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What if Felix had a child from another relationship?
How would she get used to her new family?
What if...
Felix had always told himself that Oscar would change. That the cruel words, the heavy hand, the nights of betrayal weren’t who he really was—that love could fix what was broken. When Oscar got down on one knee, Felix said “yes,” clinging desperately to the dream of a future where love would make them whole.
When Athena was born, Felix thought that miracle would anchor Oscar, would soften him. And though Felix loved his daughter more fiercely than he had ever loved anything, Oscar’s cruelty only grew. His temper snapped quicker, his hands landed harder, his betrayals cut deeper.
But when Oscar’s rage turned toward Athena, Felix always stepped between. He would take the punishment himself, swallowing the pain, while Athena clutched her stuffed rabbit and sobbed in the corner. Every time, Felix’s heart cracked further.
The divorce was chaos. Oscar wanted custody—not for love of Athena, but for control. Felix fought until his bones shook. And then, in the end, he gave everything away—his business, his wealth, his books, his job, his name. He signed it all over just for one clause: sole custody of Athena.
He walked away with nothing but his daughter and a quiet vow: She’ll never suffer again.
But Oscar’s shadow lingered.
Athena was small, quiet, afraid. She jumped at every knock on the door, every raised voice. She rarely smiled, rarely played, and clung to Felix’s side with desperate little fists. Watching her childhood slip away broke Felix’s heart daily.
He tried everything—therapy sessions for them both, gentle routines, nights spent reading aloud until his throat ached. He held her through nightmares, whispered love until she drifted off again. Slowly, slowly, she began to trust the world outside their little apartment. But laughter? That seemed gone forever.
Then Felix met Oswald.
Oswald had suffered too—he had lost his wife to the ink illness, left to raise his own children alone. He carried his grief with quiet strength, never bitter, only patient. There was something in his steady presence that drew Felix in. They spoke first in short conversations—passing words at a bookstore, then coffee shared, then long evenings just talking.
Oswald never pushed, never judged. He laughed easily, listened deeply, and somehow, without trying, made Felix feel lighter. For the first time in years, Felix caught himself smiling without forcing it.
As their bond grew, Felix began to wonder what it might be like if Athena could meet Oswald’s children. The thought terrified him—Athena was terrified of other kids, of strangers. What if it backfired? What if it made her retreat further?
One evening, voice shaking, Felix confessed everything to Oswald. The abuse, the divorce, Athena’s fears. And then, timidly, he asked: “Would it be okay… if she met you and your children someday?”
Oswald didn’t even pause. He took Felix’s trembling hand in his own and said softly, “Felix, she’s part of you. That makes her part of us. Bring her. We’ll take it slow.”
The day came.
Felix’s heart pounded as he carried Athena to Oswald’s home. She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing before they’d even knocked. Felix whispered comfort, though his own nerves were a storm.
Oswald opened the door gently, crouching to her level with a warm smile. With a flourish, he pulled a shiny coin from behind her ear, making her peek out in surprise. Then with a snap of his fingers—poof!—a small parade of bunnies hopped across the floor, squeaking cheerfully.
Athena blinked, tears still clinging to her lashes, but curiosity sparked in her wide eyes.
Felix kissed her hair. “You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart. If you want to stay with me, you can. But… maybe you could try? Just a little?”
She clung tighter for a moment, trembling. Then, slowly, hesitantly, she slid down from his arms.
The bunnies twirled, holding up a banner that read “Come play!”
Athena stared. One small step. Then another. When a bunny rolled over like a clumsy puppy, she let out a tiny giggle.
Felix froze. It had been so long since he heard that sound, he thought he’d imagined it. Tears blurred his vision as he watched her chase the bunnies, laughter spilling from her like sunlight breaking through clouds.
Felix pressed his hand over his mouth, sobbing silently, shoulders shaking. Oswald stood beside him, resting a steady hand on his shoulder. “She just needed a little light,” he murmured. “And you gave her that.”
Felix couldn’t even answer—he just nodded, tears streaming as his daughter played freely for the first time in years.
That day became the first of many.
Every week, Felix and Athena visited Oswald and his children. At first, Athena clung to Felix after each play session, whispering in his ear how nervous she still was. But as weeks passed, she laughed more, ran faster, and began to trust the others.
Felix noticed how she looked forward to their visits—how she’d whisper shyly as they left, “I love playing with them, Papa… can we come back?”
And of course, Felix always said yes.
What began as tentative visits turned into routine. Afternoons of play, evenings of shared dinners. Athena grew braver. Oswald’s children adored her, including her without hesitation. Slowly, the shadow of Oscar’s cruelty began to fade.
And Felix—once hollow, once broken—began to heal too. Oswald’s kindness, his patience, the way he gently welcomed Athena as though she had always belonged—it was more than Felix had dared dream of.
One night, after the children were asleep, Felix and Oswald sat quietly by the fireplace. Their hands brushed, then held, and Felix felt something deep within him settle. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel like a man surviving. He felt like a man living.
As months passed, laughter filled the walls. Dinner tables crowded with chatter. Felix’s daughter and Oswald’s children grew inseparable. And Felix and Oswald… they grew inseparable too.
Until, one evening, as Athena whispered against Felix’s ear after another day of joy, “Papa… I love playing with them. I love it here…” Felix realized the truth.
They weren’t just two families visiting each other anymore.
They had become one.
#babtqftim#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#short story#What if#felix the cat#osix#bendy#felix x oswald#felix kids#oswald x felix#Od#oswald kids#oswald the lucky rabbit#bunny kids
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Safe Between Us
The house was quiet, wrapped in the soft stillness of night. Cuphead and Bendy had just finished their nightly ritual—tucking the kids into bed, smoothing down blankets, and planting goodnight kisses on small foreheads. The two finally slipped under their own covers, curling against one another as the long day melted away.
Sometime past midnight, the faintest sound of tiny footsteps padded across the floor. Mady, their middle child, stood at the edge of the big bed, clutching her little blanket, wide-eyed and trembling from some forgotten nightmare. She didn’t say a word—she just stared up at the height of the mattress, trying her best to climb on her own.
In the half-dark, Bendy’s eyes fluttered open. Without a word, his tail snaked down from the bed and gently curled around Mady’s waist, lifting her up as though she weighed nothing at all. She gave a tiny squeak of surprise, then giggled softly when she landed safe and snug between them.
Immediately, Mady rolled into Cuphead’s side, burying her face into his chest as though he could chase away every shadow. Cup’s arms came around her instinctively, holding her close, his lips brushing the top of her head.
Bendy shuffled closer too, draping an arm over both of them, his tail curling protectively along the edge of the blanket. He pressed a gentle kiss to Mady’s cheek, then another to Cuphead’s temple, before closing his eyes again.
Within moments, the three of them were cocooned together, the warmth of their little girl pressed safe between them.
And as sleep pulled them under again, Cuphead and Bendy both felt the same quiet peace—knowing that nothing in the world could touch their child while she slept shielded in their arms.
#babtqftim#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#headcanon#short story#cuphead#bendy#bendystraw#bendy x cuphead#cuphead x bendy#mady
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What do you guys say??
Should I do a full look of ALL Felix’s tattoos??
Here a drawing for the now dead account...
Just a lazy cat

#babtqftim#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#felix the cat#drawing#sketch#poll#i really want to do it
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Here a drawing for the now dead account...
Just a lazy cat

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Waves of Home
The camp was quiet except for the distant rush of the tide. The Questers had set up for the night along the rocky coast, their tents forming a half-circle against the gentle wind. The salty air mixed with the scent of pine and smoke as Bendy, Boris, and Felix worked together to get the campfire going—Felix carefully stacking driftwood, Boris hauling in armfuls of sticks, and Bendy crouched low, coaxing the flame to life with exaggerated dramatic flair.
Cuphead and Mugman had wandered off, drawn by the call of the ocean. The fading sunlight bathed the world in orange and gold, the horizon melting into the sea. They walked in silence for a while, the soft crunch of sand beneath their feet the only sound between them.
When the shoreline met the shallows, Mugman stepped further in, letting the cool water lap against his ankles. The sand beneath him darkened and softened, and with a quiet sigh, he lowered himself onto the wet shore, leaning back so that the waves rolled over his legs and the ocean kissed his skin.
Cuphead watched him for a moment before joining, sitting close enough that their shoulders brushed. Together, they closed their eyes, letting the rhythm of the tide wash over them.
The sound of the waves pulled them back—back to the Inkwell Isles. Back to summers when they’d spend entire days by the beach, chasing each other along the shore, daring each other into deeper waters, laughing until their stomachs hurt. The days when the only thing that mattered was whether the tide would bring in a shell or a starfish, when the world was no bigger than the stretch of sand in front of their house.
The memory wrapped around them like a warm blanket. It made their chests ache, but in a way that was sweet, not bitter. They smiled, both of them feeling the same quiet truth—they missed home. And more than anything, they wanted to see it again.
The waves whispered against the sand, steady and endless, like a promise.
And for the first time in a long while, hope felt close enough to touch.
#babtqftim#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#headcanon#short story#felix the cat#cuphead#bendy#boris the wolf#Mugman#siblings
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Since you do story’s inspired by songs then can you do a bendystraw story with the song “break up with your girlfriend, I’m bored” by Ariana grande. Ik you don’t condone cheating but if it would fun and crazy if Cuphead was the telling bendy to break up with his gf 😝
Between the Lines
The cabin was quiet, the only light coming from the crackling fireplace. Outside, the world was asleep, but inside, the air pulsed with something far from restful.
Bendy sat slouched on the couch, strumming idly at his guitar, the faint notes of the song spilling into the room. It was the one Cuphead had mentioned earlier—the one that had been playing in his head all day.
Cuphead leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him. “You know,” he said with a sly tilt of his head, “that song… it’s about wanting something you can’t have. Or… maybe having it, but not the way you want.”
Bendy smirked without looking up. “You reading too much into it, Red.”
“Am I?” Cuphead stepped closer, slow enough that the tension in the room thickened. “Or maybe I just know what it’s like… wanting someone to finally admit they’d be happier with me.”
Bendy’s fingers faltered on the strings. He glanced up, and for a moment, the firelight caught something unguarded in his eyes. “You’re playing with fire.”
Cuphead chuckled low. “Good thing I like the heat.” He moved in, close enough for their knees to almost touch, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You’re wasting your time with her, Bend. You know we’d be unstoppable together… You feel it, right?”
Bendy didn’t answer right away, but the way his breath caught spoke louder than words. Cuphead reached out, fingers brushing against his, lingering just enough to send a shiver up his spine.
One look. That’s all it took.
Bendy set the guitar aside, and suddenly the space between them was gone. The kiss was rough at first, desperate, the kind that had been building for far too long. Cuphead’s hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, while Bendy’s fingers gripped his shirt like he was afraid to let go.
When they finally broke for air, foreheads pressed together, Cuphead whispered, almost teasing but with that deep ache underneath— “Tell me you’re mine… and I’ll never make you regret it.”
The fire popped in the hearth, shadows dancing across the walls, and whatever came next was inevitable.
#babtqftim#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#short story#bendy#Cuphead#cuphead x bendy#bendy x cuphead#bendystraw
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Mitsukou as bendystraw nation wya…pls dont let me be the only one 🙏
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Mitsukou as bendystraw nation wya…pls dont let me be the only one 🙏
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BABITTOC drawing (It’s also a redraw)

the old drawing

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The Rose That Stayed
It happened on an ordinary afternoon, the kind where sunlight spilled lazily through the windows and dust floated in golden streams. Cuphead had just come home from work, shoulders aching, mind cluttered. He didn’t expect to find Bendy waiting at the door, a bouquet in his hands.
The flowers were fresh and vibrant—roses, daisies, baby’s breath—all carefully arranged, wrapped in a pale ribbon. Bendy, smiling with that playful-but-soft glimmer in his eyes, extended them. "My love for you will die when these flowers die," he said, voice low and warm.
At first, Cuphead’s chest fluttered at the romance of it. He thought it was sweet—almost poetically tragic. But as he held the bouquet, feeling the weight of Bendy’s words, something in him trembled. If the flowers wilted… it meant the love they symbolized would too. And Cuphead didn’t want to imagine a world where Bendy’s love was gone.
From that day on, Cuphead made it his mission. Every morning, before breakfast, he checked the petals for any sign of dryness. Every night, before bed, he trimmed the stems and refreshed the water. He rotated the vase so each flower had its fair share of sunlight. He even whispered to them sometimes—quiet, silly little things like, “You’re doing great… just stay with me a little longer.”
Weeks passed. The flowers began to fade, one by one. Cuphead fought it desperately—adjusting their position, changing the vase, even researching tricks online. But time was unkind, and no matter how much he tried, petals shriveled, stems bent, colors dulled.
One quiet morning, months later, Cuphead spotted it from the corner of his eye: the bouquet, drooping in its vase. His heart clenched. A lump rose in his throat. He crossed the room slowly, almost afraid to look too closely.
But as he reached the bouquet, something caught his attention. In the middle of all the withered flowers… one rose still stood tall, its petals perfectly red, unbothered by time. Confused, Cuphead reached for it—and froze when he felt its texture.
Plastic.
Cuphead’s eyes widened, a sudden heat flooding his chest. He could almost see Bendy’s smirk as he’d arranged the bouquet, slipping that one rose in without a word.
His love… wasn’t meant to fade. It wasn’t a fragile thing tied to the lifespan of flowers. It was steady, stubborn, and everlasting—just like this little red rose.
Cuphead brought it close to his mouth, lips curling into a shaky smile. “You’re such an idiot,” he whispered fondly, before pressing a kiss to it.
The plastic was cool against his lips, but all he could feel was the warmth in his heart. Because Bendy’s heart—plastic rose and all—belonged to him, and him alone.
#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#babtqftim#headcanon#short story#cuphead#bendy#cuphead x bendy#bendystraw#bendy x cuphead
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Cuphead is a famous model while bendy is his photographer. Cuphead is doing a photo shoot for a famous magazine but he is too busy flirting with bendy and as much as bendy LOVES IT he just wants to finish the photo shoot and maybe ask cup on a date
Picture Perfect
The bright lights of the studio bounced off every angle of Cuphead’s sharp jawline, catching on the smooth curve of his cheekbones. The crew scurried around, fussing over lighting and wardrobe, but Cuphead’s focus wasn’t on the camera. It was on the man behind it.
Bendy stood there, camera in hand, professional to the core—or at least he was trying to be. The little smirk he always wore had softened today, replaced by a concentrated frown as he adjusted his lens. Cuphead found it adorable. Dangerous, even.
"Alright, Cup, tilt your chin a little—no, not towards me—"
Cuphead grinned and tilted it exactly towards him. “Like this?” he teased, eyes glinting.
Bendy’s ears flushed. “No, not like that,” he muttered, trying to refocus on the shoot.
Cuphead took a slow step forward, his voice dropping just enough so the others wouldn’t hear. “You know, I think I’d look better if you smiled at me.”
Bendy’s fingers twitched around the camera. “We’re supposed to be taking photos here, not—whatever you’re trying to pull.”
“Oh, I’m just trying to keep my favorite photographer in a good mood,” Cuphead said with a lazy wink.
Bendy tried not to laugh, but a quiet chuckle escaped before he could stop it. “You’re impossible, Cup.”
Cuphead leaned in slightly, whispering so close Bendy could feel the warmth of his breath. “Maybe I’m just trying to make sure my pictures are worth remembering.”
Bendy swallowed, adjusting the focus again—anything to keep his hands from shaking. “If you’d hold still for five minutes, maybe they’d be done by now.”
Cuphead finally relented, striking the perfect pose, but that charming smirk never left his face. His eyes still followed Bendy with every click of the camera, as if no one else existed in the room.
By the time the shoot wrapped, Bendy was gathering his things, already imagining a quiet evening alone to recover from all the… distraction.
That’s when Cuphead strolled over, all easy confidence. “So,” he said casually, “you’re free after this, right?”
Bendy blinked. “Why?”
Cuphead gave him that heart-melting grin again. “Because I think it’s about time your favorite model took you out for dinner.”
Bendy’s cheeks warmed, but this time he didn’t try to hide it. “Alright… but only if you promise not to flirt with the waiter.”
“No promises,” Cuphead said with a laugh, “but I will save my best lines for you.”
#babtqftim#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#short story#cuphead#bendy#bendystraw#cuphead x bendy#bendy x cuphead
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I totally love this ❤️
With him being like a plushy, and imagine if he reach to hug you, God bless the person who sleeps with him.
It will be fun to see him sleep with Boris and him being completely different to Bendy
Hc that Bendy is a really nice person to sleep with. He’s soft like a plushy and you’re guaranteed to have a nice dream.
Anyway who should I write about sleeping with Bendy?
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Oh God is horrible
Love it tho


Ur wlcm @ruru195 🥰
Mwhahahahhahahahha >:3
So evil of me
#this is a joke#sillyposting#babqftim#babqftim au#babtqftim#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#digital art#quest bendy#Not my art#art reblog
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HEY, YOU, BABTQFTIM, CASINO AND COMEDIA CUPS FAN!
WE HAVE A SERVER FOR YOU
MYSTERY CASINO OF INK MACHINE ITS GONNA BE YOUR NEW HOME 🫵🫵🫵
Created by @mexicankumi, @mayetsv, @dexye, Chokochiz, Crazybunny, Félix, and myself so that you, my precious gems, can share your AUs, fanart, writings, and everything related to these AUs mainly 🗣️‼️
AND, OF COURSE THIS SERVER IS IN SPANISH AND ENGLISH
Want to meet people with similar interests and/or chat and theorize about more things related to these AUs? Then come in and share with us 🫂
(NOTE: we do not agree with TheGreatRouge and their past ‼️)
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30 Days Drawing Mugman
Day 10: Crying

Fact: Mugman hates when people sees him cry, so every time he does he hides himself in his scarf until he calms down.
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The One
The room was still, bathed in the soft gray of an early morning. The only sound was the gentle rhythm of Bendy’s breathing, slow and steady, like the heartbeat of the quiet itself. He lay curled in the blankets, his face relaxed, lips parted ever so slightly in sleep.
Cuphead lay beside him, wide awake, his gaze fixed on him as though he were looking at something too precious to risk looking away from. Slowly, almost reverently, he reached out and traced the smooth curve of Bendy’s cheek with his fingertip. He memorized the details—the slope of his nose, the softness of his brow, the way his hair fell just so—each touch a silent reminder: he’s here… and he’s mine.
His mind wandered back to the roads he’d taken before this moment. The first love—a man who never respected him, who kept him around only when it was convenient. The second—a manchild who clung too tightly, chained to a mother who would always come first. The third—a woman who demanded and demanded, never giving, and who laughed whenever he dared to share his heart.
Each ending left him more certain that love wasn’t meant for him. That it was a game he wasn’t built to win.
And then came Bendy. Small. Young. Entirely unlike anyone else. From the very beginning, he had been different—not in a way that dazzled, but in a way that reached straight into Cuphead’s guarded chest and touched something he thought had withered.
Bendy listened. He was gentle. Innocent. Brimming with love he gave freely, without expectation. He saw Cuphead for exactly who he was—not as a prize to win, not as a tool to use, but as a soul worth cherishing. With a single smile, a quiet touch, he could strip away every layer of armor Cuphead had built.
Every kiss set his heart racing. Every hug felt like a vow never to leave. Every touch was a quiet reassurance: you are safe with me.
Lying there, Cuphead realized love doesn’t come wrapped in the image you’ve dreamed up—it comes in the person you didn’t know you were missing, the one who feels like home.
A small, shaky laugh escaped him, and a tear slipped free, warm against his cheek. He leaned forward and kissed Bendy’s cheek with all the tenderness he could pour into that single moment. Then he tucked himself close, nuzzling against him, breathing in the quiet.
After three failed tries, heartbreaks, countless doubts, and the ache of loneliness… he had found The One.
#babtqftim#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#headcanon#short story#cuphead#bendy#bendystraw#bendy x cuphead#cuphead x bendy
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Cheek Muncher
Cuphead leaned in without warning, planting a loud, smacking kiss on Bendy’s cheek. “Mwah!”
Bendy blinked, caught off guard—then froze as Cuphead sniffed him like he was a fresh-baked pie. “Mmm… you smell nice,” Cuphead murmured with a grin.
Before Bendy could even respond, Cuphead started munching at his cheek again, little playful bites and kisses peppered across it. Bendy just stared, unamused but secretly fighting a smile, while Cuphead happily continued his cheek-munching mission.
#babtqftim#headcanon#bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine#short story#cuphead#bendy#bendystraw#cuphead x bendy#bendy x cuphead
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