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beforevenice · 1 year
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Don’t take my advice. Or anyone’s advice. Trust yourself. For good or for bad, happy or unhappy, it’s your life, and what you do with it has always been entirely up to you.
// Nicholas Sparks
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thebeautyjoythings · 8 months
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fortheloveofvenice · 1 year
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Hidden corners of Venice ❤️
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thewasteland2 · 1 year
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Venice (Veneto). Farewell to Pellestrina. The vaporetto sails through the waters of the Venetian lagoon towards Chioggia and goodbye to Pellestrina. Photos from the motor ship: a) the vessel, probably pirate, flanks the vaporetto with clearly aggressive intentions... All hidden...; b) fortunately we are in sight of Chioggia; c) view of Sottomarina from the steamer. #view #sight #photos #intentions #vessel #water #sailing #farewell #venezia #venice #pellestrina #veneto #chioggia #lagoon #ship #pirate #intentions #hidden #travel #traveling #visiting #instatravel #travelling #tourism #instatraveling #travelgram #travelingram #massimopistis #sovVERSIvi #estremisti Information for the purchase of my new book "Extremists!": The book at a cost of 12.00 euros (120 pages), can be ordered in the bookstore (ISBN 978-88-591-5719-9 - Editore Aletti). https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp3KTMqNfG8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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cristalbeesnow · 27 days
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Stelle e ottone...Wonderful book!!!!
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misterdado · 3 months
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Hidden Venice
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immaculatasknight · 4 months
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Sinister connections
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grandplazakensington · 5 months
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fadingbluemoon · 2 years
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15.04.22 Sogni della Laguna. Pic by me
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breelandwalker · 1 year
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JSTOR Articles on the History of Witchcraft, Witch Trials, and Folk Magic Beliefs
This is a partial of of articles on these subjects that can be found in the JSTOR archives. This is not exhaustive - this is just the portion I've saved for my own studies (I've read and referenced about a third of them so far) and I encourage readers and researchers to do their own digging. I recommend the articles by Ronald Hutton, Owen Davies, Mary Beth Norton, Malcolm Gaskill, Michael D. Bailey, and Willem de Blecourt as a place to start.
If you don't have personal access to JSTOR, you may be able to access the archive through your local library, university, museum, or historical society.
Full text list of titles below the cut:
'Hatcht up in Villanie and Witchcraft': Historical, Fiction, and Fantastical Recuperations of the Witch Child, by Chloe Buckley
'I Would Have Eaten You Too': Werewolf Legends in the Flemish, Dutch and German Area, by Willem de Blecourt
'The Divels Special Instruments': Women and Witchcraft before the Great Witch-hunt, by Karen Jones and Michael Zell
'The Root is Hidden and the Material Uncertain': The Challenges of Prosecuting Witchcraft in Early Modern Venice, by Jonathan Seitz
'Your Wife Will Be Your Biggest Accuser': Reinforcing Codes of Manhood at New England Witch Trials, by Richard Godbeer
A Family Matter: The CAse of a Witch Family in an 18th-Century Volhynian Town, by Kateryna Dysa
A Note on the Survival of Popular Christian Magic, by Peter Rushton
A Note on the Witch-Familiar in Seventeenth Century England, by F.H. Amphlett Micklewright
African Ideas of Witchcraft, by E.G. Parrinder
Aprodisiacs, Charms, and Philtres, by Eleanor Long
Charmers and Charming in England and Wales from the Eighteenth to the Twentieth Century, by Owen Davies
Charming Witches: The 'Old Religion' and the Pendle Trial, by Diane Purkiss
Demonology and Medicine in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, by Sona Rosa Burstein
Denver Tries A Witch, by Margaret M. Oyler
Devil's Stones and Midnight Rites: Megaliths, Folklore, and Contemporary Pagan Witchcraft, by Ethan Doyle White
Edmund Jones and the Pwcca'r Trwyn, by Adam N. Coward
Essex County Witchcraft, by Mary Beth Norton
From Sorcery to Witchcraft: Clerical Conceptions of Magic in the Later Middle Ages, by Michael D. Bailey
German Witchcraft, by C. Grant Loomis
Getting of Elves: Healing, Witchcraft and Fairies in the Scottish Witchcraft Trials, by Alaric Hall
Ghost and Witch in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, by Gillian Bennett
Ghosts in Mirrors: Reflections of the Self, by Elizabeth Tucker
Healing Charms in Use in England and Wales 1700-1950, by Owen Davies
How Pagan Were Medieval English Peasants?, by Ronald Hutton
Invisible Men: The Historian and the Male Witch, by Lara Apps and Andrew Gow
Johannes Junius: Bamberg's Famous Male Witch, by Lara Apps and Andrew Gow
Knots and Knot Lore, by Cyrus L. Day
Learned Credulity in Gianfrancesco Pico's Strix, by Walter Stephens
Literally Unthinkable: Demonological Descriptions of Male Witches, by Lara Apps and Andrew Gow
Magical Beliefs and Practices in Old Bulgaria, by Louis Petroff
Maleficent Witchcraft in Britian since 1900, by Thomas Waters
Masculinity and Male Witches in Old and New England, 1593-1680, by E.J. Kent
Methodism, the Clergy, and the Popular Belief in Witchcraft and Magic, by Owen Davies
Modern Pagan Festivals: A Study in the Nature of Tradition, by Ronald Hutton
Monstrous Theories: Werewolves and the Abuse of History, by Willem de Blecourt
Neapolitan Witchcraft, by J.B. Andrews and James G. Frazer
New England's Other Witch-Hunt: The Hartford Witch-Hunt of the 1660s and Changing Patterns in Witchcraft Prosecution, by Walter Woodward
Newspapers and the Popular Belief in Witchcraft and Magic in the Modern Period, by Owen Davies
Occult Influence, Free Will, and Medical Authority in the Old Bailey, circa 1860-1910, by Karl Bell
Paganism and Polemic: The Debate over the Origins of Modern Pagan Witchcraft, by Ronald Hutton
Plants, Livestock Losses and Witchcraft Accusations in Tudor and Stuart England, by Sally Hickey
Polychronican: Witchcraft History and Children, interpreting England's Biggest Witch Trial, 1612, by Robert Poole
Publishing for the Masses: Early Modern English Witchcraft Pamphlets, by Carla Suhr
Rethinking with Demons: The Campaign against Superstition in Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe from a Cognitive Perspective, by Andrew Keitt
Seasonal Festivity in Late Medieval England, Some Further Reflections, by Ronald Hutton
Secondary Targets: Male Witches on Trial, by Lara Apps and Andrew Gow
Some Notes on Modern Somerset Witch-Lore, by R.L. Tongue
Some Notes on the History and Practice of Witchcraft in the Eastern Counties, by L.F. Newman
Some Seventeenth-Century Books of Magic, by K.M. Briggs
Stones and Spirits, by Jane P. Davidson and Christopher John Duffin
Superstitions, Magic, and Witchcraft, by Jeffrey R. Watt
The 1850s Prosecution of Gerasim Fedotov for Witchcraft, by Christine D. Worobec
The Catholic Salem: How the Devil Destroyed a Saint's Parish (Mattaincourt, 1627-31), by William Monter
The Celtic Tarot and the Secret Tradition: A Study in Modern Legend Making, by Juliette Wood
The Cult of Seely Wights in Scotland, by Julian Goodare
The Decline of Magic: Challenge and Response in Early Enlightenment England, by Michael Hunter
The Devil-Worshippers at the Prom: Rumor-Panic as Therapeutic Magic, by Bill Ellis
The Devil's Pact: Diabolic Writing and Oral Tradition, by Kimberly Ball
The Discovery of Witches: Matthew Hopkins' Defense of his Witch-hunting Methods, by Sheilagh Ilona O'Brien
The Disenchantment of Magic: Spells, Charms, and Superstition in Early European Witchcraft Literature, by Michael D. Bailey
The Epistemology of Sexual Trauma in Witches' Sabbaths, Satanic Ritual Abuse, and Alien Abduction Narratives, by Joseph Laycock
The European Witchcraft Debate and the Dutch Variant, by Marijke Gijswijt-Hofstra
The Flying Phallus and the Laughing Inquisitor: Penis Theft in the Malleus Maleficarum, by Moira Smith
The Framework for Scottish Witch-Hunting for the 1590s, by Julian Goodare
The Imposture of Witchcraft, by Rossell Hope Robbins
The Last Witch of England, by J.B. Kingsbury
The Late Lancashire Witches: The Girls Next Door, by Meg Pearson
The Malefic Unconscious: Gender, Genre, and History in Early Antebellum Witchcraft Narratives, by Lisa M. Vetere
The Mingling of Fairy and Witch Beliefs in Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century Scotland, by J.A. MacCulloch
The Nightmare Experience, Sleep Paralysis, and Witchcraft Accusations, by Owen Davies
The Pursuit of Reality: Recent Research into the History of Witchcraft, by Malcolm Gaskill
The Reception of Reginald Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft: Witchcraft, Magic, and Radical Religions, by S.F. Davies
The Role of Gender in Accusations of Witchcraft: The Case of Eastern Slovenia, by Mirjam Mencej
The Scottish Witchcraft Act, by Julian Goodare
The Werewolves of Livonia: Lycanthropy and Shape-Changing in Scholarly Texts, 1550-1720, by Stefan Donecker
The Wild Hunter and the Witches' Sabbath, by Ronald Hutton
The Winter Goddess: Percht, Holda, and Related Figures, by Lotta Motz
The Witch's Familiar and the Fairy in Early Modern England and Scotland, by Emma Wilby
The Witches of Canewdon, by Eric Maple
The Witches of Dengie, by Eric Maple
The Witches' Flying and the Spanish Inquisitors, or How to Explain Away the Impossible, by Gustav Henningsen
To Accommodate the Earthly Kingdom to Divine Will: Official and Nonconformist Definitions of Witchcraft in England, by Agustin Mendez
Unwitching: The Social and Magical Practice in Traditional European Communities, by Mirjam Mencej
Urbanization and the Decline of Witchcraft: An Examination of London, by Owen Davies
Weather, Prayer, and Magical Jugs, by Ralph Merrifield
Witchcraft and Evidence in Early Modern England, by Malcolm Gaskill
Witchcraft and Magic in the Elizabethan Drama by H.W. Herrington
Witchcraft and Magic in the Rochford Hundred, by Eric Maple
Witchcraft and Old Women in Early Modern Germany, by Alison Rowlands
Witchcraft and Sexual Knowledge in Early Modern England, by Julia M. Garrett
Witchcraft and Silence in Guillaume Cazaux's 'The Mass of Saint Secaire', by William G. Pooley
Witchcraft and the Early Modern Imagination, by Robin Briggs
Witchcraft and the Western Imagination by Lyndal Roper
Witchcraft Belief and Trals in Early Modern Ireland, by Andrew Sneddon
Witchcraft Deaths, by Mimi Clar
Witchcraft Fears and Psychosocial Factors in Disease, by Edward Bever
Witchcraft for Sale, by T.M. Pearce
Witchcraft in Denmark, by Gustav Henningsen
Witchcraft in Germany, by Taras Lukach
Witchcraft in Kilkenny, by T. Crofton Croker
Witchcraft in Anglo-American Colonies, by Mary Beth Norton
Witchcraft in the Central Balkans I: Characteristics of Witches, by T.P. Vukanovic
Witchcraft in the Central Balkans II: Protection Against Witches, by T.P. Vukanovic
Witchcraft Justice and Human Rights in Africa, Cases from Malawi, by Adam Ashforth
Witchcraft Magic and Spirits on the Border of Pennsylvania and West Virginia, by S.P. Bayard
Witchcraft Persecutions in the Post-Craze Era: The Case of Ann Izzard of Great Paxton, 1808, by Stephen A. Mitchell
Witchcraft Prosecutions and the Decline of Magic, by Edward Bever
Witchcraft, by Ray B. Browne
Witchcraft, Poison, Law, and Atlantic Slavery, by Diana Paton
Witchcraft, Politics, and Memory in Seventeeth-Century England, by Malcolm Gaskill
Witchcraft, Spirit Possession and Heresy, by Lucy Mair
Witchcraft, Women's Honour and Customary Law in Early Modern Wales, by Sally Parkin
Witches and Witchbusters, by Jacqueline Simpson
Witches, Cunning Folk, and Competition in Denmark, by Timothy R. Tangherlini
Witches' Herbs on Trial, by Michael Ostling
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beforevenice · 1 year
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The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people so full of doubts.
// Bertrand Russell
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thebeautyjoythings · 9 months
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ieatangstforbreakfast · 5 months
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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.
Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡
Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.
Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ this one’s kinda long, for some reason my episode made me more productive wtf
Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie
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Chapter 6: At Home
Warning ೃ⁀➷ Mentions of child labor(?), cursing, a fuck ton of flirting, a bit suggestive (THIS IS HOW I ACTED WHEN I WAS SIXTEEN😭😭), daddy issues.
FIC MASTERLIST
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Montrell casts his eyes beyond the limousine's window to the sight of the traffic, the nostalgic view of Manhattan flooding his sights. To those unfamiliar with the borough, Manhattan would seem plausibly sophisticated to the average man, but he thinks of it as somewhat more provincial compared to cities he's flown to. Whether it be Venice, Singapore, or Dubai.
It’s nice to be home, he thinks. He’s grown to miss it all after spending a few years in London. But what he certainly missed the most was the presence of his family, particularly the one sitting next to him with a restless knee.
"This little... Brat."
Five missed calls. Twenty unseen messages.
"Is there a problem?"
Antonne snaps his head. "Nothing. It's nothing at all." He announces way too quickly.
Montrell taps at his collar, tugging at the tightness of his tie. "You're looking very restless." His voice gravelly speaks, laced with exhaustion from his eight-hour flight from good ol' London to New York. "I just got back home, now you're making me nervous."
Antonne doesn't reply, his attention still glued onto the flat of his screen. He alternatively switches between texting and calling, feverishly anxious. "It's nothing. Don't mind it."
Montrell parts his lips to reply, but instead silently agrees to drop the topic.
"... I trust everyone’s been well?" He piqued. "Seeing the news I've been receiving from the press, and my classmates, I'd reckoned you'd have improved since the last... Predicament."
“Predicament?”
“Would you rather I word it any other way?”
Antonne grimaces at the fine way Montrell speaks— his sophisticated accent bleeding into his every word.
"I have improved." He states, a little too condescendingly. "Wouldn't you have known that by now?"
"Well," Montrell sits up straight. "None of the problems you cause particularly strike me as interesting. However, I do have one particular concern. Have you been taking care of [Y/n]?"
At the mention of you, Antonne tenses up distastefully. "I've been taking care of her too much." He grits. "She's very, and I mean very, hard-headed."
Speaking of taking care of you, Antonne's been calling and texting your number for the last hour, thinking you'd still be up at this time. Seeing as how you weren't, you were probably fast asleep.
Oh, if only he knew.
"Well, we all share that trait now, don't we?" Montrell teases. "Stubbornness, hard-headedness. In the end, we all chalk it up to ambition. She’s sixteen, after all. Time passes by too fast." He bemoans. "I ought to take her to Shanghai after the fundraising event, little bonding or so."
"You do know that after the fund-raiser, people are going to lure her out of the manor for publicity?"
"Precisely." Montrell rolls the window open, placing a cigarette between his teeth. "But you and I both know how stubborn [Y/n] is. Do you really think anyone can force her out of her comfort zone?"
Antonne straightened his lips. "If she doesn't want to be cast away by society, she would have to try, or she’ll vanish off the map.”
Speaking of vanishing, where were you?
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The rules of high society were simple.
Appear neat, be mindful of how you present yourself, and always, always take mind in how you act.
For the longest time, you followed these rules as though they were your variant of the ten commandments. Your mother ensured you a place in New York’s elite for your sake, or so she says. Since then, you crafted your whole image from people’s expectations of you.
By the time you were eight, you constantly switched between masks and personalities— that were all titled separately according to every event.
The beloved golden child; the mature older sister with her head leveled well, ; the bitchy conglomerate heiress with her head in the clouds; and your current, and notably hardest, façade; the obedient daughter who knows when to shut the fuck up.
A talent Antonne didn’t have, unfortunately.
Now, you had another title to hold onto.
“Are you sure your mother isn’t in there?”
You shift uncomfortably, arms crossed before your chest.
“She’s working the night shift tonight.” Miles reasoned, fishing the keys out of his pocket. “It’s not like you’re going to sleep here anyways— plus, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home like that?” He gestures over to your clothes that were soaked in dirt and rain.
Seven days ago, you swore neatness over any speck of dirt.
Yet here you are, some little girl who stole her brother’s bike, rode all the way down to Brooklyn in the rain, and kissed a boy out in the street.
You didn’t want to meet Miles’ mother like this. You wanted to present yourself the way most mothers would expect of their sons’ girlfriends— polite, proper, and of course, neat.
At that moment, you were just some wet nobody who came out of nowhere, wearing your brother’s stolen hoodie, stolen pants, and stolen shirt. Perhaps the shoes were stolen too.
“Gentleman my ass.” You mumbled, shivering like a sinner at church. You hear Miles deridingly snicker.
“I’ve always been a gentleman to you, you’re just oblivious as fuck.”
“I grew up with polite people. Politeness is my normalcy.”
“Don’t seem like it.”
You click your tongue.
Miles laughs at the way you glare. He’s grown way too used to seeing you like this. “M’just kidding, ma, don’t get all riled up, goddamn.” He simpered. “I guess I just have to out-gentleman the men in yo life, huh.”
“You can try, but that’d be kinda difficult.”
The door to his apartment then creaks open, a dark hall that smelled like citrus and florals awaited before you. Miles steps aside, gesturing you to go inside first. As you do, the warm air greets you like a welcome, the tension in your shoulders finally releasing. You mindfully looked down, checking to see if you were staining the floors.
Miles then slips his shoes off, making you follow suit.
“I’m gonna go get’chu a towel before you start spraying your bubonic plague germs all over my crib.”
“The bubonic plague’s a dead virus, dumbass.”
“It will be, when you die from hypothermia.”
“I fucking hate you— so much.” You breathily squeezed with clackering teeth. Miles only laughs, heading off to fetch the towel. As his fingers flick the lights open, you’re welcomed to the sight of this cozy home. You marveled, like a child first visiting Disney World, at the small picture frames hanging from the walls. There, you could see images of little Miles– with his hair unbraided and eyes a little brighter. There was one of him with his front teeth knocked out, still smiling as wide as ever while holding a puppy in his arms.
Hung jackets, mismatched cabinets, and walls with chipped wallpaper.
It was.. A foreign sight to you.
Somehow, this tiny apartment seemed much homelier than your own.
“Here ya go.” Miles approaches you with the towel in his hand. Though you try to reach out for it, Miles maneuvers it past your grasps and instead pats it over your head, humming a tune to himself. You look up, admiring the way he meticulously takes care of you, cautiously ruffling your hair as though every strand were pure gold. And when he notices you staring, he puts the towel over your face.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not even doing anything.” Your voice muffles, trying to pry his hands away. When he does take the towel off, he’s bent down to your level, face inches away from yours and smirking in a way that irked you. He then places both his covered hands over your cheeks, squeezing lightly.
“You look like a goldfish.” Miles piqued with a toothy grin. “Thas craaazy.”
You furrow your brows. “Fwook owff.”
“Fwook owff indeed.” He mocks of your voice before releasing you. “Now, you gon’ go inside or what?”
You move your head a bit, eyeing the apartment behind him. “You sure your mama ain’t there?”
“If my mama was here, she woulda whooped my damn ass for bringing a girl home.”
“… So she ain’t home?”
Miles stared at you. “…. Do I look like I’m getting my ass beat r’now?”
“… No.”
“… Exactly.”
Hesitantly, you stepped into the apartment, holding the towel close. You can see the kitchen drawing near, a few unwashed glasses in the sink, family pictures on the fridge, and lace tablecloth above the mahogany. There were tiny plants on the shelves, scattered books and chargers, and undone laundry in the baskets. It was the kind of home your mother used to mock— the kind of living she spoke so ill about, a glimpse of her past.
Strangely, you adored everything about it.
“Sorry bout the mess.” Miles sighed. “I was gonna clean up tonight— but I brought you here.”
“No— no,” You sigh, gaze still skimming around in amazement. “Your place is.. Absolutely lovely.”
A slip of an accent. Something sort of posh. Miles notices it, but he pretends not to.
“My mom’s the one who designed most of it— I just let her do what she wants since I ain’t really much of an interior designer.” He kicks a few trinkets away from his path, making way for you.
“I love her tastes.” A genuine compliment, not the falsified ones you half-heartedly gave out to the elite. “Can you, uh, tour me more?”
Miles looks around, also somewhat lost. He slips his hands out his pockets, randomly pointing at places while not uttering a word. You follow where his finger leads, expecting an explanation, but all you get was a gaping “uh…”
“What?”
“… Mujer, this is a two-bedroom apartment, I don’t really know what I can show you here.”
When he noticed the way you clutch the towel, he places his hand over the knob of his bedroom door.
“You still cold?” He suddenly asks. You shrug. “Sort of— my clothes are still kinda wet, but your apartment’s really warm.”
“If you want, you can borrow some of my clothes, and we can hang your clothes r’now so they can dry.”
“That,” You hesitate for a moment. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m probably gonna leave in an hour.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, ma.” He tugs on the end of your sleeve just to pull you in his bedroom, revealing a somewhat small but well-decorated room nonetheless. There were clipped drawings on the walls, framed pictures, posters, and a large trio of windows at the center. From there, you gasp and approach it immediately, sitting by the sill while staring at the rainy Brooklyn before you.
“What? This your first time seein windows?”
“.. I don’t usually keep the windows open like this— AH! MILES. MILES. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” You smack your hands up against your eyes.
Miles, who had taken off his jacket, stood before you dressed in a plain wife beater, his lean arms drenched in sweat and rain. You kept your hands over your eyes, swallowing immensely.
“Don’t be so damn dramatic, I’m still dressed.” He huffs.
“Miles, idunnoaboutyoubutthisisveryimproper.” You speak in between heaves.
He clicked his tongue. “Aight, aight. Hol on.”
And in a moment of silence, you hear subtle shifts. Ironically, you can’t help but part your fingers in an attempt to take a peek at him. When Miles looks your way, you swiftly turn around and hit your head against the window with a soft thud.
“Are you done yet?” You ask, rubbing your aching forehead.
You hear him draw closer.
Placing a hand above you, Miles corners you into the sill. You look at him with widened eyes, hands over your mouth just to seal the squeal threatening to burst out of your throat.
“You look like you ain’t ever seen a guy’s arms before, ma.”
“I've seen a lot of arms before, thanks." You defensively answered, watching him remain ever-so amused by your shyness. Seeing you flustered like this was a surprise even for Miles who'd grown too used to you being cocky most of the damn time. He didn't think you were the type to go red just by the sight of his biceps.
"I guess I'm just too fine as hell, huh?"
Miles mischievously bends down to your level, fingers tracing the line of your jaw. Like instinct, you look up with furrowed brows.
"Hasn’t anyone ever told you to be humble, hm?"
"Ain't nobody ever told me shit," He grins. "What I do know is that you've been calling me pretty boy for the last two months, talkin shit 'bout how much you like pretty people, now suddenly, after kissin' me n all that, you're not saying it anymore. Really, mami," He kneels down before you, looking up into your eyes.
"Ain’t I a pretty boy to you no more?"
Miles watches and watches. He wanted to test the limits of how flustered you could get, but instead, he finds your amusement scribbled all over your face. Like a switch, your arrogance finds its way back to you. The light of the streets gleamed behind you as he marveled at the shadows cascading over your pretty face, a few droplets escaping from your soaked strands and down to the nape of his neck.
Your lone finger traces the lower half of his lip, tapping in intervals. Miles tries to head in for a kiss, but you pull away, pulling the hoodie he's buried in his arms out for you to wear.
"Sit down, Miles."
Straightening his lips, he mumbled.
"Yes, ma’am."
He stands up, heading over to sit by your side. As he watched you slip on his hoodie, he couldn't help but wonder.
“… When am I gonna come over to your house?”
As your head pops out of the hood, your eyes widened after hearing the sudden question.
"My house?" You repeat.
"… Who else’s?”
It’s crossed your mind several times— bringing Miles over. You’ve thought of taking him in under the guise of a project, or claiming he’s some kid you tutor, but it wasn’t particularly your home that was the problem. It was that Miles didn’t know anything about the sort of life you’re living.
If he were to ever find out, his view of you would completely change.
And you didn’t want that.
Your hands begin to fumble with the edge of the jacket.
“… I don’t know if I could let you meet my parents.. Or let you in my house yet.”
“Why not?”
Your gaze narrows. “.. Just… Stuff.”
Your gaze travels to the sights of the silvery pavements beyond the glass windows, hands reaching out to pluck the dry skin off your lips. Seeing this, Miles reaches out for your hands, gently pulling you over to his side. You follow his guide, wrapping your hands over his waist and resting your head against his chest. Silently, he plays with the ends of your drenched hair, resting his chin above your head. Hearing the way his heart beats, your own comes to ease down to match his pace.
Despite the comfort you were in, you were still understandably stiff. You’ve never been like this before, and for a while, you begin to agree with the movies you’ve seen— suddenly, the space between his arms became your favorite place.
“.. Ma, I’m gonna be pretty honest with you. I’ve been really wanting to know what’s up with your family.” Miles mumbles against your hair. “.. And I know how hard it is to open up, but I really wanna understand you.”
“… You don’t have to do all that, Miles.”
“I want to.” He insists. “I want to understand every part of you.”
His fingers comb through the sea of your locks, his brown gaze drawn to the shifting of your feet. He feels your head sink down to the center of his abdomen, and now you’re lying on his lap with your head turned to the window.
“… Are you sure?” You query so subtly, like you’d break if he were to falter.
He agreeably hums, fiddling with the tip of your strands.
“But Ion want’chu to force yourself, y’know?” Miles mumbles. “You don’t have to tell me now.”
“No,” You intervene. “No, you’re right.” Your eyes flutter shut. “I’ve been keeping everything to myself for too long… It’s draining me.”
What was there to say? What would a rich girl like you have to stress about so much?
“… How do I even start it?”
Miles tugged on one of your strands gently. “Well.. What are your parents like?”
You turn your head to look up at him.
Your hands flinch, almost like they were shaking. Miles takes his own and intertwines it with yours, easing you entirely. A quivering breath exits your lips, lashes fanning down.
“My father isn’t really much of a father to me.” You begin. “… More like a boss? I believe. Yeah, that’s the right word to say it. My family owns a.. Business. Small business.”
Small business. A grand hotel that’s been running since the industrial revolution of Manhattan— passed down from generation to generation. Your family was its sole custodian, and unfortunately for you, you weren't in line to be the lady of the house.
"What kind of business?"
You bite your lower lip, trying to pull through with an appropriate answer. "It's like an—" Your brow twitches. "A sort of.. Event place and catering or something like that.. Yeah." You vaguely answer. "... Like an inn."
Inn. The last time someone ever used that word, Jesus was being nailed at the cross.
"So.. Your family is, like, what? Rich?"
Rich?
You swallow the lump in your throat, lowering your voice. "My family's... Capable. Not that rich, but we make do."
You can sense him picturing this average, suburban American household— the kind of folks who can send off their daughter to a private academy and afford business-class trips to different countries every three years. As his mouth hung agape, Miles eventually does nod to signal that he’s getting the gist of your story. ".. Okay? So what do you do there?"
"I'm in charge of the upkeep." You search for a less complicated explanation. "Basically, I'm the one keeping the whole building clean. I'm in charge of customer service, and tidying things up when shit goes down the drain. I make daily reports, and I keep track of.. My dad’s employees."
You were the family's hostess, the one in charge of overseeing high-profile events. Though you weren't of the best pedigree, your family was still impossibly wealthy, and your mother's good looks spared you and your brothers from looking plain, and that enough made you interesting to many suitors.
You handled the media, covered up minor scandals, and took charge of spreading rumors for your family's sake.
Your father claimed it was practice, for god knows what— you weren't even the inheritor of the damn place.
"That's one long ass way to say child labor." Miles couldn't help but laugh. "Is your dad one of those.. Capitalist businessmen kinda dudes? Like, the only language he speaks is money?"
He imagines this tall, roundish man donning an iron-pressed suit with a sharp red tie beneath his collar and a stick of burning tobacco between his yellow teeth. Miles pictures, drawing the image and character of your father, him counting dollars while yapping on about you slacking off.
"Oh, no." You scoff. "My dad doesn't care about money."
Money was your father's least concern. In fact, none of you within your household cared about money at all.
"The family business was passed down from.. My granddad to my dad, so what really matters to my dad is.. Preserving the family's reputation."
Now the caricature shifts, from a roundish businessman to a strict and tall Padre De Familia, with a slightly unbuttoned polo shirt and belted shorts— with crossed arms and a permanent arch in his dark brows.
"That sounds.. Honestly, yeah, I see that a lot on my mom's side." Miles grumbled. "My mom's had a few relatives who were really more concerned about how other people viewed them, instead of taking care of what was actually goin' on inside."
Fingers snapping in agreement, "That! That's exactly it." You gleam. "The thing is, my brother, who's actually set to inherit everything, kinda fucked up his job, and it almost ruined us for life."
"How much did he fuck up?"
"... He got scammed."
"Scammed?" You knew how absolutely stupid it must've sounded to Miles, seeing as how he was shaking his head.
"He got scammed off.." You try to think of a reasonable number. "Fifty thousand dollars."
Two million actually, but that would be too much money.
His face still drops. "Oh, shit."
Ironically, you didn’t know what the weight of money was like— so casually slipping out fifty thousand dollars as a loss somewhat made Miles confirm that you were indeed from money.
"And because of that, your father appointed you?"
"I appointed myself." You corrected of him. "I wanted oppurtunities. I wanted to have a path paved for me other than marriage."
"Marriage!?" He looked at you like you'd just opened up a third eye.
"... Well, I mean of course I'll have a career, but I wanted the hote— the-the inn, the catering business." You struggled to discuss. "Since I'm not inheriting it, I would have to pave a path of my own. And the thing is, if I don't start now, I have nothing to begin with when I'm older... If I don't become anything when I'm older, I have no point of living, really."
"... Is that the reason why you didn't wanna admit you like me?"
The straightforward way he asks it snatches you off like the blow of the wind.
"I’m only realizing right now how very career-driven you are, very afraid of failure. I’m starting to think that you probably thought that facing what you feel about me would ruin your future— so you wanted to convince yourself that we're just friends."
Miles' talent for reading you provoked your fear of vulnerability, but this time, you didn't cower.
"... Is it a bad thing?"
"What is?"
Your voice largens into a croak. "Is it a bad thing that I'm too career-driven?"
"…. There's nothing bad about wanting the best for your future. It's safe to say that everybody wants a good future, but," Miles shifts, resting a hand atop your own. "But what's also important is focusing on your present, because once you lose your present, your regret will have you living in the past."
Your eyes fan up to look at him. "... Where'd you get that one from? Philosophy class?"
"… It was from one of the Facebook memes my maw maw sent me when I was twelve."
You snickered. "How convenient.. Somehow, it’s making me think twice about inheriting the damn business.”
"Well.. Other than inheriting your family business, is there anything else you want to achieve in your life?"
"… I’ve always wanted to be a painter.”
You hear him hum.
“… And I want to live far, far away from this place.”
At that moment— a livid pain shoots through your mind.
In a flash, a hazy vision manifests before your eyes, one that glowered in dark, faded blue. A mask of red, black, and white appears before you, its big, white eyes outlined with red furrowing like a frown as it stares. The skies were dim and blue, showering you in the rain. You reach your fingers out to pull off the façade, but your arm grows weak, faltering down to the growing puddle beside you.
“[Y/n]?” Miles’ voice pulls you out of the vision.
“Huh?”
What the fuck was that?
Only then you realized you'd sat up, which was weird as you hardly felt it. You turn to look at Miles, a little confused with all that had just happened. "... I must be getting sleepy." You whispered, running your hand through your face. "I'm starting to hallucinate n shit."
“You can rest here for a bit.” He tucks a strand behind your ear. “I mean— mama’s coming home at 7am.”
You yawn and stretch your neck to the side. “… I have to come back before three hits. I still have class later."
At that moment, Miles admires the way the moonlight prances around your figure, illuminating you like a light.
"... Now that I'm looking at you like this, you look like my mama's favorite actress."
"Which one?" You query, deeming this as praise. Miles steps back a bit, folding his arms before his chest while trying to remember who it was. "I forgot her name, but she was in that movie 'bout that whole Valencia thing. Mama used to watch it all the time. I think she's still got the poster."
"Valencia? The city in Spain?"
"Yeah." Miles fishes out his phone from the pocket of his pants. ".. What was it? Love in Valencia or sum like that."
Oh no.
"Oh, it's Love, Valencia." Scrolling through his screen, Miles spots the actress in the list of cast members and gasps. "Oh, here she is!"
Placing the phone next to your face, Miles is stunned by the comparison— finding similarities in almost every detail. You feel your breath clog your throat, eyes wavering as you turn to look at his screen.
Lo and behold, it was your mother.
Everyone told you and told you, over and over, that you were the spitting image of your mother. You never heard the end of it. You had her pretty face, her beautiful hair, her skin, and this sort of dark charisma she weaponized and abused— a talent you also endowed, but chose not to use.
"Yeah, I get that a lot." You grumbled lowly. "It's kind of fucking annoying."
"Oh," He takes his phone away. "Sorry, then."
Seeing as how quick he was to apologize, you immediately interjected. "No- no, it's annoying when people constantly tease me about it, but I like it as a compliment. I mean, she is pretty famous."
"But in a way, you're still you." Miles smiled. "You might look similar, but you're not her, and in the end, your own face is something completely different and that's what makes you even prettier."
Oh, that sounded so different to most of the compliments you got.
"… I like that. I really like that." You couldn't help but admit.
Shrugging his shoulders, Miles kneels down to pick your wet hoodie off the floor. "I'm gonna put this over the electric fan, and you can get it when it's dryer." As he stands up to leave, you instinctively follow him, fingers grasping the hem of his tank top. With the softest steps you had, you followed the boy to the kitchen.
Eventually, he placed your hoodie over the fan, soon finding your fingers clinging onto his shirt like some lost cat. He holds back a snicker, head traveling to look at you.
“What?”
You let go of him. “Nothin.”
“It don’t look like nothin.” He cocks his head, towering over you. “What is it?”
“… When’s our date?”
“Saturday. I’ll pick you up down the block at five.”
You thoughtlessly nod. “Okay,” You gulp. “Where to, though?”
With a hand over his lips, he hushes. “That’s a surprise.”
And yet even after asking your question, you find yourself following him almost everywhere he went. Miles mused at this, finally deciding to sit by the couch where he drags you by his side.
“[Y/n], what do you want?”
“Ion want nothing!”
“It don’t look like you don’t want nothing.” He grits. “If you want something, use your damn words.”
“I want an essential oil bath bomb.” You laugh, swatting his shoulder. “I’m being for real, Miles, Ion want nothing.”
Miles raised a brow, disbelief written across his pretty face. “It’s called communication, ma. Use those pretty lips of yours for somethin else other than complaining.”
“Oh, I’m the one doing all the complaining?” You snapped. “You know what else these pretty lips can do? Verbal abuse— so—“
“Tsk. There you go again.”
“Don’t go around saying I’m always complaining–“
“Ma, if all you want’s a kiss, I can give you allat.”
And you’re silenced with that alone.
Silenced, but not in the way that Miles thought.
“You don’t need to be all whiny about it, you could j—“
“Whiny?” Your voice deepens, back straightening. You take your knee and place it beside his hip, mounting his lap with a firm grip on his collar. He watches your figure rise above him, head dipping forward.
"I'll fucking show you whiny."
And without another whisper, you crash your lips against his, leaving him without time to breathe. His hands trickle up your waist, beneath your jacket, but never under your shirt. He was too afraid of touching your skin, in a way. Feared he'd disappear into the wind if he ever did, but when your hands pulled him closer and closer, Miles found his own gripping onto your waist, with the other lightly tugging on your hair.
Like in his dream, you nibble at the mauve and paint it with your saliva. Your tongue a little too invasive in the way it dampens his lip.
You're too good at that. Too good at this.
And in his haze, when you two part, a lingering string connects your brims. He heaves, a tiny whine rolling off his tongue with the harsh way you pulled off. "W-wait, I—" He catches his breath, expectantly waiting for the taste of your lips again. But when it doesn't arrive, he looks up expectantly, only to find you licking the corner of your mouth, savoring the taste. He desperately leans in for another, but you grasp his shoulder, forcing him down.
"I have to go home."
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emodwarfluvr · 3 months
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nico di angelo: nico who is actually niccolò, a name he uses rarely, quietly, carefully. something not everyone can say, nor grasp the importance of. niccolò di angelo, son of an italian woman, brother of an italian girl, grandson of an italian man and diplomat: blood as red and vibrant as caravaggio’s death of the virgin flows through his veins, his complexion carries the faint memory of olives and the liquid they produce, a memory of where he comes from, of home. niccolò: a name of most significant power and presence, owned by many before him. before niccolò di angelo there was niccolò “ugo” foscolo, before niccolò foscolo there was niccolò machiavelli: a legacy of writers, poets who made history with the sole movement of their hand holding a quill. he, too, will carry their memory, spread his word about the generations that led to his existence. he will see the sun shining bright in the sky and bask in the light and warmth it brings, because who is he if he doesn’t appreciate the pieces of home that follow him wherever he goes? he will look at the night sky and think of galileo, of leopardi’s poems, and he will remember the loud laughter of his mamma and the tight embraces of his nonna. he will make food for his loved ones with all the passion and affection his heart can carry and, for an instant, be brought back to that one tiny, hidden street, now long forgotten, in venice, where his home once stood, and in that instant he will reminisce and smile at the consciousness that he carries his own bloodline and origins with him, always.
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cristalbeesnow · 27 days
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Stelle e ottone...Wonderful book!!!!
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james potter fic recs (1/2)
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you are responsible for the content you consume‼️
✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚
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‹𝟹 you don’t really like me, you just think you do. by @perpetuallydaydreaming james potter x reader | fluff & angst, 5.9k wc, getting together, jamie being the best suitor, charlie is also here
-when james’ feelings did a 180, you find it hard to take him seriously.
‹𝟹 hike and pipe by @gxtitobxby james potter x fem!reader | oral sex (fem receiving), reader has a ponytail that gets pulled on, p in v. idk s’all pretty sweet tbh
-"ready to go, darlin'?"
‹𝟹 chef!james blurb by ^ chef!james potter x reader
-you turn off the water and reach for a paper towel to dry off your hands just as james finishes tying an apron around his waist. saddling up next to him with a bright smile, you watch as he shuffles some vegetables on the cutting board. "what are we cooking today, jamie?"
‹𝟹 his last by ^ james potter x reader | fluff, smut mentions
-"I can't believe you've touched other girls like this."
‹𝟹 breakfast of champions by ^ james potter x fem!reader | oral sex (fem receiving), daddy kink, dacryphilia, overstimulation, 1.4k
-the one where james wants you to sit on his face but you are shy
‹𝟹 a helping hand by ^ james potter x pregnant!reader | mentions of feeling uncomfortable in your own body, allusions to smut, mentions of razors and shaving, james and reader simp for each other the whole time :’)
-you’re taking a little too long in the bathroom. 
‹𝟹 better kisser(part 2) by @quindolyn  jily x reader | poly sex, jily x reader, dom!james, dom!lily, sub!reader, lily’s a sex god, prove me wrong, they’re both cocky as fuck
-lily starts bragging about how she thinks she’s better at other things since she’s the better kisser so they make it a competition over who can like… get the reader off fastest… and then it’s like a competition to see who can get her off the most…
‹𝟹 third by @midnightsenchanted jily x reader | hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, angsty teens, insecurities, pet name: sweetheart, 2.4k
-your secret relationship with james and lily was going well, until james made a mistake and outed his relationship with lily, leaving them to the public eye and you hidden in the dark.
‹𝟹 italy 1978 by @redtaylorsversiongirlie james potter x muggle!italian!reader | nothing much just some dirty jokes, james being a simp
-james potter never thought he could be in love with someone else than lily evans. however, that was quickly changed when in italy, he lands his on a beautiful muggle girl from venice.
‹𝟹 wake up, fall down by @curseofaphrodite james potter x reader | mentions of alcohol!
-james doesn't get drunk often but when he does, chaos follow.
‹𝟹 getaway car by ^ james potter x fem!reader | fluff
-stolen stares turn out to be much more troubling than they should have been.
‹𝟹 began with a death by ^ james potter x fem!reader | mentions of death, drowning, y/n being a lil bitchy, angst
-after your best friend regulus dies, you take your anger out on james. 
‹𝟹 twenty/twenty vision by @leahsficemporium james potter x reader | 2.2k
-james finds you that morning struggling to cook breakfast. among helping you, he realizes you may need to get new glasses and he gets very comfortable in helping test out his theory. close is not close enough when it comes to james potter
‹𝟹 surprise by @cupids-crystals james potter x reader | super fluffy! no reader pronouns, 0.9k
-boyfriend!james potter throws reader a surprise birthday party.
‹𝟹 you’re cheating on me, aren’t you? by @luveline james potter x reader
-you see it on your phone and want to try it. no part of you believes james would truly be cheating on you – he's too caring. he irons your socks. 
‹𝟹 james fic by ^ james potter x reader | fluff
-you watch james struggle through a tequila shot with a fond look on your face. leaning against the cold brick wall of sirius black's house, you can smell the comforting wafts of woodsmoke as the outdoor burner putters away, the sticky sweet smell of foxglove that peeks over the tops of his ordinate brown fence, the whispers of james' cologne where it lingers on his jacket. you wrap it tighter around yourself to stave off the cold chill. the prequels (you don't have to read): 1 2 3.
‹𝟹 cute blurb by ^ james potter x reader
-reader having a sore tooth or loose tooth sort of thing? him wanting to have a look or get the tooth out but reader is scared?
‹𝟹 angst blurb by ^ james potter x reader | angsty, comforting
-reader flinches during an argument? with happy ending and a lot of comfort obviously
‹𝟹 your hand, forever by ^ james potter x fem!reader | fake!dating, pining, marauders era, basically a love note for james. fem!reader, fluff, intimacy
-you ask james to pretend to be your boyfriend. he always says yes.
‹𝟹 james drabble by ^ james potter x reader | suggestive 18+
-james coming home to see you walking around the house with a laundry jacket against your hip in just a short shirt and pair of panties, and him being all mushy and soft just seeing you like that. but also a little bit turned on knowing that you walk around like that everyday..?
‹𝟹 james blurb by ^ james potter x drunk!reader
-drunk reader calls james by accident and he goes to pick her up and finds out she is really really drunk and helps her getting sick and he starts worrying this may be a problem and tries to talk to her bc he worries
‹𝟹 bodyguard blurb by ^ bodyguard!james potter x reader | fluff
-bodyguard james and reader somehow endangers herself and after he’s all angry upset cause she could’ve been hurt! but then fluffiness?
‹𝟹 summer love by ^ james potter x reader
-some james romance. the potter's have a summer home/lake house and james falls for the girl in the cabin down the lane (and sirius and remus tease him endlessly).
‹𝟹 james blurb by ^ james potter x reader | injury, tw for burns/ getting burned
-"can you watch the barbecue for me?" james asks you.
‹𝟹 golden snitches and old wounds by @shadowsinger11 james potter x insecure!reader | suggestive themes, references to anxiety and depression
-lily and you were sitting on a bench right on top of one of the twelve colorful towers around the massively wide pitch, waving your gryffindor flags in excitement.
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‹𝟹 james blurb by @roonilwazlibimagines james potter x reader
-similar scenario to when harry fell off his broom due to the dementors in poa happened to you during quidditch, say if the dementors were there for some reason and either he’s on your team or watching from the sidelines and it’s raining and he just sees you falling from the sky, and how he would react when he sees you and by your bedside
‹𝟹 best friends sister by @eddiesbug james potter x fem!reader | lotsa fluff, smut, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it kids), james being literally so sexy (it’s a warning), 1.8k
-james finally convinces you to give him a chance.
‹𝟹 sub!james blurb by ^ sub!james potter x reader | smut, fluff, 6k
-best friend!james coming back from a really bad night out/date/hook up/idk stuck in subspace and going to ur house so you just tease him until he's crying and begging for you take care of him so you do
‹𝟹 jily smutty blurb by @prettybabybaby lily potter x james potter x babysitter!reader | smut
-“good job, sweet girl,”
‹𝟹 sleepy love by @cryonme james potter x gn!reader
-james being a softie for his sleepy love.
‹𝟹 my boys by @velvetcloxds dad!james x fem!nanny!reader | age gap (reader in her twenties, james in his early thirties), 1.1k
-james asking you to move in with him (same au as worth the wait)
‹𝟹 daisy by @marauderslupins dad!james potter x reader | fluff, 1.5k
-who knew the sweet gesture tied into a school boy crush could lead to the best thing in a man’s life. james potter certainly never suspected he would have a baby with you, not after the years of rejection you put him through. but now she was here and the word ‘daisy’ had an even more beautiful meaning.
‹𝟹 skin by @jamespottersmommy dad!james potter x mom!reader | fluff, partial nudity, sensory issues, crying
-focus is mainly on harry and him having sensory issues and reader decides to help him exactly how she did when he was a baby.
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‹𝟹 the bet by @solemnly-mischievous james potter x reader | d/s, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, james is slightly mean (but in a nice way), reader's a bit of a brat, 2.3k
-james claims he can make you come in thirty minutes. you call bullshit. he takes it as a challenge.
‹𝟹 fireflies by @mushroomlupin james potter x fem!reader | male masturbation, sexual references, grinding, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy!)
-reader and james grew up spending every summer together. but what happens when the two of them realize that they've fallen for one another? (it's just a best friends to lovers trope in a nutshell)
‹𝟹 wear you like a necklace by @letterstotheflre james potter x reader | smut (boob fucking)
-james fucks your tits
‹𝟹 family blurb by ^ dad!james potter x mum!latina!reader
-a sharp cry and the panicked shout of "mommy!" makes you look up from the counter in alarm.
‹𝟹 james and bagels by ^ dad!james potter x reader
-"oh, darling," james coos when he sees your teary eyes. he scoots the plate as far away from you as he can and wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you into his chest. "you're okay, my love. we can just find another thing for you to have."
‹𝟹 give you my wild, give you my child by ^ james potter x reader | pregnancy, food
-you get pregnancy cravings at 1am
‹𝟹 i think that it's best if we both stay by ^ james potter x reader | mdni, 18+, just the tiniest of smut at the end (nothing too explicit), a little bit of angst maybe
-the morning after your argument with james
‹𝟹 tikotk trend headcannon by @ddejavvu  james potter x reader + others
-how fast do you think the marauders would be with the trend where girls let out a cry of pain and then time their boyfriends to see how long it takes them to come in
‹𝟹 cute easter blurb by @ohlovxr dad!james potter x reader
-james would be this giant ball of energy leading up to easter when your babies are old enough to understand it. 
‹𝟹 marauders blurb by @randomoutsiders poly!marauders x reader | sub!james x sub!fem!reader x dom!remus x dom!sirius, mention of eating, swearing, mentions of sex, nicknames, subspace, hickies, mention of a punishment, 18+, nsfw, 1.5k
-poly!marauders where sub!james and sub!fem!reader sneak off to hogsmead and get caught by dom!remus and dom!sirius when they try to sneak back into the dorms
‹𝟹 four eyes by @sarahisslytherin james potter x reader | fluff
-when james misplaces his glasses you take it upon yourself to get him through the school day.
‹𝟹 whipped by @cosmal drunk!james potter x fem!reader
-james let’s you take him home when he’s drunk. james’s friends think he’s whipped.
‹𝟹 imagining coming home to james drunk by ^ james potter x fem!reader
-he’s not asleep because he’s been waiting for you to come home from a night out with your friends. he’s up watching tv and you stumble in through the door. he’s up in an instant when he hears you trying to shuck your shoes off at the door. y/n! sweetheart, how was your night?
‹𝟹 james wants u to look at him by @strgrlxox james potter x reader | smut
-james has had you in this position only a few times before, although, this is the first time he is looking at all of you. usually you allow him to love you in the dark, with an oversized shirt of his around your frame––concealing yourself from him.
‹𝟹 james always just wants to be your good boy by @sxriusblxck james potter x reader | smutty
-he wakes you with orgasm after orgasm, not stopping until you’re pushing him away and snapping your legs shut.
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