Honey-fia - The Greywaren

I'm rereading trb right now and the whole blue and adam arc is going on. So in gansey's pov he's constantly being like "uhh why are they so close to each other" or " are they holding hands wth". And he quickly removes these thoughts from his head, cuz he doesn't want to seem negative or pessimistic. But was he jealous of blue stealing his cute best friend or adam flirting with a new hot girl?

Imagine ronan telling the most absurd dark jokes. His humor is so fucked up that it even makes Henry side eye him.

Imagine him telling the gangsey to go change their clothes cuz theyre eating out. And Blue goes like " hey atleast we're presentable dude, you're literally wearing a wifebeater." AND he goes,

"But I'm not wearing parrish's dad wdym"

And everyone's like "......"

Gansey and blue are just sweating, thinking that adam will snap.

And then adam just starts cackling. Like.

"Nice one bro" *wipes a tear*

They both appreciate each other's humor, is my conclusion.

Not saying you CAN'T hc any relationship you want as romantic or ship anyone you want, but sometimes I feel the oversexualisation of m/m friendships contributes towards the stereotype that men and boys can't/aren't supposed to show affection to their friends or express platonic love and that they are only capable of love in a sexual context. Like maybe we should talk about the power of friendship too sometimes.

We as a fandom don't explore the idea of the marauder's bullying Sirius for being French as much as we need to

Remus calling Sirius "Seren" is my favorite Remus of all the Remus' written

if you hc james as indian, halloween falls on the same day as diwali btw

imagine all the lights, laughter and love felt on the day, james is so happy to spend the day with people he loves.

people that care enough about him as a person to celebrate a holiday that has no special significance to them.

all for when his friends go home, for james to mistake the loud cracks of apparition outside of godric’s hollow for fireworks.

all for him to open his door, believing that sirius and remus just came back for more of his mother’s burfee

only for him to be faced with the killing curse, that, ironically enough, looks a lot like the green of the colored sparklers he had bought for harry to play with.

nobody plays a deranged closeted homosexual in love with his best friend quite like robert sean leonard

every year the met gala rolls around and every year i am violently reminded of how sirius black would eat up every single theme. like no crumbs left. fully booked. walked the carpet and shut it down.

but THIS year?? with this theme?? androgynous sirius, ethereal, otherworldly, gender-defiant, draped in layers and lace and sharp tailoring and something feral behind the eyes?? he would have SERVED. like—no. you don’t understand. BEST DRESSED by a mile.

imagine it: sirius walking up those stairs in a tattered couture piece—something that looks like it was dug out of an ancient aristocratic crypt but is somehow still impossibly chic. a long, floor-grazing cape, heavy and regal, embroidered with silver thread that catches every flash. layered shoulder caps. sharp cheekbones dusted with silver shimmer. sheer black gloves. antique jewelry tangled like vines. velvet. lace. a corset, maybe. boots laced up. hair wild but purposeful. black nails. a veil, even??

anna wintour would’ve handed over the keys to the met. the met becomes his house now.

i’m genuinely at a loss for words. he would’ve embodied the theme so perfectly it would hurt. everyone else? attending. sirius black? ascending.

But amidst the gowns and glam, remember: palestine is bleeding. speak up.

clingy