Le baiser du printemps —in the style of Alphonse Mucha

rwrb fic: here is a map (with your name for a capital)

amazing banner made by @impossibletruths

Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor

Summary: That day at the Rio de Janeiro Olympics, Alex comes across the very same Prince Henry who just dismissed him having a panic attack in a bathroom. The choice Alex makes then has ripple effects neither of them could have ever expected. What's the story like, when they actually are friends all along?

Read on Ao3 HERE

“So, you’re going back to England tonight, and you’ll spend the next three days pretending you two are the closest and best of friends until we can put this mess behind us.” And there are reasons he hasn’t told anybody this, good reasons, even though he’s sure June and Nora saw through him ages ago. Faced with his mom’s disappointment, though, and with the realization that the entire world apparently thinks he hates Henry and would willingly shove him into a fucking cake, he can’t stay quiet. “But we are friends,” he says, vehement and serious. “We have been for years. He’s—he’s probably my best friend, actually, along with Nora.”

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die. I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you || for @roseapothecary

alex "what" claremont-diaz

heavy is the head that wears the crown... based on robert mapplethorpe's "two men dancing"

The Tea Shop on Verbena Street || by stutteringpeach

Rated: M Chapters: 10/10

What the fuck is Alex going to do? He can’t call Nora. What the fuck will he say? Hey, the guy—yes, guy—I’m in love with is a witch and his sister murdered his ex-boyfriend with a stapler? He can’t call June—she’s over halfway through her pregnancy and he’s fairly certain something like this might send her into early labour. The only person he wants to talk to about this is Henry. But he can’t. For the first time in a while, Alex realises how completely alone he is.

Now complete and safe to binge!

One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten

There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me

six (and a few) sentence sunday :) <3

hello :) thank you for the tag @kiwiana-writes!!

here's a bit more of the proposal au currently titled "the full spectrum of human emotion" <3 this was again written blurry eyed at a terrible hour so please forgive any errors xoxo.

With every touch, every anecdote, every shared moment, Alex gives Henry yet another piece of the Alex Claremont-Diaz mosaic. He can, against his flimsy fucking will, sense little pieces of his heart fastening themselves to Henry, parts of Alex he keeps hidden away from him, from the cold walls of his office in New York City. Fragments of him drenched in the Texas sun, soaked in a Shiner, floating in an Austin lake, laughing around an open fire with his family he left behind. He remembers telling Henry to give himself away sometimes, to share more, to place more of himself in Alex's outstretched, greedy hands. That's the only way their harebrained scheme can work, after all—equal footing, equal ground. But Alex knows, deep down, that this will never be an equal relationship. Henry is his boss desperately dangling a legally binding carrot, and Alex is his assistant biting said carrot to avoid goddamn jail time. No way in hell this ends in anything but a divorce, a broken heart, a letter of resignation, and a career change.

sorry if i missed any posts already due to timezone and dashboard fuckery! but no pressure tagging @ninzied @inexplicablymine @anincompletelist @myheartalivewrites @suseagull04 @priincebutt @sparklepocalypse @kiwiana-writes @onward--upward @nocoastposts @user-anakin @wordsofhoneydew @littlemisskittentoes @happiness-of-the-pursuit @matherines @lizzie-bennetdarcy @celeritas2997 @sherryvalli @gayrootvegetable @ssmtskw @affectionatelyrs @tinyarmedtrex @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @14carrotghoul @orchidscript @rmd-writes @dustratcentral @eusuntgratie @magicandarchery and open tag to anyone else (i want to seeeeee) xoxoxo <3

also, extremely random but my real nickname i go by is roop, so I've erased any remnants of "ruth" on the blog ashfkljaslf sorry for the confusion folks. ruth is my coffee name. only baristas call me ruth. y'all can call me roop :) xoxo thanks for reading

henry, learning to breathe again

all so human with our guards down — part one

This story takes place in the apocalypse. This is not a story about survival. This is a story about rebuilding. The world ended three years ago. No more all-night study sessions, no more drag brunch and mimosas, no more societal expectations. But out of everything Alex was expecting from an apocalypse, Henry sure as hell wasn't one of them.

Thank you for the tag, @kiwiana-writes!

Back in September, @b13-maybethistime suggested a canon divergence based on a certain episode of a certain wee-woo show that I don't even watch anymore... but something about it spoke to me. It promptly got a playlist, but I got distracted by trying to finish my The Magicians AU. Out of nowhere, it started writing itself in my head at 2am this morning and I wrote the following in my Notes app:

The news of Alex’s accident is delivered to Henry through a muted television.  By this point, his ex smiling at him through the static of passing screens isn’t unusual. It hasn’t gotten any less painful, of course — the longing to return to the lake house only claws the chasm in his chest open wider, in fact — but he’s gotten used to the sensation. He’s entirely prepared to tell [whoever] to change the channel to literally anything else, but the words across the bottom of the screen have him blurting a request that the volume be raised instead. “FSOTUS IN CRITICAL CONDITION” glares at him from the bottom of the screen, above a no-less-alarming sub-headline: “Alex Claremont-Diaz among three rushed to the hospital following accident on private airstrip.” The anchor describes the incident in such detail that it nearly makes Henry wish he’d left the report muted. Photos and short video clips flood the screen as she speaks, showing security camera footage, cell phone shots from onlookers, and professional photographs taken of the aftermath — apparently, a jet skidding across the runway into a vehicle makes quite the mess. Knowing that Alex was somewhere in that black SUV as it bent into a truly horrifying shape turns Henry’s stomach. When he looks to Shaan across the room, he’s already tapping away at his tablet. “I can get you there by half-past four.”

Tagging: @stereopticons, @this-is-bwr, @lilythesilly, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @maxbegone, and whoever else wants to play! Please tag me if you do!

"do you love him?" I love both of them tbh. A sandwich in between please. anyway this took me quite some time to draw but they were so pretty that I couldn't resist. follow me on twitter, IG and Patreon for more

All this time I never learned to read your mind

The Red Room

5 days of work, finished this today with a fever yay. If you excuse me now, I think I'm gonna pass out.

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Gun to my head, I could not tell you what color Henry's shirt is in this scene

I would watch hours of just this.

annoyed (fondly)