bourgeois is a slur against rich people and it is wealth shaming
Not today Justin

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Andulka
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$LAYYYTER
AnasAbdin

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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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@malumlux
bourgeois is a slur against rich people and it is wealth shaming
When you want to know how things really work, study them when they’re coming apart.
William Gibson, Zero History
Friendship Aesthetic: Lucius Malfoy & Rodolphus Lestrange
Whether you're right, or whether you're wrong, I guess I know you fairly well. ( @rodolphxsheir )
Paint it black
1000 Picspams Challenge | #324 Wizarding Schools Girls and Boys Aesthetics | Slytherin Boys
“This we may state with certainty; any wizard who shows fondness for the society of Muggles is of low intelligence…” →Brutus Malfoy, Warlock at War on “Muggle-lovers” in 1675
sang froid [sahn-frwa]
(noun) French loanword,portraying a coolness of mind; calmness; composure:
literally: cold-blood; sang (blood) and froid (cold)
Synonyms:self-possession, poise, equanimity, self-control, nerve
of devilish plans | rod && lucius
rodolphus lestrange
The blond’s words quickly echoed through the massive empty halls and were forgotten, almost left unnoticed. Hazel eyes were pinned on the keys dangling freely in the air. Tools that gave two masterminds the required space, knowledge and privacy to weave plans atrocious for most students’ minds. To be the strategic figures in the ranks of the Knights, to be one thinking body ready to tackle down on problems and future conquers. Rodolphus nodded and observed as the metal piece flew back into Lucius’ fist, a gentle sigh leaving his lips.
“Sounds good enough.” His voice was coated with a shade of darkness rather than agreement, their mission and goals were dangerous, yet so sweet and rewarding. Black shoes clicked on stone, swiftness their second name. Not much was uttered between the two Knights, sweet chatter was for later. A question dwelled upon Rodolphus’ mind that ought to be discussed and he could not trust anyone else but the Malfoy heir. Observant eyes were on the look for any student out of place begging to be hexed or perhaps a teacher that must have been avoided.
The massive library doors were illuminated by the moon, dark brown turned glimmering, dark purple. “I am more than sure you know exactly what we will be discussing tonight.” Lucius and Rodolphus did not brush over details about the topics reserved for the restricted area only. It was a simple code for where and when they were supposed to meet, but the blond knew exactly what the Lestrange heir wanted, needed, demanded. It only proved how loyal Malfoy was to the Cause. “Am I correct?”
"Political evangelism." Corrupting the young. Orders on high from HIM, long fingers spread wide to cast out influence like some sinister fisherman's net. Discretion painted quiet gloss over specifics, drew soft curtain over particulars and details, though Lucius navigated the corridor with a distinct lack of concern at being happened upon. As always, he’s equipped himself for any encounter, what with Slughorn's seal of approval tucked into his fist and half a dozen lies in pocket. Preparation polished and glossy; Lucius in execution is always well oiled machine before all else.
The library doors groaned as they were unlocked, opened, echoing in that cavernous way intrinsic to a space typically filled with the buzz of bodies and thrum of life gone late night empty and silent. A few lamps burned low and unattended on the polished benches, but otherwise the place was hazy with shadows. Familiar territory. Lucius navigated the indigo darkness till they reached the partitioned off recess of the Restricted Section. An area full of the smell of old paper, beeswax and dust thick enough to line the lungs; crowded with books, their shriveled, wrinkled leather selves stacked against the shelves while older ones lay winking like jewels against velvet in glass cases.
One hand snagged a lantern and moved it to a writing desk tucked flush against the shelves, adjusting the wick till it burned low as embers. Enough illumination to work by; wand retrieved from pocket and three imperturbable charms cast on the bookcases flanking them. Listening ears seemed unlikely, but unnecessary precautions were preferable to the alternative. Lucius’ attention cycled back to Rodolphus, inevitable as compass needle to north, and he inclined his head in taciturn invitation.
bartemius crouch • outliers
The person next to him is drunkenly giggling. Barty, with increasing irksomeness, ignores them.
The situation as of current: he’s tolerating the proceedings, his composure hasn’t quite yet worn thin, and he also has little intention of waiting until it does. Fleetingly, he contemplates the fact that he has better things to be doing than, a) pretending to be drunk, or b) acting sober and having to take care of people.
Ultimately he decides to deposit his barely touched glass of firewhiskey on the side of a table, meandering away from the crowded space while subverting the attention of more adventurously drunk friends. It’s the lack of another option that finds him at the foot of the stairs, climbing his way up with some optimism for more civilized company at the top- or no company at all. More importantly he does not anticipate the book thrown at him- it collides with his shoulder before he react, there’s a brief moment of fumbling before he catches it.
Surveying the thing in his hands… “What is this?”
Indistinctly, Barty is aware of the unfiltered revulsion in his tone. On a whim he flips to the thirty-seventh page. No.
The book goes precariously on a banister- more desirable than leaving it on a carpeted step or throwing it away to bounce downstairs- and Barty pauses for long enough to see it doesn’t topple before he forgets about the whole thing and makes his way up to Lucius.
“Looking for anything in particular?” He stops next to the other, giving the shelf a passing glance.
"At this point? tolerability. My standards have lowered considerably from when I began my perusal." Attention not precisely given, incremental amounts doled out too small to be of service though Lucius' head does tip slightly with aural recognition even if his gaze doesn't make a similar trip. Hardly a greeting per se in the satisfactory sense, but tantamount to one if you were at all versed in the chapter and verse of Lucius' expressions.
His finger hooked in the spine of another tome and slide it free from it's place; dexterous one handed handling for the opening and cursory leafing through of a few stiff pages. A modicum of improvement if the way he lingers on it is any indication. Between one page's turn and the next he looked up at Barty, picked out the details with the laconic arch of an eyebrow and then he was back to the task obviously at hand, re-examining each title on well-worn leather, weighing each book in hand and studying it for whatever made it worth acquisition.
"You're looking clear eyed and unaffected by the proceedings." Proceedings was putting it mildly, of course. Circus would have summed up the entertainments rather neatly; decorations, food, fighting ( the noisy melange of anecdotes exchanged, jokes told, challenges issued, the rattle and hum of a dozen competitions on going from dice thrown to the isolated detonations of Exploding Snap ). Lucius is frowning, still, at his selection, nails absently drumming at the bottle he isn’t drinking anyway, plucking the swirls of red smoke and yellow fire like chords on some divine sitar. The whiskey is weak and cloudy and full of promise, but it gives a pleasant buzz all the same.
"Are you an anomaly re: drinking or just very good at holding your liquor?"
war of the foxes | richard siken
HEADCANON
Once, when he was younger, he got his hands on a muggle novel which seemed to him to be non-magical folk’s attempt to describe their idea of a perfect society. The catch? It was George Orwell’s 1984.
harry potter aesthetics: Pureblood Society
One day it’s bloody knees, chapped lips, and sore wrists. Then one day it’s tight skirts, hands, and backseats. And people tell you this is what growing up is. And you want to go back to the one day when it was sleeping in, cartoons, and pancakes. But now its one day and it’s all skin, and skin, and skin.
[x] [x]
M+
three of their favorite things that begin with M
Malfoy Manor. Music. Museums
S+
three of their favorite things that begin with S
Slytherin. Silver. Sarcasm