#Rich James

[elysian-writing]

one word prompt challenge!! 'money' 

"James?" 

"Yes, love?" James replied, leaning across the counter.  His hazel eyes glinted mischievously, even as an innocent smile stretched across his face. 

Regulus sighed, setting a large pile of books on the counter. "Mind explaining?" The books blocked James' view of Regulus, so he moved it aside, careful not to let the tower topple over. James supposed he could explain. Yet, noticing the tired and exasperated look on his boyfriend's face, he decided that it might not be the best idea. 

"Well," He started, dragging the end of the word so that it hung in the air. "They're your birthday presents!" He eventually cheered, grinning at Regulus. They were not, in fact, Regulus's birthday presents. Regulus's birthday was in December, and currently? It was still hot, sunny, July. 

Regulus's grey eyes narrowed dangerously, "Oh, really?" He challenged, "Want to try again?" 

"They really are your-" James started, before faltering at the look on Regulus's face. "Alright, fine. They're just regular gifts for you. Like any boyfriend would do for their lover!" 

Regulus sighed once more, "How many times have I told you, I don't need you to do this? I might not be a part of the Black family anymore, but I can still support myself! If there's anything I need, I can get it myself, James." His lips dipped into a frown, an almost hurt expression in his eyes. 

Now it was James's turn to sigh. Yes, Regulus might've been able to support himself, but that was still a big difference between supporting, and being able to spend freely. Had he still been a part of his family, money would've been no problem. Yet now, James knew he was barely managing to pay rent, but Regulus's pride refused to let him ask for help. So, James knew, Regulus hadn't been getting himself anything but the essentials for the past three months. 

"Look, love. I'm not trying to say you're struggling," James paused, trying to figure out the best way to phrase the next few words, without having an angry boyfriend for the rest of the night. "I just want to spoil you a little, okay? Let me do that for you?" He pleaded, turning puppy eyes on his lover. 

Regulus's frown lessened slightly, a reluctant smile crossing his face. 

James stayed silent, already knowing he had won this battle. 

But not the war. 

He would take the small victories though, and perhaps one day, he would be able to persuade Regulus that asking for help was completely okay. For now, he would stick to spoiling his boyfriend just a little. 

[jimmyspades]

BOSTON LEGAL 2.10 “Legal Deficits”

[maxdibert]

If James bullied Severus because the latter knew a lot or liked dark magic, then why didn’t he also target the wealthy pure-bloods from important families? Instead, he conveniently chose a poor half-blood boy with no financial resources or family support as the main target of his taunts and abuse.

James hated dark magic, but rather than torment all the future dark wizards who were already showing signs of what they would become, he decided to go after someone who couldn’t defend himself socially or economically. James didn’t go after the boys with money and strong family support because he knew that would have consequences. Bullying someone with present, well-resourced, and influential parents could cause him problems. With Severus, he didn’t have to worry. He was a nobody. Just a poor half-Muggle kid who couldn’t even afford decent clothes. He was the easy prey, and that’s basic bully behavior: you go after the person you perceive as the most vulnerable. The dark magic excuse is just that—an excuse. James targeted Severus because his social and economic position allowed it, while Severus’ situation made it so there were no consequences for James’ actions.

[ultravioletbrit]

“vintage” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 253 words

 

Regulus is standing with James in their garage looking at what is probably the saddest excuse for a car Regulus has ever seen.

“It’s old.” Regulus says.

“It’s vintage.” James counters.

“It’s ugly.” Regulus is walking around the car.

“It’s… okay, yes, it is ugly. But it won’t be when I’m done with it.” Regulus walks towards James with a skeptical look.

“I promise, it’ll be beautiful. You’ll see.” James tells him. “Please, can I keep it?” James pouts.

Regulus smiles fondly at James and wraps his arms around his waist.

“Jamie, you don’t need my permission to keep it. But I don’t understand why you don’t just want to buy a new car. You know, one that actually runs?” Regulus asks him.

“Restoring it, rebuilding it, is the whole point. It’s not just about the car, it’s about the process.” James has a glimmer in his eyes that makes him look absolutely beautiful.

“The process?” Regulus says, amused and endeared by how excited James is.

“Yes! It’ll be fun. Doesn’t it sound fun?” James runs his hand over the hood of the car and his finger tips turn black from the dust and dirt.

“It sounds dirty.” Regulus tells him.

“You don’t want to help?” James teasingly wiggles his fingers towards Regulus.

“I’ll watch.” Regulus grabs James’ wrist to avoid the dirt but uses his hold on him to pull James in for a kiss.

And Regulus quickly realizes that watching a sweaty, greasy, dirty James is, indeed, a lot of fun.

[retrogamingblog2]

[flopianasupreme]

the specific lighting on each cover is something so special to me

[deliciousangelfestival]

Luxury and Lessons - Bucky Barnes

Character: concierge!Bucky x heiress!female reader

Warning: A lot of curse words.

Summary: A spoiled heiress is sent to work at her family’s luxury hotel, where she clashes with Bucky, the handsome and strict manager who is fiercely dedicated to the hotel’s success.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 ,-

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Birds chirped softly in the background, their melodies blending with the gentle rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. The sun shone brightly over the Serene Sanctuary Resort, casting dappled shadows on the vibrant array of flowers lining the walkways.

Their petals swayed lightly, adding a touch of color to the already picturesque surroundings. In the distance, a crisp thwack sounded as someone struck a tennis ball, the rhythm of play harmonizing with the resort's tranquil atmosphere.

Serene Sanctuary Resort was known among high-budget travelers as a luxurious escape, a place where every detail was meticulously curated for comfort and elegance.

At the heart of this paradise stood a man adjusting his suit with precise movements. The suit, clearly tailored to perfection, hugged his frame with a classic elegance that spoke of both sophistication and tradition.

His name was James Barnes, but everyone called him Bucky. His badge gleamed on his chest, catching the light just so, perfectly straight and centered.

Bucky was known for his exacting standards. His office was a testament to his need for order—each object had its place, not a single pen out of line. Even the slightest tilt in a flower vase did not escape his notice, and he promptly adjusted it with a practiced hand, ensuring that everything was just as it should be.

His colleagues respected his attention to detail and the unwavering precision he brought to his role as hotel manager. For everyone who worked there, James "Bucky" Barnes was a familiar presence, the very essence of the resort's commitment to excellence.

Bucky Barnes had a polished appearance that perfectly matched the elegance of the Serene Sanctuary Resort. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his sharp blue eyes scanned his surroundings with a practiced gaze that missed nothing.

His suit, tailored to fit him like a second skin, spoke of classic sophistication, and his polished shoes reflected the light as he moved with a quiet confidence. He wore the hotel's badge with pride, a small but gleaming symbol of his dedication.

To him, the resort was more than a job; it was a labor of love. He took pride in its reputation and in every guest who walked through its doors.

Bucky walked through the lobby of the Serene Sanctuary Resort with a calm confidence that immediately put people at ease. His polished appearance and the way he carried himself radiated professionalism and warmth, making him the perfect face for the hotel.

As he approached the front desk, a couple waved enthusiastically. “Mr. Barnes! Good to see you again!” the woman called out, her face lighting up at the sight of him.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson! Welcome back,” Bucky replied with a genuine smile. “How was your flight?”

“Smooth, thanks to your tip about avoiding the morning rush,” Mr. Thompson said, clearly grateful.

“I’m glad to hear it. We’ve got your favorite suite ready, and I’ve made sure the minibar is stocked with that Pinot Noir you love,” Bucky added with a wink.

The Thompsons beamed. “You always remember the little things, don’t you?” Mrs. Thompson said warmly.

“It’s my job to make sure your stay is perfect,” Bucky replied, his tone sincere. “Anything you need, just let me know.”

As he moved toward another guest, an older gentleman patted him on the shoulder. “Bucky! Good to see you, son. My usual room, I hope?”

Bucky nodded, a respectful smile on his face. “Of course, Mr. Martin. I’ve already sent up fresh flowers, just like you prefer.”

“You’re the best, Bucky,” Mr. Martin said with a chuckle. “Honestly, I come back to this place mostly because of you.”

Bucky laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling. “You’re too kind, Mr. Martin. But I’m happy to hear that. Your loyalty means a lot to us.”

As he continued to make his rounds, more guests greeted him by name, exchanging warm smiles and friendly banter. It was clear that Bucky had a unique ability to make every guest feel special, as if they were the only ones staying at the resort.

And in return, the guests adored him, many coming back year after year just to be welcomed by his familiar, reassuring presence.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over Bucky. He turned to see Steve Rogers, the hotel’s head of guest relations, standing with a serious expression. Steve was usually calm and composed, so the worry etched on his face instantly caught Bucky’s attention.

"I've got bad news," Steve said, his voice low.

“What is it?” Bucky asked, his brow furrowing.

"You've got to see this first," Steve replied, pulling out his phone and handing it to Bucky.

On the screen was a video of a woman, clearly intoxicated, slurring her words as she stumbled through a crowded party. "Whose gonna pay for all this?" a voice in the background asked, laughing.

The heiress grins broadly, waving her glass in the air. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” she says with a dismissive laugh. “I’ll just cut my employees' salaries to cover the cost! Let them eat cake, right?”

The group bursts into laughter, clearly finding the comment hilarious. The camera zooms in on the heiress, who’s now giggling uncontrollably, oblivious to the implications of what she just said.

“Yeah, yeah!” another friend chimes in, mockingly raising a toast. “To the hard-working folks who don’t get a break!”

The heiress rolls her eyes dramatically and raises her glass. “To the workers! May they always work hard… for me!” She bursts out laughing again, almost spilling her drink as she does.

The video cuts off abruptly, but not before capturing a few more drunken cheers and clinking glasses, leaving a bitter taste in the viewer’s mouth.

Bucky’s face tightened with anger as he scrolled through the video. “Little narcissist who puts herself above everyone else,” he muttered under his breath. He continued scrolling down, reading through the online comments:

"This is outrageous. The rich really don’t know what it’s like for us working-class people."

"How can someone be so out of touch? Does she think this is funny?"

"As someone who works at a hotel, this is infuriating. We work hard every day to make these places run smoothly, and this is the thanks we get? A pay cut to fund her parties? Unbelievable."

"Maybe if she spent a day in our shoes, she���d think twice before making fun of us. The ignorance is mind-blowing."

“She’s the sister of the hotel owner, right?” Bucky asked, looking up from the phone.

“Right,” Steve confirmed. “And she’s coming here.”

“Hiding?” Bucky guessed, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing.

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head, his expression turning even graver.

“Then what?”

🏨🏨🏨🏨🏨

The room was dark, the curtains drawn tightly to block out any hint of daylight. The air was thick with the stale scent of alcohol and the aftermath of a wild night.

Suddenly, the room was flooded with blinding light as someone forcefully yanked the curtains open. Sunlight poured in, stabbing through the darkness and landing squarely on the figure sprawled across the bed. The clock on the nightstand showed 11 a.m., but the person under the covers showed no signs of stirring.

"Wake up!" barked a voice filled with anger. It was Tom, head of Serene, the global luxury hotel chain. He stood by the window, glaring down at his sister, who was still buried under a pile of blankets.

You groaned, pulling the covers over your head to shield your eyes from the blinding light. "Leave me alone," you muttered, still drunk from the party last night, and slapped Tom’s hand away as he tried to pull the blanket off.

Tom's face twisted with frustration. "I'm going to fucking kill you with my own hands!" he snapped.

"What the hell are you so mad about?" you mumbled, slowly waking up, rubbing your eyes. "Did you forget to take your meds this morning?"

Tom's patience snapped. "Take out your damn phone and see for yourself," he shouted.

You sat up reluctantly, grabbing your phone from the bedside table. Your eyes widened as you saw hundreds of missed calls and countless notifications mentioning you on Instagram.

"Are you out fucking of your mind?" Tom yelled, pacing back and forth, his hands clenched into fists. "I just met the investors last night, then talking with the union about employee salaries, and now this? You're dragging the company’s name through the mud!"

You squinted at the screen, reading the news headlines. Your stomach sank. "Shit," you muttered, slapping your forehead. You remembered last night’s party, the alcohol, the recklessness. "Fine, call the PR team and have them handle it."

"Already did," Tom snapped, his voice dripping with exasperation. "Were you completely out of it last night? Did the drugs and alcohol fry your brain?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at you with a mixture of disgust and disappointment. "And you stink," he added with a grimace.

Great. Your brother was really pissed. You could feel his anger radiating off him.

"This isn't just about me, or you, or our damn reputations," Tom continued, voice low but fierce. "You’ve jeopardized the whole company. If the royal family cancels their stay at our hotel because of this, that’s on you."

You rolled your eyes, still groggy. "Just drop it, okay? I made a mistake. Big deal. Everyone knows I'm a mess."

Since your parents died, Tom had taken over the Serene hotel business with remarkable responsibility. Meanwhile, you, the other heiress, had floundered. Used to a life of luxury and indulgence, you struggled with discipline and responsibility, leaving Tom to constantly clean up after you.

Your carefree attitude contrasted sharply with Tom’s dedication, and despite his best efforts to guide you, you remained the spoiled, irresponsible sibling who never quite lived up to the family legacy.

Tom sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as if carrying the weight of your actions. "I’m done letting you get away with this. You're going to own up to what you’ve done."

"Ugh, fine. What do you want me to do?" you muttered, annoyed.

“You’re going to work at the hotel,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “You need to understand what it’s like to work hard, just like our employees do.”

“No way. Absolutely fucking not,” you protested, panic rising in your chest. The thought of actually working at the hotel seemed unbearable. “You’re such an asshole, Tom!”

“It’s for your own good,” he said, his tone softening just a fraction.

Tom turned and walked out, leaving you to stare after him in disbelief.

"I’ll show you!" you shouted after him, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at the door as it closed behind him.

You slumped back against the pillows, feeling the headache and the consequences of your actions pounding in your skull. You were screwed. Big time.

✈️✈️✈️✈️

“This is not going to work,” you murmured under your breath, clicking your seat belt into place. You glanced over at Tom, who sat beside you, staring out the window of the private jet with a stern expression. He was serious about this—serious enough to send you to one of the hotels four hours away by plane.

“Just let it be. Or send me to the rehab. I’m the youngest, the irresponsible one,” you continued, your voice edged with frustration. “And you’re the oldest, Mr. Perfect, the responsible one that everyone looks up to.”

Tom sighed, turning to face you, his eyes sharp and unyielding. “Yes, as the oldest, it’s my duty. And I’m happy to do it. But you—you need to stop using that excuse. You have to change this narrative about yourself.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well, congratulations. You finally got what you wanted—to get rid of me.”

Tom's expression softened, just a little, as he leaned forward. “For the last time, I’ve never seen you as a burden. You’re my sister. I’m the only family you have who actually watches out for you.”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to get into another one of his lectures. “Don’t start with the family guilt trip. It’s a long flight, and I don’t need you giving me a headache.”

Tom ran a hand through his hair, clearly exhausted. The bags under his eyes were evidence enough that he hadn’t slept much, likely from dealing with the fallout of your latest screw-up. “Calm your tits,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “And try not to be a pain in the ass for once.”

You glanced over at him, noticing the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders slumped slightly from the weight of it all. “Whatever, Tom,” you muttered, looking away, but you could feel the sting of guilt creeping in. Maybe this time, you’d actually pushed too far.

🏨🏨🏨🏨🏨

After the long flight, you and Tom finally arrived at the resort. Stepping out of the car, you took a moment to take in the sight. The Serene Sanctuary Resort was nestled among lush greenery, with elegant architecture that blended seamlessly with the natural beauty of its surroundings.

The air was crisp, and the scent of fresh flowers mingled with the sea breeze. You had to admit, even though you’d never been to this particular resort before, it was one of the nicest you’d ever seen.

As you approached the entrance, Tom guided you toward a man waiting by the front doors. He was tall, with sharp blue eyes that seemed to notice everything, his suit impeccably tailored.

“Bucky, this is my sister,” Tom said, nodding toward you. “She’ll be staying here for a while, learning the ropes.”

Bucky extended a hand politely, his expression neutral but professional. “Welcome to Serene Sanctuary Resort.”

You looked at Tom, narrowing your eyes. “I’m gonna remember this, asshole,” you muttered under your breath.

Tom smirked, clearly enjoying himself. He gave you a mocking little wave before turning back to the car. “Play nice,” he said over his shoulder, then got in and drove away, leaving you standing there with Bucky.

Bucky, unfazed by the exchange, turned his attention back to you. “Let’s get started,” he said, leading you inside. “Tell me about your work experience.”

You shrugged. “I was a barista once.”

“For how long?” Bucky asked, his tone measured.

“A day,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

Bucky paused, giving you a look that was more evaluating than surprised. “Miss, I don’t want to be rude, but this hotel is more than just a business. It has stories, a witness to history. I need you to take this job seriously.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by his earnestness. “Seems like you really love this hotel.”

Bucky nodded, his expression softening for a moment. “I do. Who wouldn’t? I’m proud to wear this uniform.”

You rolled your eyes, getting impatient. “Alright, cut to the chase. How much do you want?” you asked, your tone brash.

Bucky didn’t flinch. His face remained calm but firm. “Forgive me for my frankness, miss,” he said, a hint of steel in his voice, “but you’re broke. Your brother has cut off your funds.”

You blinked, stunned for a moment. “What?”

Bucky nodded. “You’re here to work, not to buy your way out of this. So, let’s get to it.”

You gritted your teeth. Great. Now you're stuck with a workaholic.

Bucky led you down a hallway to your room, which was much smaller than you were used to. You couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose as you stepped inside. The space barely had enough room for a twin bed and a tiny closet. Your luggage towered awkwardly in the corner, looking out of place in such cramped quarters.

"Here we are," Bucky said, his tone matter-of-fact. He didn’t wait for your reaction, guiding you down another hallway to the locker room. “And here is your uniform.”

You looked at the plain white shirt and black skirt hanging in the locker, feeling a wave of disdain wash over you. “Why is it different from yours?” you asked, pointing to Bucky’s tailored suit.

“This?” Bucky gave a small, amused scoff. “You have to earn this uniform, prove yourself, and show loyalty.”

You rolled your eyes. “Great. So, what’s next?”

Bucky glanced at his watch. “Starting tomorrow, your shift begins at 5 a.m. sharp.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “5 a.m.?” you repeated, disbelief clear in your voice.

Bucky nodded, not fazed by your reaction. “Yes. And for your first task, you'll be cleaning the guest rooms on the third floor. Make sure everything is spotless. And then you’ll help the kitchen staff prepare breakfast.”

You stared at him in horror. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’ve never cleaned a day in my life! And breakfast prep? I didn’t sign up to be a maid.”

Bucky gave you a stern look. “This is a team effort. Everyone here plays a role in maintaining the hotel’s reputation. That includes you.”

You scratched your head in disbelief. “I’m going to sue you.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his expression unphased. “If you have the money.”

He continued calmly, “Ah, your brother told me he’ll give you back your credit card once you make it through working here for a month.”

You blinked, taken aback. “What?!”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the locker room.

Fuming, you yanked out your phone and dialed your brother. The moment he answered, you didn’t even give him a chance to speak. “Fuck Bucky, the concierge! Damn it, Tom! He gave me an impossible job! My nails will get ruined, and he put me in a tiny room that can’t even fit my bags!”

Tom’s voice came through the line, calm but firm. “You need to start from the bottom, just like everyone else.”

You could feel your blood boiling. “You have to fucking fire him! This is ridiculous!”

Tom sighed, clearly unimpressed with your tantrum. “No can do. He’s the best employee this hotel has ever had. He’s practically a legend around here.”

“Shut up!” you screamed, your frustration reaching its peak as you hung up on him.

Meanwhile, Tom was already on his way back to the jet, surprised by the abrupt end to the call. He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite everything.

His assistant, Jill, who had witnessed your outbursts a few times, looked at him with concern. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave her there? Alone?”

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. “She’ll be fine. Bucky’s there to keep an eye on her.”

Jill raised an eyebrow. “You really trust your sister with him?”

Tom nodded, his smile growing wider. “If Bucky could make a notorious dictator say that Serene Resort was the best hotel he’d ever stayed at,” he said, recalling the amusing headline from a few years back, “then taming my sister should be a piece of cake.”

Jill laughed softly. “Well, if anyone can handle her, it’s Bucky.”

Tom leaned back in his seat, relaxing a little. “Exactly. Besides, she could use a little discipline. And who knows? Maybe she’ll surprise us all.”

Author's Note: Hey everyone, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! I’m currently grappling with a writer’s block and have tried various methods to spark new ideas, but nothing seems to be working.

Any feedback or suggestions you have would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for your support!

❤️❤️❤️❤️

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[wolvesandshine]

AU where Sirius runs away from his famous family and lives his life as a normal guy TM and meets James. Fast forward a couple years and James hooks up with someone and is later forced to sign a non-disclosure agreement but both of them have feelings so they continue dating in secret. It’s not until James introduces him to Sirius that they realise that James has been hooking up with none other than Regulus Black and that he’d been best friends with the scandalous Sirius Black who had run away years ago.

[wafflinglumos]

Sirius and James were not the same type of rich, I see this a lot, and a lot of people think that it’s canon, which is just, incorrect. James came from new money, Sirius came from old money.

Fleamont Potter’s business heavily, HEAVILY contributed to James’ wealth, sure Harry by our terms and by wizard terms inherited a LOT, absolutely, but from what we know from canon it’s incomparable to the Blacks fortune, it’s like comparing Draco’s and Harry’s wealth at the start of the series, you can’t.

Another thing to add is that the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black has that name for a reason, now sure, just because they’re known doesn’t mean they’re rich but we can quite confidently say they were, if you wanted to argue for the Potters’ being wealthier, you could I guess say that at the time the Blacks were a declining old money family, but they were still incredibly, INCREDIBLY wealthy.

We don’t know for certain how rich they were, or if they were richer than the Malfoys but because of how money works, old money specifically, we can say that at some point in the last few centuries(pre 1980) that they were as rich, or even richer than the Malfoys, however they weren’t as rich as them when it reached the 80’s. We can also guess they had the same amount of money or one of them had more, because Narcissa married Lucius so theoretically, Narcissa would have to be on the same level as Lucius in terms of wealth and vice versa.

Another thing we can use to calculate their wealth is their past history with house elves, from what we know from Ronald Weasley in Chamber of Secrets, a wizard/witch has to be “rolling in dough” to have a house elf, we can then look at the wall of dead house elves heads that the family had, and can make assumptions from there.

So, with all this information, we don’t have an exact amount, but, we know that even if they weren’t as wealthy as we paint them they were still known, and their opinions were highly regarded by an astounding amount, but then again, they were still insanely rich, and in terms of wealth and fame, leagues above the Potters.

The Potters were extremely wealthy, but the Blacks were loaded.

Anyways that’s the end of my Ted talk.

[wisedelusionalmarshmallow]

Im soooo tired of seeing my baby (Peter Pettigrew) get ignored in fanon content :(((

He was one of the four marauders!!! EQUALLY IMPORTANT!!!!

sooooo many people ignore him because of what he did.

but back in the 70s? He was just my little guy

Young Peter baking at the Potters over Christmas break?? Sirius is constantly licking batter from the spoons. Remus is always trying to add a little more cinnamon and a dash more vanilla, I think these cookies could use some more chocolate chips you know? Effie sharing family recipes with him??

Young Peter who was the tallest in the group until 13~14 where everyone else shot up like bean poles? Peter stuck being the shortest from there on out. they all tease him about it but James crawls into his bed one night because hey wormy, I know we like to joke, but you aren't uncomfortable right? you sure this isn't bothering you? because I would feel horrible if it was.

Also James and Sirius were close, but Peter and James were close. like, James and Sirius would go everywhere and do everything with each other but those quiet nights? when James just needed someone to talk to or cry to? James would always crawl into Peter's bed and they would talk about everything until the sun peeked in through the curtains.

Young Peter who always recommends their parties are potlucks because all of his friends are such great cooks? (even if he spits out whatever Sirius is trying to convince them is cooked properly)

Young Peter who is great at lying and has saved the boys too many times to count. (Looking straight at James and Sirius 👀) like Remus would try to lie but the staff knew he was just as bad as the rest of them but Peter? The sweet one? The kind one? Nooooooo he would neeeeeever

anyone else got some headcanons? any ships? please my plants are dying

[the-posh-life]

[blanketp1ask]

SPLENDID✨❤‼️

Burning my brain for this au these days <3 Don't worry tho I still have some time to draw them ☺

And Also...

Thank U so much for 100+ Followers already!!

Damn I didn't expected to reach it so soon <3 You guys are my everything‼️ thank you for all of your supports from asia, europe and all around the world ❤🌌✨

[reality-detective]

Rules For Thee But Not For Me👇

King Charles just gave his royal assent to new UK laws that allow gene-edited foods to go unlabeled — despite having a personal, strictly organic food supply for himself.

Full Video 👇

James Corbett 🤔

[maxdibert]

‘Severus didn’t care if Lily’s husband was killed—he wasn’t worried about her; he just wanted to get the girl at all costs.’

Correction: Severus couldn’t care less if the rich brat who harassed, stalked, and tormented him for seven years of his life—a privileged, possessive jerk who couldn’t stand the idea of the girl he liked having a friend who didn’t fit his idea of ‘proper masculinity’ and who was an easy target because of his looks and social class—was killed. Because no victim is required to care about what happens to their abuser. Expecting Severus to have empathy for someone who reduced him to a ‘thing’ to take out his personal frustrations on is like asking a woman who was assaulted to feel sorry for her attacker. And for the record, Severus hadn’t spoken to Lily in six years; all he wanted was to make sure she wasn’t killed.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

Cameron Awkward-Rich THEORY OF MOTION (4): ANOTHER MIDDLE-CLASS BLACK KID TRIES TO NAME IT (via @sweatermuppet) // Wayne Koestenbaum "Figure;" My 1980s and Other Essays // Mary Lambert "Why I Slept With Makeup on for Five Years;" Shame Is an Ocean I Swim Across // Keaton St. James DYSPHORIA CREEK // Richard Siken "Birds Hover the Trampled Field;" War of the Foxes (via @newvision) // Greta Moran Slow First

[retrogamingblog2]