#snowpea writes

[therentyoupay]

I got one, I got one!!! Spaceboy!!

kris' thoughts: okay this is the first one i've done so far that didn't include "snow" in it, so this is a fun twist. 😂 "space" makes me think of the Moon, which makes me think of Manny, okay, here we go—

p.s. this officially part 3 of the brand new fic call me, in which i will be writing one drabble/one-shot/ficlet each day every day until christmas eve, entirely based on the petname prompts i get in my askbox. so. bear with me. 😂 this will be a ride lmao. start at part i if you haven't read snowpea or snow bunny yet!

❆ snowpea ❆ snow bunny ❆ spaceboy ❆

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❆ spaceboy ❆

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The evening air in Burgess was crisp and filled with laughter. A small group of children, bundled up in coats and scarves, stood beneath Jack Frost’s latest masterpiece, ignoring the calls of distant parents summoning their children home for dinner. He floated a few feet above the ground, spinning his staff in lazy arcs, conjuring snowflakes that hovered like tiny stars. With a flick of his wrist, he guided them into constellations; Elsa blinked. Those weren't just random clusters of snowflakes... the patterns mimicked the shapes of celestial figures no less than the Orion (The Hunter), Gemini (The Twins), and Sagittarius (The Archer).

“Whoa, is that a dragon?” one of the older kids exclaimed, pointing to a particularly elaborate design Jack had made up on the spot; this one was not one of the known constellations.

“Not a dragon, Wes,” Jack corrected with a grin. “That’s the constellation Frosticus Majesticus. Legendary hero of the winter cosmos.”

The children burst into giggles, their breath misting in the frosty air. “That’s not real!” one of them cried, though their awe suggested it didn't matter. Elsa watched from the outskirts, wondering if she should join in, but decided not to.

“Not real?” Jack pressed a hand dramatically to his chest, feigning deep offense. “You wound me, kid. You hear me, Evelyn? Wound! This is premium cosmic artistry you’re witnessing!”

“Elsa!” one of the children called out, shocking her out of her reverie. “Can you make stars too?”

Jack turned to her with a smirk, and she was pinned. “Yeah, Snow Bunny—show us what you got.”

Elsa sent him a look, but without much heat; the kids were cheering, after all. Elsa sighed, her lips twitching in the ghost of a smile, and with a graceful flick of her wrist, she sent icy tendrils spiraling upward. They glittered in the moonlight, weaving a delicate lattice that intertwined with Jack’s constellations, and then shimmered and separated and shifted, settling into filler-stars between the great constellations, deepening the sky.

The kids erupted into cheers. “You made it even better!” one said, while another added, “It’s like a winter galaxy!”

Jack huffed, mock-offended. “Better? I don’t know about that.”

Elsa arched a brow at him. “Do you want me to take it down?”

He grinned. “Nah. You can stay in my galaxy, I guess.”

Brow raised. "So generous."

The kids stubbornly stayed until the cold began to bite, reluctantly heading home at their parents’ calls, at last. Jack waved them off with exaggerated bows, while Elsa gave quiet nods and gentle goodbyes and a few extra waves to those who couldn't quite seem to stop turning around. When the last of the children disappeared around the corner, a hush settled over the snowy park.

Elsa shifted, preparing for another portal journey, but Jack made no move to retrieve his snow globe. She watched him, as Jack stayed determinedly put, and instead lifted his face to the sky.

"They are pretty cool," he said, apropos of nothing; his voice was quieter now, the playful bravado fading. "Right?"

Elsa followed his gaze, but wasn't sure what to say. Carefully, she echoed, "Cool?"

"Yeah, you know. Interesting. Fun to think about."

Elsa fought to hide her impatience. With measured tones, she clarified, "I do know what 'cool' means. I'm wondering, rather, what you find so interesting bout them, in particular."

Jack sent her side glance. "Can't a guy have interests?"

"Yes, but yours have thus far been rather limited to pranks, reckless dives, dangerous feats, and initiating miniature wars among the children."

"Wars! Giving me an awfully lot of credit, there, for a few snowball fights, arent'cha?"

"You are very competitive."

Elsa wasn't expecting his smile. He looked at her like... he knew something she didn't. She couldn't let that slide, she needed to ask him, but he turned back to the sky and said—

"You know, super quiet, starry nights like this remind me of the first time I saw the stars and Moon as a Guardian.”

Elsa tilted her head, intrigued. Jack had never spoken to her before about his transformation; she didn't yet know all the rules of this life and this—this family—but she understood well enough that One's Story (the true one, the one that was not shared in the storybooks) was earned.

Softly, “The first time?”

“Yeah.” Jack leaned on his staff, his gaze fixed on the twinkling expanse above. This deep into far suburbia, nearly reaching the rural farms, the only sound beyond their voices was the hush of the falling snow. “The night Manny woke me up, I didn’t know what was going on. I just remember looking up and seeing… this. The Moon, brighter than I’d ever noticed before, and all those stars... "

Elsa waited for him to continue, but he trailed off into silence.

His smile was wistful, and for a moment, Elsa saw a side of him she didn’t expect.

Sincere. Deep in Memory. (Vulnerable?)

“It must’ve been… overwhelming."

Jack shrugged, brushing off whatever that had been—but there was no mistaking the emotion that she'd sen in his eyes.

“It was. But it was also kind of amazing. Y'know. Once I got the hang of it.”

The three centuries that no one seemed to want to speak of. Another topic they had not yet broached.

A streak of light cut across the sky—a shooting star, long and bright. Jack’s face lit up instantly.

"Guess that's our cue. You can still make a wish on it, if you like."

There was the tone she was more familiar with; gone was the wistful Jack, who disappeared in the blink of a shooting star.

"Thank you," Elsa aimed for politeness, which was often simplest in strange moments like these, when she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do or how she was supposed to act. "But I think I've rather had enough of making wishes, for now."

She worried that he might make some sort of quip about her past again—a little joke intended to poke at stories she dared not yet tell—but he nodded, suddenly certain, staring back up at the calm sky.

"Yeah, I get it. Granting them is a lot better than making them."

Elsa remained quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed on Jack as he stared upward, the starlight upon his face. His words lingered in the air between them, settling over her like the snowflakes falling gently around them. She was astounded that Jack, so often the jester (the antagonist, the prankster—the fool?), had been able to reach inside her thoughts and understand what she’d meant. It wasn’t a skill many (had) possessed, and certainly not one she’d expected from him.

She allowed herself a faint smile, watching him, this Guardian (this boy) who seemed so utterly at ease with the universe... even when it had been cold to him.

She was pleased to admit that she liked this rare side of Jack—conscientious, thoughtful, empathetic; she wished he would come out more often... but she also understood why it stayed hidden, tucked behind the boisterous grins and reckless antics.

Jack needed the laughter, the chaos, the Fun. It was his armor.

He had his armor, and she had hers.

The silence stretched, more comfortable now, and Elsa found herself doing something she rarely did: acting on impulse.

A small, mischievous idea bloomed in her mind—a way to meet him halfway, to let him know she appreciated this quieter version of him without making it too obvious. A taste of diplomacy. An offering, yes, that's what it was. A boon.

A truce.

“I had no idea you were such a... a little spaceboy,” she said softly, the word slipping from her lips like a secret. She bit her cheek to retain her smile.

As expected, Jack blinked, his head snapping toward her.

“Wha—what did you just call me?”

Jack floundered. "Um, excuse me?! Space is cool?! What does any of that have to do with—with innocence?"

“You'd likely spend half the night staring at the stars, crafting constellations, and waxing poetry about the cosmos,” she said, arching a brow. “It seems fitting.”

A stunned beat.

And then Jack’s face suddenly split into a wide grin, a laugh bubbling out of him, seemingly before he could stop it. “Oh, I see. You’re trying to be funny now.” Jack leaned on his staff, his grin impossibly wider.

"I believe I did hear a laugh, just now."

To which Jack gaped, and then barked another laugh, his eyes sparkling with something she couldn’t quite name. “Alright, Snowpea, I’ll take it. Spaceboy it is.”

Oh dear, Elsa thought, half-gratified, half-mournful. What have I done?

They stood there a little longer, Jack spinning his staff idly, Elsa clasping her hands at her waist; the two of them, just watching the stars. For the first time since she’d joined the Guardians, the silence between them wasn’t awkward or tentative—it was simply… easy.

Or... easier.

Elsa realized she didn’t just like this side of Jack; she respected it. She’d like to see it again.

But how do I lure him out?

❆ read from the beginning on ao3

[c-rowlesdraws]

I feel a bit silly asking, but with Pride Month happening, I was wondering if any of your characters (Siwa, Snowpea, Nettle, ect.) were LGBT? It's okay if not, but I figured it'd be a neat time to ask and possibly learn a bit more about them.

thank you for this ask, anon. Getting into detail would take more time and brain energy than I have right now as I lie awake and marvel vaguely at the crumbled ruin of my sleep schedule (as I’m writing this it is 4:30 AM), but rest assured: none of my characters I think about and draw the most are unequivocally straight, and most also have a conception of gender and sexuality that is different from the standard binary, or at least a queer messing-with-gender sort of presentation. Siwa is in gay alien love with a nonbinary quarian. Nettle’s people assign gender by one’s role in society, rather than the other way around, and her identity and pronouns are in flux. Sweet Pea feels very strongly about being female, but her appearance reads as masculine to most non-gnoll strangers. My axolotl people are mostly polyamorous hippies who barely give gender a passing thought. The naked mole rat-like cave-dwelling people (who I really need to draw more) are a eusocial society with two reproductive queens, with biological castes superseding gender. Et cetera! Happy Pride. 🏳️‍🌈

[technological-nexus]

Heya! i hope you’re having a great day as always!✨

i know this question is kinda silly but here it goes. when it comes to writing story lore, headcanons & theories (especially mucha lucha ones) do you have some favorite things of story lore or headcanons you’ve written? (it can be canon characters or original characters)

that’s all i have to say.

I've been working on my favorite lore for awhile, so here goes...

I've always like the history of Slamazon, but ever since I saw Maya and the Three back when it came out on Netflix, it has stuck on my mind, thinking that the backstory of Slamazon expansion pack is where I should start thinking within the lore. (Btw, great mini-series from the creator of El Tigre!)

The connection between the series and the DTV movie has been a thing for me for awhile, but this has to be my one of my favorite theories. While "The Return of El Malefico" is one of "the chosen ones", there was a prophecy mentioned, but lacks the symbolism between light and dark. (It will post it in the future)

The Code of Mask Wrestling can act like Da Rules from FOP as the key to the world.

Some of my HCs:

Princess Engima is intelligent with some of the mysterious personality. (Basically Raven from Teen Titans) Not as smart as Penny, but she loves puzzles and riddles.

El Cientifico has worked in the field related to robotics and science.

Dragonfly might have hanged out with El Loco Mosquito once way before "The Spider and The Flea".

The Flea likes sugary products like donuts, churros, etc.

Cindy Slam has attended rodeo school before season 3. She is also bisexual.

Bonus: Snowpea is autistic!

[snowpeawritings]

Reader (no pronouns but has a vagina) rides Zhongli's thighs utc bc im pissed at this banner atm

He has to know what he does to you, right?

In all his grandstanding, he couldn't be oblivious to how absolutely fucking hot he was when he kicks his spear. When he grunts in that stupid fucking deep voice of his when he climbs cliffs or when he stabs an enemy with his spear. Archons above, you wished he could spear you.

But he was a gentleman. A stupid gentleman. A gentleman that doesn't even have a monetary plan. How would you even tell him that you want to see what was flexing beneath those tight pants?

Apparently, you don't have to.

Zhongli, despite his age, isn't oblivious when he sees you stare at his thighs whenever he fights. He felt that same stare whenever he discards his coat when it became too hot, the eyes honing in on his behind that even he was flustered. He was a gentleman still, but what kind of a gentleman would leave his partner yearning?

With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he continues to write his report for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. The weather in Liyue warranted him ditching his coat and opening the window for a cool breeze to pass through. His two-piece shirt was still buttoned in its pristine form, though he left two buttons on the top unbuttoned. His collar bones and Adam's Apple just peeking through the shirt.

He wouldn't let anyone see how casual he was today. This sight is only made for you.

Yes, the sight of skin peeking against his clothes made you delirious in so many different ways. But that was your eye candy.

His eye candy is seeing you wear his coat with absolutely nothing underneath, all the while riding his clothed thigh like it would get you off.

At this point maybe it will.

He doesn't stay and watch you sully his expensive trousers with your slick even though he wanted to. He still has duties to attend to as Zhongli. Still, it wasn't like him to keep on taking your affection.

He dipped his quill on the stand, flexing his wrist for a moment, before wrapping that arm around your waist, going under the coat and bringing you closer. Focusing on his thigh, he flexed the muscles beneath your clit, making you quiver in delight. You continued to roll your hips against his thigh, the texture of his trousers against your throbbing clit made your head spin. The walls of your pussy clenching against nothing and you didn't know whether to ask for his cock to impale you or keep riding on his trousers until it became a mess.

Your hands found purchase on his shirt collar, fingers shakily unbuttoning them until you could see the skin. Parting your lips, your tongue licked across his collar bones before settling on his throat. "Zh-Zhongli..."

He let out a grunt and you moaned when you felt the vibrations on your mouth. He chuckled at your enthusiasm, his gloved hands bringing you closer, your hips nearing his pelvis. From there, you could spot a very obvious tent that was stained not by your own juices.

"Soon, my dear." He whispered, kissing the top of your head. The affectionate gesture a far cry from how his leg was lifting to meet your pussy, the muscles flexing once more that made you cry out.

"We have all the time in the world," He murmured, lifting you from his neck to nip at your lips, "enjoy this moment, my dear."

[barbwritesstuff]

Ok. I know this is like a long shot like so long it might never happen but I like asking different questions sometimes

Do you see in the future a vampire spin off to blood moon. Or another werewolf story

Oh. Totally. I will 100% write a sequel or spin off... if people buy Blood Moon.

I'm sorry if that sounds evil and capitalistic of me, but I'm a minimum wage worker and I want to be able to buy snowpeas on Fridays.

Or maybe salmon. Or the nice chocolate.

I don't expect to ever make an income from my writing, I know that's something only a very privileged few are able to achieve, but a little extra would go a long way. I'm bored of eating chicken and frozen peas.

I hope that's okay.

[nitewrighter]

Mei: Jamieson, what did I say about doing that in here?! Junkrat: Oi, this is a science lab and I'm conducting experiments. Mei: You're screwing around with explosive chemicals! Junkrat: Snowpea, the only difference between screwing around and science is someone writing down the results.

Okay so my brain went in two different directions for this:

Mei: Okay, so you’ve compiled a bibliography of papers relevant to your experiment?

Junkrat: Er--

Mei: Papers you’ve read, obviously. And these papers inform your hypothesis, right?

Junkrat: Huh--Hypoth--

Mei: The hypothesis--you know, basically the prediction you make for what should happen in the experiment---that you’ve written down---

Junkrat: *sweating*

Mei: Did you write it down, Jamison?

Junkrat: ...well... y’know... spur of the moment inspiration---

Mei: Put the cyclohexane down, Doctor Fawkes.

Junkrat: *quickly puts flask down*

Junkrat: ...

Junkrat: Iiiiii’m going to be real with you, that was pretty hot what you did just there--

Mei: Shut up.

Junkrat: Also hot.

Mei: JUNKRAT!

Junkrat: Sorry.

-----...and the alternate---

Mei: Oh... you were... writing things down.

Junkrat: Of course I write things down! You gotta inventory everything to hell in the wastes! Spreadsheets and precipitation and all that shite! That’s how you know if people have been nickin’ from your stores! 

Mei: ....huh...

Junkrat: Whaddaya mean ‘huh?’ It’s common sense!

Mei: Oh I mean--yes! Definitely common sense!

Junkrat: ...

Mei: *avoiding eye contact*

Junkrat: ...you didn’t think I could read, did you?

Mei: What? Nooooo! I never said that!

Junkrat: ...

Mei: ...I mean...

Junkrat: Wow. Classism alive and well in the scientific community.

Mei: Jamison, I see you fighting the watchpoint macaques for food scraps on a daily basis. I can’t exactly assume you’re DaVinci.

Junkrat: What about Diogenes?

Mei: I--...okay maybe you have a point there.

[polarisavi]

Hi! big, HUGE fan of your band au! could you write something from it? like, anything at all or you can totally ignore this message too. no problemo

hey anon! I’m not sure when i’ll make a full on sequel, but please have this scene that will be part of any sequel and has been clear in my head since writing somehow escape. it takes place before lucas’ european tour when they’re both in france. i’m not sure what you expected, but after all the pining of the last one I wanted to write them cozy and together, so i hope you like it. and sorry this took a few days! i wanted to finish up something else before writing it. 

eliott is taller than him, but not that much broader, so some of lucas’ shirts slide over his shoulders easily and sit inconspicuous on his frame. it takes a few minutes to even notice the shirt, honestly. lucas’ hair is still wet from the shower, stray water drops tickling his neck, muscles pleasantly buzzed from a morning run, and the familiar burgundy shirt is rendered largely irrelevant relative to eliott. eliott, awake but still in bed where lucas left him earlier, rolling out of bed with the small knowing thrill that, unlike other times, leaving eliott in bed is only temporary, that he will be able to roll right back into him when he returns, will not be separated by obligations that force the thread between them elastic. eliott, sleep soft and probably still warm, staring out the window and undoubtedly a thousand miles away. eliott, who, regardless of where his thoughts have taken him, has a guitar on his lap and is coaxing something beautiful out of it. 

eliott demaury, lead guitarist of award winning indie pop band intricate teacups, film student, raccoon enthusiast, and lover of virginia woolf, abstract art and lucas lallemant. 

it still feels like a trick, sometimes, like he’s stumbled into something fantastic and fun and finite, just waiting for someone to tap his shoulder and drag him away. sorry sir there’s been a mistake, this was never meant for you. except eliott has noticed him now, eyebrows flicked up in a question (most likely about why lucas is standing in the doorway, still and silent, instead of crawling into bed, or making them coffee) and an easy smile on his lips. the song morphs suddenly, between one chord and the next, into a familiar comfortable arrangement, one he used to listen to non stop. it’s a reminder, yes, an inside joke between them no one else is allowed to be let in on, but also a prompt for lucas to do something, to get into arms reach, to talk or move. lucas takes the invitation for what it is, and sings a few words quietly as he crosses the room. 

“well, i’ll run, babe, but i’ll come running, straight to you.“ 

it has the desired effect, and by the time lucas crawls over the bunched up sheets eliott is giggling, eyes gilded in delight, and the guitar categorised as secondary, shoved to the side and scooping lucas in his arms instead to take its place. lucas’ knees land on either side of his thighs and eliott’s hand lands, as it always does when they’re in this position, on the tattoo on his thigh, only a couple months old. mari had done it herself, in the end, rolling her eyes but acquiescing when he’d asked. it’d been a few years since she had worked as a tattoo artist professionally, officially, but her talent hadn’t faded an ounce, smiling and serious as she took a needle to his skin. bunches of tangled flowers, vivid petals and unexpected thorns and curled up leaves, peer through the spaces between eliott’s fingers. lucas’ arms loop around his neck, and he nudges their noses together, gently leans forward to place his forehead on eliott’s, his skin humming and breathing easy.

unbidden it reminds him of that death cab song imane adores about distance and yearning. her boyfriend, sofiane, of soft eyes and endless support and spectacular dance moves, who lucas has yet to meet, has spent the previous few years out of the country frequently, obligations in morocco that imane isn’t always able to join him in due to her own job. it’s hardly the exact same situation, but lucas understands why she listens to it a lot; he is always surprised, though perhaps he shouldn’t be, that they have so much in common. the lyrics, particularly applicable when they were apart, are somehow still relevant. most of the time any great space between them feels villainous; his skin, craving eliott’s, their hands tangled, ankles crossed, shoulders pressed close, anything. 

i need you so much closer. 

eliott leans back so they can see each other properly. “where did you go this morning? sleeping with the aircon only works if you’re there to keep me warm,” he adds with a teasing pout, thunderstorm eyes glinting in the light streaming through the window. 

lucas mirrors his pout but runs a hand across his head, fingers scratching lightly. in response eliott leans forward, head almost on lucas’ shoulder. “poor baby. i went for a run. and i was thinking we should go to the ocean today, if you want?" 

eliott huffs out a laugh, a flutter of warm air on his shoulder. "i want. i thought we were having lunch with mari, though?" 

"we still are. i was thinking later on, around sunset, maybe. i know a place, it’ll be chill. quiet.” 

"quiet as in not crowded?" 

"yeah. or, it usually isn’t.”

“perfect,” he says, the corner of his lips tilted up in the way that means he’s planning something, a secret tucked into his cheek.

speaking of, “what were you playing? i don’t think i’ve heard it before.”

“it’s new. i, uh, accidentally overhead an argument yesterday and got inspired,” he answers, sheepish but not ashamed, amusement twitching his lips. 

“lovers quarrel?”

“no, i think it they were friends. i’m mostly sure the argument was officially about gardening techniques but it sounded very…personal.”

lucas considers this. “broccoli as a metaphor?

they’re so close he can feel eliott’s chest bounce as he laughs, the sound vibrating right into his own body. “exactly, broccoli as a metaphor, and maybe snowpeas too.”

they just smile at each other for a small stretch of seconds, before somthing occurs to him. “have you eaten yet? had any coffee?” eliott shakes his head, so lucas kisses his cheek. "i’ll bring you something.”

“lucas, you don’t have to.”

“i know. i want to. and i’m hungry too, so it’s not entirely selfless. be right back." 

in the kitchen he makes a bee line to the fridge, already knowing exactly what he wants. sitting on the second shelf is a bowl of lychees, almost overflowing, gifted to him by arthur, who in turn had been given way more than any one person could ever need as payment for a piece of jewellery he’d given them. it had been a beautiful ring, the band composed of three braided strands textured like tree branches, and made out of recycled black metal. it was definitely worth the boxes of fruit and jars of honey and jam he had received in return, even if a lot of the produce had to be passed forward before it could rot. that night, a considerable portion of his payment was used for making various daiquiris and desserts, the close circle of friends he’d managed to maintain despite his restlessness cluttered into arthur’s kitchen, overly spoiling his dog with treats and attention, yelling over the video games and spanish music someone, probably mahdi or esra, had put on, the remnants of rum and cherry crumble and pavlova on every available surface. 

it’d happened a few nights before eliott arrived. he should try and organise something like it again, before he leaves. he can picture it vividly, suddenly, wisps of how eliott would fit into their group drifting across his mind like they’ve already happened. it makes his heart go terribly soft, thinking about how easily eliott fits into his life. how gently they’d bumped into each other, and how natural it felt falling into the possibility of them. if he was someone else, lucas might think the word fate, or destiny. as it is, he thinks about entropy and serendipity, the sea of chaos that put them in the same room, the deliberate choice of everything that came after. 

he returns to his room with a tray laden with a pot of coffee, two mugs, a bowl of lychees, and the portable speaker that he’d left in the living room. he places it on the bed but snatches the speaker and moves it to the desk in the corner. eliott doesn’t like any of the properly hard music lucas has in his library, so he opts for pantera, quiet enough for them to speak at normal volumes. if and when eliott gets sick of it, he will not be shy about telling lucas. until then, he sets his favourite album on repeat and focuses his attention where it should be. 

eliott has already dragged the tray close and broken open a lychee, juice glistening on his fingers. his house is high up and the view outside his window beautiful, early enough that the sky is partially bruised yellow and pink, the sunrise not yet flattened out. when he settles close to eliott, their knees bumping together, he is handed a mug of coffee.

"i like being in your city, with you here to show me all of its secrets. it’s nice seeing you so settled. comfortable.” ‘as opposed to in america’ is left unsaid. 

“you’ll have to do the same when i visit you in paris. tiny, overlooked secrets or bust, baby.” aka show me the places that are imbued with meaning and memories for you, too.

“i already have an itinerary,” eliott says solemnly. coming from anyone else lucas would presume it a joke, but with eliott he might be serious, a carefully crafted list of places they could enjoy together sitting innocently in his phone, or a notebook, a collection of neon post it notes. 

he pivots, shoulder perpendicular to the wall, to face him properly. “we’ll need to figure out when i can visit you. the semester starts in about a month, right? and then it’ll only be a handful of weeks before i have to go back to the states for rehearsal and then directly to dublin.”

eliott smooths a hand over lucas’ shoulder, down his arm, and it does settle him some, but not all, nervousness fluttering in his gut. “i know we do,” he says, low and faintly plaintive. “is it awful that i want to be selfish and, just, not think about that yet? it’s so much nicer only focusing on this day,” a kiss on lucas’ forehead, “this hour,” a kiss on the bridge of his nose, “this minute,” a kiss on his cheek, “here with you.”

he opens his mouth to say - something, but eliott holds a lychee to his lips and he bites into that instead, cold and lush. delicious and gives him time to think of a proper response.

“i think that we should talk about it soon, before you have to leave, but…yeah, okay, we can be selfish. i’d like that.”

he is reminded, once again, of entropy and choice. nothing is ordained, or destined, and any future days between them not promised by the universe. recognising his active participation feels almost startling, his mind wide awake. eliott steals his phone to turn off the music and pick up his guitar, hand big on the neck, crafting something jaunty and stumbling, fingers occasionally tripping over decisions. 

lucas breaks open another lychee.

[charliedoyleloves]

Hey there Cowboy,

I know the chances of this reaching you are slim. but guess what Jesse? It’s time for the annual update letter because even before Overwatch collapsed you couldn’t figure out social media.

Things have been busy now. I’ve joined up with Winston. Overwatch will always need information. As the new Arachne, I’ll always be in the position to get it. The Old Lady’s retired, and is actually living back home and helping my family with the farm. Never thought I’d see the day she traded well-pressed suits for horses, but I suppose odder things have happened.

I wish you went up north instead of down south. Instead of living in whatever hole you could find. My family and I would have helped out. And I am still sorry that I couldn’t get you out of jail time. Just more of the politicians and justice system not getting the idea that people can change.

I hope this is the year that you write back. It’s been years, but thinking about you being gone still hurts like that first morning. You son of a bitch, I haven’t gotten rid of that belt or the hat. Or the ring, honestly.

Jesse, it’s been five years. I know you're alive, and I don’t care if you’ve moved on. Can you at least give me some closure? Ideally, you’d give me a reply in person. I found us a good base out in the middle of nowhere where the UN can’t get to the new Overwatch. But at this point, I would take even just a fucking carrier pigeon with a short message.

Hope to hear from you soon. Our doors are always open, and the world needs a good cowboy. Or that might just be me.

Your Snowpea,

Charlie

[faunusrights]

GREAT WEISS SHARK AU - MASTERPOST

Blood always returns no matter how much you might try to hide it away. Weiss will always be a reminder that the Schnee family was never perfect, and never will be.

I’m losing track of all the content for this AU, so here’s a place to collect it all!

FICS (full length):

enclosure

encounter

equivocal (explicit content)

enragement

endurance

excursion (coming soon)

emergent (coming soon)

[untitled gewässer fic] (coming soon)

a thousand fathoms deep

FICS (short length):

Teething Problems

It’s Probably Mostly Polyester Anyway

What The Hell Is A Gender, And How Do I Eat It?

Discord shorts (GWS/canonverse AU)

Adrenaline Junkie

How To Gracefully Lose A Leg

Unequivocal

We’ll Burn This Bridge Once We’re Standing On It

Exit Stage Left, Pursued By Mild Mortification

Speaking of Violence

The Battle of Tunafish

Not To Ruin the Moment

One-Word Prompts, Weiss+Ashes

One-Word Prompts, Weiss+Delinquent

One-Word Prompts, Weiss+Tuna

ART:

great weiss shark reference post

enclosure

doodles of weiss’s face

a terrible meme

snowpea

bad company

after sparring

a terrible meme part II

it’s probably mostly polyester anyway (or: shark onesie)

happy shark pup

the truth come out: does shark pup is purr?

cover art for enclosure, encounter and equivocal

weiss’s emblem (and motto)

THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF FOREVER

when administering kisses...

not dead yet

satsuki schnee

halloween avatar (or: teefies)

two halves of the same weiss

motif

rwbabies

smug shark (screencap redraw)

christmas avatar

glowy eyes

many shorks

BIG TEEF BIG TROUBLE

MORE TEEF MORE TROUBLE

cozy shark

WALT DISNEY WOULD WANT TO HEAR ME OUT

lost

many sharks (and not sharks)

why not both?

blue to red

glowy eyes, ii

motif, redux

really tall shark

drooly puppy

happy puppy

enclosure, redux

enclosure, 2017 vs 2019

ANCHOR ARMS

winter shork

shork siblings

gift for subw00f3r

modern!tribelands!gws!weiss!au

someone here is possessed... by an owl

freezerburn shork rwbaby

tfw you watch jaune arc eat shit in front of the class

tfw you watch jaune arc eat shit in front of the class (redraw comparison)

gewässer blueprints

beacon uniform redesign

FAN ART:

rabbitmage

directcomedian

nighshadeiceheart

nighshadeiceheart

directcomedian

directcomedian

ra-duck

sam-screams

wary-taru

imamwolf

kambiteydragon

blessedsage99

alpacamaca

xtrhowlsterxtr

FAN WRITING:

redvelvetladybug (Alternative Survival Methods)

sasam (A Shark and a Rose)

themanlymanman (I Know that Love Exists [It’s Asleep With The Fishes Down In Atlantis])

sasam (Basking In The Sun)

faunusden (Pool Shark)

great-weiss-shark (Surfer AU, Part 1)

DERIVED FIC:

keromenson (A Shark Dressed In White)

Drengade (To Find Untroubled Waters)

(If you’ve made art or writing for this AU, tag me in it and I’ll add it to this post!)

MISC. STUFF:

Great Weiss Shark tag Great Weiss Shark merch Gewässer (WIP) Can you believe someone got a GWS AU tattoo? Me neither. A Discord Essay on Faunus Weiss GWS Headcanons

TESTIMONIALS:

‘This AU is like a gift from god. Please continue what you are doing. this literally made my birthday when I fucking found this a few days ago.’ - catnip-regicide

‘hey i'm not even in the fucking rwby fandom but i'm here as Fuck for your great weiss shark au thanks for existing i love your work’ - anon

‘hi i'd just like to say that your great weiss shark au is what got me into shipping monochrome. it's so good.’ - anon

NOTES:

Blake is amab agender (they/them) and Weiss is the sensation of something in the water touching your foot (she/they). This AU is primarily monochrome, though some shorter fics (like It’s Probably Mostly Polyester Anyway) may feature other ships i.e. freezerburn, as well as feature more platonic frappuccino, honey frappuccino, and white rose.

There are warnings for explicit violence, but also mentions of historical (and recent) mutilation of Faunus, abuse in several forms, blood, injury and occasional explicit sexual content. All fics on AO3 have specific warnings in the tags/author’s notes at the beginning of the fic.

If you like my content, feel free to toss me a Ko-fi or become a Patron!

[shattered-gothic-doll]

There is a joy I feel when I bake, and an even bigger fulfillment given when others like what I bake. I have always loved making cakes and pies and the like. It's a joy for me.... I think that is why I have started trying out cooking. I want to feel that way more... and a major part of my posting recipes or sharing them from other blogs is that I want to cook for my Daddy and have him enjoy something homemade from his doll.

I will probably never be as good as my Mother, she's an amazing cook, but I can follow a recipe and perhaps someday she will let me write down hers. There will never be any measurements... momma doesn't cook like that, but I know how to taste test to see if it's close to her.

I don't love cooking like I love baking, but I do feel that same sense of a job well done and pride knowing I made it. Perhaps my fellow subs who are not cooks like me, will feel inspired to attempt it. I know I was proud of my results the first time I cooked for my family, and I will feel it again the first time I get to cook for Daddy. If at first you don't succeed try again they say... and they are right. I have come a long way from the girl squeamish to even touch raw meat. Now I am cooking dinners like peach ginger chicken and beef with snowpea from scratch. So don't give up ladies, keep trying... I am sure your Daddies will support you too in your efforts!

Picture is of my highly praised Jack Daniel's Tipsy Cake.

[kohimiruku]

I swear I’m doing something lmao

(i just came home late and i dont think this might be finished til the weekend)

[taohtd]

ten for ten for ten: answer ten questions, write ten questions, tag ten people

i was tagged by @nbronan

1. what was the last piece of media that made you cry?

ari and dante babey 🥺 it ALWAYS gets me i just cry the whole way through like a little baby

2. stance on peas.

definitely not a top tier vegetable but they are a very solid side and i respect that. also i don’t know what they’re called but i love eating the ones where you eat the whole pod.... snowpeas maybe? anyway those are excellent

3. how do you think soulmates exist?

i don’t believe in the whole “two halves of a whole” concept but i’m a very passionate supporter of having many different soulmates in many different contexts. like people that you meet that you just understand and click with immediately — when you feel on the same wavelength you know. i just love some good human connection

4. when you look at art, do you try to find the meaning the artist intended, do you enjoy it on its own, or do you create your own meaning?

i wanna say i look for the artist’s meaning, but if i look for that with my only basis being my own experiences, i think it’s still pretty subjective and introspective in a sense. i’m not sure if that made sense. mostly i’m just like ärt prëttÿ 😳

5. what's your favorite song to sing in the shower? if you don't sing in the shower, what's your favorite song to dance to?

i mostly just bop in the car and the song i sang along the loudest to today was probably anna sun by walk the moon

6. do you document your life through photos, a diary, a blog, or something else? why or why not?

ABSOLUTELY baby. i take videos everyday to make 1 second a day videos, and i journal my thoughts, and i make lil wrapups in there at the end of every month, and i plaster my walls with polaroids, and— 😔 i really am a nostalgic whore that’s all there is

7. do you wear sweaters in hot weather?

no but only because i am already genetically predisposed to sweat my ass off anytime it’s over 25C, so i would die

8. what is one piece of media that changed your life/that you feel strongly about and that you would recommend to others?

not to be predictable, but skam. god i love skam. i’ve recommended it to my friends irl so many times but none of them have bothered watching it 😭

9. what is your favorite outfit like?

ok my current fave fit is a black t-shirt that says “cheese is for lovers” with a little gouda wheel, some cute dickies jeans with way too many pockets and my black converse. perhaps a light red jacket if it’s chilly. i also love wearing tiny little gold hoops

oh and everything is thrifted of course

10. what is your favorite thing that someone's said to you?

i wish i had a particular moment that came to mind, but i love when people tell me i give good hugs 🥺

ok also i’m gonna be a real bummer and break the chain 😔 i know that if i made myself come up with questions i would never end up posting this so i’m taking the L thank u. goodnight

[snowpeawritings]

As Long-Standing As The Earth

Every day, Zhongli stares down at a little cube. The cor lapis-colored thing humming with Geo energy as the little dial that shows on one side slowly ticks.

When the dial reaches its peak, Zhongli feels like the earth is alive again.

Reader is gender neutral

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Reincarnation AU, Modern AU, Zhongli character story spoilers, blood warning

❄ Snowpea’s words: LET’S GO ZHONGLI BANNER DROPPING TOMORROW I WROTE 2K WORDS LIKE I PROMISED--

The first time he held the little cube, you were dying in his arms.

It shouldn't shake him, he thinks. He is the god of war, death became a norm when mortals and archons alike are associated with him. He is the long-standing pillar that brought his army to victory. Just like the earth that continues to stand, just like his energy that reshaped the land, he will not bow to whatever danger his immortal lifetime will experience.

It shouldn't shake him. It shouldn't shake his hands when he holds your lifeless corpse, your blood running down his skin like water weathering down stone. It shouldn't.

Yet it does. Each stream of blood crumbled his visage, eyes pleading at your dead ones to see if you will laugh at how ridiculous he looks. He would take any sort of jest from you just to see you that you were even capable of making jokes while bleeding out.

You never did.

And just like sand, he crumpled down onto the earth, hoping that he would be swallowed in when the gods took you away from him.

The second time he held the cube, it was when he used it for the first time.

He remembers it fondly; you were pledged to him beyond Teyvat's mortal realms, as a god and a mortal who were sworn to each other. You joked about it, saying you two were practically married to each other and wondered if he hated the fact that he had been tied down to a mortal.

Before, he would've laughed at the thought and said that you were silly.

He wished he could've done more than just laugh at your insecurities.

The Guili Plains were slowly coming to life as he spent his energy on making his abode. You mentioned to him before that you would've loved to sit back and eat your favorite cuisine underneath a red tree, surrounded by water as the sound of nature encompasses your dining wonderfully. He had hoped that the tree in the center was big enough for you to see.

As if realizing his fondness, a little cube-no bigger than his palm-glowed from his pocket. It hummed with elemental energy as he gasped at the dial pointing at its peak.

Terraforming would have to wait.

Ever since the Archon War, he began to loathe being an archon.

He sees old friends come and go or worse, die during the war. It wouldn't be a surprise that he was used to death.

No… that's not how he would describe it.

He was used to loneliness…?

Close.

Ah, he grew tired of being lonely. He supposes that was an agreeable feeling to describe him. The price of him wanting to end his loneliness was a price his heart couldn't bear. He was a smart god, cleverly providing strategies in order to gain the upper hand in the war. 

Clearly, he wasn't smart enough to know the long-term consequences of his need.

The gods had warned him and he stood his ground as resolute as the mountains of Liyue.

The bustling village greeted his sight. Newcomers of Liyue and old villagers walked around, giving space for him to walk. Whether it was fear or admiration towards the archon, he couldn't care less. He set sight on a rather large house, its windows and doors opened for the public as wounded laid down on cots. Victims of people attempting to colonize Liyue, Treasure Hunters, or the sad case of Hilichurls, he couldn't care less.

He spots the aura of yellow energy before he could properly see the person. They were wearing a nurse's outfit, caked with blood and unknown grime from treating patients. Yet he never saw a more beautiful sight.

He approaches you and he feels the cube in his hand vibrate in tune with your aura. Making a deal with the devils be damned, he can never throw this opportunity away because he was an immortal.

"Oh, hello sir!" You greeted him and he felt the earth tremble slightly from your voice. "What can I help you with?"

He smiled at you, placing his palm in front of his chest pocket where the cube hummed. "My name is Zhongli. I heard that you are an excellent doctor?"

The third time he held the cube, he nearly threw it away along with his past.

He was no longer Morax, or Rex Lapis. He was just Zhongli, the head of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

It was ironic, to be connected to a place of death and moving on when he tries to do the same thing. Not once did the thought of moving on never crossed his mind. Not once did the thought of giving up his life never crossed his mind because he was so tired.

His past seemed just as resolute as the earth, he thinks bitterly.

The cube that he wanted so badly to discard still kept reappearing in his sight. Whether throwing it outside the window or burning it in the fireplace or even chucking it at the Chasm. It doesn't matter, it keeps reappearing like it was gloating at him. Like it was sneering at him as it reminds him about this perpetual curse that follows him until his dying breath.

But that doesn't matter at the moment. He has a job to do as the head for doing the rite of passing. He follows the Traveler to the floral boutique, wanting to buy the best Silk Flowers for Rex Lapis's passing.

How fitting.

Before he could try to get a word out for the history of Silk Flowers, his words got trapped in his throat. He sees the same yellow aura that he associated with the color of Geo. No matter how much time has passed, he knows those vibrant colors anywhere. The cube inside his coat hummed annoyingly like it was trying for him to do something. You were blissfully unaware of his longing stare, busy trying to barter against a merchant for the cheapest price of cor lapis.

Oh, how much he wanted to march right next to you and barter with the merchant himself, say that the cor lapis he sold couldn’t hold a candle to the aura that you emitted, that he was willing to put the price of the cor lapis on his tab because you were worth it--

"Mr. Zhongli?" The Traveler's travelling companion asks. "Are you okay?"

He ignores them, chest tightening at the thought of seeing his love for the third time. "I… lost my thought. I apologize."

Stand as resolute as the earth, Zhongli scolds himself. You can't stay like this forever.

... Forever is nothing compared to an archon, though.

After having dinner with the Traveler with a smooth rite of passing, he would've loved to take Barbatos's advice and drink until he can't think.

The fourth time he held the cube, it was when he felt his powers slipping away.

The times have changed, he fears, for the Statues of the Seven slowly dwindled out until they were almost ruined. The age of metal and alchemy conquered Teyvat instead of the elemental energy and Visions that people possessed. He couldn't heal using the broken down Statues but at least he could share one last drink with Barbatos before the inevitable.

"You should see them build the first plane!" He said excitedly as he downed his umpteenth drink. "Looks like they don't need the winds from their archon anymore!"

Somehow, he wishes he could share Barbatos's anguished laughter as he drank himself into forgetfulness.

The age of innovation grew higher and higher towards its peak while Zhongli's powers grew lower and lower. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't mind it.

Anything to get rid of the blasted cube.

He gave up trying to get rid of it. Gave up on trying to find his love when the dial hits its peak. If giving away his gnosis meant that the cube would no longer work, he would. Even more so with the depletion of everyone's belief at Archons.

He hopes.

Alas, it appears Celestia would laugh at Zhongli's hopes, for when the cube glowed for another time, he nearly tore his hair out.

How many lifetimes? How many more heartbreaks? How many more funeral rites?

And yet he seemed to be the biggest fool despite being the eldest Archon, for when he sees you, an inventor innovating the new gadgets for tomorrow, he felt the earth beneath his feet tremble.

He missed this feeling.

"Hello sir!" You greeted him with enthusiasm that he wished he could relate to. "Care to see the future of mankind?"

He is the biggest fool there was. "I would love to."

And he may as well die as a fool.

The fifth time he held the cube, he was only fidgeting it around.

Funeral parlors were becoming commonplace but not a lot of customers. With globalization and the new funeral trends being used, people have mixed feelings about having such an expensive and extravagant rite of passing.

And it also doesn't help that he gets confused when some people don't even bother asking for his services. They just stare at him with a wiggly smile on their lips.

Regardless, he won't look a gift horse in the mouth. He sees the dial on its peak but he doesn't pay heed to it. He gave up. With how many people there are and newer countries emerging, he lost hope.

No, more like he doesn't care anymore.

It was probably an insult to you-no-it was a clear insult and it was scary that he doesn't care anymore. He can't be the man that existed before, assisting the Traveler and Childe. He can't be the broken down Archon that shared drinks with Barbatos. He was so goddamn tired that he deserves this sanctuary.

If he could even call it that.

And yet, he persisted. Not for Guizhong, not for you, but for himself.

He takes his time with his tea, relishing in the flavors as he used this time to calm himself. The sounds of the clock ticking, the ceramic of his cup hitting the table, and the distant sound of birds chirping were all welcomed to his ears. It appears that his daily tea rituals haven't changed at all ever since he was born.

As he sips up the last bit of his tea, a knock broke him out of his concentration. He allowed entry.

An employee under him bowed before straightening his back. "Mr. Zhongli, you have a customer."

He sets down the cup. "Bring them in."

The employee nodded at him before walking back to fetch the customer. He fixes his tie and moves his finished tea away, wanting to look best for the customer.

Hearing an extra set of footsteps, he raised his head to greet the customer but he felt the earth tremble.

Maybe Celestia had enough of his sulking as he sees you smile at him like the first of you smiled at the archon all those millenia ago.

"Hello, Mr. Zhongli," you greeted and his name never sounded so poisonously sweet in his ears, "I hope you aren't too busy with what I have to ask…"

He may as well start his own funeral rites for himself.

He takes a while before composing himself, not meeting your eyes as he gestured to the vacant seat on his left side. He can’t meet your eyes even when you sat down and smiled politely at him. It felt like his heart stopped, then jump started like an engine.

“So, um…” You said, fiddling with the tips of your fingers and Zhongli had to resist the urge to take your hands in his. “Mr. Zhongli, I was hoping that I could ask you something.”

He steeled his spine in order to not show the shiver he felt when he heard you say his name. Gods, when has it been that your past reincarnation said his name? Even in a non-romantic way? “Well, as long as it is within the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s power, I’ll do what I can.”

This time, you averted your eyes from him, your hand moving to scratch the back of your neck. “About that… it’s not really something related to the funeral parlor perse…”

He raised his brow, your nervousness almost easing him. “Oh?”

Your face flushed and Zhongli can’t help but feel his heart race just like before. “It’s ah… It’s just that I have a research thesis that I’m doing and for some reason, the people I’ve asked recommended you.”

He slightly deflated, then wondered why he felt disappointment in the first place. “A research thesis? Pertaining about...?”

You immediately perked up and you reached out from behind you. Your bag was sitting behind you, smooshed against the chair as Zhongli watched you curiously. From your backpack, you fished out a laptop, a heavy history book, a slim book, two notebooks, and a pencil case that’s practically bursting at the seams with stationery. You set them down on the table, the force clattering the plates but nothing was spilled.

You booted up your laptop, getting one of your notebooks and grabbing a pen. When the laptop finally booted up, you logged in and presented Zhongli what was on the screen.

He felt the earth tremble from his knee knocking up against the table.

‘History of Rex Lapis And Their Influence On The Modern World’

“I’m a huge fan of history, you see!” You explained quickly, grabbing the large book that shows an old copy of Rex Lapis Incognito, a book that he hasn’t seen a while. “I really appreciate everything that the old archons did for the world, even if people don’t believe in them anymore. I especially have a fondness for the adepti but they’re even more forgettable-but I don’t mean it in a bad way! I want to write this with intentions of people remembering what both archons and adepti did for Teyvat…”

He zoned out soon after you said ‘history’. He wasn’t the type to pray for a blessing when, after all, you’re a literal god. But it comes to a time where, after heartbreak after heartbreak, he grows tired and soon goes numb. He thought he hardened his heart ever since he subjected himself to this but it appears even bedrock can be reduced to dust.

He let out a small, shaky breath before raising his head. That doesn’t matter now. He was Zhongli, used to be adeptus, used to be archon, but now: a man.

He couldn’t be any happier.

“I admire your fondness for researching ancient history.” He said, cutting off your rambling. “I may not be as knowledgeable as any other book, but I will try my best. We should speak about this somewhere else, though. It would be dreadful to speak in a funeral parlor.”

Just like terraforming, he can be rebuilt.

[skinflakez-blog]

The Daily Report 6/25/17

I appreciate watching movies and shows cuz no matter what I watch it stimulates me to think deeply about things, be self-reflective, and takes my imagination places and I don’t feel quite as trapped as I otherwise would. Last night I watched a stupid movie called The Host, but it got me thinking about what it could look like to not assimilate into this colonized society. I started writing about it and then fell asleep into some interesting and intense dreams. 

I woke up this morning feeling pretty physically weak. Made some tulsi tea, and made a nourishing breakfast involving leek, mushrooms, snowpeas, kale, rice, tofu, ginger, and some curry paste. I’ve not been eating well or at all lately, so this meal was a very welcome divergence, and hopefully the norm to come.

Right now I’m struggling with feelings of exclusion and abandonment. If I’m being excluded because I’m doing something wrong, nobody is telling me. It feels so awful being so near to “friends” yet days go by and we don’t see each other. And in most cases I don’t hear from them at all, not even virtually. I understand that’s a societal norm where I live, but I don’t like it. It’s so much the norm that I’m actually embarrassed to admit that I so strongly want something different. I refuse however to accept this norm as the ultimate reality of my life. I don’t want to live that kind of isolation. 

Since the point of this whole project is to come up with real solutions, I’m going to be as specific as I can when detailing an experience I’m having that needs to change. I’ve been at my new place for a week now, but mostly nobody has come by. One friend came for like 3 minutes, another came for an hour or so, another came and hungout for maybe an hour and a half, and someone lovely I barely know dropped off a lil food and clothes for me. That’s out of some 20+ “friends” still in new orleans rn. This is normal. We come and go from each other’s lives so easily. Or maybe it’s just the going that’s the easy part.

I’ve been in town since the 8th, that’s 18 days. In that time I’ve had some sliver of intentional time with 10 of the 21+ friends. I’ve had some amount of one-on-one time with 4-5 friends in that time. I’ve had substantial quality time with say, 4 friends. I’ve seen 4 friends more than once. That’s less than 20%. 5 friends have reached out to me to hangout. I followed through with 4 of the 5. (And just now the fifth.) I have reached out to 15 of 21 friends to hangout. Only 5 of the 15 I reached out to have made and kept a date with me. 33% success rate. 67% failure rate (some flaking out and some not responding). 4 of the 6 I didn’t reach out to reached out to me. So that’s really only two people you could say I ignored, and really that’s not true either cuz one of them I ran into and the other one never responded to previous messages from me. (The persyn I ran into I’ve since made plans with.) I don’t know bout you, but this all is very fascinating!

Unfortunately I’m too tired to do the work to find out how many hours I’ve been among friends. Maybe I’ll have the energy later cuz I sure am curious what the percentage would be.

In the meantime, I’ll drown myself in How To Get Away With Murder...

p.s. I feel like an 18 day sample is quite significant and what I’ve experienced in this short time is exactly what I was experiencing consistently in the year and a half before I left new orleans. And as some know, it is the main reason why I left. 

[snowpeawritings]

Snezhnaya’s Finest

The pride of Snezhnaya is what most would call Childe. To you, and even his sister, he was just Tartaglia.

Childe X Gender neutral!Reader

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Suggestive themes, swearing, spoilers for Genshin Impact

❄ Snowpea’s words: I was serious about writing fanfiction as catalyst for Childe to come home HANKSDFSF

IT WORKED FOR MY CYL4 BANNER PULLS AFTER I WROTE THE BDAY PIECE FOR CLAUDE IM SURE AS HELL ITS GONNA WORK HERE TOO

Childe doesn’t listen to other people.

Let me rephrase; he doesn’t pay heed to the opinions of others.

He’s a man with a goal and he’s as determined to complete it as he is just as bullheaded. The rumors towards the Fatui be damned, he has plans for himself and anyone who’s close to him.

Tartaglia “Childe” is the definition of determined.

Although, he is still a human. A human who is just as susceptible to vices and sin. He’s no stranger to that, of course. He tries to cool off when his time at the Fatui was too much. Appearance is everything after all-he’d rather not lose his dignity in public because of his emotions tipping.

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it.” You sneered, poking Childe’s chest. “You’d save your dignity but you’d love to put mine out of non-existence.”

His guffaw could practically be heard across the house and you were glad you had no neighbors for them to hear him and you during some points of the day.

Well, as you heard, Tartaglia doesn’t really care for anyone unless they’re close to him. Of course he would love to preserve some humility for himself, he just finds it cute on how you were trying to preserve yours when he teases you relentlessly.

“You better omit that when you send it!”

“Of course, honey.”

His time at Liyue became interesting ever since meeting Zhongli and practically became his walking bank. Of course, it’s not only Zhongli. The entire culture of Liyue is completely new to him and he’s been enjoying his time. The food, the clothing, the numerous festivals that it showcases-oh Celestia, he remembers the lantern festival that he went with you. He still remembers the beautiful Liyue traditional garb that you wore specifically for the festival. If he could close his eyes, he could practically remember how he held you in his arms as you watched the lanterns lighting up the sky, while he was staring at you with complete adoration.

“Aw...” You cooed, placing your head on his shoulder. “That’s actually so sweet of you!”

He shrugged his shoulder to remove your head. “Don’t get it over your head, I have to write something good about you to her or else she’ll come here personally.”

“Oh, make sure you put the part where you had problems using chopsticks!”

“Oh, aren’t you just pushing it, aren’t you?”

While it seemed like he was goofing off during his mission, he guarantees that all of his actions will lead to his goal for Snezhnaya. All of this for the future of Tsaritsa. All of this for the future that he can share with Tonia and you.

“... I hope this letter finds you well, sister. Once my mission in Liyue is done, I’ll make sure to update you as soon as possible.”

You nodded against his form, listening to his voice as he wrote his letter down. Your eyes slowly drooped down just from hearing his voice as you relaxed against his body. Before you could even fall asleep, he shrugged his back which made you jump.

He chuckled from your tired glare. “The letter is done. Do you want to read it?”

You shook your head, content with the letter when you heard it straight from Childe’s lips. “You better make sure it’s safe for work.”

He let out a small laugh before kissing your head. “Of course, honey. Of course.”

For now, Tartaglia thought as he stared down at your tired form. This present seems just as perfect as the future he envisioned.

[snowpeawritings]

You’re Safe

Claude/Khalid von Riegan x Reader

IT WAS HIS BDAY YESTERDAY AND I MADE THIS PIECE BC I LOVE MY HUSBAND!!! HAPPY BDAY TO THE DEER MAN

Reader is gender neutral

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Sexual content, PTSD cw, Verdant Wind spoilers

Claude-or Khalid for that matter-keeps many things to himself.

Despite the years you two have lived together; seeing another war happen, slaying your friends, your professor housing a god inside of their body, and marrying your house leader.

Oh gods, marrying your house leader.

You could never imagine living a married life with the Duke of Riegan. You still remember the time you and Claude pranked Seteth rearranging his entire office or the time you spiked Lorenz's special tea blends with stomach poisons. That's what it just is-you thought-prank partners that just wanted to have fun in the stuffy halls of Garreg Mach. A close ally when the burdens of war were too much. A friend when he had slain an old classmate.

A spouse to the King of Unification.

You were sure that the times you two spent together had solidified your bond with the mysterious man. Even when you two are happily married, there were some secrets that he'd still kept from you. Such as his true name. It honestly surprised you that Nader was the one who, albeit drunkenly, stated that Khalid von Riegan was his real name. Not even the newly-appointed Archbishop would tell you, or rather that they don't have much to tell you.

Heartbreaking talk aside, you accepted that Khalid would let his secrets out when he wanted it.

Right now, you have your husband with you as he finally announced to you that he was going to bed.

Him being the new Duke would lead him to travel across different places where inequality of different races are still apparent. His hard work had taken too much of a toll on his sleep schedule. With bags under his eyes and a stiffness on his shoulders, you tried to coerce your husband to rest.

You tried to ask Judith and she had prepared a basket full of exotic bath salts, flower petals, and oils that seemed to be worth more than your life. With your husband now with you, your night can finally go how you wanted it to go.

If only he didn’t take up half the space of the tub.

You nudged the knees jutting out of the water with your foot. “Give some space, hun, I want to get in the tub with you.”

He pouted his lips at you, looking at you using those puppy eyes that he would always use when he was in trouble. “But aziz-am, I thought this was my night?”

You remembered the pet name he said as you huffed. Taking a bottle full of scented oil, you poured a few drops in the water. It mixed with the bath salts and the flower petals that you added. The yellow petals were highlighted against the shimmering water as the heat from the candles were giving a warm feeling across your body. Along with the pecs that were floating above the water, the water sure looks inviting right now.

Kneeling down next to the tub, you leaned towards Khalid as you kissed his cheek. “You don’t want your spouse next to you in the tub?”

You continued to repeatedly kiss his cheek before leaning down to plant kisses to his neck. “You don’t want to see your lovely spouse naked in the bath with you?”

Khalid groaned slightly from above you as his fists tightened at the sides of the tub. Before you knew it, he dragged you inside the tub, not even minding the water splashing over the tub as you gasped at your clothes becoming wet.

“Why, you shouldn’t have darling!” He said above your panicked splashing. “You know me so well!”

You stuck your tongue at him, flicking a flower petal towards his face before stripping yourself of your wet clothes. It was a hassle due to it clinging to your skin but Khalid's appreciative hum made it all worth it.

With you completely naked, you leaned against the opposite end of the tub and glanced at Khalid's expectant stare. You raise one brow before gesturing to the empty space in front of you.

Like a child, he immediately went over to your side, water splashing about as he nestled himself on your chest. "Now this is the night that I deserve."

You flicked some water at him before massaging his temples. The oils made your hands smoother so it was easier to glide over his skin. He gave a relaxed groan, inching further to your body. Once his eyes closed, you drifted down from his head to his neck and shoulders where you knew most of his knots were at.

Feeling the tension, you worked them away as Khalid moaned at the sensation. "Gods, have I mentioned how much I love you?"

Your heart fluttered at his words before planting a kiss on his temple. "Every time you try to weasel yourself out of my wrath."

What came out of his mouth was either a laugh or a groan as his hand pinched the inside of your thigh. "Ease up on the insults or else I might just start tearing up on my special night."

You scoffed, wrapping your arms around Khalid's waist. "Oh hush, you big baby."

"Correction," he said before his hands covered your own, "I'm your fawn."

You giggled at his deer-related joke of the week before leaning against the tub once more. He gently exited from your hold before leaning above you, trapping you against the side as you stared up at viridian eyes that were full of hunger.

"I thought I was treating you?" You asked, already feeling the arousal welling up within you.

"You are treating me." He replied before planting a soft kiss on your lips. Almost uncharacteristic of him before leaving a nibble on your bottom lip. "You're my feast for this evening."

A shot of arousal spiked through your abdomen. Before you could say another word, he kissed you fully, making sure you feel his tongue move against yours as he moved around so that you were sitting on his lap. You felt the hard press of his cock against your inner thigh as you moaned.

Thus the night continued on.

---

With your body still oh-so pleasantly thrummed with euphoria, you laid back against the soft sheets of the bed as you looked at Khalid. Well, the back of Khalid, but the fact that he was soundly asleep next to you brought your mind peace.

Your eyes honed in on the healed scars that littered across his back. Some were already healed and were left as pale lines in contrast to his skin. Others still ran deep (you tried to ignore the most recent ones courtesy of your nails), almost deadly when you realize that he could've died hadn't Marianne or the Professor got to him in time.

Some scars, you realized, that you weren't there to see.

You recounted the times that Khalid had scarcely stated his past. Most of the time, it was said in jest. Others, it was either in mysterious phrases that only Khalid seemed to know. You knew that he had a tough time as a child due to him being a half-Almyran, even more so as an adult. His dream of unifying the rest of the countries was a steep one but one that Khalid was determined to conquer. Even though he had left you after his proposal at the Goddess Tower, you had continued to support his dream where you are. Any help that you do to support his dream is enough for you.

Remembering those moments, you sighed happily into your pillow, happy that you were able to help his dream. You inched closer to his back, wanting to feel his warmth as you’ll sleep with your husband. You lifted an arm to wrap around his waist for you to feel his body.

The jolt that followed had you fully awake. Khalid was fully sitting up, body trembling as his hand searched for something underneath his pillow. Your arm shot out to try and calm him down but he didn’t seem to register that you were touching him.

You looked at his face, trying to ask him what was wrong until you saw his eyes. His verdant eyes that you’ve loved so much were shrunken and shaky. Looking at his arm, which was still busy trying to find whatever was under his pillow, you held his shoulders as you sat up. “Khalid?”

He didn’t hear you. He continued to shakily reach out for whatever he was searching under his pillow. You felt sweat running down his face and neck as your heart palpitated. With no other option, you struggled to sit on his lap as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

With your forehead pressed against his, you yelled his name. When he flinched, you yelled his name once more, shaking him off of his episode as tears welled in your eyes.

Is this what Khalid had to go through for so long?

How long had he had to protect himself even from sleeping?

The tears flowed freely now, crying his name when his shaking stopped. His eyes slowly became focused now as they stared back at your own. His hand was still under his pillow but his other hand was suspended in the air.

Your hand moved to smooth his cheek. “Khalid… You’re safe.”

His breathing was still uneven but he seemed to respond to you now as both of his arms wrapped around your body. He didn’t say anything.

You pushed back his matted hair and kissed his forehead. “You’re safe, Khalid.”

One last breath out of Khalid before he relaxed into your hold. He held that small moment of peace before he leaned back with you, his back hitting the bed. He held his arms tighter around you, finally relaxed from his trauma but not wanting to let go of you quite yet.

Your husband is safe with you.

“You’re safe with me, Khalid. Now rest.”