Latest Posts by unnoticedunawarestillhere - Page 14

SO. THE POLL HAS SPOKEN. MOST OF YOU WANTED A SHORT STORY ABOUT SAMMY LAWRENCE, SO HERE IT IS. PLEASE LIKE IT. I spent a lot of time on it.

How Could You?

“Mister Lawrence?”

I turned around, only to be met with my apprentice. He shuffled awkwardly, half of him hiding beneath the door. I then stared hard at my desk, letting out a sigh. Without meaning to, I dropped my book, music sheets spilling onto the floor. The yellowing papers swept up dust on the floorboards, I only narrowed my eyes at this. “What do you want, Johnny?” I muttered, kicking off my chair to retrieve the papers. I heard him slowly cracking my office door wide open and taking a few steps in.  Bending down, my hands furiously grabbed the scattered papers. I didn’t look at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but the band is waiting for you.” He said meekly. His British accent caught me off guard. I stood up, carelessly plopping the bundle of papers on my desk. I turned to him, an eyebrow raised. Today, he was dressed in a pale blue vest, buttoned up white collar shirt and brown slacks. I groaned, “Can’t they just warm up right now?” He hesitated, before he spoke, “They’ve been doing that, but..they’re getting impatient.” He nervously blew his light chestnut hair out of his face. I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to yell. “Then tell them to wait.” I growled. Johnny frowned, avoiding eye contact with me. In a small voice he responded, “You said that…two hours ago.” Silence. 

I stormed through the vacant hallways, not even waiting for Johnny. Posters were plastered every four feet it seemed. With their cartoonish style, they all stared at me and smiled. This only fed my annoyance. The lights above me flickered and buzzed, making my shadow grow long behind me.

 God, my head hurts. Even though my feet were slamming down on the creaky wooden boards, I could hear Johnny jogging after me. “Mister Lawrence, wait up! I’m sure we could make a compromise with the band, maybe even-” “ENOUGH.” I barked at him. Irritation makes a nest inside my brain. Though, deep down, I do feel a little guilty. Trying to simmer down, I cleared my throat. “Johnny, is your brother already in his booth?” I asked, making a sharp left turn.  He hurried after, finally keeping up with my pace. “Last time I checked, yeah. Though, he was pretty mad that you didn’t show up.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Honestly, it felt like without me, the whole god damn music department would explode. “Tch-well, he better be there.” I huffed. 

Before Johnny could answer, I halted only to be met with a chattering river of musicians flooding out of the music department. Baffled, I yelled at one of the passing tuba players, Rick. “Mister Hoffleman! Where the hell are you-” With dark glaring green eyes, the middle aged man snapped at me, “Shut yer yap, Lawrence! It’s been two months of the same shit ya make us go through. Well, we’re tired of it.” He growled at me, his southern accent lacing his words. I recoiled back, almost stumbling into Johnny! If Johnny apologized, I couldn’t hear it. Not when my blood was roaring in my ears. I watched Rick stomp away, his brown suit jacket hanging from his shoulder.  I didn’t even notice that my jaw was hanging wide open, until Johnny quietly mentioned it to me.  I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t command them to stay. I just stood there, and while I did, lots of folks hissed complaints and glares at me when they passed by. Is this what it feels like? To be powerless? I don’t know why I’m so surprised. I’ve felt this before. When he left.

Turns out, Norman was still in his booth, packing up his projector. Even though the booth was mostly consumed by lingering shadows, we could hear him shuffling around.  I stared up at him, only for him to swing around and glare from above.  “Oh great, the all mighty composer finally arrived.” He said flatly, his dark grey eyes narrowing. With a grunt, he placed the metal projector on a rusted steel cart. “Polk, what happened?” I yelled, still looking up at the booth.  The shadows answered with another grunt, “Whaddya mean what happened, Lawrence? They’re fed up.” A pause. When I didn’t answer, he continued, “Look, I dunno what you’ve been doin these past months, but Jesus, can’t ya just compose the band ON TIME??  Some days, the doors are locked and no one can get in. Why? ‘Cause ya keep forgettin to unlock ‘em. Meaning WE can’t do what we need to do.” I felt my stomach tightened while my fists were clenched. “Can’t you just get Franks to unlock the damn door?” I retorted hotly. “Kid keeps forgettin his keys.” He replied with a monotone voice. I let out an exasperated sigh, feeling my nerves being shot left and right. Norman said nothing else and with that I turned around. I  watched Johnny struggling to gather all the music stands. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to him and helped him put them away in the storage room.  I didn’t say anything. Despite how clumsy or frantic this kid is, I didn’t hate him. He’s a good apprentice.

 Well, decent anyway. 

After stacking up the chairs and cautiously putting instruments in their cases, we were done. During that whole time, I didn’t mutter a word. I was too absorbed in my thoughts.  Was working with Mister Drew on his project really making me digress  from what needs to be done? Surely, I could balance them both. Right? No. I couldn’t and today proved that. Bitter disappointment felt like a knife in my gut, wedging itself further and further in.  I felt something sting my eyes, rubbing them. Jesus, was I so powerless that I was having a stupid CRYING FIT?! I muttered something to myself, when suddenly, I felt a gentle hand clamped on my shoulder. “It’s okay to cry, Mister Lawrence! It’s..it’s been a tough day, but..there’s always tomorrow!” Johnny exclaimed, his eyes brightening.  I stared at him for a moment, actually looking at him. His face looked similar to Normans, same nose, and structure.  Light chestnut hair with streaks of dark brown while his eyes..well. One was dark grey, like Norman, but his other eye was a dark auburn.  Wasn’t that called.. Heterochromia? I think that's what it's called.

Anyhow, he just smiled at me sympathetically.  Without thinking, I smiled back at him.  “I..suppose you’re right.” I said, nodding curtly. He slipped his hand off my shoulder and walked over to the piano. “So, about that music sheet you sent me home with yesterday, I practiced it and I think I got it?” He smiled, sitting down on the chair and straightening his composure.  I was stunned. He practiced it? Hell, I didn’t even tell him to do that. Though, of course, I was skeptical.  I pulled up a stool and gestured for him to start. He cracked his fingers, staring down at the keys and gave it his all. There were a few slip ups, but I was impressed at how beautiful the melody was. And how Johnny was so focused on the piece. When he was done, he paused, before hesitantly turning his head to look at me.  I stood up from my wooden stool and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Good work.” I praised, smiling at him slightly. 

I swear his eyes lit like bright stars. I was proud of him. Even though I failed the band, I didn’t fail him.  Until…I did. 

It’s been a few months since that moment. 

I looked at my shaking right hand, a smoking pistol was tightly in my grasp. 

Oh Johnny. I’m so sorry.

I’m 

      So

               Sorry

How Could You?

“Mister Lawrence?”

I turned around, only to be met with my apprentice. He shuffled awkwardly, half of him hiding beneath the door. I then stared hard at my desk, letting out a sigh. Without meaning to, I dropped my book, music sheets spilling onto the floor. The yellowing papers swept up dust on the floorboards, I only narrowed my eyes at this. “What do you want, Johnny?” I muttered, kicking off my chair to retrieve the papers. I heard him slowly cracking my office door wide open and taking a few steps in.  Bending down, my hands furiously grabbed the scattered papers. I didn’t look at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but the band is waiting for you.” He said meekly. His British accent caught me off guard. I stood up, carelessly plopping the bundle of papers on my desk. I turned to him, an eyebrow raised. Today, he was dressed in a pale blue vest, buttoned up white collar shirt and brown slacks. I groaned, “Can’t they just warm up right now?” He hesitated, before he spoke, “They’ve been doing that, but..they’re getting impatient.” He nervously blew his light chestnut hair out of his face. I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to yell. “Then tell them to wait.” I growled. Johnny frowned, avoiding eye contact with me. In a small voice he responded, “You said that…two hours ago.” Silence. 

I stormed through the vacant hallways, not even waiting for Johnny. Posters were plastered every four feet it seemed. With their cartoonish style, they all stared at me and smiled. This only fed my annoyance. The lights above me flickered and buzzed, making my shadow grow long behind me.

 God, my head hurts. Even though my feet were slamming down on the creaky wooden boards, I could hear Johnny jogging after me. “Mister Lawrence, wait up! I’m sure we could make a compromise with the band, maybe even-” “ENOUGH.” I barked at him. Irritation makes a nest inside my brain. Though, deep down, I do feel a little guilty. Trying to simmer down, I cleared my throat. “Johnny, is your brother already in his booth?” I asked, making a sharp left turn.  He hurried after, finally keeping up with my pace. “Last time I checked, yeah. Though, he was pretty mad that you didn’t show up.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Honestly, it felt like without me, the whole god damn music department would explode. “Tch-well, he better be there.” I huffed. 

Before Johnny could answer, I halted only to be met with a chattering river of musicians flooding out of the music department. Baffled, I yelled at one of the passing tuba players, Rick. “Mister Hoffleman! Where the hell are you-” With dark glaring green eyes, the middle aged man snapped at me, “Shut yer yap, Lawrence! It’s been two months of the same shit ya make us go through. Well, we’re tired of it.” He growled at me, his southern accent lacing his words. I recoiled back, almost stumbling into Johnny! If Johnny apologized, I couldn’t hear it. Not when my blood was roaring in my ears. I watched Rick stomp away, his brown suit jacket hanging from his shoulder.  I didn’t even notice that my jaw was hanging wide open, until Johnny quietly mentioned it to me.  I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t command them to stay. I just stood there, and while I did, lots of folks hissed complaints and glares at me when they passed by. Is this what it feels like? To be powerless? I don’t know why I’m so surprised. I’ve felt this before. When he left.

Turns out, Norman was still in his booth, packing up his projector. Even though the booth was mostly consumed by lingering shadows, we could hear him shuffling around.  I stared up at him, only for him to swing around and glare from above.  “Oh great, the all mighty composer finally arrived.” He said flatly, his dark grey eyes narrowing. With a grunt, he placed the metal projector on a rusted steel cart. “Polk, what happened?” I yelled, still looking up at the booth.  The shadows answered with another grunt, “Whaddya mean what happened, Lawrence? They’re fed up.” A pause. When I didn’t answer, he continued, “Look, I dunno what you’ve been doin these past months, but Jesus, can’t ya just compose the band ON TIME??  Some days, the doors are locked and no one can get in. Why? ‘Cause ya keep forgettin to unlock ‘em. Meaning WE can’t do what we need to do.” I felt my stomach tightened while my fists were clenched. “Can’t you just get Franks to unlock the damn door?” I retorted hotly. “Kid keeps forgettin his keys.” He replied with a monotone voice. I let out an exasperated sigh, feeling my nerves being shot left and right. Norman said nothing else and with that I turned around. I  watched Johnny struggling to gather all the music stands. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to him and helped him put them away in the storage room.  I didn’t say anything. Despite how clumsy or frantic this kid is, I didn’t hate him. He’s a good apprentice.

 Well, decent anyway. 

After stacking up the chairs and cautiously putting instruments in their cases, we were done. During that whole time, I didn’t mutter a word. I was too absorbed in my thoughts.  Was working with Mister Drew on his project really making me digress  from what needs to be done? Surely, I could balance them both. Right? No. I couldn’t and today proved that. Bitter disappointment felt like a knife in my gut, wedging itself further and further in.  I felt something sting my eyes, rubbing them. Jesus, was I so powerless that I was having a stupid CRYING FIT?! I muttered something to myself, when suddenly, I felt a gentle hand clamped on my shoulder. “It’s okay to cry, Mister Lawrence! It’s..it’s been a tough day, but..there’s always tomorrow!” Johnny exclaimed, his eyes brightening.  I stared at him for a moment, actually looking at him. His face looked similar to Normans, same nose, and structure.  Light chestnut hair with streaks of dark brown while his eyes..well. One was dark grey, like Norman, but his other eye was a dark auburn.  Wasn’t that called.. Heterochromia? I think that's what it's called.

Anyhow, he just smiled at me sympathetically.  Without thinking, I smiled back at him.  “I..suppose you’re right.” I said, nodding curtly. He slipped his hand off my shoulder and walked over to the piano. “So, about that music sheet you sent me home with yesterday, I practiced it and I think I got it?” He smiled, sitting down on the chair and straightening his composure.  I was stunned. He practiced it? Hell, I didn’t even tell him to do that. Though, of course, I was skeptical.  I pulled up a stool and gestured for him to start. He cracked his fingers, staring down at the keys and gave it his all. There were a few slip ups, but I was impressed at how beautiful the melody was. And how Johnny was so focused on the piece. When he was done, he paused, before hesitantly turning his head to look at me.  I stood up from my wooden stool and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Good work.” I praised, smiling at him slightly. 

I swear his eyes lit like bright stars. I was proud of him. Even though I failed the band, I didn’t fail him.  Until…I did. 

It’s been a few months since that moment. 

I looked at my shaking right hand, a smoking pistol was tightly in my grasp. 

Oh Johnny. I’m so sorry.

I’m 

      So

               Sorry

"Hello there! I'm Hudson. How can I help?"

I work in the writers department, though writing isn't my only interest. I also like volunteering to voice act and draw in my free time. I'm the only Canadian in the writers department (that I know of). I enjoy listening to Mister Fain's and Mister Lawrence's music. It helps take my mind off of those blasted GENT pipes.

(Hudson doesn't have an ink form when the studio goes to shit, only a ghost form)

(Untilted's Note: Hudson is my BATIM Sona that I use when I'm role playing. As a Sona, he represents me! However, there are a few things that don't represent me: He's 18. I'm not 18 yet. He's 5'5. I wish I was that tall, but no. Hudson isn't my real name, but I'm absolutely okay if you call me that regardless if you're role playing. I just wanted to let you all know. )

(Feel free role play with my BATIM Sona! He and I don't bite. HOWEVER, if you say anything nasty, you will be ignored or blocked. If you've seen my intro, you know what I don't tolerate. You can catch Hudson interacting in BATIM ask blogs, such as:

@ask-thelyricist

@asknorman-polk

@asksamuellawrence

and probably more! (Btw please check out these guys, they're pretty cool ^ ^. I feel like I should mention this, Hudson's tag is: Writer Hudson. I know. SO original XD.)

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HOW ARE YOUUUUUUUUUUUU

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIi

AMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD :D

Hello dear friends ! ❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

All positive words can't show how generous you are, especially on the side of sharing my posts to let other donors know about the people of Gaza who are still suffering the horrible circumstances resulting from the injust war on Gaza! 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸❤🤍💚🖤

Thank you from the deepest bottom of my heart for the support you are showing to help Palestinian families stay safe and alive.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Despite the various colours of sufferings and tortures we are undergoing at the moment, your brave stances and support greatly ease and relieve us . Your loud voices and your heroic acts make a great difference to our Palestinian cause. 🖤💚🤍❤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

We are fundraising such donations to have the least basic needs of life and to help find safety and peace for the little kids who don't deserve to lead such horrific situations.

Thanks to your contribution, my family is on its halfway to reach the goal. All forms of your help make a difference to free the people who have been struggling and paying much for almost 300 hard days. ✌✌✌🖤💚🤍❤🇵🇸🇵🇸

Please keep supporting the fairest cause of the world either by directly donating or sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in tough and dire times till the black days end.

I'm really sorry I can't donate, but I'll try spreading the word

Reblog if it's okay to befriend you, ask questions, ask for advice, rant, vent, let something off your chest, or just have a nice chat.

Sent from above!

AHHHH NO PLEASE DON'T CRY D: NOOOOOO

Bendy Inktober Day Four: Behind the Scenes

I can’t draw characters crying

This is so freaking relatable :"D

ARTBLOCK

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.

EVERYONE SEND THIS TO YOUR FRIENDS IF YOU HAVE TO. VOTESSSSSSSSSSS :00

I DESPERATELY WANT ASKS OR DRAWING REQUESTS FOR MY AU >:DD

Reblog if you want Asks/Messages from your followers in your inbox

...do you want some good old Canadian tap water? :3 ^ ^u

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?

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?

THANK YOU ALL <3 :"D (I'm smiling rn ^ ^)

Today is actually my birthday! ^ ^ SO MY BIRTHDAY WISH IS: TO ALL WHO ARE IN THE BATIM/BATDR PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!! To those who aren't, you're still important <3

Today is actually my birthday! ^ ^ SO MY BIRTHDAY WISH IS: TO ALL WHO ARE IN THE BATIM/BATDR PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!! To those who aren't, you're still important <3

G0retober 2024 Day 1: c@nnibalisms

I wanted to do one of those October art challenges so uhh g0retober it is because inktobers prompt list sucks

Here is my oc from Pressure! Meet Nigel Dexter! He was a scientist who took a long vacation, only to come back and be met with a "vacant" work place (literally no one informed him that shit happened). Is the type of guy to wear Hawaiian shirts on any occasion. (Also: he died due to wall dwellers. Very sad :( ) I'M SO SORRY FOR RANTING I COULDN'T RESIST TALKING ABT HIM

I want to draw Pressure OCS/AUs so bad aaaaaa

Please reblog with an image of them or you can message me!

These are completely free!

(just note I have a hard time with snouts but I can work around it!)

(if you offer characters that aren't pressure OCS I will ignore you sorry fjdh)

i require more art of jimmy, please :3

And a Jimmy you shall receive! A fun fact about Jimmy is he's trans! (F to M) ^ ^

Piece of shit didn't pay his bills.

Drew them interacting in my au

Tom accidentally racked up the electricity bill . Grant ain't happy, folks.

I still can’t get over the fact that Grant thinks the gent boys are creepy while Tom called him “mangy” so I had to draw them interacting😭

Someone please draw them interacting more cause my motivation went all the way down😔

Anyways justice for grant everyone keeps being so obnoxious to him

The replacement .

DON'T FORGET TO VOTE FOLKS! :D

PEOPLE GO READ THIS PLEASE!! IT IS AMAZING. THE WRITER IS AMAZING. gashvahyjsd IT IS ALL AMAZING

continuation from this post

after like two months of (initial) writing and drawing i finally finished the fic!! everyone clap for me profusely (if you want i Guess)

standing at now 38 pages on docs (including images) with a grand total of 13,449 words, i present the first chapter of the longest piece of media i've ever written for anything ever (the neuro is diverging)

Coffee Breath (1419 words) by r0zzk1ll Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: Bendy and the Ink Machine Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sammy Lawrence/Norman Polk, Sammy Lawrence & Norman Polk Characters: Sammy Lawrence, Norman Polk, Wally Franks, Thomas Connor (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Jack Fain, Lacie Benton (mentioned), Susie Campbell (mentioned), Allison Pendle (mentioned) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, Sammy Lawrence is trans, and heavily autistic, Non-Canon Appearances, First Kiss, Period-Typical Homophobia, Coffee Shop, Denial of Feelings, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Tension, Eventual Happy Ending, Headcannoned backstories, Middle aged men acting like high school girls with crushes (Joke), Norman Polk Has ADHD

Summary: Sammy's working late tonight and thinks he's alone, but unbeknownst to him, he's met with a very familiar face when the power goes out. Follow Sammy Lawrence and Norman Polk on an adventure into Joey Drew Studios as they traverse the miserable powerless studio together by pure coincidence, and find out aspects about each other they hadn't known before. Additionally, they learn things about themselves that hadn't been clearer to either party, changing everything for their relationship in the near distant future.

CONTAINS ILLUSTRATIONS!

copied from ao3

i will be updating the fic as i go on, adding more chapters and tweaking things so Stay tuned!!! #booyah

"Whatcha looking at, Henry?"

(Decided to redesign Sammy just a bit)

You asked me so I'm gonna ask you the same, Who's your favorite Bendy Character?

OH GOD UH...I'ma say Norman Polk OR Wally Franks!

If it was my AU, it would be: Norman and Johnny

My favourite characters used to be: Shawn Flynn or Henry Stein (still love them, but now it's a healthy amount XD)

•Normalize Fanart for Fanfics Again You Fools•

It's not cringe anymore (it SHOULDN'T be cringe anymore), just do it. You're doing something you enjoy, who cares what anybody else says! So spread the words my fellow internet brethren.

Spread the Word :)