Spanish Affectionate Names (because We Can Do Better Than Using “mi Amor” A Hundred Times)

happy barbenheimer week! ✨✨ some doodles

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❣ 𝘊 𝘙 𝘜 𝘚 𝘏 ❣ || 𝘞𝘶𝘬𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘟 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵

» crush (ethel cain) « 0:21 ─〇───── 3:20

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ One day I'll decide how I wanna format shit lmao. ➤ This is a oneshot. ➤ This is romantic. ➤ Reader is gender neutral (except for one use of "maiden" in reference to you). ➤ This oneshot includes Dragonhead/Triad!Wukong, who is apart of the Triad AU belonging to @skittlescripts! ➤ This oneshot in based off @dumplingsjinson's 4th unrequited-but-not-actually-unrequited-love prompt!! I originally had it here but decided to delete it incase you'd like to go into this kinda blind lol. ➤ If this is dumb I'm sorry I haven't had a genuine crush since like 2nd grade /gen. Also romance is NOT my strongsuit despite how much I read LMAO. ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include profanity, denial of feelings, avoidance, lying, self-deprecation, angst, and crying. ➤ Word count: 4,297

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

❝ Camo jacket, robbing corner stores; hard odds to beat when you're on all fours .❞

You didn't want this.

You didn't want this.

It started off innocently enough—a blush when you caught the Great Sage's eye, a bit of a tremble to your voice or your knees when his hand brushed yours, squealing into your pillows when he gave you gifts. Embarrassing reactions, yes, but not surprising. Afterall, whole gods have found themselves swooning for the Monkey King even if they've a snowball's chance in hell at actually gaining his affections—what chance did your mortal self stand against the demon's wicked charm? But surely your little... celebrity crush didn't mean anything significant.

Except it did.

You barely ever had crushes growing up, much less attractions so passionate you could call them love. But with Wukong, it came far too easily. You loved the way he spoke, the way he held himself, the way he managed to create a community of loyal allies despite his many enemies. But then you also loved the simple things—his real laugh, the one that made him clutch his stomach and cackle until tears were dripping from his eyes; the way his tail swayed like a dog's and curled into a heart when he was excited; the way he smelt of peaches and flowers, as if he was a whole world just for you to—

No!

No, no, no!

This is how the greatest friendships crashed and burned. An insistent crush and a hopeful heart and a two-timing brain poisoning you with sweet what-ifs and flowery dreams is all it takes for you to make one irreversible, permanent step; for you to pour your heart out only to hear we can still be friends! and watch him drift away.

Well, not you. You weren't going to risk breaking your heart nor your and Wukong's friendship over a crush, no matter how serious. So after many sleepless nights of brainstorming (and daydreaming... goddamnit, brain!), you finally devised a plan to squash your feelings for the Monkey King.

1.) Create distance physically.

You tap your fingers against your thigh anxiously, fighting the urge to scratch angry red blotches into the skin while you wait for Wukong to pick up your call. You thought this method would be easiest for enacting Step 1, hoping Wukong and Macaque wouldn't be able to pick out any lies over the phone, but with how long it's taking him to answer, maybe it'd be easier to avoid him the hard way—

"Hey, peaches!" Wukong's cheery voice greets over the line, making you huff in relief. "What's up? You're not calling to ask if you can come up, right? Because you know I've told you you can just come, riiighttt?"

Your heart swoons ridiculously, and you have to aggressively remind yourself that hanging out with Wukong is the exact opposite of what you want to achieve.

"Yessss, I remember," you force out in a nasally, cracking voice that you pray sounds convincing. "But no, that's not why I'm calling."

"Oh, peaches, are you sick?" Wukong asks worriedly, and you can feel his furrowed eyebrows through the phone.

"No," you snark, and then you force out some rough-sounding coughs, grimacing at the way your throat stings. "This happens every year. Sometime near spring I get super sick for like a month—might be the pollen or something, I dunno."

"I never noticed," Wukong replies softly. "I'm sorry, peaches. I woulda helped you before if I'd realized."

Your heart flips again and you lean away from the phone to form a silent scream before returning. "It's—cough—fine. I'm a big girl, a little springtime bug isn't going to kill me. But it is gonna keep me in my house for a few weeks."

"In that case, why don't I let Macaque handle things for a bit and come over—"

"No!" You snap out, your hand immediately smacking over your mouth at the outburst. Fuck! You think, mind racing to recover from your fumble. You let out a series of coughs as you think, then lick your lips. "S-Sorry... while it means a lot that you'd do that for me, when I get like this... it's just easier to handle it alone. I don't really have the energy to be around people or have them around me."

You cross your fingers, your opposite hand gripping your clothes in a white-knuckle grip as a few beats of silence pass. God, let him believe me so I can hang up—

"Alright, peaches," Wukong replies softly, and you have to lean back so he won't hear the relieved huff of air you let out. You're so busy rejoicing you nearly miss what he says next. "But I'm still going to drop food off to you, alright?" Seeming to sense a coming argument from you, he adds, "I'll just drop it off at your door and send you a message."

You sigh, a small smile forcing it's way on to your face despite the situation still not being as perfect as you'd hoped for. "Guess I can't stop you, sunshine."

"Nope!" Wukong laughs, popping the p. "Get well soon! Who knows what mischief I'll be up to without my angel to keep me on the path of grace?" He cooes with a subtle purr to his words. A wild blush blooms on your face, burning your ear tips as you soak in what he said.

"You're supposed to be able to do that on your own, Great Sage," you croak out, burying your flushed face in your unused hand even though the cheeky monkey isn't here to see it.

"What's the fun in that?" Wukong snickers. Then his voice softens, squeezing your heart. "But seriously, take care of yourself, peaches. If you need space, that's fine, but if you need help, ask. There's nothing you could do that would chase me away."

What he says is sweet, so sweet, and dream-like. His words make you think of a fairytale, with you a fair maiden and him a brave, persistent, dragon-slaying knight.

But life's not a fairytale, and things won't go your way just because you wish on a star.

"Will do, Wuks," you say quietly. "Bye."

"Bye, peaches."

Beep-beep.

Step 1... achieved.

2.) Create distance emotionally.

You couldn't just get rid of your crush (well, you probably could, but that'd entail some magical mumbo jumbo you're not quite desperate enough for yet), but maybe you could weaken it by limiting how much exposure you had to Wukong. Hard, considering how popular he was, but surely not impossible!

So, to start off easy, you got rid of your merch. You were able to sell most of it online, but the more stuff you got rid of, the more... upset you felt. Which made sense, sure—it was stuff you loved, of course, and if you hadn't fallen in love with one of your best friends, you'd never part with it—, but your thoughts felt... insane. You found yourself wondering if people would take care of it, if they'd love it and find the same joy in it that you did.

The idea of someone doing anything less made your skin crawl, and for a few brief moments, you considered doing full deep dives on buyers to make sure the merch was going to a good home. Then you reasoned you sounded absolutely obnoxious, like some creepy fangirl and not a close friend of Sun Wukong, and gave the rest away without any further hesitance.

Goddamn, did it sting though.

True to his word, Wukong stopped by your house once every few days with food and medicine. At first, you were worried he'd try to talk to you or ask to come in, but the only way you even knew he'd been there was when he alerted you with a message. You were grateful for it, but words couldn't describe the relief you had that he left no gifts in the bags.

If he had, that might have set you right back to square one.

Your house felt... empty without Wukong's memorabilia, but you chopped it up to your distaste for change. Obviously the nearly crippling discomfort in your own home was because of the now-barren walls (no way it was because you'd just given away dozens of priceless items...), so you bought some pretty posters of bands, artists, and games you liked and hung them on the wall. It wasn't the same, but you supposed that within time, it'd become your new normal.

You decided to ignore the way that settles on your body like a sad cloud.

Now... for the harder part.

Aside from merch, Wukong had gotten you plenty of personal items. Clothes, jewelry, perfumes, cooking utensils you'd been eyeing, plushies, that sort of thing. You knew just by looking at it that it was expensive, probably things that would land you in debt for life if you'd bought it yourself, and rare, too. Likely some one-of-a-kind stuff, too, knowing Wukong.

You spent three nights despairing over what to do with them. Giving them away to the masses felt disrespectful to say the least, and with the way your heart shrieked, you decided to listen. Throwing them out didn't feel much better, neither did burying them (yeah... you were thinking of everything)... but you couldn't keep them. No, no, no, it'd just encourage your stupid crush if you caved and kept anything, especially the personal stuff!

So you did the only thing you could think of: give it to your family.

It still didn't feel great either way, but at least you knew they were being cared for. And if Wukong happened to ask for any of it back, it'd be easy to retrieve.

You expect to feel relieved at having found a solution, but it only fills you with dread.

All that's left are the notes.

You keep them in a pretty box in your desk. It's a deep red covered in bright splashes of color meant to resemble fireworks, with bright iron hinges on the back so it could open and close. It's perfectly pristine without so much a speck of dust upon it, it's well-cared for appearance taunting you as you lift it out of its drawer and sit on your bed.

You know you shouldn't look at them, but it's not like it'll change anything—you already have them memorized by heart, anyway.

Dear (name), "Sunshine", huh? Can't say it reflects much of who I am as an infamous, invincible god, but I'll take it over "simian" anyday! I think I'll call you "peaches" in return. It has a nice ring, doesn't it? Sunshine and peaches. Like two peas in a pod. Anyway. I hope you like the clothes!

You laugh softly as you read the note. This had been after you mistakenly let your unspoken nickname for him slip after one of his meetings, flustering both you and the unprepared Dragonhead. Despite your furious blush and profuse apologies, Wukong had made you explain your reasoning behind the nickname (which was mostly Macaque's fault—damn him and his "sun and moon" bullshit). You were mortified, thinking you'd set your and Wukong's relationship way back, but when he started calling you peaches...

Sunshine stuck, and you two really did become peas in a pod.

You've torn through the whole box of notes by the time you realize there are tears running down your cheeks, and the realization does little to change that. Instead, you bend over and press your hands to your face, open-mouthed sobs wracking your body.

Why'd it have to be him? You could've fallen hopelessly in love with anyone, and your heart chose him?

Wukong isn't the problem. No, not at all. Next to you, the Monkey King seems wild, volatile, too much. But that's only because you're a, well, mortal, incapable of shining even half as brightly as he does. Wukong's a god, an immortal king, a being who'd felled thousands in mere moments—your best friend deserves someone who could meet him at his level, not force him into some domestic role.

Someone better than you.

The realization sends a sharp wave rocking through your chest, but with it comes some rush of desperation—you don't know if it's to fight for or against something, but it leads you to pluck one of the notes from its place on the bed,

turn it over so you can't see the words,

and fucking shred it.

That night, as you lie amongst the torn pieces of paper, you can't help but feel like a sole survivor among a ruined city.

Step 2 is done.

3.) Find somebody else.

You have to admit, step 3 was definitely a desperate plan B if nothing else worked, and, well...

Nothing else was working.

Your "sick" month had passed, and you were now three months into cold-turkeying Wukong. You were honestly surprised the Monkey King hadn't broken into your house yet, but based on some demon conflicts you'd seen on the news, you figured he was busy.

But that wasn't the problem. What was the problem was your crush hadn't waned in the slightest! In fact, your attempts to get rid of it had only made you want to run further into Wukong's arms, where you'd be drowned in the scent of peaches and flowers and the feeling of soft fur and a strong body against your's and—

Goddamnit!

Part of you felt... tired. Sick of what you perceived as dramatic and begging for a break from the heartache. It whispered to you, questioning how good Wukong was to keep around if he would cut you loose just for a crush—even saying that it'd be good for you! Save you the trouble and put you on the path of healing before it got real bad... whatever that meant.

But the other half of you fought and it fought hard. You wanted Wukong, even if it meant you could only have him as a friend. He made you feel good and you'd die before giving that up—that was why you'd started this whole mess in the first place!

Besides. You were a mortal, temporary and simple. And adaptable and well-aged as he was, Wukong was still a several-millennium old god. Rules, unspoken or otherwise, were bound to look different for various relationships, and as far as you were concerned, falling head-over-heels, squealing-into-your-pillows and feet-kicking in love with one you called your best friend was written in big red letters right under no.

So you're here at a café (far away from Wukong's headquarters, you made sure), sitting across from... your date.

They're gorgeous. With fawn-colored skin, soft brown eyes, and blonde, orange dipped wavy hair, they make you think of summer, of singing birds and beach days and ice cream in the park. And they're sweet, easily cracking jokes with you and complimenting you without overwhelming you.

But they're not Wukong, and the way you remain acutely aware of that as you share sweet treats with them destroys any hope you had of growing out of this crush.

You're trying to think of ways to let them down gently when you hear the door chime go off. A new customer isn't earth-shattering (it's a public establishment, after all), but a chorus of sharp gasps and your date's frightened stare looking past you makes you turn.

And, god, you wish you hadn't.

Wukong walks into the café calmly, his face unreadable as he scans the booths. You're fairly certain you already know why he's here, but when his eyes meet yours you just know you're fucked.

The café owner bee-lines to Wukong. "G-Great Sage!" They greet, bowing low. "What brings you here?"

Wukong doesn't break eye contact with you. "Nothing to do with you," he answers smoothly before approaching you in long strides.

You can do nothing but watch as he approaches, pinning your tongue between your teeth as you hold the intensity of his stare. Your date, seemingly noticing the tension between you two, reaches out to grasp your hand, but you gently pull away with a shake of your head.

"I'm sorry," you whisper sincerely, sliding enough money for the meal towards them just before Wukong reaches your booth.

The monkey eyes your date, unblinking. If this was any other situation (one where you hadn't avoided him for three months), you'd give him a gentle kick to the leg or something so he'd knock it off. But the situation is too tense, his presence too damning, and you're grateful for the few seconds you get from out beneath the demon's fiery gaze.

"Peaches," he finally murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "We need to talk."

Fuck.

You get up without a word, placing your purse over your shoulder and heading towards the front door with your eyes on your feet. You can feel everyone's eyes on you—or rather, the two of you, as Wukong walks beside you until you reach the door, which he opens for you. Then he follows you out, staying just far enough behind you that he doesn't step on your heels.

Neither of you speak until you get to a bridge, void of people and surrounded by cherry blossom trees. Wukong stops beside you as you peer over the edge.

"Peaches," he says, his voice still soft. "What's going on?"

Fuck.

You immediately deflect. "How did you find me?"

You hear him suck in a breath.

"How?" You hiss out, glaring up at him.

He stares at you in silence for a moment, then turns on his phone. As he presses a button, your phone vibrates in your hand.

"You tracked my phone?" You ask, blinking owlishly.

"You weren't answering me," replies Wukong simply, pocketing his phone again.

Your face flushes in frustration. "I was out—"

"For three months?"

That makes you go silent. Your phone vibrates again, making the screen light up. You can see Wukong's name in your notifications, but you dare not look to see how many there are, lest it condemn you further.

"You know, I went to your house," Wukong carries on, his voice thickening. "All the stuff I got you is gone."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

"Yeah," you mumble, your gaze falling to the ground.

"Why? Did you not like it?"

You're torn between honesty and further denial. In the end, Wukong speaks before you can make a choice.

"You didn't throw out the notes."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"It took—" his voice chokes out for a second. Your body tenses, your hands turning to white-knuckled fists at your sides. You don't look up. "It took a lot to put them together, surprisingly. Were really dedicated when you tore 'em up, huh?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Did you lie about being sick? Did you... were you just trying to get away from me?"

"It's not like that," you say, rushed, and you know as soon as the words leave your lips that you shouldn't have spoken.

"Then what is it like?" Wukong chokes out in a thick voice, but you still refuse to look him in the eye.

"I... needed alone time," you mumble.

"Why couldn't you say that?" Wukong replies, a bit of sharpness to his tone, and you can't help but feel like you've opened up the floodgates. "Do I make you feel so unsafe that you'll lie to get away from me?"

"Don't assume things about me," you snap hotly, your eyes flickering to his. They glow with a subtle red color, fixated on you, a testament to his growing emotion in the situation. But that's not what gets you.

It's the tears collecting in his eyes.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

"What else am I supposed to do?" He grits outs. "You ignored me for three months. You didn't even text back to say if you were still sick, or if you just wanted me to stop contacting you—"

"Wukong, I—" you try, taking a step backward when the monkey flings his arms.

"And you didn't answer MK or Macaque, either!"

"Wukong—"

"You scared the shit out of me, peaches!"

"And I'm sorry for that," you bite out, managing to shut him up for a minute. You gulp, your grip on your purse tightening. "But I had... I have a problem I have to fix—"

"What is it? If you would just tell me I could help!" Wukong exclaims, reaching towards you.

"No!" You shout, twisting away from him. "You can't help, Wukong!"

"You don't know that!"

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

"I do! I do know that!"

"How?! How could—"

"BECAUSE HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA FIX ME LOVING YOU?"

Wukong falls silent. Still. Your hands slap over your mouth.

The two of you stand in silence for what feels like forever. The river feels deathly silent, and not even the wind blows. Finally, you remove your hands.

"I-I mean, I can fix it, don't worry," you say quickly, the words spilling from your lips like water. "T-These feelings are temporary, I promise. They're just, uh, a b-bit more stubborn than I was expecting, y-y'know? But they're nothing serious, I swear! I-I know I've been difficult these past few months, I know, I'm sorry, just, please, Wukong, don't leav—"

"They're what?" is all Wukong utters, his stare burning through you.

You startle for a second, hands dropping to your chest. "T-They're temporary," you repeat. "Not serious, I swear. Nothing has to change."

Wukong doesn't reply at first. Then:

"What if I want them to be serious?"

Your heart nearly stops in your chest at the force of your surprise. "What?" is all you can get out, staring owlishly at the demon.

"I said," he speaks slowly, stepping towards you. "What if I want them to be serious? To be permanent? What if I want you to be head over heels for me, hm?"

You shiver as he stands before you, hands ghosting over your hips.

"What if I want it all to change, peaches?"

Your heart thumps in your chest, your mind desperately trying to make sense of what he's saying.

Surely he's not... he doesn't mean...

"I don't understand," you whisper, your hands hesitantly pressing against his chest.

"Oh, peaches," he cooes softly, leaning in until his forehead rests against your's and all you can see are his eyes.

"Wu—"

"I love you, (name)."

Your breath catches in your throat, your mouth falling open in shock. Your entire body freezes, your thoughts halted as you process his words...

and then your heart soars.

"Me?" You crack out, a blush warming your skin exponentially. It's a bit overwhelming, the mix of love, surprise, and unfiltered relief. So much so that you can't stop the tears from building up in your eyes and slipping out as you stare up at him. "You love me?"

"Of course," Wukong says softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your tears away. "How couldn't I?"

A sob leaves your mouth at the question. "'C-Cause you're... I'm—"

"Simple?" Wukong ventures, frowning at your nod. He huffs, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "Peaches, you are anything but simple. You're brilliant and talented and witty and a quick-learner. You keep me guessing even now, and I've been around for a while," he soothes sweetly, a breath of laughter to his voice.

You can't help but laugh a little with him, your heart swelling at his compliments. Your hands slide up his chest and his neck, feeling the soft fur slide through your fingers, and settle on his cheeks. You mirror him then, your thumbs petting his cheek bones and brushing away the wetness in his eyes. Another wave of fresh tears overcomes you when he leans into your hands.

"You're the closest thing to perfection I've ever seen," Wukong murmurs emotionally, one of his hands retracting to engulf one of your's. "You're my girl. My peach. My qíng rén."

A sob breaks free of your lips again as you pull Wukong against you, hiding your face in his chest as you cry. The Dragonhead curls around you, as if shielding you from the outside world, which you're thankful for.

Damn. All of this to find out the great Monkey King loves you back? You're not complaining, god no! Despite your tears, your heart is doing tricks, somersaults and great leaps and cartwheels. It's just...

You definitely have some communication skills to work on, you think.

That can wait, though, you think then, your crying finally tapering out. You manage to tilt your head enough to see Wukong's face, the demon smiling down sweetly at you. Your fingers fiddle with his tie for a moment before drifting upwards and holding his face again.

"Peaches," Wukong calls softly, holding your gaze. "What're you thinking?"

You pause before answering. "I... I want to kiss you," you admit, watching the monkey's face turn a red hue similar to your's. "Can I?"

His ears wiggle, his nose twitches, and then he nods, and you can feel his tail wagging by your legs.

The time for picking on his adorable monkey mannerisms will come later, because right now all you're focused on is bringing Wukong's lips to your's and finally knowing how it feels to kiss the Great Sage.

It's done at an awkward angle since Wukong didn't let you go, the both of you straining a bit to meet each other in the middle, and you break away fast, but it's perfect to you. Maybe not how you imagined a requited crush kiss going, but it's your greatest wish come true in spite of that.

"I love you," he breathes.

Your breath catches again, your heart still flipping ecstatically. "Say it again."

Wukong grins, fangs peeking out of his smile. "I love you, qíng rén."

As you bring the Dragonhead into another kiss, you think of one thing.

Maybe fairytales do exist after all.

❝ Good men die too, so I'd rather be with you .❞

The holy trinity

Prompt: Ex boyfriend of MK kidnaps him until Red Son and the gang rescue him

Sorry if you have done this one already

It was well known that Qi Xiaotian had a history.

It was not a history of good decisions. Not that he did anything wrong, but his exes were not good people. Cheating on him, framing or hitting on Xiaojiao so Xiaotian would cut her out, abusive, super transphobic, or just being a bad person in general, the list went on. Xiaotian was embarrassed by it but at least the weirder ones were a good drunk story.

This would not be a good drunk story.

“What the fuck, Haoran?!” Xiaotian scrabbled against the ropes tying him tight, his wrists tied behind him. One minute, he had been parking the tuk-tuk outside the shop. The next, brown fur had invaded his vision as his ex had grabbed him, tied him, and tossed him in the back of his van.

And it was still gross, with cigarette marks littering the seats and the smell of takeout (and the containers) taking up the floor. Empty alcohol bottles clinked together. “Shut up, Xiaotian!” Haoran shot back, his claws digging into the wheel. Shit, he still didn’t look at the road when he drove?! “I’m doing this for us!”

Xiaotian gaped, mind trying to connect dots before he could sputter something out. “Wha- You dumped me!” Literally. Haoran had ordered Xiaotian to get out after a long drunk drive that involved arguing about kids. He had dumped him on the side of the road and then sped off. Xiaojiao was a lifesaver.

“Well, you’ve improved yourself!” Haoran said, anger dying down to be replaced by cheerfulness. Xiaotian gaped at him, raising a brow. The bear turned and grinned at him, yellowed teeth glinting in the light. “With your whole Monkie Kid schtick, you’ve really shot up in the world!”

“I didn’t do it for you!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah-” Haoran swerved to avoid another car and Xiaotian grunted as his head slammed into the window. “Lie all you want babe. I know you still got the hots for me and I’m giving you the chance to prove it.”

Ugh, he wasn’t gonna let him go, was he?

Xiaotian once again tried to pick at the knots wrapped around his wrists. All he needed was his staff, because he certainly didn’t trust his ex’s driving enough to shrink, find a hole and slip out of. Haoran was sloppy with everything, from cleaning to lovemaking, so surely-

Oh come on. Were knots the one thing he cared about?

“-got a nice little place where we can lay low- HEY!”

The van screeched to a stop and Xiaotian yelped as he nearly toppled over. Haoran was yelling at someone before the driver door was wrenched open and a familiar red hand shot out and yanked the bear demon out. The next moment, the van door slid open. “Xiaotian!”

He craned his neck and grinned at the familiar green eyes. “Xiaojiao!”

“I am so sorry!” Xiaojiao apologized as she pulled out a switchblade and cut through the ropes. “I should’ve come sooner-”

“It’s not your fault,” Xiaotian sighed, hugging her. “I’m just glad you and Red are here.” The shouting was still going on. Curious, he glanced over and felt his face flush.

Right, Red was fucking hot. Especially now, as the demon prince, his bull form out and exposed, glared silently at the bear demon that dared to lay a hand on his Noodle Boy. When Haoran’s yelling and frantic struggle finally died down, Red finally spoke.

“Keep your hands off him.”

And just like that, Haoran was slammed into the pavement, left stunned in a him-shaped hole. Xiaotian froze as Red’s head shot in his direction, burning eyes boring into his skin and deep into his soul. Heat soared through him.

Gods, he was so handsome.

And strong, based on how easily he lifted Xiaotian up into his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, lightly bumping his forehead against his. “His stink is all over you.”

Xiaotian smiled, pressing a kiss to his nose, right above his pretty nose ring. “I’m good.” he sighed. “I’m lucky to have you.”

The first good decision in his history.

BARBENHEIMER - July 21, 2023

The most ambitious crossover event in history (artists cited under the cut!)

I hyperlinked the original posts to the artist handle wherever possible so go show the artists some love!! ROW 1: @JohnBeLucky on Reddit @anglespizza on Twitter (they made this for a class-iconic) @whovianrad on Twitter @shadowknightdk on Twitter @BossLogic on Twitter ROW 2: @rahalarts on Instagram @justralphy on Instagram @GrungiestBunny on Instagram, available as a poster here @envelopandkissme on Tumblr (I think? idk this one was hard to find) @shirtsthtgohard on Twitter, available for purchase here ROW 3: @omarg294 on Twitter (possibly not the original source) @raichu.copper on Instagram/@raichucopper on Twitter @galactic_psychedelia Instagram, available on Redbubble here @thesenatortheatre on Instagram (possibly not the original source) @nannymcghee on Tik Tok

ROW 4: Retro Travel Design on Redbubble @rahalarts on Instagram @stevereevesart on Instagram @jonattfieldart on Instagram @gringgieespons on Tik Tok

ROW 5: @BossLogic on Instagram/@BossLogic on Twitter @rahalarts on Instagram @nolanlounds Tik Tok @seanlongmore Instagram @Cornettogod on Twitter

ROW 6: @readfulthings on Instagram (aka Adam Perocchi) I cannot find this artist but you can buy the shirt here and here @moviemantis on Instagram (possibly not the original source, idk) Jason P on LinkedIn (ok career barbie!!) and finally, you can buy the shirt here

huge love to all the incredibly talented artists that put their work on the internet for free for all of us to look at, we love you!! (please sign/watermark your works though, the amount of art theft I found while looking these up made me sad for you)

anti-shoutouts: to google for nerfing their reverse image search with google lens (seriously-CHANGE IT BACK), to twitter for making it almost impossible to use the website after I deleted my account, and to basically no one on tik tok (or any other social media site for that matter) for crediting artists because that made tracking down the original posts so much harder than it needs to be :')

malleus draconia relationship headcanons

this is basically a part 2 of his kinks & hcs post but i am very much a whore for this man so i NEED. TO. WRITE SOME SHIT.

warnings: smut/nsfw, malleus being a loser virgin, it gets very smutty at the nsfw part so, oral (receiving + giving), unprotected sex, two dicks, implied corruption/humiliation kink, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, choking/biting, mal being lowkey sadistic, sleepy sex, holy shit there are alot of warnings i am sorry, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

words: 2.5k

~

sfw

this is some serious sappy shit but i can’t help it 😭😭 i am literally so in love with this man damn

~ right off the bat, malleus would definitely be the best boyfriend ever and no one can convince me otherwise (or at least one of the best out of the twst cast cuz there’s some uh questionable characters in that list *idia and leona i am directly looking at you*)

~ the way your relationship builds up with malleus is agonisingly slow. he’s very cautious about who he gets close to and is definitely not one to make any bold moves—especially if he doesn’t feel like you’re reciprocating the same feelings—but oh boy. once you do, that’s when he gets a bit more excited. 

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everyone else fought me i just expected you were going to fight me too

👓🕷️

I work at a movie theater.

And personally? To be in the tickets booth, and see young girls, teenagers, adult women, coming in to see Barbie,

the most highlighter pink outfits, some of them coming in with the dolls they’re dressed as, laughing to each other, cheering for each other,

to see the men they’re coming to see it with, dressed in pink, cheering them on, taking their pictures with smiles and cheers in the lobby at the photo op

touches something so deep in me

I can’t say any nuances of the movie that haven’t already been said, but like, fuck man, love is so deep and so kind and to be able to see glimpses of it from behind my little ticket desk makes me a little less nihilistic.