#motm x reader

[faux-kat]

I wasn't done but eh ┐⁠(⁠￣▽￣⁠)⁠┌

Still Pinterest with the reference...

— ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃faux cat

[imslowashell]

[sayuanart]

2 sleepyy to color it today but here’s a treat for all of you Cuphead loversss

Drawing on the left by @nel7ly !

[checkeredscarff]

-ˋˏᥕһ᥆ ⍴ᥙᥣᥣᥱძ 𝗍һᥱ ⍴іᥒ ᥆ᥙ𝗍 ᥆𝖿 mᥡ һᥱᥲr𝗍?ˎˊ-

┆The star cast x gn!reader ; how do they kiss you?

-ˋˏWarnings┆Cuphead's section is a little heated but it's nothing crazyˎˊ-

-------------------

Reader is gender neutral! hcs cuz I haven't done those in forever :p I probably horribly mischaracterized them I'm so sorry Boris, Cuphead and Shelly were actually the hardest to characterize for me so apologies for that 💔 This is a little gift for reaching 100 followers! I would've done something different and grander but it's a bit hard when requests are closed </3 This post serves as an announcement that motm will officially be available for requesting in the future!! Guys can you tell I like pierce the veil? WHERE ARE THE MYTH BENDY FICS BRO I'M STARVING I'M GENUINELY THINKING I'M THE ONLY BENDY FAN ON EARTH Probably ooc..

Polished and proofread as of 08/11/2026!

—♯ᑲᥱᥒძᥡ ; 𝗍һᥱ ⍴ᥲssі᥆ᥒᥲ𝗍ᥱ ᥲᥒძ s᥆𝖿𝗍

⋆ ˚ 🎭 ⁀➴ ꒰ Bendy's kisses are nothing short of passionate and fiery. Every ounce of love he has is poured into every little kiss— no matter how short— like a desperate cry, trying to remind and show you just how much he cares. When he pulls away, it leaves you aching, wishing he'd have let it go on for just a few moments longer.

⋆ ˚ 🎭 ⁀➴ ꒰ Kisses serve as better alternatives to 'I love you's. Don't get me wrong, it's not like he never says it! Bendy simply prefers showing his affection through actions rather than words; he feels that he's much better at expressing himself with his body. He likes to think it's the former performer in him, used to telling the story through lively movement and a sway of his hips.

⋆ ˚ 🎭 ⁀➴ ꒰ Every one of his kisses entails touch to some degree. The shorter ones are often accompanied by hand holding, taking both of your hands in his. Leeching off your warmth, he squeezes them— firm and reassuring. Sometimes, though, a gloved claw reaches up to gently cup your cheek. His thumb traces your cheekbone as the other finds it's place on your forearm, gently massaging away any built up tension in your muscles. His tail flicks behind him and snakes up to wrap around your thigh or waist, the tip gently rubbing against your skin.

⋆ ˚ 🎭 ⁀➴ ꒰ The longer ones call for firm hugs, two cold arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you closer until your bodies are pressed flush against each other; with such closeness, you can feel just how fast his heart beats. Other times, his claws trail down your sides, slow and teasing until they stop at your hips. He takes great care not to dig those talons of his into you as he squeezes, smiling into the kiss as your flesh dips under the pads of his fingers. His tail wraps tighter around you as if attempting to show you how important you are to him.

⋆ ˚ 🎭 ⁀➴ ꒰ Bendy may try to cover any traces of raw, unfiltered emotion out of some inexplicable fear but kisses are near impossible to fake. Earlier into your relationship, his kisses were almost always playful. In more intimate instances, you could catch a slight tremor in his lips and a hesitance in touches.

⋆ ˚ 🎭 ⁀➴ ꒰ Since then, he's gotten far more comfortable. Insecurities you used to inadvertently bring out now fade in your presence. Kisses are no longer something he has to rehearse a hundred times in his head like some stage act. Bendy understands now— to the fullest extent— that you are someone he can fully confide in. You're not a member of the audience. He's not performing, nor does he need to. You're his partner and you'll love him no matter what version of him it may be.

—♯ᑲ᥆rіs ; 𝗍һᥱ ᥣᥲzᥡ ᥲᥒძ ᥲძ᥆rіᥒg

⋆ ˚ 🦴 ⁀➴ ꒰ Boris's kisses are lazy but not in the way you may think. It's not that he doesn't love you enough to put in the effort, it's quite literally just his style! Unlike Bendy, he doesn't treat every kiss like something sacred to pour his everything into. Instead, he finds comfort in them. Boris melts into every kiss, practically a big, warm puddle in your hands by the time you pull away.

⋆ ˚ 🦴 ⁀➴ ꒰ Kisses are like mini breaks from life. Every one of them stops time itself, allowing him a moment of peace to unravel in the warmth of his lover. He often ends up hurting his tail, the way it wags and incidentally smacks into everything in it's path. He leans in, sweet and shy, everytime. You end up having to take charge for the most part as he ends up too engrossed and lazy to bring himself to voluntarily pull away.

⋆ ˚ 🦴 ⁀➴ ꒰ Boris isn't all too big on being vulnerable in public, meaning that kisses only take place in the comfort of his home or just generally in a private space. The biggest upside to this is that every touch is far more intimate than it could ever be in public.

⋆ ˚ 🦴 ⁀➴ ꒰ For the most part, kisses may begin with you standing or sitting in your own seperate places. If the kiss runs longer than a few seconds, his gloved hands take yours in them, playing with your nails or rubbing small and slow circles into your knuckles. A few seconds longer and he'll begin to trail them up your arms, right up to the fold. He keeps his thumbs over the veins running through them, focusing in on the rhythm of your pulse and how it quickens. About a minute in, he'll find his way to your waist and gently pull you onto his lap if possible. The kiss either ends in a cuddle session or continues until you pull away.

⋆ ˚ 🦴 ⁀➴ ꒰ On the other hand, you'll have already been lying on him. In this case, he simply brings both arms around you and holds you tight. You can feel the muscles beneath his skin flex against your back as he practically attempts to fuse with you. This, however, only really occurs when he's feeling extra clingy, sensitive, or having a jealous streak. More often than not, Boris gently rests his hands on your back, one on the upper and the other on the lower. The hand against the small of your back often presses against and massages the curve.

⋆ ˚ 🦴 ⁀➴ ꒰ To put it bluntly, Boris's kisses are a little sloppy and definitely inexperienced but it's evident that they mean a lot to him. He's gentle with you and almost always takes his sweet time with them to express that love. Not joking, he has a dedicated time in his schedule to making out with you; it's essentially his break from whatever he might've been doing before.

—♯ᥴᥙ⍴һᥱᥲძ ; 𝗍һᥱ һᥱᥲ𝗍ᥱძ ᥲᥒძ ᥲᥕkᥕᥲrძ

⋆ ˚ ♦ ⁀➴ ꒰ Cuphead's kisses always leave behind a buzzing warmth on your lips, burning desire carried through to you in every one. He's a little on the rougher side, often yanking you into them or darting out to you rather than slowly leaning in. He tends to live his life fast paced, making slower and more intimate moments few and far between but all the more special.

⋆ ˚ ♦ ⁀➴ ꒰ Cuphead is about as passionate as Bendy. Actually? Scratch that— he's worse. While Bendy is relatively soft and romantic, Cuphead manifests a hot, messy desire and he'll leave you to sit with it. He relishes in the thought that every kiss leaves you thinking of him hours after he's gone, craving his attention and presence. But don't worry, he's no monster! He'll give you just what you want if you beg a little, just hope you don't mind being teased about it later..

⋆ ˚ ♦ ⁀➴ ꒰ Cuphead has damn near no shame. Your input is honestly all that's stopping him from having your back pressed against a wall and his tongue practically down your throat. All jokes aside, he really does get way too into it. Public spaces are his favorite places to make out for the sole purpose of showing any and everyone that they have no shot. It starts off simple enough, a few kisses here and there, but it doesn't take long for him to pull you onto his lap. Cuphead loves letting his hands wander during this, gliding over your sides, tracing your spine and rubbing your thighs. He kisses you with fervor; fast, sloppy and intense, as if he were out of time.

⋆ ˚ ♦ ⁀➴ ꒰ Cuphead struggles with genuine intimacy. Being soft— even with you— is difficult. It's really the only reason he tries to keep the quieter moments to a minimum. He wants to be soft, he really does. It's what he believes you deserve most but he's painfully awkward with it. You'd most likely have to be the one to initiate any intimacy. During these special moments, he goes quiet. His jokes spill less confidently and that cocky smile fades. Suddenly, he's uncertain. Your touches are gentle, unfamiliar. You hold him like something precious and it makes his bottom lip tremble, holding back something he can't quite put a name to.

⋆ ˚ ♦ ⁀➴ ꒰ Cuphead's touches are no longer smooth but shaky as his fingers glide over your arms to your cheek. His eyes flicker from your lovely face to the wall and back again. He's terrified of screwing up and chasing off the only person he's ever known to have seen him for the freak show he is and still believe he's someone to be held so lovingly. His kisses cool into something less unbearably hot and needy to something gentle; something slow and sweet. Instead of being the chaotic, dominating force he always tries to be, he let's you take the lead. His strong arms wrap around your waist, tense and sweaty as he pulls you close, desperate to keep you where he needs you. It's selfish but he can't stomach the thought of you abandoning him right now.

⋆ ˚ ♦ ⁀➴ ꒰ In all honesty, he's a softie but you really— and I mean really— have to bring it out of him. Show him he can trust you not to drop and shatter him when he needs to be held. Show him you can handle his wild side and snarky remarks without snapping. It'll take some time but if you stick around and act as his safe space, he'll warm up and you'll get to catch sides of him you likely never knew existed. The farther into your relationship you get, the more comfortable he gets; intimate moments are no longer rare but— similarly to boris— something that happens in the comfort of either of your homes or just somewhere quiet and alone with you.

—♯mᥙgmᥲᥒ ; 𝗍һᥱ sһᥡ ᥲᥒძ sіm⍴ᥣᥱ

⋆ ˚ ♠ ⁀➴ ꒰ Mugman's kisses are almost always stiff, awkward, and to the point. You think it's endearing but he hates it and really wishes he didn't struggle so much. His kisses start tense and nervous but the longer they last and the more you reassure him, they'll eventually melt into something soft and sweet. Every kiss leaves him a blushing mess, cheeks dusted a very visible blue. He'd never admit to something so embarrassing but your kisses run circles in his head until you grant him more, replaying the moment and recalling the softness of your lips whenever they pressed against his.

⋆ ˚ ♠ ⁀➴ ꒰ Unfortunately, Mugman remains tense whenever you kiss in public. It's embarrassing to him— other people being able to catch a glimpse of how terrible he is at this. If you don't grab a hold of him he might pull away faster than either of you would like. Reach out to him, take his hands in yours and squeeze tight. He'll reciprocate, squeezing back and relaxing ever so slightly. Wrap your arms around him and trace his rim lovingly. He'll smile against you.

⋆ ˚ ♠ ⁀➴ ꒰ Mugman always asks; whether he's asking for one or asking to give you one. Sometimes it's a little odd and out of place but it's adorable nonetheless. He'll awkwardly shuffle closer, leaning into you ever so slightly until his warmth starts making you sweat a bit before quietly mumbling. His pinky wraps around yours as he patiently waits for an answer. When you finally lean in and/or give him permission, his hand locks onto yours, fingers intertwined as your lips meet once again. The corners of his mouth twitch as he attempts to hold in the giggle and giddy smile before your image of him becomes a blushing schoolgirl with a big fat crush.

⋆ ˚ ♠ ⁀➴ ꒰ Mugman's kisses are very simple! No crazy, over the top gestures but cute little pecks on the cheek or sweet kisses that last just the right amount of time; never too long, never too short. He rarely holds you the way most of our other friends do but he'll always take your hands in his. Though, during the summer, he only holds onto your fingers to keep from getting you sweaty. I like to think he's a really warm guy. Cuddles during the summer are unbearable though..

⋆ ˚ ♠ ⁀➴ ꒰ He tends to kiss you more on the nose. It's almost like a little tradition or secret love language. They're quick and easy but you can tell just how happy it makes him when you kiss him back. A big goofy, lopsided smile spreads everytime you ghost kisses across his nose, cheeks, forehead and anywhere else you can think of. He's practically steaming and buzzing with joy by the time you pull away fully. You could argue he gets far more excited from the myriad of kisses than the usual, singular ones on the lips.

⋆ ˚ ♠ ⁀➴ ꒰ He may struggle with intimacy— in the sense of being painfully stiff, awkward, shy and nervous— but despite that tendency to stick to timid simplicity, you can bet that he loves you more than anything in the world. Mugman's love isn't loud, dramatic, grand, or extremely intimate. Mugman's love is domestic, quiet, endearingly dorky, and still just as loving as the rest of the cast— if not more. His excitement and nerves don't stem from 'first relationship jitters' or something of a similar degree but, instead, it's almost as if he still has a big ol' crush on you. You still give him just as many butterflies as when he first laid eyes on you..

—♯sһᥱᥣᥣᥡ ; 𝗍һᥱ ⍴ᥣᥲᥡ𝖿ᥙᥣ ᥲᥒძ sᥱᥒsі𝗍і᥎ᥱ

⋆ ˚ 🐚 ⁀➴ ꒰ Shelly is an energetic and bubbly gal, almost always smiling and skipping around the room. Her kisses very heavily reflect those traits! She giggles into each and every one, the subtle taste of her fruity chapstick left behind on your lips. Each short session is a burst of joy, multiple kisses express that very well for her. Kisses that aren't accompanied by 20 others are uncommon but certainly not rare either!

⋆ ˚ 🐚 ⁀➴ ꒰ Shelly is a very clingy and touchy woman, as if in need of constant reassurance. She brings you as close as possible and squeezes you tight. Oftentimes, you need to tap her back or hip to let her know she's dangerously close to suffocating you. Her hands don't wander, sticking to their usual spots; these said spots being your hair/horns/fur, lower back, cheeks, and hands. The only movement found is gentle caresses, miscellaneous fidgeting, light circles traced on your skin, and squeezes that are just slightly too tight.

⋆ ˚ 🐚 ⁀➴ ꒰ Shelly almost always initiates it first. Whenever you think you're about to catch her off guard, the moment you turn your head, she's already closed half the gap between you. The key word here is almost. Sometimes you do manage to catch her by surprise, leaning in to kiss her just before she could go through with it herself. In moments like this, she tends to lean in a little closer, press into the kiss a little harder, and her once tight holds blur into something far less desperate. Kisses from you mean a lot; to her, it says you really care. You're not here to mess with her, hurt her or neglect her. You actually care..

⋆ ˚ 🐚 ⁀➴ ꒰ Softer, more intimate moments are typically accompanied by quiet sobs. Starting out, she's relatively calm and collected— still cheery and smiley. As the scene stretches on, she starts to tear up. Quiet sniffles reach your ears and you pull away in concern. Shelly will always insist, nearly beg for you to continue. She'll tell you she's fine, and truthfully? Deep down? She's not. Of course she's not. But she doesn't need a lecture and therapy, at least not at the moment. All she needs is you, your familiarity, safety and comfort; your loving touches, tender holds and memorized warmth. She'll make her way to a psychologist later.

⋆ ˚ 🐚 ⁀➴ ꒰ One of Shelly's favorite things to do is curl up somewhere with you and ramble about her studies, recent findings and some gardenview history. You don't let her run on like background noise you hardly regard— you actually listen. You listen and you love her little info dumps. She peppers kisses across your face, neck and arms as a show of her vast appreciation for your putting up with her yammering. She treasures these moments, albeit mostly out of fear that your well of love will eventually run dry. She's terrified that you'll find someone far better.

⋆ ˚ 🐚 ⁀➴ ꒰ Shelly is a ball of sunshine; courageous, bold, and bright. Unfortunately, a single star in the night sky is always looked over in favor of the brighter, colorful ones. She carries the insecurity of her blandness, always on the verge of being entirely forgotten, even by her own friends, into your relationship. You know of this and you try to help but she always refuses to push her burdens onto you. Keep pushing. Show her that you care, that she'll always be the star you look for; your special star. She'll open up bit by bit and the anxious squeezes disappear. The moments she treasures won't be held dearly out of fear but out of love instead. She'll eventually come to understand that you're her safe space and you're not planning on going anywhere.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are appreciated! —🪻

[jammingaround-silly]

"random texts with them"

(Let's ignore the fact that Cuphead can't read)

Based on some pics I saw on Pinterest

Y'all tell me if you want more

[elltournesoll]

Gift for: @doshi-sukiru and @chrysiskowot

Where The Tide Meets Us — Ink Beach

Summary: A simple beach day turns into something softer, warmer, and harder to ignore than expected, between failed surfing attempts, chaotic volleyball matches, and a quiet bonfire under the stars, small moments begin to mean more than they should.

And somewhere between the waves and the silence — something changes.

Pairing: Ink Beach! Mugman x Reader

Genre: Romance (Primary), Slice of Life, Comedy / Light Humor and Fluff

Trope: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, He Falls First (Subtle), Soft Confession, "Beach Episode" / Vacation, Found Family / Group Dynamics, Bonfire Confession Scene, Clumsy Affection, Physical Near-Misses (Almost Touching), Teasing Friends as Wingmen and Comfort Through Presence (Not Words)

Rating: T (Teen)

Ink Beach belongs to: @thekaeru2 hiii twin hiii waves hello

Her au blog: @theinkbeach go check it out right now !!!

Ink Beach smelled like salt, sunscreen, and warm sand.

The scent clung to everything—your clothes, your body, even the wooden railings along the boardwalk that stretched beside the shoreline.

It lingered stubbornly, woven into the air so deeply it felt impossible to escape, like the beach itself had decided you belonged to it now.

The breeze rolling in from the ocean carried it gently through the air, threading it between the distant sounds of laughter, seagulls crying overhead, and waves breaking in soft, rhythmic crashes against the shore.

It was the kind of sound that didn’t demand your attention, but somehow never let it go either.

It had only been a few weeks since you arrived with Bendy and Boris, but the place already felt different from anywhere you’d ever been.

Quieter in some ways.

Louder in others.

The ocean itself never stopped moving, even when you tried to focus on something else, you could always hear it — rolling endlessly toward the sand like a living thing breathing in and out.

Steady and constant.

Almost comforting.

You sat cross-legged on a striped beach towel, absentmindedly dragging your fingers through the sand beside you. The grains slipped between them easily, warm from the sun, sticking faintly to your skin.

You watched the horizon.

Well—

Mostly watched one specific person.

Far out past the shallows, Mugman rode the crest of a rising wave, his surfboard slicing cleanly across the water as he leaned into the turn.

The sunlight reflected off the surface of the ocean, scattering silver light across the shifting waves, making everything shimmer like glass.

He looked completely at ease.

Focused.

Like the ocean simply belonged to him.

Every movement he made seemed instinctive, small adjustments of his stance, the subtle shift of his weight, the way he leaned just slightly before the wave curled and broke behind him.

No hesitation.

No second-guessing.

Just movement.

Just flow.

It was honestly mesmerizing.

“…You’re staring again.”

The voice beside you made you jump slightly, your attention snapping away from the water.

You turned your head and found Cuphead sprawled lazily across the sand beside you, one arm tucked behind his head while the other lazily traced patterns into the sand. His red-striped straw tilted just enough to match the smirk pulling at his expression.

A bright red volleyball rested beside him, half buried in the sand like it had been abandoned mid-game hours ago.

“I’m not staring,” you said quickly, defensively.

Cuphead didn’t even bother pretending to believe you.

“You absolutely are.”

“I’m watching the waves.”

“Sure you are.”

He didn’t even look at the ocean, his grin widened slowly, like he was savoring this.

“Because the waves definitely look like Mugman.”

You opened your mouth but immediately realized you had nothing to say.

Because unfortunately, he wasn’t really wrong.

Your gaze flickered back toward the water for half a second before you caught yourself.

“I just — he’s — surfing!” you said weakly, making desperate gestures with your hands, both towards where Mugman is surfing and towards the ocean as a whole.

“Yeah,” Cuphead nodded. “He tends to do that.”

Before you could attempt a better defense, a soft thwip sound came from the shade nearby, catching yours and Cuphead's attention away from the discussion you were having, both looking toward the source of the sound.

Boris sat beneath a large striped beach umbrella a few feet away, tossing a bright orange frisbee into the air and catching it again with quiet, effortless precision.

Up.

Catch.

Pause.

Turn.

Repeat.

Like he was operating on a completely different pace than the rest of the world.

He caught it again, turning it slowly in his hands before glancing over at you.

“You like him.”

You nearly inhaled sand.

Your entire body jerked slightly, and for a horrifying second you thought you might actually choke.

Cuphead burst into laughter so suddenly he had to sit up, one hand pressing against his side.

“Boris!” he wheezed. “You can’t just — drop that like it’s nothing!” he continued laughing, at you and at what Boris just said without any filter whatsoever.

Boris shrugged calmly.

“They keep looking at him.”

“I do not—!”

“You do,” Cuphead interrupted immediately, while still giggling to himself.

“Repeatedly,” Boris added, face still with a calm expression, but his gaze suggested he knew more than you let him know.

Your face felt hotter than the sun overhead.

“I am just— observing!”

Cuphead snorted.

“Yeah, observing him specifically.”

Before you could dig yourself any deeper into this increasingly embarrassing hole, a cheerful voice drifted in from behind.

“Well well well… Are we discussing romance without inviting me?”

Bendy dropped down beside the group like a mischievous shadow, landing in the sand with exaggerated flair like he had been waiting for the perfect dramatic entrance.

He was holding a bright blue frozen drink with a tiny umbrella sticking out of the top.

Cuphead immediately squinted at it.

“…Did you pay for that?”

Bendy took a slow sip, eyes closing like he was savoring something rare and expensive.

“Define ‘pay.’”

“You stole it.”

“I prefer the term borrowed indefinitely.”

“From who?”

Bendy gestured vaguely toward the boardwalk without even turning around.

“Technically… the smoothie stand.”

“You are going to get us banned," Cuphead groaned loudly while facepalming his face.

“They have more,” Bendy said simply, shrugging his shoulders like it's nothing and he definitely didn't just steal the drink, when he could've easily buy it with his own money.

“That is not the point!”

Cuphead argued back, the drink inside his head starting to boil with stress, as he's already imagining all of the chaos and drama this could cause to all of you.

Boris tossed the frisbee again.

Meanwhile, out in the ocean, Mugman rode another wave toward shore.

This one was bigger.

The water curved beneath him like a wall of blue glass, lifting him higher, higher, and for a moment, it looked like he wasn’t even touching it, like he was suspended there.

Balanced between sky and sea.

Then he moved.

Smooth.

Controlled.

He carved down the side of the wave in a sweeping motion, the board cutting cleanly through the water like it belonged there.

Like he belonged there.

Then the wave broke, white foam rushed forward.

He rode it all the way into the shallows before stepping off, lifting the board under one arm like it weighed nothing.

Water dripped from his arms, his shoulders, his entire porcelain body glistening under the natural light, catching the light in small, shifting reflections.

His gaze drifted across the beach.

And stopped on you, just for a second.

He lifted a hand casually.

You waved back before your brain could intervene, still staring at him and admiring how the sun shines on his now wet muscles.

Just for you to immediately regretting it.

Behind you, Bendy leaned forward slowly, eyes narrowing with absolute delight, a smug smile on his face that from miles away anyone could see that it could only mean danger.

“Oh?” he whispered.

“Oh this is going to be fun.” Cuphead snorted, observing with a smirk the way that you admired his brother. “I give it two days," he says, selling a new deal.

“One,” Bendy corrected.

Boris didn’t comment but he didn’t disagree either.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ 𓇼

Mugman reached the sand a minute later.

Droplets of seawater still sliding down his arms as he leaned his board against a wooden rack near the beach entrance.

The wood creaked faintly under the weight as he settled it into place, the nose of the board tapping lightly against one of the posts before going still.

His fingers lingered briefly on the edge of it, thumb brushing absently along a faint scratch in the surface, almost like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

Like part of him was still out there, somewhere between the waves and the open water, caught in that steady rhythm of rise and fall.

But maybe you're just reading too much into this.

Yeah.

“You’re back already?” Cuphead called, not even bothering to sit up from where he was sprawled across the sand, one leg bent and the other stretched out lazily.

He lifted a hand just enough to shield his eyes from the sun, squinting in Mugman’s direction without moving anything else.

Mugman glanced over, wiping the back of his arm across his forehead to clear the saltwater from his head.

“Been out there for two hours.”

Cuphead lifted his head just enough to squint at him more dramatically, his expression slowly flattening into unimpressed disbelief.

“Amateur numbers.”

Mugman stared at him.

A long, unimpressed pause.

“You’ve been lying on the sand,” he said flatly, one eyebrow raising just slightly as he crossed his arms loosely.

“Training,” Cuphead replied immediately, not missing a beat as he dropped his head back down onto the sand with exaggerated relaxation, arms spreading out like he was demonstrating a technique.

Mugman didn’t move.

“For what?”

Cuphead shifted just enough to point vaguely at the sky, like the answer was obvious.

“Superior relaxation.”

There was a beat.

A seagull cried somewhere overhead.

Bendy snorted loudly from where he was sitting cross-legged, nearly choking on his drink as he turned away to cough into his elbow.

“That’s not a real skill,” he said once he recovered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his grin already creeping back.

“It absolutely is,” Cuphead shot back, lifting his head just enough to glare in Bendy’s direction before flopping back again. “You just lack discipline.”

Bendy leaned back onto his hands, tilting his head with mock offense.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize lying face-down in the sand counted as training.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” Cuphead said, waving him off lazily. “It’s advanced.”

“You lack shame,” Bendy replied, raising an eyebrow.

Cuphead paused for exactly one second.

Then shrugged, with a smirk.

“That too.”

Boris tossed a frisbee, the bright orange disc spinning lazily in the sunlight before dropping neatly back into his hand.

He didn’t even look up.

“That is accurate.”

Mugman huffed quietly under his breath, shaking his head as a small, almost reluctant smile flickered across his face before disappearing again.

He wiped the remaining saltwater from his hands, brushing them against his shorts before finally looking toward you.

And something in his expression softened, just slightly.

Not enough to be obvious but it was there, a small shift in his eyes.

A quiet warmth that hadn’t been there a second ago.

“You still want to try surfing?” he asked.

His voice wasn’t loud, it didn’t really need to be.

Your stomach flipped immediately.

“…Do I really have to?” you asked, instinctively drawing your arms a little closer to yourself as if that might somehow protect you from the ocean.

Cuphead snorted from the ground, turning his head just enough to glance between the two of you.

“That’s not a no.”

Mugman ignored him completely, stepping a little closer to you instead, his attention steady and entirely focused.

“You asked yesterday.”

“That was before I realized the ocean was terrifying,” you shot back, gesturing vaguely toward the water like it was personally responsible.

“It’s not terrifying.”

“It absolutely is.”

Bendy leaned in from the side, lowering his voice dramatically as he rested his chin in his hand, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“The ocean is full of mysteries.”

You didn’t even look at him.

“Do not help.”

“Some of which,” he continued anyway, lifting one finger like he was about to give a lecture, “have teeth—”

“Bendy.”

“And some of them are probably watching us right now—”

“BENDY.”

He paused.

Then slowly broke into a grin.

“Just saying.”

Cuphead snickered.

“Liar.”

Boris tossed the frisbee again.

Mugman shook his head, exhaling softly through his nose, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it faded again as he looked back at you.

There was a small pause.

A quieter one this time.

“…I’ll stay close,” he added.

His voice dropped just slightly, softer, less teasing, more real and certain, like he truly he meant it.

That did not help your heart.

At all.

Your gaze flickered up to him again, just for a second too long — long enough to catch the steadiness in his expression, the quiet sincerity there — before you looked away quickly, pretending to focus on the sand instead.

“…That’s not fair,” you muttered.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, confusion flickering across his face.

“You can’t just say that like it’s reassuring.”

“It is reassuring,” he said, a little more firmly this time, brows knitting slightly like he didn’t understand the problem.

“It is—” you started, then stopped, exhaling slowly as you rubbed the back of your neck. “It is, but that’s not the point.”

He watched you for a second longer than necessary.

Trying to figure something out, like he almost understood, but still not quite.

Behind you, Cuphead suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbows, nudging Bendy with a grin that was way too knowing.

“They’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” Bendy whispered back immediately, leaning closer like this was important.

“The thing.”

Bendy’s eyes widened slightly.

Then he nodded, completely serious.

“Ohhh. The thing.”

Boris didn’t look up from the frisbee.

“They will go.”

“Yeah,” Cuphead said, settling back down with a satisfied smirk. “They always do.”

Meanwhile, Mugman had already turned back to the rack, grabbing another surfboard and pulling it free with an easy, practiced motion. The board slid loose with a soft scrape of wood, and he adjusted his grip without even thinking about it.

He glanced back at you over his shoulder.

“Come on.”

Simple and completely casual, like it wasn’t a big deal, almost like he hadn’t just completely thrown your entire emotional balance off.

You stared at him.

At the board tucked under his arm.

At the ocean stretching endlessly behind him.

At the waves rolling in like they had something personal against you.

At your rapidly declining sense of self-preservation.

Then you looked back at him.

Still waiting, still calm.

You sighed, long and dramatic enough.

“…If I die, I’m blaming all of you.”

“You won’t die,” Cuphead said immediately, not even opening his eyes.

“Statistically unlikely,” Boris added, catching the frisbee again with a soft thwap.

“Emotionally possible,” Bendy chimed in, a big smile on his face, raising his drink like he was making a toast.

You pointed at him.

“Not helping!”

“Never my goal.”

You hesitated for half a second longer, then stood anyway.

Brushing sand from your hands.

From your legs.

From all your dignity left.

“…I hate all of you,” you muttered.

“Love you too!” Cuphead called lazily.

Mugman didn’t say anything.

But as you stepped closer to him, he shifted slightly, just enough to match your pace when you started walking.

Like he had already decided he really was going to stay close.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ 𓇼

The sand grew cooler beneath your feet as you walked closer to the water.

It shifted softly with each step, warm and loose at first, grains slipping and sliding under your weight, before gradually giving way to damp, packed sand near the shoreline that held your steps more firmly.

Your pace slowed without you meaning it to, each step a little more deliberate than the last, like your body was trying to stall for time.

Your footprints became clearer there, more defined, pressed deeper into the sand before the tide crept in just enough to blur their edges away again.

Like they had never been there at all.

You glanced back at them for a second too long.

“…That’s unsettling,” you muttered under your breath.

Mugman glanced over his shoulder briefly.

“What is?”

“My footprints just disappearing like that.”

He followed your gaze, then shrugged lightly.

“That’s just the tide.”

“That’s exactly what makes it unsettling.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly.

Small waves curled across the shore, sliding over your toes before retreating back into the ocean, leaving thin trails of foam behind that clung briefly to your skin before dissolving.

The first touch of water made you tense instinctively, your toes curling slightly into the sand.

Cold, not freezing but colder than expected.

You pulled your foot back automatically.

Then forced yourself forward again.

The water looked calm from a distance.

Gentle, almost inviting.

But up close it felt much bigger.

The horizon stretched endlessly, blending into the sky in a way that made it impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Endless.

Alive in a way that made your chest tighten slightly, like it was breathing, like it was aware.

“You’re thinking too much,” Mugman said, stepping into the water without hesitation.

The surfboard rested easily against his side, his grip loose and familiar as the waves brushed against him like it was nothing, showing it was something he’d done a thousand times before.

“I’m thinking about survival,” you replied, stepping in after him with much less confidence, your shoulders tensing slightly as another small wave rolled in.

The water climbed slowly up your ankles, then your calves, cool and shifting, tugging faintly at your legs as it moved past.

“You’re not going to drown.”

“You sound very confident about that,” you said, glancing at him with narrowed eyes as you carefully took another step forward.

“I’ve been surfing since I was a kid,” he said, glancing back at you, one eyebrow lifting slightly like that should settle the matter.

“That does not help me.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, turning a little more toward you as he continued walking backward through the water now, watching you instead of where he was going.

“It’s supposed to.”

“Well, it’s not working.”

“You’re still walking forward,” he pointed out, gesturing vaguely toward your legs with the hand not holding the board.

You paused mid-step.

“…I don’t like that you noticed that.”

“Too late,” he said lightly, a small grin slipping through before he looked ahead again.

The water rose slowly around your legs as you followed him farther into the surf, each step a little more hesitant than the last.

It pressed against you differently now.

Stronger, not enough to knock you over but enough to make you aware of it.

Aware of how easily it actually could.

The temperature dropped just enough to make you tense, your shoulders pulling in slightly as another wave rolled past, brushing higher this time.

The movement of the ocean tugged gently at you with each passing wave.

It wasn’t strong, but it was constant.

A steady pull that made you very aware of how easily it could knock you off balance if it wanted to.

You wobbled slightly as your foot shifted in the sand beneath you.

Mugman slowed immediately.

Matching your pace without pointing it out, without making it obvious.

When you wobbled again — just a little more noticeably this time — his hand hovered near your arm for a second.

Not touching, just there.

Close enough that you could feel the warmth of it, ready, just in case.

You noticed.

And somehow that made you both more and less nervous at the same time.

He stopped when the water reached his waist and lowered the board into the water with practiced ease, guiding it down so it settled flat against the surface.

The board bobbed gently, rising and falling with the rhythm of the ocean.

“Alright,” he said, steadying it with one hand.

The board drifted slightly closer to you, nudging lightly against your leg before settling again.

“Lie down.”

You stared at it like it had personally offended you.

Then at the ocean.

Then back at him.

Your expression didn’t change.

But of course, your silence said everything.

He raised an eyebrow.

“…You’re NOT going to bite it.”

“I don’t trust it.”

“It’s a surfboard.”

“It’s floating.”

“That’s what it’s supposed to do.”

“That’s suspicious.”

Mugman blinked at you.

“…What?”

You hesitated.

“If I drown, I’m going to haunt you.”

“You won’t drown.”

“…Okay.”

There was a very long pause.

You didn’t move and he didn’t either.

The board bobbed between you.

“…Probably,” he added after a second, quieter, like he couldn’t help himself.

You flinched and stared at him.

“Mugman!”

He winced slightly.

“I’m kidding.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You should.”

“I don’t.”

“…That’s fair.”

You took a breath.

Then carefully — very carefully — climbed onto the board.

It rocked immediately beneath you, the sudden shift making your entire body tense as your hands shot out to grip the sides instinctively.

“Okay, nope, I hate this,” you said immediately, fingers tightening around the edges.

“You’re too tense,” Mugman said, stepping closer, one hand already reaching out toward the board.

“I’m on a floating plank in the middle of the ocean.”

“You’re ten feet from shore.”

“That’s still ocean.”

“That’s barely ocean.”

“That is a lot of ocean.”

He laughed quietly under his breath, the sound softer this time, less teasing — more fond, if anything — as he reached out and steadied the board with one hand.

The motion was firm, the wobbling eased just slightly.

“Lift your chest,” he said, adjusting his stance to keep the board stable as another small wave passed beneath it.

His other hand hovered for a second, like he was giving you time to object.

Then gently adjusted your posture, careful and eliberate.

His fingers pressed lightly against your side, guiding you into position, then shifted to your shoulder — steady, warm, reassuring.

His touch lingered just a second longer than necessary and that was more than enough to make your brain immediately stop functioning.

“There,” he said softly.

You forgot how to breathe for half a second.

The board drifted forward slightly.

“Now paddle.”

You dipped your arms into the water, pulling awkwardly at first, your movements uneven and hesitant as you tried to coordinate everything at once.

The board wobbled beneath you again.

You made a noise somewhere between a complaint and a threat.

“This feels illegal,” you muttered.

“It’s not illegal.”

“It feels illegal.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“I don’t feel fine.”

“You look fine.”

“That’s worse.”

He laughed again, quieter this time, watching you more closely now.

Then, a shift in the water behind you.

The board lifted slightly.

“Keep paddling,” Mugman called, his tone shifting just a little — more focused now.

You paddled faster immediately, your movements suddenly much less coordinated.

“Why does that sound urgent?” you asked, voice rising slightly.

“It’s not urgent.”

“That sounded urgent.”

“It’s just a wave.”

“That doesn't help!”

The wave lifted the board beneath you, higher this time.

Your stomach flipped.

Your grip tightened.

“Stand up!”

"I'm going to fall!"

“Stand up!”

“I hate this!”

“Stand up!”

You pushed yourself upright, legs shaking slightly as you tried to find your balance

And for a moment, it clicked.

Balance.

Real, actual balance.

The board steadied beneath your feet.

Wind rushed past your ears.

The ocean moved beneath you instead of against you.

The shoreline got closer.

Faster.

You felt it, that brief, impossible moment of control.

“I’m doing it!”

Then your foot slipped.

Everything tilted.

And you crashed into the water with a loud splash.

Cold rushed around you instantly, sharp and overwhelming, disorienting and loud and everywhere all at once.

You surfaced a second later, sputtering and soaked, pushing wet hair out of your face with both hands as you tried to catch your breath.

“Okay!” you coughed. “I hate everything!”

Mugman was laughing, not teasing or mocking.

Just bright, unfiltered.

Head tilted back slightly, shoulders shaking, completely unguarded in a way you hadn’t really seen before.

The kind of laugh that made your chest feel warm instead of embarrassed.

“You lasted four seconds,” he said, still grinning.

You wiped water from your eyes, trying very hard not to smile.

“That’s four seconds of greatness.”

“That’s four seconds of improvement.”

“I’m retiring while I’m ahead.”

“You’re not allowed to retire after one attempt,” he said, stepping closer as the board drifted back toward him.

“I absolutely am.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He shook his head, still smiling faintly as he reached out instinctively when another small wave rocked the board again.

His hand found yours without hesitation, his grip firm enough to ground you without pulling, helping you balance again as your feet found the sand beneath you.

“You’re trying again.”

“That sounds like a threat,” you said, glancing up at him, your voice softer now, less frantic.

“It’s encouragement.”

“It sounds like a death trap.”

“You’ll get it,” he said, more quietly this time.

There was a small pause.

“…Eventually,” you added.

“Eventually,” he agreed.

The water shifted gently around you both.

The board bobbed between you.

His hand was still holding yours.

Neither of you said anything about it.

Neither of you moved away.

And for a second—

Everything slowed.

The noise of the beach faded slightly.

The teasing voices from shore blurred into the background.

It was just the ocean.

The steady push and pull of the waves.

The warmth of his hand wrapped around yours.

The way his thumb shifted slightly, almost absentmindedly against your knuckles.

Then, from the distance—

“ROUND TWO!” Cuphead shouted.

Bendy’s voice followed immediately after.

“DON’T DIE!”

You blinked.

The moment shattered.

You exhaled, looking away slightly, your grip loosening just a fraction before tightening again without thinking.

“…I’m going to pretend they don't exist,” you said.

“Good plan,” Mugman replied, though there was still a hint of a smile in his voice.

But neither of you let go right away.

And somehow—

That felt more important than anything else.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ 𓇼

When you returned to shore, the volleyball net had appeared like it had always been there.

You slowed slightly as you stepped out of the water, sand clinging to your damp feet as they sank lightly with each step. The shift from the cool ocean to the warm air made your skin prickle, droplets of water still sliding down your arms and shoulders.

“…That wasn’t there before,” you said, squinting at the net like it had personally betrayed you.

Mugman followed your gaze, dragging a hand through his body, still catching his breath slightly from the water.

“…Nope,” he muttered.

Cuphead stood beneath it, spinning the volleyball lazily in his hands, the motion smooth and practiced as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Like he’d been waiting, as if he planned this.

“Perfect timing,” he said, flashing a grin that immediately set off alarms.

Mugman groaned before you could even respond, dragging both hands down his face.

“No,” he said flatly, already turning like he was about to walk the other direction.

“Yes,” Cuphead replied instantly, tossing the ball lightly from one hand to the other.

Mugman pointed at him, narrowing his eyes.

“I just got out of the ocean.”

“And now you’re warmed up,” Cuphead shot back, completely unfazed.

“I’m tired.”

“You’re alive.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It’s close enough.”

Mugman let his arms fall to his sides with a quiet, defeated exhale.

“…You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told,” Cuphead said proudly, placing a hand against his chest like it was an achievement.

Bendy bounced on his hooves nearby, sand kicking up slightly around his feet as he leaned forward with barely contained excitement.

“I volunteer for chaos,” he announced, raising one hand dramatically like he was being sworn into something important.

Cuphead didn’t even look at him.

“You’re not good at volleyball.”

Bendy gasped, placing a hand over his heart.

“I’m good at enthusiasm.”

“That’s worse.”

“It’s a strength.”

“It’s a liability.”

Bendy leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret.

“It’s unpredictable.”

“That’s exactly the problem.”

Meanwhile, Boris sat a few feet away in the sand, legs stretched out in front of him, holding the frisbee upright against his chest like it was some kind of official badge.

His gaze moved slowly between all of you, calm and observant.

“Teams,” he said simply.

And somehow that settled it.

Teams formed quickly.

Cuphead and Bendy on one side.

Cuphead cracked his knuckles like he was about to enter a tournament.

Bendy stretched dramatically, nearly losing his balance in the process before catching himself at the last second.

“I’m ready,” he declared.

“You’re never ready,” Cuphead said.

“Emotionally, I am.”

“Same thing.”

Mugman and you on the other.

Mugman stepped into the sand with a quiet sigh, rolling his shoulders slightly like he was bracing himself.

You stood beside him, arms still slightly damp, brushing sand off your hands as you eyed the net.

“…I feel like we’re at a disadvantage,” you said.

“We are,” Mugman replied immediately.

“Wow. Okay.”

“But,” he added, glancing at you briefly, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly, “we might survive.”

“…That’s not comforting.”

“It’s realistic.”

Boris adjusted his grip on the frisbee, lifting it slightly.

“I will observe.”

“You’re the referee now?” Cuphead called.

Boris gave a small nod.

“Yes.”

“…Who decided that?”

“I did.”

Cuphead blinked.

“…Fair enough.”

The game began.

Cuphead stepped back, bouncing the ball once against the sand before catching it again, his posture shifting — more focused now.

More intense.

Way too intense for what this was.

“Ready?” he called.

“No,” Mugman said immediately.

“Great,” Cuphead replied.

He served.

Hard.

The ball cut through the air faster than expected, spinning slightly as it shot straight toward you.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Oh no—”

You swung wildly, arms flailing with zero coordination.

The ball connected, but not in the direction you intended.

It flew sideways.

Fast.

—And smacked directly into Mugman’s face.

The sound was solid.

There was a pause.

A long one.

Mugman didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

He just stood there, head tilted slightly from the impact.

Bendy collapsed instantly, dropping to his knees in the sand as he burst into laughter, one hand slapping the ground.

“I— I can’t!” he wheezed.

Cuphead doubled over, clutching his stomach as he laughed.

“That was perfect!”

Boris calmly raised one finger.

“Point.”

Mugman slowly lifted a hand to his face, rubbing the spot where the ball had hit, his expression completely blank.

“You’re banned from sports,” he said, voice flat.

“I tried!” you said, stepping toward him slightly, hands hovering like you didn’t know whether to apologize or defend yourself.

“That was an attack.”

“It was not!”

“You aimed.”

“I panicked!”

“That felt intentional.”

“It was not intentional!”

Bendy was still laughing in the background.

“I’ve never seen someone take out their own teammate so fast!”

“Silence,” Mugman muttered, not even looking at him.

The game continued anyway.

It was chaos.

Absolute, unstoppable chaos.

Bendy dove dramatically for balls he had absolutely no chance of reaching, launching himself across the sand with full commitment.

“I had it!” he shouted mid-air.

Before immediately faceplanting into the sand, a small cloud puffed up around him.

He stayed there for a second.

Then lifted his head slightly.

“…I almost had it,” he added, voice muffled.

“You were six feet away,” Cuphead said.

“It was a strategic dive.”

“You dove into absolute nothing.”

“I dove into potential.”

Cuphead didn’t respond.

He just shook his head and served again.

Harder.

Every spike from him felt like he was trying to win a championship match, his movements sharp and precise as he jumped slightly to hit the ball down with unnecessary force.

“Why are you like this?!” you called from your side.

“Winning builds character!” Cuphead shouted back.

“This is a beach!”

“Exactly!”

You hit the ball again—

This time successfully sending it over the net.

“…I did it!” you said, surprised.

Mugman glanced at you.

“Nice—”

The ball came back immediately.

Fast.

You reacted on instinct.

Swung again.

The ball ricocheted—

—And hit Mugman.

Again.

This time in the shoulder.

There was another pause.

Longer than the first.

Mugman didn’t even flinch.

He just looked at you slowly.

“…That’s two,” he said.

“I said I was sorry!”

“That felt personal.”

“It’s not personal!”

“It’s becoming personal.”

“I don’t control the ball!”

“You absolutely don’t.”

Bendy was back on his feet now, still grinning.

“This is my favorite game.”

“Of course it is,” Mugman muttered.

The rally continued.

Somehow.

Just barely.

You managed to hit the ball once more—

And somehow—

Somehow—

It hit Mugman again.

A third time.

This time, he didn’t even react.

Didn’t blink, didn’t even bother to speak.

He just stood there in silence.

Processing.

“…I’m switching teams,” he said finally.

“No you’re not,” Cuphead called immediately.

“Please take me,” Mugman added, already stepping toward the net.

“Denied,” Cuphead said.

“You don’t want me on that side.”

“I really don’t.”

“Understandable.”

Boris, still seated in the sand, slowly lowered the frisbee.

He watched the scene for a moment longer.

Then set it down beside him.

“I will stop counting,” he said.

“No one’s winning anyway.”

“Correct.”

The game dissolved from there.

Not officially but functionally.

Points stopped mattering, rules simply stopped existing.

It became less about volleyball—

And more about dodging, shouting, laughing, and occasionally surviving.

Somehow, that made it better.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸‪‪ 𓇼

By the time the sky began turning orange with sunset, everyone had collapsed onto the sand in a tired, tangled mess of limbs and laughter.

It hadn’t even been coordinated.

One moment you were all still moving — half-heartedly tossing the ball, arguing over points that no longer mattered — and the next, it was like the energy just… gave out all at once.

Cuphead dropped first, falling backward into the sand with a dramatic groan, one arm thrown over his face like he’d just survived something life-threatening.

“I’m never moving again,” he declared, voice muffled slightly.

“You say that every time,” Bendy said, immediately flopping down beside him — except less gracefully, his limbs landing at odd angles before he adjusted, kicking up sand in the process.

“This time I mean it.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You won’t.”

There was a beat.

“…Okay, maybe I won’t,” Cuphead admitted.

Boris lowered himself down more carefully, sitting first before leaning back onto his hands, stretching his legs out in front of him with a quiet exhale.

“I'm exhausted just from watching this,” he said.

Mugman dropped down a second later, sitting first before leaning back slightly, bracing himself on his hands, shoulders rising and falling a little heavier than usual.

You followed, easing down into the sand near him, your muscles still humming faintly from the day, your limbs feeling pleasantly heavy.

The air felt warmer now, softer.

The sharp brightness of the afternoon had faded into something golden.

Like the whole beach had taken a breath.

Bendy stretched dramatically, arching his back and reaching his arms high above his head, fingers spread wide.

“You know what this day needs?” he announced, glancing around like he was about to deliver something profound.

Cuphead groaned immediately, dragging his arm off his face just enough to squint at him.

“If you say fireworks—”

“A bonfire.”

There was a pause.

Cuphead blinked.

Then shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbows.

“…Actually that’s not terrible.”

“I have good ideas,” Bendy said, pointing at himself proudly.

“You have ideas,” Cuphead corrected.

“Rude.”

Driftwood was gathered in uneven stacks.

At first, it was chaotic.

Bendy picked up pieces that were far too small.

Cuphead grabbed ones that were unnecessarily large.

You carried a few in your arms, brushing sand off them as you brought them over, occasionally glancing toward Mugman, who was doing the same but more efficiently — stacking them nearby before stepping back.

Boris took over without saying much.

He knelt in the sand, adjusting the pieces with quiet precision, turning them, stacking them, building something that actually resembled a structure instead of a pile.

Bendy hovered nearby, hands on his hips.

“I am supervising,” he said.

“You are in the way,” Boris replied calmly, not even looking up.

“I am contributing.”

“You are not.”

“I am contributing morale.”

“Step back.”

Bendy stepped back.

Immediately stepped forward again.

“What if we add this one—”

“No.”

“…Okay.”

The fire crackled to life slowly.

It started small.

A flicker.

Then another.

Until the flames caught properly, curling upward in warm shades of orange and gold, the light dancing across all of your faces as the sky deepened into richer hues.

The ocean rolled gently nearby, its earlier intensity softened into something calm and steady, the waves quieter now—less forceful, more rhythmic.

The air carried a faint mix of salt and smoke.

Comforting.

Stars began appearing overhead.

One by one.

Faint at first.

Then brighter.

More of them, scattered across the darkening sky like they’d always been there — just waiting.

You sat beside Mugman on a large piece of driftwood, the surface rough beneath you, worn smooth in places by time and water.

Close enough that your shoulders almost brushed.

But not quite, not yet.

You were both aware of it.

Neither of you said anything.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

The fire popped softly, sending small sparks upward that disappeared almost as quickly as they appeared.

The waves filled the silence, steady and familiar.

Grounding.

Mugman shifted slightly beside you, adjusting his posture, one hand resting loosely against the wood, the other tracing faint, absent patterns in the sand near his feet.

“You did good today,” he said eventually, his voice quieter now — less playful than before.

You glanced at him briefly, then back at the fire.

“I hit you with a volleyball.”

“Not the part I meant,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly.

You let out a small breath that almost passed for a laugh.

“I liked surfing,” you admitted, your voice softer, your gaze fixed on the flames as they flickered and shifted.

“I knew you would,” he said.

There was something quiet in his voice.

Not teasing or even smug, just certain.

Across the fire, Bendy leaned toward Cuphead, lowering his voice in a way that was absolutely not subtle.

“I bet five bucks that they'll confess tonight,” he whispered, eyes flicking toward you and Mugman with poorly concealed interest.

Cuphead didn’t even hesitate.

“I’ll take it,” he said, just as quietly, though his grin gave him away.

Boris, sitting nearby with a stick carefully rotating a marshmallow over the fire, didn’t look up.

“Of course they will,” he said calmly.

Neither of you noticed.

Mugman stared at the sand for a moment, drawing small, uneven lines in it with a stick, the tip dragging slowly as if the motion itself was helping him think.

Helping him stall.

“I’m glad you came here,” he said quietly.

You turned your head slightly toward him.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

A pause settled between you.

Not uncomfortable.

Simply heavier, more noticeable, the kind that made everything else feel quieter by comparison.

“I don’t usually…” he started, then stopped, his grip tightening slightly on the stick before he exhaled and let it drag another line into the sand.

You didn’t interrupt.

You just waited.

He exhaled softly.

“I don’t usually let people get this close.”

Your chest tightened at that, your fingers curling slightly against your palm.

“Then… why me?” you asked, your voice quieter than before.

He briefly glanced at you, almost like holding your gaze for too long would make this harder.

“…You stayed,” he said.

The memory flickered — standing on the shore, watching him out in the water, waiting.

“You didn’t have to,” he added, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful.

“I wanted to,” you replied, just as quietly.

Another pause.

Closer now, warmer, the space between your hands felt smaller somehow.

“I quite like you,” he said.

It came out quieter than before.

Less certain, although more real, like he wasn’t hiding behind anything this time.

Your heart stumbled — actually stumbled.

“I…” you started, then stopped, your breath catching slightly as you tried to find something that didn’t feel too small.

Too clumsy.

Too obvious.

Words felt inadequate.

So you tried again.

“I quite like you too.”

Across the fire, Cuphead silently pumped his fist, biting back a grin.

Bendy immediately covered his mouth, leaning toward him.

“I told you,” he whispered, barely containing his excitement.

Boris calmly ate his marshmallow.

Mugman let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly like something he’d been holding onto all day had finally eased.

Like he hadn’t entirely expected that answer.

And then, slowly—

He reached for your hand.

Not confidently.

Not smoothly.

A little hesitant.

His fingers paused just short for half a second, giving you time to pull away.

You didn’t.

Your fingers curled around his.

His grip tightened just slightly once he realized you weren’t pulling away, his thumb brushing lightly against yours in a small, almost absentminded motion.

Your heart did something completely unreasonable.

Neither of you looked at each other right away.

That would’ve been too much.

Too obvious.

Too real.

Instead, your shoulders shifted just slightly closer.

Barely noticeable but just enough.

Enough that this time—

They brushed.

Lightly.

And neither of you moved away.

The ocean breeze drifted through the night air, soft and warm against your skin, carrying the quiet rhythm of the waves with it.

The fire crackled.

The waves rolled in quietly against the shore.

Laughter still lingered faintly in the background.

And in the space between one heartbeat and the next, everything felt still.

Like the moment had settled into place.

Like it was meant to be there.

Like maybe… just maybe…

You had found somewhere you belonged.

And someone, too.

Author's note: I think you guys can already imagine how afraid of the sea I am from the detailed descriptions of the reader going surfing for the first time. That's exactly how I felt putting my feet in the sea for the first time this year, and I definitely won't stop being afraid of it, even though I enjoyed my time floating there LMFAO.

Also, someone requested this a long time ago but I can't remember or find out who it was, but I hope you guys enjoyed this one <3

By the way the reader is so down bad for Mugman here on this one, I know how OUT OF SHAME you guys — especially the creator HERSELF of said au — are when it comes to Ink Beach Mugman, shame on all of you !!! /jk/aff

[af4ll3nst4r]

PLEASE I NEED SOME FLUFF RN

maybe bendystraw x reader if it's okay😔

BendyStraw x Reader Headcannons!

hi! I hope you don’t mind that I wrote headcannons since you didn’t specify you wanted a oneshot, but I thought this idea was really cute!

Sorry this took me so long! I lost motivation to write anything for a while.

also banner made by me :P

How you managed to have them both fall head over heels for you? Well, you didn’t exactly have an answer for that…

All you knew is that it didn’t happen instantly, it was more like you eased your way into their relationship.

It felt… natural, almost as though you were the final piece to their puzzle.

Cuphead is reckless and daring, Bendy is charming and slightly mischievous. The two are already a bunch of weirdos so adding you to the bunch might calm the boiling pot or stir it up even more.

Either way you three still have your peace filled moments of quiet time, whether it be laying in bed together, watching a movie together, or simply co-existing while each of you indulged in your own hobby.

Typically, Bendy plans most of the dates you three go on.

And being the head of date planning, Bendy often takes you two to the most fanciest dates you have ever had the privilege of laying your eyes upon. From a dazzling opera theatre that held the most intricate and detailed architecture that could put moonlight to shame or an unnecessarily expensive restaurant to which a steak costs fifty dollars.

Yet, he somehow gets a discount on it all because he’s very well acquainted with the owner. You and Cuphead are rendered speechless by his practicality when it comes to befriending others.

However, Cuphead may also take the lead and plan some of the dates you go on himself. Most of the time his dates include amusement parks, carnivals, and really any place where you can fill up on junk food and adrenaline. He’s such a sucker for that kind of stuff and won’t hesitate to drag you and Bendy along with him.

Due to his actions being committed haphazardly, you may have to take his hand and tell him to reconsider before he makes an impulsive decision. Your presence and words alone ground him, and despite acting prideful he’s grateful that you’re there to hold his hand and support him.

Bendy is subject to making dubious decisions he may regret in the later future. His morals land upon a gray area, much like other toons. However, they can still be incredibly conflicting. Talking with him about it or tugging on his sleeve with the a gentle whisper can cause him to re-think before he does something he might regret.

Moving onto something lighter, sleeping positions!

Typically, it’s a non-strict rotation of you three. Cuphead may be in the middle two days in a row, you could be in the middle for a week in a row. However, Bendy prefers to be on the side due to his small size, and being in the middle would make him feel squished and unable to breathe. Although, if you’re his near his height or shorter he wouldn’t mind it.

Cuphead is usually the one to fall asleep first, slipping into sleep a few minutes after his porcelain head hits the pillow. If you take longer to fall asleep then you and Bendy are alike in that way.

You and Bendy may have talks while Cuphead is peacefully snoozing. He enjoys listening to you tiredly talk about your day while he gets to stare lovingly at you. Your voice is practically his lullaby.

Cuphead’s snoring may get in the way of your rambling but you two have probably learned how to tune it out by now.

Although, on some rare nights, Cuphead may stay awake longer and join in on your nightly conversations. You three typically end up snickering or speaking about something serious and significant.

Yet, most of the time it’s pleasant conversation before you all drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

[junebuggiezz]

Myth of the Machine Cast/Reader HCs

𖦹—Shelly: Hellooo, what about me?

No. You're not in this episode. (She ain't in the comics yet and I don't want to mischaracterize her </3)

Gender neutral || MOTM Cast/Reader || Derealization Mugman || Mentions of Violence ||

Cuphead

Cuphead is the kind of guy to bring up partner up every three seconds. He's such a bragger and is surprisingly lovesick at times. It seems so odd to anyone that he could have a partner, but asking leads too him being a motormouth, so people just nod and go on about their day.

✦ Quality Time: Dear god, shut up (lovingly). He loves to talk your ear off and always finds a way to bother you. He somehow always finds out where you are before he leans his hand on the surface. "Come here often?" With a wink and a grin. And whether you like it or not, you're getting dragged into an area that definitely has a "Do Not Trespass" sign.

✦ Physical Touch: A arm around your shoulder or childishly locking pinkies. Cuphead always has to touch you in some form because he finds it endearing. He'll also put his head on your shoulder to look through your point of view and remind you that he is taller (and yes, he would use a stool or jump if that meant getting the point across).

✦ He's a gloat and isn't shameful about it. If he's in a fight, playing cards, or pulling magic tricks, he's always glancing at you to see your reaction. Cheer for him and that memory will be stored in his mind. Do the opposite and he's laughing awkwardly like, "Hehe... You didn't look entertained, [N/N]. Not your thing?"

✦ Elder Kettle definitely raised him right, don't get that wrong, it's just that Cuphead was the reckless type as a kid and that aspect never went away. You have stocks of bandages and rubbing alcohol at your home because the guy just cannot go five seconds without getting a mysterious scratch on him.

✦ He would teach you how to shoot a gun; With the mud he and Mugman are stuck in, he's not going down without a fight and neither are you. No matter if you're a part of his trouble or not, he's not gonna risk your wellbeing. Despite it being a serious thing, he'll make lighthearted jokes and stand behind you, giving small touches whenever he needs you to adjust your stance—almost like mild comfort for you and himself.

You squint your eye, hands wavering as you pointed at the shriveled can.

Cuphead's hand lightly pushes your hands up, his breath near your ear. "Easy... Never show your fear. They'll sniff that on ya."

✦ He whines about your absence to his brother. He audible sighs out loud and tilts his head around, throwing it back to face the ceiling with yearning.

"Oh woe is me, my [dame/handsome/lovely] [Name] isn't here to hold my hand and kiss my cheek!"

Mugman is just dry about it. Though, if he's feeling generous or annoyed, good chance you're getting a phone call from him.

✦ Makes wagers with you with simple things. Yeah, the recovering gambler, making bets about if the deer toon in the black suit will turn around and have a monocle on his eye. He grumbles whenever he loses and is cheeky about winning. Stray him from doing this as much as you can, please.

✦ As "playful" as he is about his role, he'll never play a out your safety. He's made a lot of enemies over the years. Who says they won't use you as leverage? He doesn't like puting you in harms way and doesn't want you getting hurt, or worse, killed. When the guy tells you to run, you don't question it—you run for the hills.

✦ Seeing you react negatively in any way is an insecurity of his. Anger, sadness, or anything that could traumatize you—again, because of the line of work he and Mugman are in—makes him go quiet. He fears you'll leave him, and what's worse is that he wouldn't blame you for it. You deserve someone better than what he could offer.

He takes hold of your shoulders, face leaning near you. "I swear, on everything I love, no one will ever lay a finger on ya."

"And if they do?"

"Bite it off."

Mugman

He can get serious and all, but the guy is goofy from birth, no movie. He fails at impressing you and he pulls at his collar while sweating. Performance anxiety—never lives it down, even with you around. Cuphead still makes fun of him for it and he goes beet red, yelling at him—"Why are you laughing? Please don't laugh—Oh God."

✦ Quality Time: Mugman randomly talks about books, bar stories, or history on a whim. He narrates in a way that soothes you, like you're listening to a documentary with headphones. He's probably be able to lull you to sleep and be surprised about it every time. Even when he's ranting about something, his voice never fails.

✦ Words of Affirmation: Mugman needs to know he and others are okay, you included. It helps him stay grounded and assured about your safety. Every voice of reason needs a second voice to assure them, otherwise it builds up.

✦ Mugman is a very catious guy; He subconsciously puts himself in front of you; He slowly stands in front of you in a protective manner during a confrontation; He has you walk on the sidewalk while he walks near the street. It's all about keeping you in his line of sight and out of danger. "Stay near me, alright? I don't want you getting hurt." This guy would bring you home by 11 PM if your parents asked him to.

✦ He's a physical collector. His books, weapons, trinkets—all placed neatly on shelves and kept clean from dust. He gets nervous about you seeing them for the first time in fear of finding them nerdy. Judging by the fact that you're still with him, it still blows his and Cuphead's minds to this day.

✦ He tries to hold in is violent tendencies as much as possible. He doesn't want to blow up with you around, but with his reputation as The Collector with Cuphead, he doubts that he'll tame with the next bounty he interacts with.

"Hey Mugs... I think ya got'em."

"That greasy dunderhead is still moving."

"Hehe, alright... Your target, not mine."

✦ Learn to use your fists in a fight. He wants you to put your all into it, with or without a weapon. He'd probably gift you a personalized weapon with magic. How he got it, he won't tell, but it's yours and yours only. God forbid he finds it being used by someone else or broken because whoever did so is going to meet their maker. (If it was you, it's okay, he'll just get you a new one.)

✦ He comes to your home on a whim. It's out of paranoia, concern for your safety. He has a tendency of staying the night before going back home or to "work". Cuphead sometimes has to come over and get him because he doesn't come back for days on end.

✦ Speaking of paranoia, his derealization episodes are not fun. It mainly happens after a rough job or when he's in major distress. It takes a lot of energy of out him after one and he's very clingy with you afterwards. He's had episodes where his thoughts came from "your" mouth, degrading and scared of how he'll treat you. He fears he'll act of his words or action and accidentally harm you in the process. Rest assured, you're not going anywhere.

"You okay, Mugs?"

"Y-Yeah. I just need a minute." He gulps. He takes hold of your hand, squeezing it enough to keep him grounded. He breathes, "Can you stay the night?"

You squeeze back. "I've got all the time in the world."

Bendy

He's pretty old school. The kind of guy to have you wrap your arm around his and brings you flowers for every date. His tail bends into a heart whenever you do something he likes and it is so funny. He's clenching it and trying to bend it back into shape. "What? This ol' thing? Haha! Has a mind of its own—fortheloveofeverythingthatisholy—"

✦ Gift giving: Loves making you things with his own two hands. Probably made you a necklace or music box as a keepsake, a "Token of our love!". If you need something fixed he can try. He makes no promise that it'll go well, but he'll still try.

✦ Physical touch: He looks like a hugger. As a kid, he was pretty much attached to Boris' hip and clasping his hand into his. With you, it's been quadrupled. You can't escape him. It's worse when the two of you are cuddling. It's practically lock and key. Pray that you don't have any plans that day.

✦ Bendy scares you for fun. It's an old habit of his when he was still in the entertainment industry, hiding behind props and jumping out to scare other toons. Walking up behind someone and tapping them on the shoulder, then moving to the opposite side when they try to look. It's the same treatment with you. He'll continue to do it unless you express annoyance/discomfort.

✦ He's a smooth talker and he uses that to his advantages whenever you're upset. Even if it's something small, he acts swauve and lets words roll off his tongue to explain why he should be forgiven for such a minor thing! It has worked so many times on you it's embarrassing. He has a secret tally board on how many times it worked in his favor.

✦ Takes you out to bar dates or does at-home dinners. He doesn't have the means to be fancy or anything but that doesn't mean improv is off the table!

"Wear your best outfit, sunshine, 'cause do I have a place for us to go!"

And it's just a blanket in the park.

He does his best.

Do accept it.

✦ Bendy isn't much of a fighter. Even so, most of the stuff he knows was either taught to him by Boris, through movie stunts, or cheap tricks (biting, scratching, kicking). He tries to teach you the same thing, but it kind of falls flat sometimes. Most likely would give you a pocket knife and tell you to do what you need to do. Still, that doesn't mean he'll allow you to get hurt. "Do whatever you want with me! But you better keep your grubby hands offa them!"

✦ Being an ex-entertainer, he randomly pulls you in for dances or acts as if he were interviewing you. It's very silly, yes, but it's what makes the two of you laugh. He loves hearing you laugh. He'd record it and listen to it 24/7 if he could. He both enjoys and loathes the moments he has with you because of the Blot.

✦ As much as he wants to hold you in his arms forever, he fears his disease will act up around you. He'll abruptly push you off of him sometimes and apologize profusely. It's a very sensitive subject for him. He knows and accepted that he could die, so he tries to make the most of it with you—but he sometimes has a habit of pushing you away so you'll detach from him.

"You know about disease, you know what's gonna happen to me."

"And that doesn't mean I'll leave you." You say as you take hold of his hands, "I'm with you 'til the end."

Boris

It took some time for the two of you to click. You'd have to be his friend for a long time before he considers his feelings for you. It surprised Bendy on both occasions, but he's proud of Boris for stepping out there. It may not seem like Boris changed much once you date but trust me, there are aspects that change in the dynamic. He may seem plain by the public, but he's just a silent lover.

✦ Acts of service: A book sliding in your direction when you look bored. Making you breakfast long before you've woken up. You're his top priority no matter what. No matter how small the problem is, it's meant to be solved first. He feels as if he doesn't help, he'll be in the wrong for not putting in effort. Let him know that he can't solve everything. Calm him down.

✦ Words of affirmation: Him letting you know you have a right to feel a certain way just by looking at your expression. He knows how to read body language and makes sure he says the right thing. He doesn't want much escalation on either end.

✦ Accidental scary dog privileges—meanwhile, his tail wags the moment he notices you. People can't imagine how you "tamed" him. It's like they see Boris as this domesticated dog with a pink apron that reads "Kiss the Cook". It's comical on your end, Boris is already used to this.

✦ He's lazy. He's not a slob, but he would hold off doing something and do it ahead of time or the next day. He'd also probably walk up to you laying down and slam on top of you for a nap. "Trust me... Five more minutes." (Spoiler: it was an hour.)

✦ He likes being pat on the head during his lazy hours. You know those low snores/snorts that some dog do? He does that sometimes and grumbles to you if you poke fun of it. God forbid a man get the best rest of his life in his partner's lap.

✦ His protective trait kicks in with you by default. He's not the jealous type, just kind of stiffens his posture and stares when someone comes up to you, even if they're innocent. It's what scares people off in the first place and he does apologize for it.

✦ Boris is pretty hesitant about meeting new people. Even if you've known them for a long time, he doesn't find himself attempting to gravitate to them. He means no harm by it, he just has a hard time befriending people. (He seems more of a quality of quantity type)

✦ He teaches you to use your surroundings in a fight. Your fists, too. Use it when necessary, make it so you're doing it out of self defense, and don't throw out your morals for it. "You're doing it to immobilize them, not to kill."

✦ He fears you'll find him boring. At this point in his life he isn't doing much, living with his brother and making ends meet. You coming into his life took him for a loop and he doesn't want you to feel like he's dating you out of obligation or as another responsibility.

Boris lifts his head from your stomach, glancing up at you with a tired, saddened look. "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course. Why? Where is this coming from?"

He sighs lowly, carefully placing his head back down. "...Just making sure you don't forget that."

𖦹—I feel like some parts are OOC, but maybe that's just me ヘ⁠（⁠。⁠□⁠°⁠）⁠ヘ