âż you can send stuff in through either of my blogs âż
.â˘Â° ⿠°â˘. side blog for all things x-men related đ¤ all my fics will be posted on my main but iâll make sure to link everything on this blog as well đŤśđź °â˘. âż .â˘Â°
âżP.S. all the characters iâll write for are listed in my about meâż
iâm writing a scene where reader finds a really cute dress, but i want it to be a style/cut that flatters all of us girlies: meaning all body types.
and i feel like milkmaid dresses like this specifically are literally the cutest and will work but i could also be bias because i personally love this style
The thing about Krypto in the new Superman movie is that he's a bad dog. He's a good boy, he's such a good boy, he's the goodest boy ever, but he's a bad dog.
He achieves this apparent paradox by being loyal and loving but also being smart enough to know how to be a good dog and simply declining the option. He could be a good boy and follow commands any time he wants, he just doesn't want to.
requested by @groovy-lady May I please request some fluffy married Howard Stark & fem!Reader fic in which Howie and his wife finally get to go on their honeymoon (they got married soon after WWII ended and since Howard has a business to run Howie and Reader hadnât gotten to have their honeymoon because of how busy they -especially Howard- had been) and itâs just lots of romantic adorableness with some sensuality thrown in? :3
Summary: You spend time with your newlywed husband.
Warnings: fluff
WC: 632
Read on ao3!
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The sun hung low on the horizon, casting golden hues over the sapphire waters of the Amalfi Coast. The sea breeze danced through the open balcony doors of the luxurious villa, carrying with it the mingling scents of salt and citrus. After years of waiting, Howard Stark finally had his bride all to himself, with no projects, meetings, or emergencies to interrupt them.
âHowie,â you called teasingly, watching your husband fiddle with a camera by the railing. He had a determined frown, the kind you often saw when he was engineering something back in his lab.
âJust hold still, sweetheart,â he murmured, squinting as he adjusted the lens. âI need to capture you exactly like this.â
You laughed softly, brushing your fingers against the hem of your sundress as you turned to face him fully. âWeâre on our honeymoon, Howard. Maybe the camera can wait?â
He froze mid-adjustment, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. The corners of his mouth lifted in a sly grin as he set the camera aside. âFair point. Why immortalize the view when I could be basking in it?â
Howard crossed the balcony to you, his hands sliding around your waist. He pulled you closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. âYou know,â he murmured, his voice low and velvety, âIâve been dreaming about this. Just us. No Stark Industries, no world-ending crises, no distractions.â
You cupped his cheek, your thumb tracing the faint stubble along his jaw. âIt was worth the wait,â you said, your voice filled with quiet sincerity. âAll of it.â
He smiled, softer now, and leaned in to kiss you. His lips were warm, his kiss unhurriedâsweet but carrying the unmistakable spark of the man you loved. When he pulled back, his brown eyes gleamed with mischief.
âCare to test out that infinity pool downstairs?â he suggested, his hands playfully tugging at the sash of your dress.
You swatted his hand lightly, laughing. âPatience, Mr. Stark. Dinner first.â
Howard groaned dramatically, releasing you just long enough to hold out his arm. âIf my wife insists. Shall we?â
The villaâs private dining area was set for two, the table adorned with flickering candles and a spread of Italian dishes that smelled divine. As you ate, Howardâs charm was on full display, recounting stories from the war and his early days of invention, each tale more exaggerated and entertaining than the last.
âYouâre incorrigible,â you said, shaking your head as you sipped your wine.
âAnd you adore me,â he countered, his grin widening.
When the plates were cleared, the sky had turned a deep indigo, scattered with stars. Howard stood, offering you his hand. âDance with me?â
âThereâs no music,â you said, even as you let him pull you to your feet.
He hummed softly, guiding you into his arms. The tune was familiarâa swing number he used to play on the phonograph when you first started dating. Your laughter melted into contentment as he led you in a slow, swaying rhythm, the world fading away until there was only the two of you.
As the night wore on, the sensuality of his touch deepened. His fingers traced the small of your back, his kisses trailing along your collarbone, leaving you breathless and wanting.
âYouâre everything Iâve ever wanted,â Howard whispered against your ear, his voice thick with emotion. âThis heart, this lifeâitâs all yours, darling.â
The villa, the coast, the starsâit was all beautiful, but none of it compared to the love shining in Howardâs eyes. For the first time since your wedding day, it felt like the world had finally stopped spinning, allowing you both to simply be.
And in that moment, surrounded by warmth and love, you knew the wait for this honeymoon had been worth every second.
I see a man (fictional), I am generally like "okay". I see the same man (fictional) being put in a situation, covered in dirt and blood, perhaps soaking wet, actively sobbing and shaking like a chihuahua, and I am saying "yay" and "yippee" and things of this nature
Summary: Logan tries so desperately to push you away.
Warnings: angst, arguments.
WC: 940ish
Read on Ao3!
The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating. You stood in front of Logan, your hands trembling at your sides, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. His eyes were sharp, full of that unyielding intensity he was known for. But tonight, that intensity was focused entirely on you.
"You canât keep doing this," you said, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to remain steady. "Every time you push me away, it hurts, Logan. Itâs like youâre always looking for a reason to run."
Loganâs jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Iâm not good for you," he growled, his voice low and rough. "You think you know me, but you donât. You donât know what Iâve done."
"I donât care!" you shouted, your frustration boiling over. "I donât care about your past, or what you think youâve done. I care about youâabout who you are now."
But Logan wasnât listening. His eyes darkened, the walls heâd built around himself growing higher with every word. He turned away from you, running a hand through his disheveled hair as if he was trying to get a grip on himself, on the emotions he refused to acknowledge.
"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, pacing the room like a caged animal. "Youâll regret this. Youâll regret staying with me. Hell, youâll regret even meeting me."
You felt the sting of his words like a slap to the face. Logan always had a way of cutting deep, of saying just the right thing to push people away. But this time, you werenât going to let him. Not without a fight.
"Stop telling me how Iâm supposed to feel!" you snapped, stepping forward, your voice trembling with the weight of everything youâd kept inside for too long. "I made my choice, Logan. I chose you, knowing everything. And you? Youâre the one whoâs afraid, not me."
Logan froze at that, his back still turned to you, but his entire body tense, coiled like a spring. For a moment, the only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the silence between you deafening.
He didnât respond, and that hurt more than anything. The man who could heal from any wound was terrified of letting you heal his heart. It was ironic, tragic even.
"Look at me," you pleaded, your voice softer now, the anger giving way to desperation. "Please, just⌠look at me."
Slowly, Logan turned, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions youâd rarely seen from him. Anger, frustration, fear⌠but underneath it all, something softer. Something he was too proud, too stubborn to admit.
"You think youâre better off with me," he said, his voice low and bitter. "But Iâm tellinâ ya, youâll regret this decision forever. Youâll regret tying yourself to someone like me."
The weight of his words hung in the air, but you werenât going to let him win this fight. Not this time.
"Maybe I will," you said quietly, stepping closer until you were only a few feet away from him. "But thatâs my choice. Not yours."
Loganâs eyes flickered with something unreadable as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his hand. For a moment, he didnât move, didnât pull away. He just stood there, torn between pushing you away again and pulling you close like he always wanted to.
"You deserve better," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. But this time, it didnât sound like an excuse. It sounded like a confession.
"Maybe," you agreed softly, your gaze steady as you looked up at him. "But I donât want better. I want you."
There it was. The truth, laid bare between you. Loganâs eyes softened, and for the briefest moment, you saw the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide. The man behind the claws, behind the pain.
He sighed, a deep, weary sound, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let his guard downâif only just a little.
"You donât know what youâre asking for," he said, his voice rough but quieter now. "Iâm not easy to love."
You smiled, stepping closer until you were inches apart. "Neither am I," you whispered, your hand finally wrapping around his, your touch warm against his skin. "But weâll figure it out. Together."
Logan looked down at where your hands were joined, his breath hitching slightly as though the simple gesture meant more to him than he could ever say.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of everythingâthe fear, the uncertainty, the painâhung in the air between you, but it didnât feel as suffocating now. It felt manageable. Like something you could handle as long as you faced it together.
Finally, Logan let out a long, ragged breath and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. His grip was strong, almost desperate, but you didnât mind. In fact, you clung to him just as tightly.
"Maybe youâre right," he murmured into your hair, his voice rough but sincere. "Maybe⌠maybe we can figure this out."
You smiled against his chest, your heart finally calming as the tension between you dissolved. "One step at a time," you whispered, resting your head against him. "Thatâs all Iâm asking for."
And in that moment, as Logan held you close, you knew that no matter how hard things got, no matter how many walls he tried to put up between you, you werenât going anywhere.
Because some things were worth fighting forâand you would never regret choosing Logan. Not for a second.
