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Hudson Hendricks - Blog Posts

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.

For The Mind & Lungs

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.


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Warning: GAY

Warning: GAY
Warning: GAY
Warning: GAY
Warning: GAY

I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH MY GOD I NEED SOMEONE TO GIVE THEM A SHIP NAME.

Hudson's smug look needs to be a sticker....hear me out


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Been listening to the new Gaslight District song and it is awesome.

Been Listening To The New Gaslight District Song And It Is Awesome.
Been Listening To The New Gaslight District Song And It Is Awesome.
Been Listening To The New Gaslight District Song And It Is Awesome.

GOD CAN WE JUST LOOK AT THIS FOR A SEC??? I'M PROUD OF THIS OKAY:

Been Listening To The New Gaslight District Song And It Is Awesome.

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Doodles!

Doodles!
Doodles!
Doodles!

Figured we all needed a good old Hudson take! Honestly just wanted to see original Hudson again XD


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COLLAGE MONTH FOR BATIM OCS!

COLLAGE MONTH FOR BATIM OCS!

Here is Hudson's! (Idk I wanted to make a game or something)

Ideas of what to put: treasured objects/places, nationality, problems, etc!

No pressure you guys!:

@thelocalmoth @creationandcalamityau @blackandwhite2supportclub @fancybendy @justuravghazbin

Credit to canva!


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"I should have regrets for being a people pleaser, but do I?"

"....."

"Don't answer that."

Hey, just here to remind you that you ate a cigar.

You ate it.

You consumed it.

You swallowed it.

That was a thing you did.

And I have no regrets.


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AHSssOAJUEHDMASKDSAOAEAKDNXB

I NEED A T-SHIRT OF THEM, AND A PENCIL CASE, AND A PENCIL, AND SOCKS, AND A TOTE BAG I NEED THIS TO BE MERCH HELP

I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!! *aggressively hugs the bunnies*

Happy Easter!!! 🐇 🥚

Happy Easter!!! 🐇 🥚
Happy Easter!!! 🐇 🥚
Happy Easter!!! 🐇 🥚

Drew my boys as bunnies. They got bunny’d. Originally I was gonna drag Norman, but I got kinda caught up with other work, so we got the three of ‘em!

Get bunny’d, @unnoticedunawarestillhere


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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.


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Selfish (warning: gore)

Knock, knock, knock.

I’m not going to answer it. I already know who it is.

My breathing stopped when I heard a creak of a board. 

I instantly fluttered my eye open and stared up, having to adjust to the darkness bathing the room. 

It takes me a while for my vision to properly adjust, but I see him. He’s looming over me. 

He’s bloody and contorted. Half his face hacked away till bone seeped through. Throat slashed until vocal cords were ruined. His body is mostly bones, his ribcage peeking from that tattered shirt. 

The thick smell of copper and antiseptic filled my senses, overwhelming as they assaulted my nose. 

Blood won’t stop pouring from him. But it doesn’t seem like he cares. In fact, he’s hardly interested in that.

Those empty black voids, where eyes used to be, wouldn’t stop staring at me. Wanting something from me.

When moonlight strayed through the window, I could see a metallic glint. The scissors….its jaws were clean, smelling of antiseptic. It was as if they had never touched flesh. 

But I knew the truth.

He loomed closer, close enough for me to see exposed teeth from hanging flesh. He didn’t care if I was feeling nausea, no, he wanted me to see.  

He’s twisted, he’s malevolent, he’s ugly.

He’s me. 

And he won’t let me forget that.

I can already feel a cold hand firmly grip my wrist. Boney fingers curling around my pulse and nails digging into soft skin. I try ripping my wrist away, which he complies. 

Only for his hands to aim for my neck, squeezing tightly. This causes me to let out a strangled sound while my hands grip his skeletal shoulders and push him away. 

But I’m panicking. I can feel my lungs being stabbed inside of my ribcage. My windpipe can’t handle this. My oxygen levels are depleting. My breathing is raspy and desperate. 

He smiles at me. The blood from his face already marring mine as it splatters down. 

He presses harder, fingers digging in, oxygen leaking out, sight going blurry and-

I wake up with a startled noise. 

The room is bathed in darkness once more. Moonlight leaking onto the floorboards below as the silk curtains sway gently with each passing soft gale. The clock hung up on the wall ticked contently, its tempo steady. 

My breathing was still unsteady, my heart already trying to shoot out of my chest. 

I squeeze my eye shut, my legs curling in and up to my chest. It’s pathetic, but I can’t handle it. 

My right foot brushes on something warm. I can finally smell the scent of something like sandalwood and cigarettes. I can hear the sound of soft breathing. 

I carefully prop myself up with one elbow, turning my head fully to see a sleeping form of a man next to me. His dark hair is messy and his white under shirt slightly wrinkled. His back turned on me while I watched his frame slowly raise and fall. 

After a moment of uncertainty, I shifted closer, the sound of rustling under the heavy soft blanket being heard. I’m about to reach out and just let myself seek comfort, but….

I’m scared. It’s only been five days since we escaped the studio. Everything is still….new, in a way. And when things are new, that means you can easily just screw them up. 

I drop my hand, letting it fall on the mattress beneath the covers. Forget it. 

Just then I heard a creak as the man rolled onto his side, facing me. Half-lidded brown eyes staring at me while a drowsy smile is already forming on perfect lips. 

“Somethin’ the matter, darlin?” He asked, his voice still rough with sleep. A dark strand of hair tickles his forehead. 

I didn't respond at first. But after a few heart beats, I managed to mumble, “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

I hated when his brow arched like that right then and there. 

Suddenly, I felt my body being pulled towards warmth and sandal-wood. My chest met his and my face buried in the crook of his neck. Hair tickling my face. At first, my body’s stiff, but I finally manage to thaw it all off. Letting my leg curl around his and nuzzling in his shoulder. 

I forget that this is all mine. 

“How can I when you’ve gotten so cold?” He asked me, his voice teasing, but having a warm lilt in it. 

I feel him bringing up the covers closer to us, before warm arms cradle my waist. 

“C’mon. I know when somethin’ is goin’ on with ya,” he said gently. His voice is coaxing and sweet.

Damn it. 

I don’t answer, only shifting closer and glancing at the wall behind him.

“Is it your eye again?”

I froze. 

He knew how much I hated my blind spot. How angry I could get when I bumped into something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Or how anxious I would get when I couldn’t see his face when he spoke to me. 

“You can hear me, yeah?” 

….

“Yes,” I mumbled, biting my lip a little.

I felt a pair of soft lips gently brush my forehead. 

“And you can feel me?”

I went quiet, before meekly answering, “Yeah…”

“And you know I’m here.”

I sighed, nodding as I let him cradle my face with his hands, a thumb stroking my scarred cheek carefully. 

I met his gaze in the dark, moonlight shining in those pools of autumn brown. Before I let myself lean in and kiss him. The kiss made something in my stomach flutter, even now as if I was still a young boy. It was comforting and long. Always desired, always welcomed, but….

I wanted to say that it wasn’t my blind spot that was bothering me this time. I wanted to explain about the ghost. I wanted to explain about all the sharp things in my chest and mind that just kept poking and lingering.

Making me so twisted. So malevolent. So ugly. 

But I can’t. 

How could I ruin this? How could I bring that up and dig up old bitter memories for him and I? 

I’m being selfish for wanting him. For loving him. For glaring at folks when they step too close to him. 

But he’s so beautiful. So gracious. So warm. 

And I hate that he loves me. 

I’m going to ruin him. 

But…

I pulled back for air, catching my breath, before kissing him again. My arms wrapped around his neck as I tilted my head. Letting my nose brush against his.

He’s so sweet. So benevolent. So warm.

And all mine.

And I won’t let him go. 

Because I love him too much. I, Hudson Andrew Hendricks, love Raymond Graves. 

Even when I’m decaying under rotting floorboards.


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Hudson's Design If He Belonged In The Aftermath Au! This Au Was Created By @thelocalmoth So Credit Goes
Hudson's Design If He Belonged In The Aftermath Au! This Au Was Created By @thelocalmoth So Credit Goes

Hudson's design if he belonged in the aftermath au! This au was created by @thelocalmoth so credit goes to them!

Obviously, Hudson's face would be scarred as well as his throat and chest (where he was stabbed).

Sammy in the end (before the whole magical fix) gave Hudson back his eye (the other one he fed to the ink demon). Hudson remained his sight and his proper voice, however, he can only really talk quietly and cannot yell (it hurts way too much).


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If Ray And Hudson Had Escaped The Studio And Gotten Married!

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

If Ray And Hudson Had Escaped The Studio And Gotten Married!

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Hudson’s reaction to Ray wearing eyeshadow? (Or any makeup, really)

Hudson’s Reaction To Ray Wearing Eyeshadow? (Or Any Makeup, Really)
Hudson’s Reaction To Ray Wearing Eyeshadow? (Or Any Makeup, Really)

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Hudson stubbornly held his guard, "Yeah, and I'm not going to let him win!" His brown eyes pointed daggers at Nickson, his posture turning even more tense.

Nickson sneered at the two, before Tucker came in between the two boys. His lanky tall figure looming over the two boys, hands folded across his chest. "That's enough! Fallows, keep in your lane. Hendricks, keep your temper in check. I do not want another fight breaking out between you two. The last one, I had to call your parents, a forest ranger and a doctor."

Tucker grabbed Hudson firmly by his shoulder, holding him back while giving him a dark look.

"Shall I call your father? I mean...I'd hate to pull him out of drills right now."

Hudson ripped his shoulder out of the Scout Master's grip, shaking his head. "No."

He went quiet after that.

Catherine watched her boy go bound off towards the forest, already passing a gathering of boys, the group exchanging excited words about the upcoming hike.

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that, ma’am. ‘Got all wrapped up… ‘name’s Daniel,” he said, offering her a hand. “My son’s name is Raymond. We’re from Virginia, just stayin’ for the summer.”


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Hudson gave him an abashed look, "Well, it's not like I'm some sort of wordsmith or anything. But I guess, if you want..."

"Glad to hear that you got the oceanography merit badge though. I could never. I hardly deserve that badge."

"In fact, I suck at geography and navigation."

He finally entered the clearing, checking Ray was beside him before he marched ahead. The scout master Tucker was already separating scouts into groups, acting like a Shepard.

Hudson waved Ray over as he walked over to the master. The man seemed to be in his early 20's and seemed...fine. Not that interesting really.

"Ah, hello there. You must be the new scout! Care to introduce yourself?"

Tucker glanced at Hudson, narrowing his eyes. "Hendricks. No tricks, no kicks, no glass."

Catherine watched her boy go bound off towards the forest, already passing a gathering of boys, the group exchanging excited words about the upcoming hike.

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that, ma’am. ‘Got all wrapped up… ‘name’s Daniel,” he said, offering her a hand. “My son’s name is Raymond. We’re from Virginia, just stayin’ for the summer.”


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Shitty Drawings I Tried To Draw Of Hudson And Ray That Just Didn't Work Out.

Shitty drawings I tried to draw of Hudson and Ray that just didn't work out.

Luckily, I'm working on a project behind the scenes that I'll hopefully won't bail from (wish me luck people)

I'll probably doodle them together when I can


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how would scout Hudson react to Hudson lookin like that after he died...

How Would Scout Hudson React To Hudson Lookin Like That After He Died...

The bro would be having a tough time figuring out what happened and if he should even go through childhood :(


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Hudson glanced at Ray when he fixed his hat, raising a brow, but at least didn't swat Ray's hand away nor hiss. He watched Catherine walk away in a haste, yelling a quick goodbye in French. He would then snap his attention back on Ray.

"Your first impression is that you're asking to get bullied. Stand up straighter, goodness."

Hudson folded his arms, tilting his head as he watched Ray twirl his hair. "Whatever. You're not the first kid my Mere shoved towards me. And you probably won't be the last, knowing her."

He brushed the dirt off his knees and stood up, back tall and shoulders squared. "I wouldn't do that in front of the other guys. They'll probably call you a girl."

His hard glare slowly melted into something more...warmer. Still intense, but no longer icy. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahem. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that no ones around and I don't need to act like this."

He stretched out hand, smiling sheepishly with that cute little gape in his teeth. "I'm Hudson. And I'm going to help you make it through this, alright?"

Catherine watched her boy go bound off towards the forest, already passing a gathering of boys, the group exchanging excited words about the upcoming hike.

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that, ma’am. ‘Got all wrapped up… ‘name’s Daniel,” he said, offering her a hand. “My son’s name is Raymond. We’re from Virginia, just stayin’ for the summer.”


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Cathy sighed, shaking her head in distaste. She gave Ray a mere glance, "Sorry. That would be my sparrow."

She marched over to the fence, a moving figure already coming into view as the trees were now having some distance between each other.

The figure happened to a young boy. His scout uniform was smooth, but dishevelled and dirty. One knee had a bandage while one knuckles had a bandage as well. The hat the boy was wearing was teetering at the edge of his scalp, threatening to fall off.

The boy gave his mother a quick glance, before scrambling to hop the fence, causing Cathy to already be on the move. She argued and scolded the boy in French, while the boy was already spitting back at her.

Cathy awkwardly glanced back at Ray, tugging her son off the fence and making him jump off. "Ray, this is Hudson."

"Hudson, this is Ray. You're going to take good care of this boy, okay? He's new to your unit," Cathy said in a soft tone, glancing back at Ray.

Catherine watched her boy go bound off towards the forest, already passing a gathering of boys, the group exchanging excited words about the upcoming hike.

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that, ma’am. ‘Got all wrapped up… ‘name’s Daniel,” he said, offering her a hand. “My son’s name is Raymond. We’re from Virginia, just stayin’ for the summer.”


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"Happy Birthday, Ray Of Sunshine."
"Happy Birthday, Ray Of Sunshine."

"Happy Birthday, Ray of Sunshine."

An aquarium date for Ray's birthday I don't know XD

Gift for @thelocalmoth

It took me four or three days to complete this. The texture and inking was torturous D:


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what would Hudson look like if he lived in a different decade? Like what would he wear?

What Would Hudson Look Like If He Lived In A Different Decade? Like What Would He Wear?
What Would Hudson Look Like If He Lived In A Different Decade? Like What Would He Wear?

I couldn't decide so I drew these times that he might have been in if he wasn't a BATIM oc. (Though, I still believe him being in the 20's is a good match)

MY APOLOGIES FOR THOSE WHO HAVE SENT ME ASKS. I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO DRAW FOR THOSE ASKS BUT I NEED TO FIND THE STUPID TIME ARGHHhHh


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With a polite and warm dip of her head, Cathy waved and walked over to Ray.

She caught the kid awkwardly shuffling around a grand oak, its branches outstretched to the sky as sunlight seeped through its leaves and branches.

She smiled, chuckling when she knelt down, her dress sweeping over dirt and grass. Her warm benevolent brown eyes melted in Ray's as she tilted her head. "Well hello, miel. How are you over here? Is the oak giving you company?"

Her teasing was light and sympathetic, before her hands reached out to adjust Ray's collar and sash and patches.

"There. What a pretty little boy you are," she praised, her tone sweet like honey.

Catherine watched her boy go bound off towards the forest, already passing a gathering of boys, the group exchanging excited words about the upcoming hike.

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that, ma’am. ‘Got all wrapped up… ‘name’s Daniel,” he said, offering her a hand. “My son’s name is Raymond. We’re from Virginia, just stayin’ for the summer.”


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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.


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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.


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How would Hudson feel about an aquarium date with Ray? :3

I’ve heard Ray likes the stingrays

Hudson would feel a little uneasy, due to all the families that are probably there, screaming and crowding.

 However, he would focus on trying to relax and even admiring the fish. He would definitely like lionfish and any sea worm looking thing. He would also probably pull Ray into a quiet spot and steal kisses from him because why not :3


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Hudson frowned, looking unsure what to say.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said softly, sighing. He gave Ray's hand a squeeze, before tilting his head away to cough, still a little bothered by the fact he got stabbed in the chest. Again.

He cleared his throat and turned back to Ray, still concerned.

He shook his head, before letting his forehead press against Ray's chest. "I should've been there..." he muttered, feeling bitter and defeated. He closed his eyelids, the lights dimming at the action.

"You smell like cigarettes, by the way. I didn't know you smoked," he said, arching a brow and staring up at his lover. "Y'know that isn't good for your lungs, chéri."

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.


Tags
So @justuravghazbin Helped With The Shape Of The Face And Let Me Draw This Of Hudson. So I Hope You Like

So @justuravghazbin helped with the shape of the face and let me draw this of Hudson. So I hope you like it.

Oh my goodness! This looks amazing :O

Well done! Not many people show their teeth like this (and the teeth are one of his best features as a ghost)!

Thank you and Archer for this! This is very swell!


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AHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS I LOVE RAY AND YOUR ART WORK IT'S ALL SO GOOD WHYYYYYYYYY *rolling around on the ground*

Cigarette usage!

Cigarette Usage!

Google translate was used for the French translation so I’m sorry if I’ve offended any French-speakers • m •

Feat. Ray’s natural hair! He dyed it red when he moved out at around 18 and dyed it back shortly after Hudson died went missing.


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Rough Day At The Office.

Rough Day At The Office.

"Eh....sorry to hear you had a rough day. If it helps, I could totally kick your director's ass and steal his keys."

"No?"

"Well, then what do you want?"

"Oh. Okay then. I suppose I can do that. Come here."

"You're going to be fine. Tomorrow is another day. Hell, you were brave to survive today."

"So get some rest. You desrve it."

"I can still kick his ass, just say the word. No? Okay, okay, I'll shut up now."

@thelocalmoth (how do you like the boys? :3)


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How Does Hudson React,,,,when Comes Into Contact With Biscuits...

How does Hudson react,,,,when comes into contact with Biscuits...

(Artist:, this my first time introducing my oc on to Tumblr 😅, testing waters mainly)

How Does Hudson React,,,,when Comes Into Contact With Biscuits...

Ghost Hudson would be confused.

Reg Hudson wouldn't trust them.

And Scout Hudson would probably like to pet them.

(Hello! Sorry it took so long for me to respond to your ask! Biscuits look amazing! I hope to see more artwork of them)


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