessly, hardly getting the time to see their loved ones. He really hoped Susie wasn’t overworking herself. His thoughts were cut off by Susie's response, “Just feeling a bit tired after today's work, that’s all. I’m surprised you aren’t exhausted yourself.” She smirked, folding her arms at him. Suddenly, her smirk just vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Her shaking hand covered her lips as her body jolted with her coughing. She turned away from Norman, her cough sounding painful. Between coughing Norman heard her trying to reassure him that she was alright. Was it just him or was that black smear darker now?  Norman felt his heart sink. She had just lied to him. But why? Norman shook his head, repressing the urge to argue with himself. “Guess I’m a bit under the weather today, huh?” Susie joked, but the amusement in her tone was crushingly dull.  Without thinking, Norman took her cold soft hand into his, gently saying, “C’mon, let’s take you to the infirmary.” He saw Susie opening her mouth to protest, but then glanced at her hand in his. Her pale cheeks were now painted a light rose. She nodded curtly, strands of her hair tickling her forehead. 

The walk to the infirmary was silent. Neither one of them dared to utter a word. It still stung Norman that she had lied to him, but he couldn’t focus on that.  Also, he was currently mentally banging his head against a wall. He shouldn’t have just grabbed her hand like that! Politely suggesting to go to the infirmary would’ve probably been a better solution. Not grabbing someone's hand and making them. His face burned with embarrassment..and also how they were still holding hands.  She hasn’t objected so that’s..good? Damnit, Tom was right, I am fucking hopeless.   He let out a sharp exhale, trying to just focus on the task at hand. 

 Finally, the entrance for the infirmary was coming up ahead, its entrance having no door, just an open space where the door should’ve been. Cheerful posters were stuck on the wall, most of them starring just Bendy. Besides the friendly decor, there above the entrance held the sign, NOT SICK, NOT PAID. Its black bolded letters practically yelled at the two. There on the very back wall held an outdated fading calendar. 

The only sounds that could be heard was the sound of their footsteps hitting the floor. The room had two big filing cabinets on the right, as well as a supply closet, which Norman guessed is where they keep First Aid supplies. At the very end lay two cots. Norman winced at the sight of them as the cots looked terribly uncomfortable and held stains that Norman didn’t wanna even know about. On the left side, there were just a few wooden chairs placed there for waiting patients or visitors. 

Finally, he let his hand slip away from Susie's still cold ones. “Hold up, I have an idea.” He said, already walking towards the supply closet. “Norman, stop, you really don’t have to do this.” Susie spoke in a hushed tone, her eyes pleading with him. But for once in his life, Norman felt determination flow through him. “Just hold on.” He said, before turning to meet Susie's wary  eyes. “Please?” He implored, his eyes softened as well as his tone. Susie let out a sigh, but nodded her head in defeat. Norman watched her slowly walk towards one of the chairs closest to the entrance. She carefully tucked in her skyblue dress, being cautious not to get it caught on the chairs' sharp edges. “Fine. But Norman? I’m giving you about five minutes to do whatever. If your plan isn’t ready by then, then we’ll be going with my plan. Which is going home.” She muttered, her voice gentle, but firm. Norman nodded his head vigorously, exclaiming, “Great! Five minutes should be plenty!”  His face brightened, but deep down, the clock was ticking and pressure was on.  

He walked over to the closest, reaching for its handle. After jiggling the handle, the closest door popped open, making a deep creaking sound. Inside held shelves filled with the typical stuff you would expect to see in an infirmary's closet. There on the top shelf held a metal case with the red cross sign. Second shelf held rolls of bandages, glass jars filled with cotton balls, swab sticks, popsicle sticks and bandaids. Plus a bottle of rubbing alcohol for disinfecting wounds. On the last shelf held folded white sheets. The gears started turning in his head and he got to work.  Norman bent down, carefully reaching for a few white folded sheets. A loose strand of hair brushed against his cheek, but Norman ignored it, too focused on what he was doing. He got up quickly, heading to the first cot his way. Near the cot was a wooden end table, where Norman put the folded sheets. He picked up one, unfolding it and fluttering it over the cot, letting it gracefully lay down. He tucked the loose ends of the soft sheet into the metal frame of the cot. He made sure to do this on both sides. He grabbed another sheet and lay it on top of the first one, unfolding it. The second sheet acted like a thin, but silky blanket. The rest of folded sheets on the end table were plopped to the head of the cot as a pretend pillow.  Surprisingly, Norman had one minute left, to perfect his “masterpiece”, he gently took the trim of the “blanket” and folded it over itself by only just a few inches.  He smiled at his simple creation, before turning to meet Susie, who looked pretty surprised.  “Done.” He said, motioning towards the cot. Susie's face flushed, but a small warm smile tugged on her lips. “It might not be very comfortable, but I hope the sheets make it look more appealing.” He stated, his tone apologetic.  Susie shook her head, getting up from the chair. “It’s definitely an improvement.” She declared, chuckling a bit, but then stopped. She began to speak, “Norman, It’s nice of you to care, but honestly-” Before Norman could realize it, he cut her off, “You need rest.” Susie's eyes looked torn at him, but she let out a short sigh. Norman was about to think she was going to argue, but then she spoke, “You did do all this in under five minutes..oh fine! But, I’ll only take a quick nap, alright?” Norman nodded, feeling mild relief that she accepted. He watched Susie slip off her black heels and hop onto the cot, getting the makeshift blanket to lie on top of her. “I must admit your bed making skills are impressive.” She admitted, shifting to sit up on the cot. “Thank you! When you have to grow up making your own bed AND your younger brothers, you kind of perfect that skill.” He laughed softly, feeling the knots in his stomach easen and untangle. Susie let out a laugh, an actual happy laugh. It sounded beautiful to Norman. Norman smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets. He slowly turned away towards the entrance, but stopped when he heard Susie speak, “Where are you going?” He turned back to her, asking, “Do..you want me to stay?” He felt surprised, but almost flattered as well. “Well it would be nice to have some company just before I rest. And, it’s not like I have a whole lot of time to speak with you these busy days.  Most of the time I can barely find you actually!” She exclaimed, amusement sparkling in her dull eyes. Norman guiltily shrugged his shoulders at her, quietly muttering “Sorry about that.” He stood there for a minute, processing. Then after standing like a statue for a whole minute, he turned towards the chairs and grabbed one of them. He hoisted it up before placing it almost at the foot of the cot.  He slowly sat down, the wooden chair letting out a low creak. It felt uncomfortably hard against Norman’s back, but he didn’t complain. He crossed his leg and leaned back.  

The two talked for a while. About interests, dreams, opinions and mostly just about daily things. Norman also humoured her with stories about Johnny when he was little. It was so worth making her laugh. After an hour of talking, the flow of conversation was now thinning as Susie looked more and more tired with each passing minute. Norman could feel wary himself, but in a content way. He heard Susie letting out a yawn before laying down. She rested her head on the little mountain of folded sheets while she stared at Norman through tired eyes. Norman folded his arms, tilting his head down and closing his eyes. Abruptly he heard Susie mutter something to him. Without opening his eyes, he spoke, “Pardon?”  “I asked, why are you doing this for me?” Susie repeated, her tone faint. Norman fluttered his eyes open, staring at her. It was a simple question. Norman opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Instead, something tickled his throat making him cough. Once he coughed he couldn’t stop. Norman felt his lungs burn while his throat felt sore. He drew a hand to cover his coughing, when pulling his hand away, he noticed it was stained black. His body jolted with every cough and with every cough  his lungs tightened till he couldn’t breath. His vision turned black. He opened his mouth to yell for Susie, but only more ink came up. No air, just ink. Just ink. Like everything else. Every living thing. 

He woke up with a jolt, gasping. Norman's hand grabbed his chest. His cold inky chest. He touched his face. Tried to at least. There where his face should’ve been was a hard metal projector.  He slowed down his breathing. DId he even need to breathe? How was he breathing? Was  he breathing? He could feel ink inside. Was the ink breathing for him? Didn’t matter.  He looked around him, pipes steamed above him while the sound of walls groaning. The room was mostly empty, only a cot, desk and few boxes filled with reels remained. He just sat there in the corner. He felt his throat have a lump in it. Not by the ink, but from sadness. He didn’t know if that was just a dream or a memory. Probably just a dream even though it felt so..vivid. He remembered Susie's laugh which stabbed his heart. Then he thought about her question. The question he didn’t answer. “Why are you doing this for me?” Through the speaker connected to his projector on his head, he whispered through a static voice, “Because I care, Susie. Because I love you.” He clutched his legs, bringing them closer to his chest and buried his projector head in them. “Because I love you.” He quietly repeated with a sob. 

Please don't skip my message 🍉🇵🇸 to our honorable people in the world My name is Abdul Rahman from Gaza.. I lost everything in life.. My wife was martyred and my child and I were injured by a missile that fell on us.. My life was completely destroyed and I was severely injured all over my body especially my legs.. The missile tore my wife apart while she was carrying our child.. I ask for your support to start my life anew and overcome the tragedy I am going through.. Please help me with any amount no matter how small to treat my injury and my child's injury and get out of the Gaza Strip and start a better life.. And spread my campaign and my story so that everyone can see it 🍉🍉🇵🇸🇵🇸

Vetted by 90-ghost

https://gofund.me/c810ba27

please reblog!

"Maybe I should wake up."

"Maybe I should call my Mom."

"Maybe I should hug Charlie today."

"Maybe I should try cooking."

...

"I won't though."

"I won't because I can't and I can't because I won't."

"JUST WAKE ME UP."

Hudson furrowed his brow, his hand stroking Ray's hair gently as his other hand went to Ray's shoulder, rubbing it slightly with a cold hand. He felt uneasy that he had already been pronounced dead, but in a way, relieved.

"Ray.....you need to take care of yourself. I don't want you suffering like this...and I know suffering."

"I just....I know I can't take off the grieving, but damn it...I don't want you to go down like this. You have so much to offer Ray. And more than a pretty face. Even though that's a pretty sweet bonus."

"You're creative, sweet, loving, sensible and tough inside. And so smart."

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.

Meet some of my BATIM ocs!

Paul Becker: he works as an engineer and Technic for GENT. He is 34, 5'9, Canadian/Japanese. He is not out of the closet yet and protects himself by making sarcastic jokes and mean remarks. He was born in Toronto before he packed his bags and headed for New York. He was killed when a flood happened in the lower levels of the studio.

2. Darcy Mayflower: she works as one of the secretaries for Mister Drew. She is 24, 5'4, and American. She is bisexual and transgender (M to F). She's chatty, good spirited, but can be dishonest and prone to gossip. She was born in Texas. She died due to ink poison.

3. Trevor Covens: he works as another engineer for GENT. He is 21, 5'8, American/Australian. He is straight and maybe trans? (Idk yet). He's argumentative, stubborn and quick to fight. He was born in Las Vegas. He died due to a gunshot wound in the chest. He was also the one that Hudson had punched in the nose.

4. "Val" Valentine O'Neil: She works in the Writing Department. She is 19 1/2, 5'7, Irish/Spanish. She is fluent in English, Spanish, and German. Val used to have an Irish accent, but she got tired of the confused looks and just got rid of it (trading it for an American accent). She's a lesbian and goes by she/they. She is quiet, spooky and quick-witted. She was born in Cork, Ireland and came to America to visit her friends. She escaped the studio, but had gotten into a car accident a few months after.