#780 word

[schrodingers-romy]

so the giyuu thing (selfship vamp au from the ask game) might become a little fic

[a-godman]

To Live the Christian Life is for us to Accept the Discipline of the Holy Spirit

 To live the Christian life is for us to accept the discipline of the Holy Spirit, for God wants to take away our taste and change our scent by His discipline, which is God’s emptying us from vessel to vessel until we have the pure taste of Christ and exude the pure fragrance of Christ. Amen! On the one hand, the Christian life is something very positive, for it is for us to live Christ by…

[cloudbattrolls]

Breaking: The Gayest Blender in the Forest Has Made Some Gay Art

[professorlegaspi]

I’m normal and can be trusted with Indaba equating gratitude with service

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Unlucky Overtime

SUMMARY: The Spelldrive game against Royal Sword Academy was very close. But it was in overtime that the teams broke the tie and Night Raven College... lost. They were very upset by this loss and need your comfort even if they deny it.

CHARACTERS: Spelldrive Club 🧹 (Leona Kingscholar; Ruggie Bucchi; Epel Felmier)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss

WORD COUNT: An average of 780 words per character.

COMMENTS: Following the same premise as what I wrote for Basketball Club and Track and Field Club of "What if they lost?"

When I started writing about comforting them when they lose, I ended up finding it more interesting and cute than celebrating when they win. I think it's in the bad times that feelings are most intimate and honest.

When I wrote Epel's part, I was upset about something IRL and it ended up helping me writing him. 😂

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy 😉

CONTEXT: If there are competitive players who love to win, they are the members of the NRC Spelldrive Club. Leona, Ruggie and Epel especially. They were playing with everything, especially because of the school they were playing against. The game against Royal Sword Academy was very close, as expected.

When the game ended they needed to break the tie and so the game went into overtime. But unfortunately, this did not give your school the victory.

Leona seemed upset about losing, as did the other players on his team. But even so, he was the calmest in comparison.

They congratulated the RSA students on their victory (or as close to it as possible, if we ignore the slight growls and murderous looks). They avoided unnecessary interactions until they could leave the field.

You know very well how Leona hates to lose, especially when he tries so hard. And so you knew you had to check on him and try to comfort him, even if he says he doesn't want you to.

You go to the locker rooms exit, but you don't see Leona coming out. Many of the players looked at you angrily when they passed by, but knowing how close you were to Leona, they didn't have the courage to even be rude to you directly.

When you see Ruggie, you ask him about Leona. He tells you that Leona left right after he came in, that he went in, grabbed his things and left. He didn't even change his clothes. This worries you and Ruggie.

“You should go check on him.” Ruggie tells you. “And even if he says he wants to be alone, don't listen, okay? He likes your company even if he doesn't like to admit it. I would also warn you not to pressure him, but you already know that.”

“And where do you think he went?” You ask.

“Where do you think he went? Come on, it's not like we don't know his favorite spots.”

You decided to try your luck at the Botanical Garden, and it looks like you were right, but you didn't realize it right away. You go to one of his favorite spots under a certain tree. You look around, but you don't see anyone, until you suddenly see a tail appearing hanging down beside you. You look up and see Leona lying on a thick branch above you.

“I don't need your comfort.” Leona says, without moving and without looking at you. “Go to your dorm. It's late.”

“You wanted me to see you.” You say. “Otherwise you wouldn't let your tail fall beside me.”

“Believe what you want, herbivore.”

His tail was still there by your side and you don't resist to touch it to mess with him. You reach your hand towards his tail, but at the last second it swings, lightly hits you in the face and returns to Leona's lap, away from you. He finally looks at you, but with an annoyed face and growls.

“I'm not in the mood to play. Go away before I bite you... Don't look at me like that.” He adjusts his head again and stops looking at you.

You sit down against the tree trunk. He growls again, but doesn't move. Just like with cats, you'll just stay there waiting for him to come to you. You use your phone or read a book while you wait.

A few minutes later it starts to get colder, you start to notice it and curl up a little. Suddenly something falls on top of your head, you uncover yourself and see that it is a long coat. Leona's captain's coat. You look up and see him in the same lazy position but without the coat and just with the black clothes and belts. You put it on and you start to warm up right away because it was still warm from him having been wearing it.

A few more minutes later and you are startled again by something that falls right in front of you. Or rather, that lands right in front of you.

“Don't you get tired?” Leona asks you, crouching down and looking you in the eyes. “Of being so stubborn?” He has that unbothered, but still slightly annoyed face.

You put down what you had in your hands and stretch your legs on the floor. He gives you a little throat growl. You smile, but he growls at you more, and suddenly he throws himself at you as if he's going to attack you. But he didn't. He stopped very close to your face.

“Yes. I'm angry that I lost.” He says in a low voice. “And that's why you shouldn't have come to me. I don't need pity or words of comfort.”

“Do you really think I pity you?” You ask. “I wasn't worried about you being angry. I was worried that you would fall back into that depressive state of feeling like life is unfair and it's not worth trying anymore.”

His green eyes remain fixed on yours and suddenly he kisses you eagerly. You already know him well enough to know what truly hides behind those roars and tough guy mask. His instinct was to reward you for it.

After he breaks the kiss he lays his head either on your chest or in your lap and hugs you. You are trapped now until he is willing to let you go.

Ruggie was so angry that Leona had to calm him down. All the NRC players congratulated the RSA players, but clearly only because it was what they had to do. The tension and animosity could be cut with a knife. After that, the NRC players go straight to the locker rooms. You feel like you should check on Ruggie.

You go to the exit of the locker rooms to wait for him. Some of the players who passed you on their way out gave you bad looks, but knowing how close you were to Ruggie, they did nothing more than just grumble into the air.

When Ruggie finally left he was still angry. When he saw you, his expression didn't change much other than being a little embarrassed.

“Hi, sorry, I don't have time.” He apologizes, clearly trying to avoid you, but smiling. “I want to put these clothes in the wash ASAP.” He walks around you and starts going away.

You follow him.

“I was thinking about trying those new donuts from Sam's shop with you.” You say.

You see his ears twitch with interest.

“Yeah... but you know, I'm not really hungry. And since they're new, those donuts are still expensive. I'm waiting for him to lower the price a little.”

“Don't worry, I already bought them for you.”

Ruggie stops! And looks at you in surprise.

“You did?! Why?”

“I wanted to give them to you after the game anyway. You know, for the good game.” You see him pouting. “I didn't buy them as a consolation gift. I did it before the game started. I was going to give them to you even if you had won.”

He seemed more satisfied with that explanation and you took out the box you had in your backpack.

“How come I don't smell it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, so I asked Sam if there was a way to hide the scent from you. He used a spell on the box.”

Ruggie asks you if he charged extra for the spell. You said he didn't. Before you open the box, Ruggie suggests that you go to a more chill place. After all, you were still near the locker rooms surrounded by players and spectators.

The Windmill is right behind the coliseum and not many people usually go there. In fact, there was no one else there. The two of you sat on the edge of the stream that surrounded the Windmill. The sound of running water could calm both of you.

You open the box, take out one of the donuts and hold it up to his mouth. He blushes a little, but accepts your offer and takes a bite. You loosen your grip and he takes the donut out of your hand with his mouth.

While he was eating he looked at the water and despite the calming sound his anger returned because of the thoughts that also returned to that game. You could hear him mumbling softly, and see his ears back and his teeth showing.

He finishes eating the donut and stands up abruptly, starting to release his frustration with swearing and cursing to the air, kicking the ground and even pulling up grass. You remain sitting on the floor eating your donut.

As soon as he finishes his emotional outburst, which he always did with his back to you, he finally turns around, dropping his arms and sighing. He kneels down next to you, looks at you with a pout, picks up the box of donuts and takes it from your lap. For a second you think he's going to steal all the donuts for himself, but he sets the box aside and lays his head in your lap as if he's laying it on the pillow after a tantrum. You even hear a dog-like whining. If you pet his head, you might see his tail wagging a little.

The two of you continued eating the donuts as you pet his head and ears to comfort him. When the donuts are gone and the box is empty, he gets up, sitting on the grass next to you. Ruggie looks at you, still a little sad, but calmer and with an affectionate sparkle in his eyes.

He doesn't say anything, he just throws himself into a kiss as a thank you.

EPEL WAS PISSED!!! Leona and Ruggie had to calm him down. Even RSA players were scared to see someone like Epel like that. Like other NRC players he avoided unnecessary interactions with players from the opposing and winning team.

As soon as they were able to retreat to the locker rooms Epel was one of the quickest to leave the field. You knew you should check on him.

You go to the exit of the locker rooms to wait for him. You see the other NRC players walk past you, angry about losing and when you finally see Epel coming out of the locker room, the expression on his face is the same if not worse than that of his other teammates, even the vein in his forehead was bulging.

But that changes completely the moment he sees you. His shoulders, and consequently his posture, relaxed and he smiled slightly at you, knowing he couldn't fool you with a big smile. He had a bandage on his nose because of the injury he suffered when he blocked a shot with his face during the game.

You walk over to him and carefully place your hands on his face, showing your concern for his injury. He blushes!

“D-Don't worry. I'm fine, I promise... Gah, wait! Vil’s gonna kill me when he sees me like this!” He suddenly worries.

You say that Vil doesn't need to see him so soon and suggest that the two of you go for a walk so he can clear his head a bit. He sighs and accepts your offer, you are usually right at these times.

“I really need to go for a walk. Or a run. Dagnabbit, I don't even know if walking around the entire campus is enough. If we could leave the camps whenever we wanted and I had a Blastcycle, or... OH! What if you come with me for a broom ride?”

“But you just finished a game of Spelldrive.” You say “Are you sure getting back on a broomstick will be good for you?”

“Don't worry, I can separate a game from a ride. Trust me, it will be good to feel the fresh wind on my face.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

He goes to get his broom and you climb on it behind him, holding on to his torso. The beginning of the ride is pleasant, but eventually he starts to speed up until he reaches a point where you squeeze him and ask him to slow down.

“AH! Sorry, sorry, sorry! My mind went back to that game and I got angry again. I must have started speeding up by accident because of that. Sorry... I think we should stop somewhere for a break.”

He lands on the roof of Ramshackle Dorm.

“Sorry again if I worried you.” He tells you after you both get off the broom. But the ride actually helped me a bit.” Suddenly he grimaces in pain and puts his fingers to the bandage on his nose, it seems his bad mood was returning.

You cup his face and kiss his nose lightly. He blushes a lot again and look away from you.

“I wanted you to see us win.” He admits. “I was so excited to know you were watching. I really wanted to make you proud.”

You tell him that you're proud of him, just as Ruggie and Leona probably are too. Who wouldn't be? He always works so hard to improve. And he's still just a freshman, there will be more opportunities to win, he's just starting out. And for a start, you're sure he played better than a lot of freshmen. You finish by saying that he should rest, especially with an injury like that, and you even offer to take care of it for him if he needs.

“Thank you so much, (Y/N).” He smiles sweetly at you. “I promise I'll give you a win next time.”

If you say that you would prefer him to be more careful, his smile and gaze will become even more affectionate.

“I'll try. Although... hum, nothing.”

You say that now you want to know and he blushes slightly.

“I... I was just thinking that... it must be nice to be taken care of by you. I wouldn't mind getting a shot in the face again for that. Ha ha ha.”

If you hug him, he will freeze for a second, but then he will hug you back and you will feel a loving squeeze, as he whispers a thank you. If you let him, he will kiss your cheek after the hug. And if you want, he will continue with another type of kiss.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[pellucid-constellations]

Azriel finds you in the cold.

Azriel x Reader (780 words, based on a request!, warnings: hypothermia, angst)

Masterlist here

~~

You were used to the cold. You grew up in its unforgiving teeth and clawed past winters when the bite felt almost too strong. There were methods to survive it, tactics to overcome the painful numbness that crept along your skin, but there didn’t seem to be a pattern to this cold. You were alone and this chill was with you. 

You should have listened to Azriel. 

It’s not a normal snow, he had warned, you should wait for me. But everyone seemed to forget that you were new to being fae, and when you were new, you felt invincible. You could live through the winters of your mortal years without a second thought. You couldn’t die from snow or ice or sleet. 

Or, so you thought. 

You huddled against the tree trunk, your fingers stinging and burning—but that didn’t make sense because the only substance that surrounded you was the blizzard. You could feel your body begin to slow, movements becoming labored when they shouldn’t. You hadn’t felt this kind of weakness since before becoming fae. 

Azriel was going to kill you; he’d be so furious to find your body here, surrounded by nothing on the outskirts of the winter court. Each soft whisper he’d pressed to your skin was loaded with adoration and praise for you being his mate above all else. He’d waited for you, he would tell you, and now you were going to die a meaningless death. 

Your grip on your cloak was concrete and rigid, but it was pointless. The snow had already seeped into the material and chilled you to the bone. 

You were tired. 

Closing your eyes seemed like the right decision. Sleep would help you gain the strength to sift through the white haze and find the border to these lands. 

Your lashes brushed your cheek and darkness felt warm. 

Until the incessant tug at your ribs became unbearable. Until a voice was calling you home and the concept of home ticked your heart rate up a beat. 

“Open your eyes. Please,” the voice stressed. Your body was numb and nothing was coherent over the whistling wind. 

There was pressure on your face and the air felt more stagnant, but everything else remained unchanged. 

Going against every muscle and desire in your being, you fought the weight of your eyelids and were met with the image of Azriel in the blistering cold. He was wrapped up to his neck as you were, but he was taking all of it off. 

“No,” you mumbled, the word barely a sound in the wind. 

Azriel’s gaze snapped up to you, his hands still clutching the scarf he was prying from his shoulders. His hands, with no gloves to cover his skin, cupped your cheeks. You couldn’t feel the heat of his skin, but you could feel the quivering of his fingers. 

“Good,” he seemed to mumble to himself. “Good, you’re awake. Okay, okay…” 

It was nonsensical and your brain was far too muddled to make sense of it. You only raised the dead weight of your arm to wrap stiff fingers around the material of his cloak. 

“Keep… it on,” you whispered. 

A spark of something shot across Azriel’s face. His lips parted as snow settled on his brow. “I need to take it off. I need to get you warm.” 

You let out a shuddering breath. Azriel, with his brows painfully furrowed, watched you for only a second more before he continued his motion to get you pressed to more of his skin and wrap the remaining area of his winter wear around you. 

“I love you, do you hear me?” Azriel spoke by your ear, the tone of his voice unwavering despite how his body shook. As if he wanted the strength to seep into your bones and warm you. As if that would work. 

He stood with you in his arms, your body now jarred by the change in temperature. He was moving quickly but not flying. Through a bleary blink, you saw the ice forming on the juncture of his wings.

“Answer me, y/n,” Azriel demanded.

“I’m tired,” you replied. 

“I know. I need to get past the border and then we’ll be home. You can sleep then, but not before.” 

You hummed a response. 

Azriel seemed to tense beneath you. “I love you,” he repeated. “Please don’t do this.” 

You wanted to tell him that you weren’t doing anything—that it was too cold for him to be here. But in the comfort of his arms, you let the darkness of his shadows lull you to sleep. In your dreams, you heard your name, over and over. 

[moonstruckme]

hi maeee!! would you ever write reader x doctor! remus where they dated but then had a nasty break up? maybe reader shows up at the hospital and remus has to treat her and is all concerned and shocked? if not it’s okayyy i hope you’re well!! 🫶🫶

Thank you for your request sweetheart, hope you're well too!

cw: stitches, mention of blood

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 780 words

Remus opens your door with an apology on his lips. 

“Sorry about the wait, I had—” He freezes. 

You grin at him. It’s half grimace. “Hi.” 

“What…” Remus stares at you while his hand finds the wall as if on autopilot, picking up your chart. “You…you…” He skims it, but it feels like only half of his brain is working. “You hit your head?” 

You shrug, sheepish. You look unnervingly casual with dried blood caked on half of your face. “Sort of.” 

“What do you mean, sort of?” His voice pitches before he can stop it, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to master himself. 

“I mean, it wasn’t on purpose,” you hedge. “I fainted first.” 

He pushes out a breath. Walks towards you. “Alright, let’s see.” 

The cut is above your eyebrow, and Remus places his hands carefully on your forehead and your jaw, lifting the gauze up to see it. Gentle, professional touches. 

“Are you experiencing any dizziness?” 

“They’ve already said I have a concussion, if that’s why you’re asking.” 

“Oh.” That was probably on the chart. He picks it up again, reading more thoroughly. “And you’ve already had anesthetic, too?” 

“That’s what they tell me.” 

Remus doesn’t mistake your buoyant tone for nonchalance. You’ve always shrouded your anxiety in smiles and good humor. To someone who knows you, it only gives you away. 

“Alright,” he says, making a conscious effort to banish his own worry from his voice. He pulls up a stool beside your bed and starts gathering his tools. “I’m just going to get set up, and then we can start. You shouldn’t feel anything at all.” He glances at you, seeing you bring your bottom lip between your teeth. “Do you know why you fainted?” 

You sigh, and it comes loose. “Yeah. Dehydration.” 

Remus looks at you sideways. “How did that happen?”

“Okay, you can put away your judgy tone,” you say, lips quirking up slightly. “I was helping a friend move into her new apartment. It’s hot out. It’s hard to tell dehydration from exhaustion when you’re carrying that much heavy stuff, you know?” 

He makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you roll your eyes like you can hear his critical thoughts anyway. “Why didn’t you take a break?” he asks. 

“I didn’t want to complain.” 

Remus huffs out a breath, amused despite himself. “You always were terrible at that.” 

“Hey.” You sound on the brink of laughter. “Terrible at what?” 

“At asking for the things you need. You’re always so worried about inconveniencing anyone you forget about yourself.” 

He lifts the gauze from your wound, wiping the area clean before readying the suture needle. You tilt your head up at his touch, a cautious, sweet sort of smile playing on your lips. When your gaze finds his, it’s like the world softens. 

“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he tells you. The endearment aches in his throat, tender and familiar and far too intimate for whatever you are now, but if you notice you don’t show it. You close your eyes obediently. 

Remus likes to think he gives his best effort to all his patients, but he knows as he works slowly on your stitches that he’s being extra careful with you. His eyes stay on his work with laser focus, one hand splayed across your hairline to steady him. 

“Alright?” he asks you softly. 

You loose a breath, somewhat shaky. “Yeah,” you say. “You’re right, I can’t really feel anything. It’s weird.” 

“It might leave a bit of a scar,” he apologizes. “I’m trying to be as neat as I can, though.” 

Your eyes open, seeking his, but you close them again when he tsks at you. 

“That’s fine,” you say in a quiet voice. “I don’t mind if it does.” 

Remus’ breath sticks in his lungs a bit, an old memory suddenly coming to him crystal clear. You in bed, lit by moonlight coming in through the open window, tracing his scars with your fingers and your mouth. Exceedingly gentle, not because you thought you’d break him but because you wanted to be, whispering sweet words that etched themselves into his heart and never left. 

“It wouldn’t look bad on you,” he agrees. 

“Right by my eyebrow, yeah?” Even with your eyes closed, your face is still expressive, your other eyebrow lifting with the corners of your mouth. “I think it’d look pretty badass.” 

Remus has the terrible, fervent urge to kiss the skin beside that forming scar. He doesn’t know what he’s allowed, but he might just be desperate enough not to care. Maybe he’ll indulge after the stitches are done. 

“Yeah,” he says, lovelorn. “It probably would.”

[mrfurnitureae]

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[dreamauri]

♪ —𝗖𝗔𝗡'𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗙𝗔𝗥 lando norris x  girlfriend! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . the world might just end if Lando is 0.0001 centimetre away from you, it's his perfect excuse to stick to your side (780 words)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

Lando Norris was always a little . . . extra when it came to affection, but recently, he’d taken clinginess to a whole new level. The 2024 Formula One season has come to an end and the boy couldn’t seem to tolerate being more than a few centimetres away from you for even a second. And it was adorable, if not a little exhausting.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, and the two of you were lounging on the couch. You’d been absentmindedly scrolling through your phone, a habit you’d fallen into whenever Lando was in one of his needy moods. Of course, "needy" here was just his cute way of saying, "I can't live without your touch, don't ever leave me."

You sighed, setting your phone down beside you and stretching an arm above your head. "Alright, Lando, I’m gonna get up for a minute. I need a snack," you announced, attempting to gently slip your hand out of his, which had been securely holding yours for the past fifteen minutes.

Lando’s head immediately snapped up from your shoulder, a puppy-doll-eyes-like pout already forming on his lips. “What? No!” His fingers curled around yours more tightly. “Stay. Please?”

“Lando, I’m hungry,” you tried, gently pulling away again, but he wasn’t having it. He threw a dramatic arm across your body, pulling you back toward him with a grumble.

“You’re being rude,” he whined, squishing his face into the side of your neck. “I can’t let you go that far.” His voice was all soft and pitiful now, and his grip tightened again.

You laughed, trying to free yourself. “I just need five minutes, Lando. I’ll be right back!”

“You’re breaking my heart,” he murmured dramatically, pressing his cheek against your shoulder and sighing deeply, like he was about to start composing a song about lost love.

You tried to get up again, but this time, he didn’t let go. Instead, he slid into your lap, his head resting comfortably against your stomach as if this was his rightful place. “Can’t you just stay with me for, like, two seconds more?” His voice was small, almost childlike.

You giggled, running your fingers through his hair, something he adored. “You’re such a baby, Lando,” you teased, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“I’m not a baby,” he muttered, though the way he nuzzled into your lap said otherwise. “I just like being close to you.”

You smiled and stroked his hair, shifting slightly so you could grab a nearby blanket. But as soon as you moved even an inch, he whined, a noise that could’ve been mistaken for a distressed puppy. “Where are you going now?”

“I’m just . . . making us more comfortable.” You wrapped the blanket around both of you, trying to get cozy, but Lando wasn’t content with anything less than full body contact. He scooted closer, practically climbing into your side, laying his head on your chest now, his arms wrapped around your waist.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the fond smile spreading across your face. “Lando, you are impossible.”

“You love it,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. His voice was muffled from the warmth of your chest, but it didn’t hide the mischievous grin on his face.

“I do,” you admitted softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “But I’m not sure how much more I can take of you trying to suffocate me with affection.”

Lando giggled, clearly pleased by your admission. “I don’t care. You’re mine, and I’m never letting go. Not even when you’re asleep.”

“Lando, you literally steal my blanket at night,” you sighed, but there was no malice in your voice.

He gave a dramatic sigh in return, finally giving you a bit of space but only so he could rest his head on your lap, looking up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. “I can’t sleep without you. You’re my favorite pillow.”

“I thought I was your favorite human,” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Exactly,” he grinned, his arms creeping around your waist once more. “So, you’re my favorite pillow. And my favorite person. And my favorite everything.”

You chuckled, your heart melting as you leaned down and kissed him. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you stay glued to me . . . just for a bit longer.”

“Thank you,” he said dramatically, resting his cheek on your lap like it was his throne. “I’ll never leave you alone again . . . well, except for when I’m racing.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, knowing full well that even then, he'd find some way to sneak his hand into yours during cool-downs or post-race interviews. Because Lando? He never really let go.

[reasonsforhope]

"France became the first country in the world to make abortion a constitutional right Monday [March 4, 2024], with French lawmakers adopting the bill in a 780-72 vote in a move inspired by the U.S. reversal of Roe vs. Wade.

The law gives women a "guaranteed freedom" to choose for themselves if an abortion is the right choice to make.

The amendment won the support of the three-fifths of the 925 National Assembly and Senate members required to pass in an extraordinary afternoon session at the Palace of Versailles just outside Paris in a move that was overwhelmingly supported by the public.

Prime Minister Gabriel Attal said to those assembled in Congress Hall that "we owe a moral debt" to the women who had to suffer through illegal abortions in the past.

After the vote to approve the constitutional change, Paris' Eiffel Tower was lit with the words in French "my body my choice" in the country where abortion was first legalized in 1975, two years after the United States' first ruling on Roe vs. Wade...

While limiting abortion ranked very low on France's political agenda, lawmakers were prompted to take action to protect abortion rights in 2022 following the U.S. Supreme Court's overturning of the 1973 Roe ruling that legalized abortion. Subsequently, several American states have passed laws to restrict or outlaw the procedure.

"I say to all women within our borders and beyond, that today, the era of a world of hope begins," said Attal, who at 34 became the country's youngest prime minister.

This was the first time since 2008 that France took steps to change its constitution. There will be a ceremony to finalize the amendment on Friday [March 8, 2024], which is also International Women's Day."

-via UPI (United Press International), March 4, 2024

--

Note: It may be the first, but I am confident that it will not be the last!

[elstattoo]

MEN DNI, MINORS DNI

“𝑺𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑰𝒕 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅”

WC: 780

Content: 18+, dom! ellie, sub/switch! reader, face fucking, strap usage, masturbation, degradation, use of the word slut

Author’s Note: Another drabble…. Ellie Williams I want you. So bad.

“Yeah, use that pretty mouth of yours,” Ellie groaned, hand tightly fisting your hair. Her grip never loosened on the strands, if anything it got tighter.

You stared at her from in between her legs, cheeks pink from the obscenity of the situation, your tongue lolling out to smother the plastic dildo in your saliva. Ellie watched as you did this, her stomach rippling with desire, her pussy tightening around the strapless strap-on buried within her, doing very little to prevent the wetness spilling out, messily down her legs.

The wetness was from not only your spit, but the precum leaking from her hole. You bit back every desire to just suck her puffy, glistening clit hidden behind the strap. You preferred her pussy over this any day, but Ellie practically had been begging you to do this for months… And you finally gave in.

Since she wanted to see this so bad, you’d give her a show. One hell of a show. You opened your mouth, taking little by little into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. Your eyes never left Ellie’s, she bit her bottom lip almost enough to draw blood. Her fingers tightened slightly in your hair, you moaned around the silicone.

The vibrations sent a chill up Ellie’s spine, she squinted her eyes shut. Both her hands falling from your hair to your cheeks, you paused upon the contact, lips still wrapped around the toy. Your own hand was gripping one of her legs for stability, the other shoved down into your panties playing with yourself.

Ellie felt herself dampen even more at that, she sighed contently before speaking. “Can I fuck this mouth, baby? What do you think?”

You hummed in agreement, mouth still stuffed, your knees pressing into the pillow previously placed — for this exact reason. Ellie shook her head, pulling your lips off it for a second. “No, I need words. Gotta hear you say it for me, ‘kay?”

Your lips were wet from your own spit, you sat there momentarily thinking over the idea, which spiked something within you. “Yes, I want you to fuck my mouth. Do whatever you want, Ellie. Use me.”

Ellie felt your hand tighten on her leg, nails digging into the flesh, enough to leave indents. She hissed, the pain easing quickly into her already built up desire for you. “You’re so good for me, baby. Always put that mouth to good use, huh?”

You licked your lips, then opened your mouth for the toy — signaling to her you were ready. Ellie quickly moved your head closer to the strap, your lips enveloped what length you could, before Ellie pulled it back out and roughly back in.

As she continued to fuck your mouth, gagging sounds could be heard from you, muffled over the strap. You continued playing with yourself, fingers quickly rubbing against your clit, desperate for friction.

Your jaw ached, but nonetheless you felt soaked from how hot it felt to be used like this — like a toy. Ellie gripped your cheeks tighter, moving her hips to fuck your mouth. She internally was rejoicing, finally fulfilling her fantasy, finding it way better than her imagination. The gagging sounds she pulled from your lips was music to her ears, and so were your muffled moans at the hilt of her strap.

The same strap that was pushed into her from the other end, filling her weeping hole — begging to be filled by your fingers or tongue. Ellie wished she could feel your lips, body twitching at the very thought. But she couldn’t help but savor this, not knowing if you’d do this again anytime soon.

Ellie smirked, finding your noises pleasing. “Yeah, you fucking suck my dick so good… I love this fucking mouth of yours. Such a slut with how you’re still playing with yourself.”

Your fingers sped up hearing those words slip off her tongue, fingers never stilling their movement. You moaned against the strap, loving how it felt and how her words made you feel. Your pussy gushed, your own wet pussy growing wetter.

Spit was gathered down your chin, even somehow on your cheeks. Ellie rocked the strap in and out of your mouth a few more times, then pulled it fully off your lips with a pop. She looked down at you on your knees, face messy with saliva, and chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. Breathing through your nose only did so much, and Ellie just ate up the sight of you.

Her right hand softly reached to cup your cheek, thumb running along the surface of your skin. “God, you look good like this.”

[ecstarry]

@into-the-jeggyverse / last / 780 words / a love confession for @velanavis birthday

“My coffee will be cold by the time we get there,” Regulus groused. 

James had suggested going back to his place before grabbing dinner. It sounded lovely—except Regulus knew it would mean the end of tender kisses, callused hands cupping his face, and those brown eyes looking at him like he was the first star they’d ever seen.

He’d find the most absurd excuses to stretch out the nights he had James all to himself.

“Then I’ll warm it up,” James countered instantly.

“It’ll taste like shit.”

“Then I’ll make you another one.”

“I’d rather take the reheated coffee, baby,” Regulus teased, his voice laced with a playful bite.

He only allowed himself to call James sweet things when he was teasing, probably why he got meaner as his feelings grew. Not that James seemed to mind. Regulus often wondered if James did it on purpose—if he loved being called "love" or "angel" by him so much that he intentionally annoyed him just to hear it.

“Come on, you liked it last time didn’t you?”

Regulus simply laughed in response. 

“Okay. I’ll go to the shop and get you another one,” James offered, his stubbornness matching Regulus’ own.

Regulus sighed, unable to resist him. “Okay, then.”

“Really?” James’ entire face lit up.

With an exaggerated bow, James extended his arm to let Regulus walk ahead. They strolled to the car, and Regulus opened the passenger door for him, leaning against the frame as James buckled his seatbelt.

“You know I would be happy to spend money on coffee every day for you right?” James said with ease, he always did, as if his words carried no weight.

“Since when are you a philanthropist?” 

“Since you’re the cause,” James confessed, his tone laced with an honesty that disarmed Regulus. 

“Smooth, but not very casual of you, James.” Regulus closed the door, biting back the sting of knowing James probably didn’t mean it the way he wished he did.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Regulus fastened his seatbelt and reached for the ignition when James spoke again.

“Would that be too bad?”

Regulus turned to him, brow furrowed. “What?”

“If I didn’t want to be casual anymore.”

The words hit him like a punch to the chest.

“I like having fun but I’mt not really into games, James. What are you saying?” Regulus’ voice cracked. His mind was running at a hundred miles per hour trying to keep him grounded to avoid getting hurt. 

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“Actually no, I’m tired of assuming what any of this means to you,” Regulus let out harshly. 

James unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted to face him, reaching for his hand. His thumb brushed over the back of Regulus’ knuckles with that same maddening tenderness Regulus had been savoring for months.

“I want you,” James said softly. 

“You already have me,” Regulus whispered, barely audible.

“I want to be with you.” 

Regulus remained silent. He was terrified that any sudden movement would wake him up and reveal this was just a dream. 

James dropped his gaze to the floor, as if his shoelaces could offer him advice. He took a deep breath, mumbled something that Regulus couldn’t understand and finally locked eyes with him. 

“I fucking hate coffee, It makes me anxious, but you love it. And the only time you let me spend time with you—time that doesn’t involve a bed, or a couch, or some surface you can fuck me on—is at coffee shops or roasteries or whatever the hell they’re called. I’m so fucking tired of pretending I’m okay with having just a part of you when I want all of you”

Regulus opened his mouth, unsure if anything would come out. His heart was threatening to rip him open and leap straight into the hands of the man in front of him. But James pressed on. 

“No, don’t say that I won’t want all of you if I got to know you, because I already do okay? I do know you, no matter how desperately you try to act like I don’t. I know you and I want you.” James paused, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “I know you, and I want you,” he repeated, softer this time.

Regulus turned away, his vision blurring as the tears he’d been holding back threatened to spill. It wasn’t a dream.

“Will you look at me?”

He did as James asked—Regulus didn’t know how to deny him anything.

James held his gaze, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I want to be yours just as much as I want you to be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Jamie.”

[oddballwriter]

All I Want is Forever

Summary: A blurb in which you are a vampire and in a relationship with the MK system and Khonshu likes to nag you about how you take a bit of what’s ‘his’.

Warning: Reader is mentioned to and is actively watching the moon boys sleep in this, it’s an endearing thing. Mentions of blood drinking (both implied for feeding and also for sexual purposes). Implications that Steven’s a monster fucker. Khonshu being a pain in the ass and an asshole. Not proofread so beware of any mistakes I wrote this around midnight and I was simultaneously watching The Last Unicorn.

Author’s Snip: Vampire posting time 🖤🦇

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word count: 780

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sergeant102105 @ingoldthewizard

It wasn’t creepy.

Well, it was. It was creepy, but it technically wasn’t on par with the fact that Steven, Marc, and Jake didn’t mind it.

Well-

Okay- more like Steven and Jake liked it and Marc didn’t say anything to not ruin whatever joy the other two got from you watching them sleep, but you could tell that Marc understood that the gesture was endearing rather than… predator. Which you wouldn’t put past anyone considering that the whole concept of having a vampire watch you sleep was seen as a predatory thing in film and media over the centuries. But they knew you’d never do such a thing to them. Never take without permission.

Even when you first met each other, they already seemed to know that you weren’t one of the “bad ones” let alone knowing what you are from the beginning. You weren’t sure when exactly you two crossed from being casual acquaintances in the night where you’d occasionally join them on local missions and get your feed that way - to a fully committed relationship, but you were there now and had crossed many other lines in the relationship, and done many things that you’d most likely see in adult rated monster romance novels, of which you found out Steven had a secret stash of in the flat. But there was one that you hadn’t crossed. One that you personally never wanted to cross.

You’d be lying if you said that you never wanted to turn them. It was this strange irk that sat in your chest and made you clench your jaw, wanting to bite. With all the years that you’ve been around, you’ve learned to control all of your irks to the point that you can hardly feel them anymore unless you let them be there. But this one sat even when you tried to shake it off. But you had enough willpower to keep it away from them.

Even if you liked the thought of being the same in that sense, you could never. You liked them this way. Warm. Breathing. Heart beating. Life still in them. It made them so beautiful to you. But even if you did want to make them yours there was one thing in your way.

You can always feel him in the room at a certain point as you watch them sleep, and it’s not different when you sit there on the edge of the side of the bed gently petting Steven’s hair as he sleeps there sound asleep. You feel the slightest gust of wind behind you and that feeling of no longer being alone in the room, coupled with the high and mightiness that Khonshu carries in the air with him, but you just continue on watching Steven’s chest slowly rise and fall and the slightest sound of the body’s heart beating until dusty old bird speaks.

“You can not have them.” he bellows out, “They are mine. They are my avatar.” he reinstates.

“I don’t want to have them.” you remind him. “If I wanted to I would have done it already. Steven’s given me his neck a dozen times already. I could have easily done it then.” you tease.

“I have told the little bug not to do that. I have told him that the blood in that body is mine on a technicality and that he’s not to waste it. But he doesn’t listen to me.” Khonshu complains. You just roll your eyes and say “Don’t kink shame him.” under your breath.

Khonshu stomps his foot, exclaiming “He could use that blood to spare when they’re harmed in battle that I assign them.”.

Steven sturs in his sleep at the sound but you turn back to him to gently shush him and lull him back to sleep. “You assign them plenty and replenish them when they need it. Don’t act like you can’t.” you scold him. “And don’t act like you don’t keep them from aging. I can see the changes of time in every living thing I see, and I don’t see any on them. They can sit by the both of us and be fine.” you tell the god.

“As long as they’re here with me forever, regardless of how, I’ll take it. It’s that simple,” you explain. “I prefer them like this anyways,” you add. “Steven as a fledgling would be a hassle anyway. He wouldn’t eat anything straight from the source. And Jake’s a messy eater in general.” you claim.

“But if you ever set sights on a new potential vessel then feel free to toss them right towards me. I’m sure I can figure something out.” you joke.

[markleessodalite]

Most to Least Likely to Make the First Move

Headcanon: Who in NCT Dream is the most and least likely to initiate flirting and ask for your contact?

Content warnings: none! :D

Word count: 780

MOST Chenle > Jaemin > Mark > Renjun > Haechan > Jeno > Jisung LEAST

Chenle:

Chenle’s one of the most extroverted members, and I think flirting would be no different.

He’d definitely rely on his sense of humor more than anything and would try to charm you by making you laugh.

He wouldn’t be cheesy or cliché by any means– his flirting would be somewhat hidden between his lines of banter, so you could easily miss it in the moment and not even realize it until later that day.

However, if Chenle is seriously interested, I could see him taking a more straightforward approach and being more obvious before just straight up asking for your contact.

Jaemin:

Jaemin is also one of the stronger conversationalists in Dream, and I think that would translate into his flirting style.

He’s the type of person to just say whatever he’s thinking, so his flirting would be very to the point (maybe even a little surprisingly blunt). Maybe a sly joke here and there, but mostly just a lot of compliments.

I could see him almost coming off like… borderline cringey? Like he might say something that would trigger your gag reflex if it wasn’t coming from someone as charming as him lol

I don’t think he’d be quite as bold as Chenle though, and definitely wouldn’t ask for your contact unless he was 100% sure you were responding well to his flirting.

Mark:

Mark is a bit of an awkward flirter, but there’s no way that will stop him from trying.

The awkwardness is part of the charm. Like how could a guy so handsome and talented be so abysmal at flirting??? Its so bad that it works, and I think Mark totally understands the power of being goofy.

Like Chenle, he’s gonna try to make you laugh (whether it be with him or at him)

I don’t see him directly asking for your contact though– i feel like he’d try to make y’all mutuals on instagram or something and just continue the flirting there

Renjun:

I think Renjun truly represents the middle ground here.

He likely won’t initiate the flirting, but if you start it, he will respond.

Renjun’s flirting is much more lowkey than the previous three though

I think he’s a body language kind of flirt: lots of eye contact, LOTS of focus just on you, very smiley and giggly.

When it comes to asking for your contact, he’s a bit of a wild card. He might or he might not, just depending on the day.

Haechan:

Even though Haechan is one of Dream’s top tier yappers, I don’t actually see him being that flirty?

Like he knows how to have a conversation and be an entertainer, but in his mind, flirting with someone is very different (and more intimidating) than just making your friends or an audience laugh.

I think if he was genuinely interested in someone, he’d be more concerned with just not looking like a loser.

But if you started flirting with him, he’d definitely respond well.

He might not be that good at bantering back because his brain might as well be frozen over at this point, but he will smile at you with those honey cheeks and laugh at everything you say.

Like with Renjun, its a toss-up whether he’d ask for your contact or not, but you’d probably have to ask him.

Jeno:

Now we’re in the territory of who would not make the first move, starting with Jeno.

Do y’all remember that Kode episode where Chenle was anonymously flirting with Jeno? That man was about to have a panic attack lol

I don’t think it’d be much different with someone he was actually interested in either– you’d definitely have to initiate the flirting, and you’d have to be the one to ask for his contact as well.

However, I do think Jeno would have some moments of bravery every now and then.

Maybe on a particularly good day he’d feel bold enough to ask for your contact, but its like a 30% chance tbh.

Jisung:

There is no way Jisung would ever start flirting with someone.

Anytime another member says anything even remotely flirty, Jisung is off to the side all flabbergasted and borderline offended lol

If you were to start flirting with him, it would take him a minute (or several) to adjust to the dynamic, and if he actually enjoys you flirting with him, he’s just gonna sit there and hope you ask him for his contact.

I feel like he's the kind of person who would be saying all kinds of things over text but the second y'all meet up in person he's 0_0

There might be a small, miniscule chance he does make the first move, but it’s about a 5% chance… so you better be feeling bold and confident because you’re gonna be doing the heavy lifting here.

[folkwhoreberry]

Amongst Demigods

Between The Gods And The Unknown

f1 x reader

or... the one where you find home one a new place

word count : 780

warning : none, english is not my first language!!!

check masterlist for more parts of the series!!

🏛️🏎️

you stepped into the clearing, camp half-blood stretching out before you like a world entirely separate from everything you’d known. the cabins were scattered around in a horseshoe shape, each distinct in design, representing the different gods of olympus. as a new arrival, though, your place was in the hermes cabin - at least until you were claimed by your godly parent.

the hermes cabin was crowded, filled with unclaimed demigods just like you. the chaotic energy was almost overwhelming, but there was something comforting in the way everyone was thrown together, no one quite knowing where they belonged yet. you dropped your bag next to an empty bunk, taking a deep breath. this was your new reality, and you’d have to get used to it quickly.

the first day passed in a blur of introductions, camp orientation, and a somewhat chaotic lunch in the dining pavilion. you sat by yourself, unsure where to fit in among all the cabins and their clearly established groups. that changed quickly when a group of demigods approached your table, trays in hand, looking as if they’d been at camp for years.

“you must be new,” a boy with curly brown hair and a bright smile said as he slid into the seat across from you. “I’m lando, son of poseidon.”

his casual introduction made you blink in surprise. lando radiated an air of laid-back confidence, but something about him reminded you of the ocean - restless and ever-changing.

“nice to meet you,” you replied, offering a small smile. “I’m… well, unclaimed.”

“ah, don’t worry, happens to the best of us,” another boy said, dropping into the seat next to lando. his features were sharp, his hair tousled like he’d been in the sun all day. “I’m charles, son of apollo.”

lando and charles introduced you to the others at the table. carlos, son of hephaestus, had a calm and sturdy demeanor, much like what his father was known for. oscar, son of athena, was quiet but sharp, clearly always thinking two steps ahead. george, son of hermes and counselor of the hermes cabin, gave you a warm smile, recognising you from earlier. he made sure you felt welcome, cracking jokes and assuring you that not being claimed yet didn’t make you any less of a demigod.

“if you ever need help with anything, just ask. we’ve all been there,” george said, his grin easygoing as he took a bite of his sandwich. “besides, we hermes kids take care of our own.”

“thanks,” you said, feeling the tension in your chest ease just a little.

over the next few days, you started to settle into the rhythm of camp life. mornings were filled with combat training and lessons on ancient greek history. afternoons were for archery practice, where charles proved he was as good a shot as his father, and sparring sessions, where daniel, son of ares, always managed to turn every fight into a competition. max, the son of artemis, was surprisingly quiet, preferring to stick to the woods, but when he was around, you noticed he had an air of focus and intensity that set him apart from the others.

you often found yourself hanging out with lando and george between lessons. lando had an infectious energy, always dragging you into some adventure or convincing you to race him by the lake. george, on the other hand, was the one who kept things organized, making sure no one got into too much trouble - though with hermes as his father, that wasn’t always an easy task.

“you’ll get used to the chaos,” lando said one afternoon as the two of you sat by the campfire. “it’s kind of what camp is all about.”

as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn into the camp’s tightly-knit group of demigods. there was lewis, son of zeus, who seemed to command attention without even trying, and ollie, son of hestia, who had a quiet warmth about him, always making sure everyone felt included. kimi, the son of demeter, was constantly tending to the camp’s gardens, while lance, son of hera, had an air of calm and authority that balanced the group. yuki, son of hecate, often practiced spells on the sidelines, a grin on his face as he perfected his craft. alex, son of asclepius, was always offering healing tips after sparring matches, and franco, son of eros, had a way of charming everyone he spoke to.

every night, as you returned to the crowded hermes cabin, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to find your place. being unclaimed wasn’t so bad when you had friends like these.

————————————————————————————

© all rights reserved to folkwhoreberry. no stealing or copying will be tolerated.

@briefkittenearthquake @colpenter

a/n : finally got to writing this!! turned out good in my opinion, stay tuned for the next parts!!

[moonstruckme]

hey lovely girl!!! i am formally requesting a james x depressed reader with lots of comfort if you’d like to write it!!! maybe reader is just like super overwhelmed by how sad and teary she feels and maybe a bit worried that james won’t get it but he’s so understanding and patient and kind and lots of comfort ensue, i feel like he’d be soo tender and gentle and when she’s crying just give the best hugs which i know we’ve discussed at length privately but it needs to be shared with the world

lots and lots of smooches,

rosa xxxx

Hi Rosa my love!! Thanks sm for your request, there's a bit of reader feeling guilty which I know we hadn't discussed but I hope doesn't hamper the experience for you

cw: talk of depression, self-loathing

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 780 words

You don’t know precisely how long ago you told James you were going to get ready for bed, but eventually he comes looking for you. He finds you drooped over the bathroom sink, a slow dribble of tears dripping from your nose. 

His arms are warm and solid as they come around your middle, squeezing just enough to let you know he’s there as he turns his head to kiss your face. 

“It’s okay,” James shushes you gently, warm nose to your warmer cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart.” 

He doesn’t sound surprised to have found you like this. He knows you’ve been hurting lately, though sometimes you hate that he does. You’re steeped in gloom, sad and guilty and at times scared that it’s never going away. Sometimes it all converges on you, like now, becomes something that feels too dense to carry. James wasn’t made to deal with your melancholy. His caring makes you feel worse. 

You punish yourself in small ways. Not allowing yourself chapstick even when your lips crack and bleed. Staying away from any foods you really want. Forcing yourself to sit in feelings of guilt and worthlessness long past when they become unbearable. You’re not sure to what extent James is aware of it, but he makes up for it as best he can. He’s doing it now, soft kisses mushed into your jaw, climbing up to your hairline. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak out. 

An especially gentle press of his lips to your temple. “Don’t say that.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not right now,” he says. “I didn’t mean…I just want you to know that you’ll be okay, you know? It’s going to be. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” 

You think he means to sleep, but when you get on the bed James works his arms around you, drawing you in close, holding you tight. You worry sometimes that he thinks you’re crazy or overreacting, but it’s hard to hold onto that belief when he touches you like this, like he knows all the contours of your soul even when it aches. He fits himself to them perfectly.

You press your face to his shoulder to feel the warmth of his skin on your cheek. Tears slip past your lashes, and James encourages you with soft sounds and kisses to the side of your neck and murmurs of I’ve got you. 

He’s receptive to your needs. When your crying wanes, he stops squeezing you quite so fiercely and starts sweeping his hand over your back in broad strokes. The press of his palm has a tranquilizing effect, and you melt against his front, exhausted. 

You don’t know what to say. Thank you feels too small, and sorry isn’t allowed, but James doesn’t seem to have any expectations from you. He keeps rubbing your back until you bring your hands to his shoulders, ready to sit up, and then he brushes the tears from your face with his thumbs.

“It’s going to be okay,” he tells you. James has a sincere face. He means everything he says, and it’s easy to believe him when he looks at you like this, brimming with earnest conviction. 

You know he doesn’t mean it as a platitude, or that he’s going to somehow muscle his way through your feelings until you’re alright again, only as a simple reminder: You’ve done this before, and it’s hard, and it’s awful, but you’ve always come out of it. It’s never been forever. 

“Yeah,” you say. Your agreement sounds emptier than his promise did, but you know that when it comes to certainty James is more than willing to pick up your slack. “Sorry, I’m just tired.” 

James lets out an exasperated puff of air, though his kiss to your nose lets you know he’s not truly upset with you. “What did we say about sorry?” 

“It slipped out.” 

He hums happily at the edge of humor in your dry tone. Encourages you back into his arms and lays down so you’re on top of his chest. “I’m tired, too. Do you think if we both think really hard about the same stuff, we’ll show up in each other’s dreams?” 

You ponder this, the ache in your chest ebbed for the moment. “Depends on what you believe about dreams.” 

“I think it’s worth a try.” 

James talks you all the way to sleep, his hand moving over the curve of your spine until you’re heavy atop him, deep breaths whistling in and out of you. In the morning, he’ll put your chapstick on for you in the bathroom and flirt with you until you tell him what you really want for breakfast.