Lilmissfanficwriter - God Bless This App’s Genetics

Currently writing a parents!firstprince fic, which you can read here.

I asked on Chapter 3 of the fic, but I wanted to ask here, too.

I wanna know what are your baby names for Alex and Henry’s children.

Mine are:

Arthur Claremont-Diaz Fox (boy)

Eleanor Claremont-Diaz Fox (girl)

jonathanstills Happy Valentine’s Day ❤️

Lover x RWRB

Part 1: Cruel Summer

It's new, the shape of your body

It's blue, the feeling I've got, and it's ooh, whoa-oh

It's a cruel summer

It's cool, that's what I tell 'em

No rules in breakable heaven but ooh, whoa-oh

It’s a cruel summer with you

I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby comin' home from the bar

Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer, just to seal my fate

And I scream, "For whatever it's worth

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

please stop I’m already dead!!!! (X)

“Jesus Christ, it’s like they can see through your soul. Cornbread knows my sins, Henry. Cornbread knows what I have done, and he is here to make me atone.”

Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! 🦃

[id: a light pink userbox with a reddish pink border, and reddish pink text that reads “this user’s special interest are the spider-man films.” on the left is an image of the spider-man logo. /end id]

i am sorry I had to

waking up in someone else's bed au. double drabble. rated m.

He doesn’t know how he got here.

Well.

He knows what got him here. Namely, tequila.

Tequila, and that guy at the bar, eyes bright-ocean-blue, hair glowing gold despite the dingier-than-hell club lighting.

The guy’s— Henry’s— hands on Alex’s waist, hard against his backside as they danced.

As they danced, and then as they did other things.

In a sticky bathroom stall. In the back of an Uber to Henry’s place. Up against the front door before it even fully closed.

Alex cracks an eye open as the memories come.

He glances around, clocking the things that aren’t his:

This pillow. These sheets and this bed. That window with the dawning light, drilling straight into his head.

But the man slowly waking beside him, lips so-pretty-pink from last night—

Can he? Be his?

Even after all this time, Alex still hardly believes it.

“Morning, love.” Henry smiles. “How are we feeling?”

“Hungover,” Alex admits. “And like we had a one-night-stand. Weird.”

Henry raises an eyebrow. “You don’t recall your meltdown about the raging-hot man at the bar despite being reminded that I’m your boyfriend?”

“You’re what?” asks Alex, delighted, and Henry, sighing, leans in to silence him with a kiss.

I think often about this...

Peter and Parker Stuck in a Treehouse

Parker: Peter?

Peter: What?

Parker: Where’s the door hole?

Peter: It goes right there. See, I drew it with a magic marker.

Parker: You were supposed to cut it out with the power saw.

Peter: Dude, I’m gonna.

Parker: Oh, really?

Peter: Yes!

Parker: So, go get the power saw.

Peter: Okay, I will. (Walks directly into the wall) I see the problem.

Parker: OH, DO YA?!