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dokoni-mo · 4 years

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Fireworks || Darth Vader x Reader

(A/N ***please read if you havent read the epilouge to my series*** : yes hi I wanted this to go out earlier but oopsie ig lmao, but I was inspired by the fireworks of last night so yuhhh :))) This is based off my vader x reader series, but not canon to the story!! (or maybe it is, i’ll let you be the judge of that). for those of you who havent read the epilogue of my series Far Away, Together, all you need to know is that vader and his bby yeeted out the empire and now are living in the middle of nowhere together :)) taglists are open, enjoy!!)

(P.S.: if you wanna read the epilogue, you can find it here, as well as all the other chapters of FaT)

WARNINGS: None!! Very fluffy

Key: (F/N) = first name

Word Count: ~3200

~~~

You both always hated it when you had to go to the wreckage, but you both knew that you had to.

After fixing your love a nice lunch and leaving him to eat in his meditation chamber, you begrudgingly pulled on your going-out clothes, a slight frown on your face all the while. Pulling on your walking boots and securing your tools to your belt, you heard your love’s meditation chamber open and close, alongside his heavy footsteps drawing closer and closer to you. Your hearing perking up, you noticed how he stopped in the doorway without having to turn your head.

You smiled to yourself. You could feel his gaze on you, warming your heart.

“When do you plan to return, darling?” Vader asked you, his voice as deep and rumbling as ever. If this had been some years ago, you would have been scared. But now, all you felt was warmth.

Maker, you were so in love.

“I’ll be back before sundown, Vee.” you responded without turning to him, combing out your hair with your fingers.

You could practically feel how much he didn’t like that. It made the air thick yet almost uncomfortably sharp at the same time. Your smile faded a little at this. You hated leaving for so long just as much as he did, but you had to go. His bacta tank had been acting funky recently, and you had finally narrowed the problem down to the filter.

And, of course, you were all out of filters.

This meant you had to go to the wreckage of the crashed Star Destroyer to find a new one, or at least the parts you needed to make one.

Your favorite activity.

Your smile now completely faded away, you reached inside one of your dresser drawers, retrieving out a long, black cloth from it. The ends of the cloth were heavily tattered and torn, and there were even large holes in some areas.

His old cape.

Since he hardly wore it anymore, you took it over as your own. He had long since abandoned the black one for a medium-toned blue one you had made him not too long ago. He told you that he wore that one because you had made it, but you knew the real reason.

After the Empire fell, he wanted to shed as much of the past as possible, and did this little by little. It started with his cape, but has slowly branched out to other means.

For example, his saber.

“Take my weapon with you, dear. Use it to protect yourself while I am not present.” you heard him say as you fastened his old cape around your shoulder such that the cloth ran diagonally across your body, scraping only slightly on the floor. Turning to face him, you smiled up at his mask, the sound of his steady breath filling your ears.

He always worried about you. Ever since you had professed your love for one another, he seemed to never stop worrying. You would ordinarily tease him for things like this, but you knew better in this situation. You knew he had lost so many in his life…

And you knew losing you would destroy him, once and for all.

So, it was clear to you why he troubled himself so much about you. And it was even clearer why this worry was even greater when you had to make these trips. He couldn’t come with you, much to your shared disdain. The hike would be too strenuous on him. Even though he had survived his encounter with his old master…

It still did a large number on his health.

You didn’t want to shorten his lifespan, so you made these trips by yourself.

Even though you both knew this and accepted it, this didn’t stop his worry. He always made you take his saber with you, even if you had your own blaster.

Stepping closer to your love, your eyes stayed upon his mask as you took one of his hands into your own, pressing a soft kiss on the leather of his gloves as he looked down upon your face. Looking back up to meet his gaze, a small, warm smile enveloped your features.

Vader wondered how someone could be so damn perfect.

“I will, don’t worry.” you assured him, “Where is it?”

“I have placed it in our safe, my sweet.” he rumbled out, his gaze unable to falter from off of your frame.

Giving him a firm nod and standing on your tip-toes, you placed a small peck on the cheek of his mask before pushing past him, the tatters of his old cape upon your shoulders fluttering in the breeze of your steps.

Vader almost never carried his saber anymore. The crimson blade only reminded him of the past. He only seemed to wield it if he sensed some sort of danger threatening to disrupt your shared home. These instances were often in the middle of the night, and often woke you up from your sleep. And, even more often, there was absolutely no danger.

He was always so hard to calm down on those nights…

And even harder to convince to go back to sleep.

Stopping your steps in front of the safe, your knelt down in front of its door, punching in the code to open it as you felt his presence draw behind you. Reaching in, you wrapped your hands around the cool, polished metal of the hilt of his saber, attaching it to your belt as you closed the safe and stood up again. Turning on your heel, you were a bit spooked when you realized just how close he was. Taking a tiny step back, you looked up at his mask.

He seemed… off.

Even more so than usually when you had to go out.

Feeling his shift in mood, you shot up a warm smile at him before turning your gaze to the cape around his shoulders. Reaching your hands up, you took the blue cloth into your hands, smoothing it out as you spoke.

“Vee, I’ll be fine. I’ve done this a million times before, and there’s always nothing out there.” you tried to reassure him.

“I am aware, my dear.” he rumbled out.

Despite him not having much flavor to the inflections in his deep voice, you knew he wasn’t convinced. Moving your hands from his lapel to his mask, you cradled the metal in your palms, making him meet your gaze.

“Then there’s no need to worry, hmm?”

Gazing down at you in a long moment of silence, Vader contemplated your words. You wondered if he would ever say anything, but were quickly met with an answer as he placed his much larger hands upon yours.

“I suppose not…” he finally said.

You breathed out a smile as he continued.

“But please do be careful, my sweet. I shall eagerly await your return.”

Letting out a soft giggle, you gave him a broad, dopey smile as you spoke your response.

“Whatever you say, loverboy.”

~~~

The hike to the wreckage had left you sweaty and sore. It always did, but this didn’t stop you from complaining silently to yourself. Wiping the sweat that moistened your brow, you gazed upon the familiar wreckage for a moment before stepping inside, watching the ground to avoid any missteps.

The filters were usually located in the old medical bay of the old Star Destroyer. Fortunately, the walk from the entrance to the demolished medical bay wasn’t all that far. However, it was extremely dark. The power of this ship had gone out long ago, and darkness had quickly made it’s new home in it's dilapidated walls. Your pupils widening in the dark, you reached down to your belt, pushing your cape out of the way.

Your hand finding a long, cool cylinder of metal, you shot out a quick smile as your fingers wrapped around it.

Your love always was there for you, to guide you in the dark.

Unclipping the saber from your belt, you made sure to point the tip away from you as you pushed the igniter, springing the weapon to life. With a continuous, dull humm, the crimson of the blade illuminated your face in red, as well as your nearby surroundings. Wrapping your other hand around the hilt, you held your love’s weapon firmly as you made your way through the wreckage, following the red light that surrounded you.

Trailing on for a long while, you were eventually met with the old medical wing. Securing the saber into your left hand, you held it above your head as you pushed the doors open, the metal making an awful squeak as you did so.

Searching around the cracked and damaged storage bins and compartments of the old unit, you were pleased when you found a clean, unused filter. Hissing out a quiet yes to yourself, you took Vader’s old cape from off your shoulders and placed it on the ground. Putting the filter on top of the cloth, you made a make-shift bag out of the cape.

Bunching up the fabric and slinging it over your shoulder, you jumped as you heard a crash from behind you. Letting out a yelp and turning on your heel quickly, your heart started to race as you gripped both hands onto the crimson blade’s hilt, ready to strike at any moment.

When you were greeted with nothing but the sight of wreckage, you let your shoulders relax. Your heartrate slowing, you realized that there were no intruders or critters there to kill you. Dropping your gaze to the floor, you were met with the sight of a knocked-over crate. Focusing your eyes harder, you noticed an odd substance spilling out of the crate.

Kneeling down, you kept your lover’s saber above your head as you went in for a closer look. Your eyes adjusting in the red light, you were able to make out what the substance was.

Powder.

Overcome by your curiosity, you reached your hand down and took a few granules of the powder in between your pointer finger and thumb. Rubbing your two phalanges together as you brought them closer to your face, your eyebrows raised as you finally were able to deduce what it was.

Black powder.

Shifting your gaze down to the contents of the knocked-over crate, you saw that there were other tubes of other types of powders from a plethora of different materials.

Seeing these items struck an old chord deep inside you. You were familiar with what they would do when mixed together, but this familiarity was sourced from a long, long time ago. All the way back from when the empire was just forming. All the way back from your home planet…

As the memories flooded your mind, you felt the grip you had on your love’s saber tighten without you having to think about it. Realizing this, your lips parted as the beginnings of an idea formed in your mind. Letting it form for a few more moments, you smiled softly as you slipped the cape-bag off of your shoulders and opened it up, placing a few canisters of powder into it alongside the filter.

Tonight would be a good night for you and him.

~~~

Just as you had promised, you were back to the house before sundown. In fact, the excitement you felt from your idea coupled with the promise of returning to him made you come back before the sun had even begun to set, your steps having a certain pep to them.

Pushing open the door to your shared home, you called out an I’m home as you closed it behind you. Almost instantly, you heard the sound of his boots thudding over to you, alongside the sound of his respirator. Setting down his saber on a small table, you noticed in your peripheral a large, looming, black figure watching you from afar. A smile forming on your face, you turned your head towards the figure.

Your love.

You could tell from the aura around him that he was happy you were home again.

“(F/N),” he rumbled out, a hint of amusement in his voice, “How was your voyage?”

“It was good.” you responded, adjusting the cape-bag on your shoulder as you kicked off your boots, “I found another filter, and even a little surprise for later.”

Your love tilted his armored head at this. He often did when he was curious.

He was too damn cute sometimes.

“A surprise?” he asked.

“Yes, a surprise, Vee.” you said as you walked up to him, standing on your tiptoes to press a soft, quick kiss on his mask’s cheek as you walked past him to the living area.

Turning to face you, your love stayed put as he spoke, his gaze seemingly unable to falter off of your frame as you poured your bag’s contents out on the floor and sat in front of it.

“What is it, darling?” he asked, making you breathe out a giggle as you glanced up at him.

“If I tell you, then it won’t be a surprise anymore.” you said.

You could tell he was miffed as you saw his shoulders and posture stiffen. You could only smile as you started to poke through the items you had brought home.

“I wish to know what you are scheming, my dear.” he rumbled out.

You giggled again. Maker, you found him almost too damn cute.

“You’ll find out eventually what I’m scheming, love.” you said as you began to unscrew the lids to the powder canisters, “I promise you’ll like it.”

“I do not doubt that, my sweet.”

“Then stop fretting.” you giggled again, “Come on, you can help by keeping me company while I set this up.”

Realizing that he would get absolutely nowhere by pestering you further, Vader gave in to your scheme. Entering into the living room, he found a place where he could comfortably watch you work.

Watching you do what you were best at was one of his favorite pass-times.

And knowing what you were doing was for him only made it better.

~~~

He was spending some time in his meditation chamber when you finished. Instead of immediately getting him out of there, you took the opportunity to set up your scheme, as he called it.

Taking a blanket out of your storage closet, you picked up your scheme alongside the cloth and carried it outside. Finding a nice clearing of grass, you laid out the blanket in just the right spot.

It was now night time, and the cool breeze of the darkness made your hair sway as you set up your scheme. Once it was all finished, you stood up from your crouching position, looking out on the fields of your new home planet with a small smile on your face.

It was the perfect night. It was the perfect night for him. The stars were as bright as ever, and the rich blues and blacks of night accented the green of the vegetation so very well.

This was all for him. You loved him endlessly, and you dedicated yourself to making the rest of his days as comfortable as possible. He had been through so, so much…

And you hoped that nights like this would help him accept everything and move on.

Maker above, did you try so hard to make him accept the past.

But you didn’t mind.

Not one bit.

Dusting off your hands, you headed back inside once everything was complete. Making your way into your shared bedroom, you focused your gaze upon the meditation pod that took up nearly half of the space. Slowly but surely, you reached up your hand and knocked gently on the metal.

“Vee?” you called out, hoping you weren’t disturbing him too much, “Your surprise is ready, if you wanna come out…”

After a moment, the metal of the pod finally raised up with a sharp hiss, causing you to take a step back. Watching him rise from his seated position and begin the motions of stepping out, you stepped forward. Taking one of his hands into yours and draping your arm across his back, you helped him step down from the pod, giving him support in case he started to feel weak.

“Have you finished your scheme, darling?” he asked you once he was stable.

You breathed out a smile, keeping his hands secure in your own.

“Yes, love. My scheme is done,” you said, “Come on, come see.”

With that, you turned on your heel and led him by the hand outside. You could feel that he was perplexed, but pushed on anyway. You only stopped once you reached the blanket you had laid out.

“Here we are,” you cooed, “Take a seat, Vee.”

Following your request, he shifted his weight to sit upon the blanket, leaning some of it upon you as you helped him be seated. Taking a seat next to him, you reached out and grabbed a panel of buttons you had thrown together that evening. Fiddling with the panel, Vader looked down at you as you worked, feeling his heart swell with awe and pride.

He had never been so in love.

“Do you wish to finally tell me what this plot is, my dear?” he asked, making you smile.

“Yes, I do.” you responded without looking up from the buttons.

“Then please, enlighten me.”

Letting out a giggle at his teasing vocabulary, you spoke your response.

“Well, in my home village, we called them color rockets, but you probably know them as fireworks. We would make our own and launch them on holidays or days of harvest…”

Pressing one final button, the sound of one of your home-made fireworks launching filled your ears. Shifting your gaze to the sky, your smile broadened as you saw the streaks of color illuminate the night, the hues reflecting on your skin and in yours eyes.

Looking to him, your eyes softened with warmth as you continued.

“Or, we would make them as a token of love for our partners.”

Vader couldn’t even begin to think of something to say in that moment. He was unquestionably, undeniably, and totally speechless.

You were so damn beautiful. Both inside and out, your beauty outshone even the brightest stars in the galaxy. Even though the two of you had been together for years now, he still wondered why you chose him of all people. You were so good, and when the two of you met…

He wasn’t.

Not in the slightest.

He was cruel.

Mean.

Unforgiving.

Evil.

Yet still, even through all the bad, even through all his baggage, even through all the moments where his past came back to haunt him…

You stayed with him. Supported him, even…

Loved him, even.

And maker above did he love you for it.

Alongside all the other million reasons why he loved you.

He hoped that you didn’t mind that he didn’t know what to say in that moment. The way you smiled up at him and looked at him said that you didn’t, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Reaching up his hand, he placed it upon your cheek, holding your face as gently as he could. He felt his heart swell as your smile broadened as you leaned into his touch, placing your small hands on top of his own.

Maker above, if Lord Vader were able to stop time…

He would do it in this exact moment.

Never in his life had he felt so at peace…

So in love…

So relaxed…

So...

Free.

~~~

TAGS: @captainrexstan , @spaghetti-666 , @breakfastpizzagalaxy , @missmannequin , @clearnostolgia , @easterncryptid

#darth vader x reader #darth vader #fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfic #fanfic

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rovvboat · 6 years

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Paper Planes - Colossus/Piotr Rasputin x Reader

Part 2

word count: 2.5k

Warnings: mostly fluff! implied sexy times ;)

Summary: Piotr returns from his trip back home, greeted by a very enthusiastic reader. The two have dinner together, sharing their stories whilst away - when they both succumb to the needs of being away for so long.

The Professor watches from his wheelchair as you spar with Ororo on the training field. You maneuver yourself swiftly around her, dodging her attacks from the air. She wasn’t using her elemental attacks at the moment – just to keep you on your toes and allow yourself to adapt to aerial attacks.

‘’Alright. You may both begin powered attacks. Y/N, please focus on Ororo’s aerial attacks this time.’’ The Professor instructs aloud. You move into your fight stance and as does Ororo. She throws the first punch, shooting lightning bolts at you. You immediately pull your strongest papers and form a shield around you. You smile as you hear the papers spark, before the burning a bright crimson. You aim your now flaming balls of fire towards Ororo and send them in hot, surrounding her in fire. She raises her arms in response, as a vortex swirls around her – putting out the flames. You send in more papers after her.

You strain to hold your hoards of paper against the forceful vacuum of the vortex, and when it finally dissipates, you let the paper disintegrate into the ground. You charge towards her, and she moves to try to topple the ground beneath you. You quickly gather up the disintegrated paper and harden it around her wrists, pulling it – and her – down to the ground. You hastily encase her in a paper cocoon – clenching them into a higher density that was too heavy to break free from.

‘’Nice work!’’ Logan shouts from beside the Professor, which you took as a signal to conclude.

‘’Sorry about that.’’ You wince as you release Ororo from your paper.

‘’No child, that was an excellent show of your powers! This is cause for celebration!’’ She clasps her hands.

You feel the joys of improvement swell up in you, and can’t help but smile. You think about Piotr, and how proud he would be when he sees how much you’ve refined your skills. You raise your head wistfully to the horizon, thinking about how much longer you would have to wait.

‘’Ya excited, darlin’? It’s been 2 weeks, hasn’t it? He should be back in a few days.’’ Logan says as he walks up next to you.

You nod at him and turn to ask the Professor for details, when a low rumbling noise rises beyond the horizon – catching your ear – roaring louder and louder until you see the unmistakable shape of an X-Jet flying towards the mansion’s hanger. It was the Black Sea Hawk – the one Piotr had taken to see his family.

‘’That’s– It’s Piotr!’’

Your heart wells up with excitement at the thought of finally getting to see him again. He had tried to write to you but, due to his hidden identity, the Professor decided that it would not be ideal for him to be in contact with you in a traceable manner.

You, of course, took matters into your own hands. As you came to master your paper abilities more and more, you realized you had a plethora of uses for them that you had never bothered to think about. If all you needed was to be non-traceable, what better way than to be your own mailing service?

So, for the past 2 weeks, you had sent Piotr letters of your own – or letter rather, since you only had time to send one.

Dear Petey

How’s Russia? I heard it was going to be super duper cold! Hope you’re getting to spend a lot of time with Illyana and the rest of your family. Things here are super boring without you; I’ve even resorted to painting in my spare time – can you believe? I’m still not good at it, but hey at least I can use the canvas for my foldings if I didn’t like what I painted :P Anyway… I’ve gotten pretty good at combat and I can’t wait to show you my moves! Hope to see you soon Petey, though I think that it’s very likely that your return will be postponed another week. Storm says there might be a storm front, and that it would be dangerous for you to return. But that’s for the best yeah? More time back home! I’ll see you soon petey.

Love,

Y/N

P.S this bird will erase the words I’ve written once you’ve read it – but I think it would make a great gift for Illyana! It flies and acts like a real bird! I hope she’ll like it.

Once you finished penning down your days, you fashioned it into a falcon and used your powers to guide the bird to Piotr. It wasn’t an easy task – you researched flight patterns and navigation from Angel and the Professor (though you carefully neglected to tell them what exactly for – ‘for some general knowledge, in case I get lost somewhere’ you would cheekily deflect if they asked.) You made the bird into a sturdy little critter, before allowing it to soar the skies to find its’ recipient. You were not sure whether it found him, but you made sure that the bird would disintegrate in the wrong hands – and that was assurance enough to take the risk.

Your head follows the path of the jet, as it swiftly flies over the training grounds towards the hanger. The excitement makes you restless, and in an instant, you’re dashing across the field – as the disgruntled voice of Logan calls after you – ‘’You’re not done yet, Y/N!’’ – which falls largely on deaf ears.

Once you reach the entrance, you realise that the hanger was too out of ways for you to reach by foot before Piotr gets out of the jet. An idea pops into your head, as you summon all the nearby paper from the rooms on the second floor. They spiral around you, before lifting you up in a wave as you ride the whirling tide, and lift yourself up towards the hanger.

Once you’re directly over the hanger, you hurriedly enter through the roof’s opening before it closed. You were floating close to the ceiling when you spot Piotr walking out of the jet and onto the platform. He looks back to shut the jet door, when he sees a swirling mass of white heading straight for him. His eyes widen– ‘’Bozhe–‘’ as the sound of you squealing his name echoes to the high ceilings, and come crashing into him in full force with your arms wide open.

He topples over from the surprise attack, but the paper gathers under him, and softens his landing as you lay on top of him – both of you in a fit of giggling and laughter.

‘’I missed you so much! How was the trip? How was your family? Was it cold? How’s Illyana? Did you–‘’ You stop when his large arms drape over you tenderly, pulling you into a hug.

‘’I missed you very much too. But just because we first met by colliding, doesn’t mean we need to always have to meet by collision.’’ He jokes.

You look up at him and give a toothy smile, when you hear Ororo’s voice cut through the moment.

‘’My oh my, look what the cat dragged in. It is nice to see you back, Piotr. It seems you had a really warm welcome.’’ Ororo teases – with her arms folded – greeting you both with a suggestive smile. You quickly move to get up, and allow the papers to get Piotr back up on his feet – pushing him up from behind.

Piotr goes to greet Ororo with a hug, as Logan and the Professor arrive at the hanger.

‘’Nice ta’ have ya back, Pete.’’ Logan gives Piotr a firm handshake. ‘’Someone’s missed you an ‘awful lot around her.’’ You bump Logan’s shoulder as he says this, making Piotr laugh.

‘’Professor, I deeply appreciate the opportunity to visit my family.’’ He thanks the Professor.

‘’Don’t thank me, Y/N did most of the heavy lifting for you. You’ve got some things to catch up on, so I suggest you get some rest before resuming your duties tomorrow.’’ The Prof advises.

‘’C’mon, lets get you unpacked this time!’’ You gather your papers and make them lift up the luggage he brought back. You let them take the luggage back to his room, as you walk back with Piotr. You notice his droopy eyes and slouching demeanor as he meanders down the hallway with you.

‘’Must’ve been some trip, huh? You look exhausted.’’

‘’Da. Long flight, and I had to keep watch at night in case of another storm.’’ He says heaving a sigh. ‘’Oh yes, I received your bird back home! Illyana adores the present. And I loved the letter, it was sweet. Illyana made you a gift as well, I will show it to you once we get to my room.’’ He mentions when a light yawn steals his attention, as he faces away from you to cover his mouth.

You chuckle at the scene before you. You’ve never seen such a giant towering man needing an afternoon nap so badly.

‘’Hey, that can wait. You get some rest. I’ll bring dinner up to your room later.’’ You say, reaching for the doorknob of his room. He nods at you sluggishly, before pulling his weight into the room. The last thing you see is his massive frame dropping like a dead man onto the mattress, as you let his bedroom door squeal shut behind him.

You go about your day, getting things ready for when Piotr returns to teaching classes tomorrow – when dinner time rolls around. You grab a tray and stack it up with some tomato pasta, a big colourful salad bowl, some seasoned baby potatoes and 2 plates of nice big juicy steak smack in the middle. You also bring with you two glasses of wine. You put your papers to the task of carrying the tray full of food fit for a king.

You knock on Piotr’s door. ‘’Room service!’’ You voice out.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you were about to see when the door opened. A half-naked Piotr stands in the doorway, chest glistening as drops of water trail down to his waist – his head tilted to the side as he rubs his hair dry with a small towel. He only has his sweatpants on low around his waist, and you can’t help but ogle at him – blood rushing up to your face – before mentally slapping yourself back to the present when he speaks.

‘’Ah Y/N. Is it dinner time already? Come, it is warmer inside.’’ He pushes the door wide open, before turning around and walking toward his closet. He picks out a large dark green T-shirt and throws it over his head.

You lustfully gaze at him as you make your way in (not sure if it was the empty stomach, or the long time away from him) – your amorous eyes unwavering as he tugs the shirt smoothly over his head – his hands grabbing the ends and pulling it over his chiseled form – smoothing it down over his stomach, before turning back at you with a bright smile.

You bashfully turn your attention away from him before he could notice, feigning to have been preoccupied with setting out the tray onto the coffee table which sits near the small balcony.

‘’So, uh they made steak today. Looks amazing.’’ You fluster, trying to reel from what just happened.

‘’That sounds very good! I am famished! Let’s eat!’’

You both sit on much-too-small stools against the rails of the balcony, as the cool night breeze tickles your ears. You share with him how the Professor had helped you master your powers in the two weeks that he was gone, and how painting probably isn’t your calling. His awe and wonder – followed by his laughter – at that revelation reminds you of just how much you missed him, his voice now eagerly recounting all the different places he brought Illyana – and how much she had always she insisted on bringing ptichka ‘little birdie’ whenever they went to the market, or a trip into town.

‘’Oh! Before I forget, she wanted me to give something to you. She wouldn’t let me see, but I hope you like it.’’ He rummages through his duffel bag, before hearing the unmistakable crinkling of a folded piece of paper. You raise your brows expectantly – immensely intrigued by what his little snowflake had in store for you – as he holds it out for you take.

You mindfully unravel the folds of the paper, as it grew in size between your fingers. You behold the scene on the drawing size paper – chuckling as you realise what she had drawn. You flip it around so that you could both see it.

It was a carefully drawn picture of Piotr, Illyana and one other person.

their mother?

To the left, there was a tastefully drawn and designed castle – scaling towards the yellow sun with black shades in the corner – made of the furious back and forth scribbling of grey crayons that only a kid can muster. Next to the castle stood who you could only assume was Piotr in a knight’s armour – with his face exposed in a D-shaped smile. He was holding hands with a girl with blonde hair who was dressed in a pretty light blue dress. Of course, that was Illyana, but holding onto her other hand was someone else – taller than her, but shorter than Piotr. She had the same hair colour as you, and was wearing a beautiful pastel green dress. You notice something yellow on the top of her head, and you realise it’s a crown.

‘’Is that…? Is that me? With a crown?’’

‘’I suppose it is. Snowflake loves princesses. And when she saw the polaroid of us, she immediately called you printsessa. She said that you were as beautiful as a princess would be, and I agree.’’ He says, aiming a smile at you – before shyly looking away with bashful huff, almost as if he was internally chiding himself for letting that slip out.

‘’Well, I think I like that. Printsessa. Thank you, Piotr. I love it very much. This–‘’ you point to the drawing– ‘’is going on my wall’’ You say proudly.

As the night draws to a close, you clear the tray and command your papers to bring them down to the sink – they’ve become like little minions to you, and they do make life a whole lot easier. You bid Piotr a goodnight and walk towards the door, when you feel a hand tugging you back – as you come face to face with Piotr.

‘’Perhaps… you could stay the night? Printsessa?’’

You smirk at the request and nickname, as he draws you in closer to him – his gentle hands catching the small of your back, as your hands cup his face.

‘’Perhaps… I will…’’ You breathe, as his face comes closer to yours – noses grazing as they find a space next to each other. His lips brush against yours for just a ticklish moment, teasing you of what’s to come – before tenderly joining yours.

Your bodies slowly waltz towards his bed, as you let yourself be overcome in his kiss, his lips pushing you deeper into it – needy, hungry, wanting. You recline onto the bed – without breaking the kiss – as he hovers over you, hands wandering, mapping the gentle curves of your body. A yelping moan escapes you, head dipping back, as he lowers a kiss onto your neck – and in that moment, you let yourself be whisked away into the unraveling depth of the night.

Taglist!

@emma-frxst @fluffymadamina @whitewitchdown @candle-light-writings

(tagging the last 2 of you for this particular fic bc you guys rq-ed a part 2 :D - send an ask if ya wanna be on the permanent taglist :)

#colossus x reader #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus #piotr rasputin #colossus imagine #piotr rasputin imagine #marvel fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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skyler10fic · 6 years

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Paper, honey, poppy for the soft asks :)

paper - favorite children’s book?I loved the American Girl books as a kid, but even earlier than that, the Little Critter books and Berenstain Bears were favorites.

honey - favorite term of endearment?I think everyone knows I use “friend” a lot. I want to make sure you always know where you stand with me. I consider y’all my friends and have so much love for our community here.

I like “love” and “dear” but if you use them, know it’s a sign of close intimacy for me so I might start thinking of you as one of my innermost circle. ;)

poppy - favorite pastel color?I like light yellow and pink! oo but lavendar is nice as well.

Ask me soft asks

p.s. I feel like I should explain why these are coming so late. I went to bed super early last night because I’ve been really struggling with my anxiety and sleep has been rough. I went to the doctor today and got some good help and a new med and a referral, so hopefully there is some improvement coming.

#joi-in-the-tardis

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biglittlecrane · 4 years

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I was looking for pictures of bighorn sheep, having never seen one. I found lots and lots of hunting photos and dead examples of what I was looking for.

I can’t help but realize, as I look at their little hunter (beaming) faces, that they are inevitably the type with weird, shrill little dogs, whom they claim to love. I should mention that I’m pro 2nd amendment. Hunters belong to Democrats, because they’re thieves, too. Thanks for ruining my morning by being you. Hopefully, I have returned the favor.

I should also point out that this is what search platforms like YouTube (in this case, Bing) do. They know that people who click on a picturesque photo of a bighorn sheep with a tagline like, “Attention rock-climbing enthusiasts...” are NOT looking for pictures of hunters. YouTube knows that people searching for “funny animals” are not looking for animals being tortured. If you google “beautiful sunrise”, you’re not looking for a guy in a thong gazing at a “sunrise”. “Funny signs” is probably not an old “Jackass” video, and “gene wilder” is not “Ellen” or “Jimmy Fallon”. Those platforms do this to manipulate you into getting angry at whoever fits their narrative. & yes, this is me, falling for it.

So, dear hunters, I don’t really like you, especially those of you who hunt something I’d have to travel for days to even see. Dear hunters, I know a lot of you (on an individual level) are people that I usually like, until you stick a photo of your grisly, unnatural weird little heathen ritual in my face, and I realize there’s a path of destruction behind you. I also know a lot of Dems that are nice, respectable, seemingly normal people. I just don’t know WTF is wrong with you. I’m not even getting into the weirdness of enjoying the suffering of a little critter, or enjoying the suffering of some nice little person who liked the creature. I’ll simply say this: I’m not a protestor. I’m not a liberal. I eat meat and wear shoes. I’m a Christian who absolutely believe in minding my own business, honoring the free will and choices God gave you, and being able to practice my 2nd amendment rights. (Despite the fact I don’t shoot every day, despite the fact that my eyesight’s not the best, I can absolutely hit whatever I’m shooting at. It’s kind of eerie. I’m a great shot, even when I’m not at my best, and therefore, I actually like shooting.)

So, just a little reminder, (especially to those western PA idiots with their “willful ignorance”, pet crap, feral cats, and bags of garbage) that if you’re on my farm with a loaded weapon, I’m going to happily assume you’re an attacking Socialist, and thereby resume my thermite practice. I’ll feel very badly if you turn out to be a nice, seemingly normal average hunter person, in the throes of their Sam Hain ritual sacrifice, lying in the icy mud in my backyard (in what is easily the least likable section of my property) waiting for an eternity for some poor stupid pet of mine to walk by, having “accidentally” wandered onto my land. I’ll feel bad.

P.S., to the rest of my beloved countrymen, PLEASE STOP PLAYING DEVIL’S ADVOCATE-JUST BE GOOD PEOPLE. Socialists love that devil’s advocate shit. I am never going to like hunting as a sport. I am never going to like people who desperately want my attention. I am never going to sympathize with trespassers.

#propaganda #the media is the enemy #The Swamp #saynotothemob

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ulfwolf · 4 years

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Carnivores — Musing 9

Who made such a world Where for one being to live another must die?

This, I admit, is a recurring theme because it is a thought and a notion and a perplexity and a question that refuses to leave me alone.

Here it is expressed for the first time (well, for my first time) in a five-seven-five Wolfku, and it states my quandary quite clearly: on this planet (and for all I know, in this universe) we have to compete for food, and in this competition someone always has to die, whether that someone is a blade of grass, a carrot, a chicken, a cow, a shrimp, a bird, a worm, you name it, someone (and I used the pronoun someone because it is alive, it is a being of some sort) has to give up his, or her, or its life to feed someone else. The only life forms here on earth that are not born killers are plants (nice beings that they are) who live on sunshine and what chemicals the earth provides.

I was raised a Christian. Well, sort of. I was certainly raised to believe that God was good, not an evil bone in his Godly body. All-merciful God, the all-compassionate God, the all-forgiving God. Yet, yet, if I’m to believe that He did in fact create the Heavens and the Earth according to His plan (which my maternal grandmother—mormor—certainly drummed into me all summer long during my forming years: four through eleven or so), He has set up a really messed-up game here. Does the all-merciful One really enjoy all this incessant killing? Why on earth would He? How on earth could He? Cheap kicks? One can only shake one’s earthly, bewildered head.

I picture the earth worm hanging on for (literally) dear life to the, yes, earth while the little (cute, sure) bird has the worm by its tail and pulls with all its might to dislodge the recalcitrant critter who seems to want to go on living. From the bird’s perspective: perhaps her chicks are starving, perhaps they are near death, and if so, at this point it’s either the earth worm or the chicks. Truly, a bird no-brainer. From the worm’s perspective: life’s been good so far, and this actually hurts. I am not letting go, though. A worm no-brainer.

And God, watching (as He watches every critter and creature on earth—including, if my grandmother is to be believe, each and every thought of each and every being as well), is He getting his fill of kicks now? Does He enjoy the earthworm’s struggle to stay alive? Does he enjoy the starving chicks back in the nest?

Surely, surely, had He wanted to, He could have designed and arranged a much better, a much more merciful food-chain—say, one that would let us all live and grow on sunshine. Since, supposedly, He is all-knowing, all-seeing, incredibly smart and clever, no one’s going to tell me that conceiving of a non-killing food supply for all His critters would be beyond his ken, that would be a little sacrilegious, no? So, He would have been (and still is) capable of a kinder, more merciful way of keeping all His children alive and well.

So, and that is really the question, why didn’t He? Why on earth didn’t He? Yes, I know, Man has since written a book called the Bible and in this book it says (Genesis 1:28): And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

That verse is also known as the terrestrial carte blanche: yes, go ahead and subdue, kill whatever you want and eat it. You’re at the top of the food chain. They’re your slaves and minions. Well done.

I can only shake my earthly, bewildered head again.

We have a stellar contradiction here, far too large (and obvious) to notice for most of us: the kindest Being in the Universe has designed the cruelest game in the Universe. And that sits well with most of us?

Again, this earthly, bewildered head shakes.

P.S. If you like what you’ve read here and would like to contribute to the creative motion, as it were, you can do so via PayPal: here.

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jackblankhsh · 7 years

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Wise Fool: Steak Lady, and Strawberry Jelly

Giving advice is a tricky thing. Does one base recommendations on personal experience, or empirical research? Perhaps a careful amalgamation of the two, but even that balanced approach leaves open the worry of how to tell if advice is actually any good. Though the most important question is why am I giving advice?

Ever since high school people have come to me for advice. Why? I have no idea. The best guess I can manage is that many people vent their problems in the form of a question. They aren't actually seeking advice, just asking for it in order to indirectly bring up a particular issue. The main reason I say that is because most people don't need advice, they need someone to support the idea they already have in mind.

See, if you end up in a situation because of the choices you've made it's hard to listen to yourself since whatever dilemma you're facing feels like your fault. In a bad relationship? You got yourself in it, so can you really trust your idea how to get out of it? Of course you can, but it doesn't hurt to have a voice outside your head saying, "Do what you think is right."

And yes, there are certainly occasions where folks have personal problems which make it hard for them to trust their own inner Abby (i.e. social anxiety, depression, alcoholism, etc.); however, that's why I said "most people." Yet, even those genuinely seeking advice aren't looking for someone to tell them what to do. They're looking for options they can't see because of mental blinders.

All that said, I also know I have the reputation of being that person who will say your girlfriend is annoying, your boyfriend is cheating on you, and if your Pops beats you, well, he's gotta sleep sometime, and when he does you wail on him with a bat until he's paralyzed. Other side of that coin, I rarely take things seriously which means bringing a thin silver thread to many situations: the upside to chemotherapy is that you'll save money not having to get haircuts {rimshot}. Hey, sometimes people need a laugh more than advice.

As such, it recently came up among friends that I should try my hand at the question-and-answer column. So here we go.

"Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn't..."

-- Erica Jong, How to Save Your Own Life

Dear Wise Fool,

Today I was cleaning my apartment (ok really it was more like collecting dishes around the apartment and putting it in the sink to pretend I'm not actually a garbage person). As a reward for not being total garbage, I ate a big steak (yes, that's it because I can't cook much else) and I realized that I am currently a 30 year old single woman living like a 26 year post-college man. Should I be worried?

Sincerely,

Steak Lady

Dear Steak Lady,

First off, how you clean your apartment is between you and whatever tasty conception of divinity you embrace, whether it be original recipe Jesus, or kaiseki Shinto -- Shinto: the Asian faith Westerners haven't co-opted (praise Kukulkan). The point being: at least make sure there's a path. To where? Preferably one exit, but try for the bathroom, bed, and/or fridge. These can serve as game trails for hunting rats if you ever wake up in a maze of your own filth, unable to leave the apartment, feeding on whatever critters live in the clutter as well as the naive deliver personnel who foolishly wander inside.

Second, hell yeah reward steak. You should always treat yourself when you accomplish tasks, especially the ones you don't want to do. Rewards are incentives. You're more likely to do something again if your brain is under the impression there's some kind of pleasurable cause and effect. After all, no one would have sex if it felt like getting gut punched... some might, but that's another topic.

As to your main concern, the real question is are you comfortable with your situation? So many people try to contort their lives based on the misconception that by a certain point in life a person should be at point {blank}, as if life is lived according to timetables. If at 30 you're living like a post-college 26 year old man, worry should only exist if you can't pay your bills, the CDC has quarantined your apartment, or the homeless see you on the street and give you change. Life is all about finding a comfortable groove. Some folks spend their whole existence struggling to achieve that, and many often don't.

Yet, keep in mind that human existence is incredibly malleable. The fact you're expressing concerns suggests a worry perhaps there are things this lifestyle is preventing you from doing. If that's the case then make changes. I recommend eating that steak with a knife and fork to start. The barehanded, tooth and claw method of most mid-twenty males is appealing, and saves on dishwashing, but embracing some of civilization's innovations is a good way to start appreciating life from a different angle. Think of a new routine like a new outfit. Try it on, and if it doesn't feel right, you can always hang it up in the closet to show people, "See, I wore that once. Didn't like it. Who wants a handful of ice cream?"

Ultimately, I say if you're comfortable then stick with how you're living until it isn't making you happy. Don't let the apartment get too junky because your surroundings can affect your mood -- cleaning up a bit can provide a sense of accomplishment on otherwise unproductive days. (I'm speaking from experience on that last bit.) The truth is life has no settings, certainly nothing permanent. This may be how you're living now, but in a few years everything might've changed without you even doing a thing. Just remember, whatever happens, to keep yourself open to possibilities and be as happy as possible... because you'll be dead one day, and your concern on that occasion won't be the dirty dishes on the shelf. Live the way that makes you happy -- no meth, I can't stress that enough -- and if you aren't happy then make changes.

Respectfully,

Wise Fool

P.S. here's a simple bachelor grade recipe to augment that steak:

Ingredients:

One can Campbell's chicken rice soup.

One jar salsa.

Minute rice.

Shredded cheese of your choice.

Tortillas.

Directions:

Pour soup into pot. Refill empty can with minute rice, pour into pot; refill empty can with water, pour into pot. Bring to boil. Cover and reduce heat to simmer. Let sit five minutes.

Cute steak into strips. Fry in pan. When nearing desired temperature (i.e. medium rare) add rice and desired amount of salsa to pan. Stir, heating until bubbling.

Serve on tortillas with desired amount of cheese sprinkled on top. Heat of meal will melt the cheese.

Serves: 1 to make-your-own-ya-want-some.

Dear Wise Fool,

My friend wants to know if strawberry jelly is actually a lubricant.

Sincerely,

Asking for a friend who isn't me

Dear "Friend" of a Jelly pervert,

I take all the questions I'm asked with the seriousness of a surgeon about to crack open a child's skull, and scoop out brain cancer. So when I saw this inquiry I knew better than to assume this might be a strictly sexually inclined question.

In that regard the answer is no. If your "friend" is attempting to lube anything mechanical with strawberry jelly you can safely categorize them using the taxon dim fuck wit. All their suggestions regarding anything mechanical should henceforth be taken with a pinch of salt, by which I mean blow a pinch of salt in their eye whenever they start spouting dim fuck wit nonsense.

However, sexually speaking the question becomes a shade more complicated. Strawberry jelly can be used as a playful alternative to conventional sex lubes, but if used as such should only be applied externally. Greasy up a dick about to plunge into a hole is not a good idea. Just because something can safely go in your stomach doesn't mean it can healthily enter other orifices. Swords are one example. Speaking of which, if I stabbed you, and started pouring honey in the wound (I hope) you wouldn't think, "Well, at least now I'm full of sweetness." Obviously you already were full of sweetness otherwise I wouldn't have stabbed you with a maple tap. But I digress... the point is strawberry jelly isn't meant for internal use. It contains sugar which can foster a variety of infections, and even a minimal amount of stickiness will only be counterproductive.

Your "friend" would be better off investigating the myriad varieties of strawberry flavored lubricants designed specifically for sexual purposes. Like those intended to mitigate the unpleasant flavors stemming from ass to mouth. Yet, I don't wish to discourage anyone from enjoying experimentation. For instance, if slathering your lady's vagina with strawberry jelly like a piece of dry toast is the only way you can enjoy eating it then by all means let that jelly loose.

To recap: is strawberry jelly lubricant?

Not for anything mechanical you dim fuck wit. However, it can be a playful addition to external sexy sex sexiness.

Hungry for toast,

Wise Fool

If you, or your friends, or "friends" have any questions they'd like answered, write to honestyisnotcontagious (AT) hotmail.com. In the subject line please write WISE FOOL: {your alias}, so we don't filter it into trash. We want to decide if it's trash. Remember to keep things anonymous. Also be aware, any advice is just a suggestion. Ultimately, and for legal reasons, what you do is what you choose to do. Additionally, though your questions will be regarded seriously they will be answered with varying degrees of sarcasm in the interest of humor.

#honesty is not contagious #honestyisnotcontagious #writing #advice #ask me questions #questions and answers #comedy #humor #wisefool

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