#but it was indeed deeply personally satisfying so I count it as a win | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chibinekochan · 4 years ago

Note

I saw your post about requests, I hope I'm not to late! I fell in love with your Lucifer & Diavolo AU where they adopt a child! Any wholesome moments with the kid & them or the brothers/undateables would be so heartwarming! I especially love Beel so maybe Beel, as the biggest and with a big love of his family, seeing the kid and being like "so tiny, must protect" and becoming like her personal giany buddy 🥺❤

Ahhhh that au is so wholesome. I'm happy to revisit it. Note that the reader is a toddler-aged kid.

2.8k words

My Obey me! Masterlist

It's a normal evening with your loving parents. At this point, you are used to living with the demons.

It's chaotic at times but they all really adore and spoil you.

One evening you are plotting a surprise party for Lucifer's birthday.

Knowing that Diavolo just can't keep a secret, you rope the brothers into helping you.

"Uncle Mammon, I need your help." You know your very well-trained puppy eyes will do the trick.

"Umm sure… what do you need?" Mammon has a bad feeling already.

"I want to surprise Papa with a party but it's so hard to do. He is like a superhero who knows everything." You pout a little in frustration.

"Hearing you call him Papa makes me feel so uneasy." Belphie sighs from the couch.

"More like a spy or something." Satan chimes in.

"Belpie don't be grouchy and if he is a spy then he is super cool." You are still unable to say ph but nobody minds that.

Both just shake their heads.

"Mammon, will you help me?" Your puppy eyes get even bigger.

He shifts around uncomfortably. "Well I'd love to but sadly I'm super busy."

"But Uncle!" You use your best pouty face.

Causing Mammon's face to twist in agony. "Trust me little one, I'd help but Lucifer has giving me this task so I have to do it." He obviously feels bad about it.

You cross your arms. "I'm pretty sure my power is bigger than his."

"Well, yeah of course. You are the most powerful one without a doubt, but Lucifer can be pretty scary if I don't do my job." Mammon fully agrees but he knows what punishment will await him if he doesn't do as Lucifer told him to do.

"Papa isn't scary at all." You huff.

"Now, now no reason for that big frown on your face." Asmo chimes in. "I'm just the right demon for you. I happen to have some time and as your most awesome Uncle I will help you with that party of yours." He talks to you with a big grin.

"Wow, you are the best Asmo! You beam at him with a big smile.

"Totally unfair," Mammon mumbles.

"Too bad Mammon. I yet again get to save the day." Asmo grins in a winning manner. "So what are your plans?" Then he faces you.

"I want to make loads of flowers and string them up and then I want to make a huge cake for everyone to enjoy and we also need music. Oh and snacks and games of course." You remember your own birthday parties with glee.

"I see you have some pretty big plans. You can count on me for the decorations. I ask Levi for some music. He has a big collection that even Lucifer envies. For the cake, I'm sure we can entrust Barbatos with that." Asmo is already fully in planning mode.

"That sounds like everyone else will do the work, but I want to do it." You huff lightly.

"I see, in that case, everyone will assist you. Satan, you and Belphie will help us with the flowers." Asmo can see that you won't budge so he quickly changes his plans.

"Hey, why me?" Belphie grumbles.

"You make great flowers." You try to encourage him.

"I'm sure mine is better." Satan shoots back.

"Great, I will tell everyone to come and bring supplies. Let's make some room over there." Asmo whips his phone out and sends an SOS to the other brothers.

"Yeah, I will make a sample so they all can look pretty." With great joy, you make your way over to the table.

"Some need this more than others." Belphie glances at Mammon.

"Hey, I saw that, and let me tell you my paper flowers can win prizes." Mammon seems to be seriously offended.

"Say that when you aren't too busy slaving for Lucifer." Belphie teases Mammon.

"Just wait and see. Once I'm back I'll show you!" Mammon basically rushes out of the room, almost running into Beel on his way out.

"Huh what was that about?" He is carrying a big box with him.

"Don't mind him. Just join us. We are making flower decorations." Asmo just shrugs, already halfway into an elegant-looking paper flower.

"Alright, but why are we making them?" Beel places the box down, and there are parties and flower-making supplies thrown into it.

"I'm throwing a party for papa's birthday." You tell him with great enthusiasm.

"I see that's a great idea, but why isn't Diavolo doing that?" Beel knows that it's usually his duty.

"He is very busy, so I took it on myself to do it." You are feeling troubled thinking about your busy dad.

Beel nods with understanding. "I see, then we need to make sure it's a great party."

"That's the right spirit, Beel." You smile at him.

"I'm not that good at making these though." Beel sighs at the paper.

"It's pretty easy, let me show you." With great pride, you show Beel how to make them.

Beel copies your moves and manages to get a pretty decent flower.

"Good job Beel. I knew you could do it." You pat him on the arm.

"You are very good at this." Asmo smiles gently.

"I'm trying to become reliable." You smile sheepishly.

"That's a pretty big word there, little one. Great job learning that one." Satan nods with a smile.

"Thanks I'm trying to use bigger words but it's not easy." You sigh slightly.

"No worries, you are getting there." Satan encourages you.

You nod feeling motivated.

"Have you made new friends lately?" Asmo asks curiously.

"We got a new kid the other day but they are shy. It's hard to play with them." This only bothers you slightly.

Asmo nods in understanding."Just give it time. Kind of like with Levi."

"What about me?" Levi just enters the room, like on command.

"We were talking about a new kid who is shy." You look at Levi, wondering what his advice might be.

"I'm not shy, just socially awkward." Levi looks troubled.

"Isn't that the same?" You don't have an idea.

"Children's words are indeed sharp tools." Levi sighs deeply.

You look at the others seeking help, but they all shrug.

"Come here and make some flowers," Belphie commands Levi over.

"Ummmm okay." Levi sighs. "I got the music you wanted, Asmo."

"Just put that next to my makeup." Asmo points over to the couch.

For a while, you all make flowers until you decide it's enough.

"So next we should make a huge cake. I also want decorations. Maybe a castle cake would be great." Your eyes sparkle just thinking about it.

"Hmm, that might be an issue since we don't have that much time." Satan knows it can take days to make a cake like that and there isn't enough time at all.

You pout, feeling very disappointed.

"How about cupcakes? We can decorate a bunch of them. They will look great and it's easier to make a whole bunch of them for everyone." Asmo brings up a great plan.

"That would be awesome but a birthday needs cake." You agree but aren't fully satisfied.

"How about we make a special cake for Lucifer and cupcakes for everyone else?" Beel thinks it's a reasonable compromise.

"That sounds great. I will make his cake and you all can make the cupcakes." You agree to that plan.

"I will help with that. The cupcakes would be too tempting anyway." Beel knows you can't do it by yourself.

"And I keep Beel from the cake." Belphie chimes in with a smile.

"Sounds great. Do we have all we need?" You look at Satan.

"We have enough for the cake and some cupcakes. I will go and buy more ingredients while Asmo and Levi can handle the first batch of cupcakes." Satan has a very reasonable plan.

"Okay." You agree and all of you walk over to the kitchen.

It's a bit chaotic giving everyone space to work but you somehow manage.

In the middle of mixing the dough, with the help of Beel, you come to a sudden realization.

"We forgot about candles for the cake." You feel pretty upset by this realization.

"It's not a big deal. We can't put enough candles on the cake for Lucifer's age anyway." Belphie shrugs.

"It's very important. Without candles, it's not a birthday cake." You sternly look at Belphie.

"Hmm we could put one candle on it would that be enough?" Beel seems to understand that this is important to you.

"Dad said it's rude to remind adults of their age so that would be a good idea." You remember Diavolo saying that when it was Asmos birthday.

Beel nods. "I will get it for him. Belphie you take over supporting the little one."

"No, I need to get the right one. I will go!" You blatantly refuse.

"Okay, then I will assist you with that." Beel can't send you alone and he knows you can be pretty stubborn so this seems to be the best solution to him.

You nod.

"Can you take over for me, Belphie?" You look at Belphie.

He yawns. "Sure, have fun you two."

"It's not fun, it's an important mission!" You sternly speak.

"That's right." Beel agrees with a nod. "Do you want to ride on my shoulders or hold my hand?" Beel looks at you with a smile.

"I can walk alone too." You turn away from him.

"I know but I will feel lonely." Beel gives you puppy dog eyes, he is almost as effective as you are.

"Fine, but only because I don't want you to feel lonely." You pout slightly and then take his big hand.

"Thank you. We will be off Belphie." Beel nods towards Belphie, who just waves to us while mixing the dough.

Together with Beel, you make your way to the store.

You stand in front of the candles to pick the right one.

Beel gets distracted for only a moment by a new chocolate bar.

That is the moment when a demon approaches you.

Your parents have taught you what you are supposed to do if a stranger approaches you.

"Hey, are you all alone here?" The demon has a friendly tone but his demeanor doesn't match that.

You keep your distance and shake your head.

The demon comes closer. "Not wanting to talk?"

"Stay away." You loudly and sternly tell the demon off.

The demon seems to find that pretty funny.

You get ready to yell out loud and glare at the demon.

Then the demon looks scared and walks away.

You huff proudly and look for Beel. Who without your knowledge has seen the demon and glared at him, scaring the demon.

"Is everything alright?" Beel is worried about you.

"Yeah, I'm a strong one after all." You puff your chest.

Beel pats your head. "Definitely."

"Oh, this candle is good, what do you think Beel?" You suddenly see a purple candle.

"Looks perfect, let's get it." Beel smiles and grabs the candle, he is just glad that this didn't affect you at all.

You pay and return to the kitchen.

A lot of cupcakes have been done by now and Mammon has also returned and was promptly put to work, distracting Lucifer.

Belphie passed out but the cake is all ready to be decorated.

You beam at the sight. "It looks great."

"All thanks to your hard work." Beel smiles and starts to prepare for the frosting.

You apply it, creating a very colorful cake in the process.

"What do you think?" Proudly you show the cake to everyone.

"Looks great." Beel approves.

"It's so stylish, I'm jealous." Asmo takes a picture of the cake.

Everyone else also approves.

"Now all that is left is to decorate the room." You start to feel tired but can't wait to see Lucifer's face.

"You can leave that to us." Levi can tell you are getting sleepy and is just trying to help you.

"No, let's go." You wave him off, feeling responsible for the party.

Everyone just sighs.

So you all start to decorate the ballroom, Barbatos helps with this part as well.

It takes a while and your tiredness is getting worse but you are stubborn and push yourself.

The brothers get worried about you and look at each other.

"Hey, can you help me, little one?" Belphie is sitting on the couch.

"What do you need?" Despite being tired, you are eager to help.

"I need a nap, but can't get to sleep so can you help me pass out?" Belphie yawns to support his claim.

You are a bit wary at his request, but you know he needs his rest. "What do I have to do?"

"Just lay here next to me until I pass out." The couch is pretty big so it's not an issue.

You hum a bit, wondering if this is a ploy to get you to rest.

"Pretty please?" Belphie uses his sleepy puppy eyes against you.

He learned well.

"Okay but only for a little bit." You feel a bit reluctant but join Belphie anyway.

"Thank you." Belphie smiles and you pass out next to him before you even know it.

Once you wake up the whole room is decorated and looks very beautiful.

You look at it in awe but then feel disappointed since you didn't do everything on your own.

"Hey, little one." Asmo is the first to notice that you are awake again.

"You did such a great job with this all." Barbatos smiles at you.

"But you did the most." You pout.

"No, you did the most. I mean come on we can't do anything like this without a fight." Mammon sighs.

"Wow, that's surprisingly honest of you Mammon." Satan laughs.

Mammon huffs. "Well anyway, it's time for you to do the most important job anyway."

You light up instantly. "What job is that?"

"Get the birthday boy, of course." Barbatos calmly states. "I will get Lord Diavolo."

"Ah, of course. Get ready everyone, I'll be right back." You basically runoff.

"Be careful when running," Barbatos yells after you, you wave him off.

You dart around the corners to Lucifer's office. Almost crashing into him.

"Hold on right there! What's the big rush, little one?" Lucifer seems confused.

"Papa, you need to come with me right now!" You don't have time to explain and grab his hand.

"Is there an emergency?" Lucifer wonders what the rush is about.

"No, just come." You feel impatient and start to drag him behind you.

"Alright, I'm coming." Lucifer figures that everything will make sense soon and simply follows after you.

You keep dragging him until you reach the ballroom. "Close your eyes."

Lucifer does just that, still feeling very baffled.

You open the door. "Now you can open them."

Lucifer removes his hands and sees the colorful decorations.

"Happy birthday Lucifer." Everyone cheers loudly for him.

Lucifer is pleasantly surprised.

"Did you all prepare this for me?" He is pretty surprised.

"No, it was all the little one." Asmo winks at you.

You don't want to lie though. "We did it all together. My uncles helped me a lot."

"I see, thank you, everyone." Lucifer smiles at everyone.

"Hell froze over for all I know," Satan mumbles lightly.

"Let's cut the cake, I'm hungry." Beels stomach rumbles.

Everyone giggles at this.

Diavolo brings the cake in. "It looks so lovely don't you agree?" He smiles brightly.

"It really does. You did that, didn't you?" Lucifer smiles gently at you.

"I did." You admit shyly.

Lucifer blows the candle out and compliments the cupcakes before having a slice of cake.

"Do you want a slice too little of one?" Lucifer gently asks you.

"But it's your special cake." You want to have some but feel rude about it.

"It is even more special when I share it with the people I love. Diavolo will have a slice as well." Lucifer cuts you a piece.

"Alright, then I will enjoy it." Your eyes sparkle seeing the cake.

Everyone enjoys the party after this.

At some point, you pass out, no wonder after all the work you did.

"Look at that being all peaceful," Diavolo whispers.

"Did you have any idea about this party?" Lucifer wonders about it.

"No, they must've heard that I was too busy to plan anything fancy this year." Diavolo feels a bit bad about that.

"Let's bring them to bed." Lucifer carefully picks you up.

In your sleep, you snuggle close to his chest. Softly snoring.

"Our child has a bright future ahead of them. I wonder what kind of partner they will get when they are older." Diavolo muses quietly while walking beside Lucifer.

"I don't want to hear anything about partners for the next 1000 years." Lucifer sighs.

Diavolo chuckles. "I want to see them happy but I have to agree."

They both place you carefully in your bed. Leaving you to dream about your next great adventure.

#obey me #my demon family #omswd #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer

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velvetthunder1999 · 5 years ago

Text

All the time on Earth

Part 9 - Hogsmeade Rendezvous

Summary: You and George spend the whole day together in Hogsmeade, falling for each other more and more

Warning: None, fluff

Word count: 3.4K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

“Fred cannot come with us,” said George sitting down next to you. “Teachers know we’ll get nothing done together so they send us to detention on seperate days.”

“When’s yours?” you asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“I see.”

“They act like after writing some lines I wouldn’t do it again,” he rolled his eyes. “Or that I‘d regret what I did.”

“Do you?”

“Hexing Slytherins on corridors? Never.”

He looked at you, waiting for you to smile. You pressed your lips together, fighting a snicker.

“C’mon, that was funny!”

“I’m trying not to encourage you too much.”

“Yeah?” he looked deeply into your eyes. “Not even a little?”

You two locked eyes. He was stubborn. He raised his eyebrows, teasing you. You were about to loose. A grin appeared on his face. The edge of your lips curled up, then you burst out laughing.

He felt quite pleased with himself.

“So, what do you want to do today?” you asked. “I have sandwiches from the kitchen so we don’t have to hurry back too early.”

Spending more time with you? For George it was an absolute win.

“I don’t know. Where would you wanna go?

“Well, Honeydukes, obviously. And Ginny said there’s a café not far from the post office, I’d like to try that.”

“Alright” he said. “I need to go to Zonko’s as well. The only problem is — never mind.”

“What?” you asked kindly. God, you were always so kind.

“I don’t really have much money in the moment,” he casted down his eyes, even though he didn’t want to.

“Oh, that’s okay,” you said, searching in your pockets. “How much do you have? I’m not very rich at the moment, either. I have…. four… seventeen… twenty — I have four galleons and twenty one sickles.”

You put the coins on the table. George searched around in his own pockets.

“It’s three galleons, one sickle and seven knuts. Brilliant,” he sad in a sad voice.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you said, reassuringly patting his hand. “We can always act like rich people.”

George snorted.

“What do you mean?”

You raised your head and your tone became rather snobbish.

“Well, darling, a bright mind always finds way to make ends according to his needs.”

George started laughing then pressed his fingers together like he was holding a tea cup.

“Indeed, indeed, my dear. Now, please let me escort you to the nearest gate. Let us enjoy this splendid day!

You laughed then stood up, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, too.

“Alright, come on!” you let go of him and George felt his palms very empty. “Let’s go.”

You hurried down to the Entrance Hall and got dressed in your coats before stepping outside. It was unusually cold this day; the night before had been snowing, probably for the last time this school year. It was already the end of March.

Cold wind welcomed you outside as you started making your way to the village. You tied your scarf around your neck, but you still seemed to be freezing. George saw how you were shivering and stopped walking.

“Are you cold?”

“Yeah a little, so let’s hurry up. I wanna drink something warm.”

“Wait,” he said, a bit nervous. Then he started rubbing your arms to make you warmer, “Better?”

“Yeah, you should do my ears instead,” you said smiling and before he could say anything you grabbed his hands and put them over your ears. You laughed and asked teasingly. “Ah, better, you think we can walk like this?”

George didn’t know how to respond, all he could focus on was his hands on your cheeks. But you were not wearing any hat for the winter and your ears were really cold.

“Do you wanna go back and get you a hat?” he asked, still holding your face. He didn’t really want to let go but he didn’t want to be awkward either. He pointed at the castle. “We’re still pretty close.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t have a hat, maybe I should buy one.”

“Your mum doesn’t make you one for Christmas?”

He already regretted the sentence as soon as he had said it.

“I’m sorry, I mean — Y/N, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

You smiled at him and gently squeezed his arm through his coat.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it, really,” you started walking again and George followed. “So your mum’s making you all those jumpers and hats? That’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, you know it’s easier than buying everything.”

“More personal, too.”

He saw some kind of longing in your eyes. He stopped again and took his knitted hat from his head, holding it out for you.

“Here. Take it.”

You looked at him, confused.

“What?”

“Yeah, take it. I’ll get an other one. And you’re freezing, aren’t ya?”

You hesitated.

“I don’t wanna take your stuff, it’s yours.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His smile seemed to convince you. You took the hat and put it on, nicely adjusting your locks of hair.

“Thank you. How do I look?” you asked him, posing.

“Beautiful,” blurted out George.

He couldn’t say anything else. You were beautiful, with your scarf matching your eyes, with his hat on your head. You were wearing his hat. His chest was so warm, and his heart was beating really, really fast.

You were caught off guard by the comment and even though you looked a bit shy, you still gave him a warm smile in return.

“Well, thank you. Can we go?”

You sped up and reached the village in ten minutes. You decided to check out that café first that Ginny mentioned, which turned out to be Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop. After you both looked at the pink door and windows filled with pink and purple tea cups, you agreed without words that this was not a place for you.

“Zonko’s?” you said, fighting a laugh.

“Yes. Please,” said George still hallucinating from all the pink.

You went over to Zonko’s where you ran into Lee. You three had a laugh about Fred who was probably bored out of his mind at detention. Then George bought everything he wanted and the two of you headed to Honeydukes.

George was searching your face all the time, unable to look away from you for more than ten seconds. He continuosly glanced at your hat, his hat, and couldn’t help but imagining how nice it would be, you always wearing his clothes, because you wouldn’t be just friends anymore, because you would be so much more than that.

“You know if you like the hat, I can always send an owl to mum, ask her to make you one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. When’s your birthday? I’ll have your present by then.”

“Well, you have time, my birthday was just in February.”

“Wait, what?” he exclaimed. “But it’s the end of March! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t really care for it” you shrugged. “Ginny got me a nice perfume, though.”

George was not satisfied with the answer at all.

“I have to get you something.”

Your laugh was a bit dry.

“Oh, you don’t need to get me anything.”

“At least something from Honeydukes. Please, Y/N.”

He looked in your eyes. Your stern expression seemed to melt a little.

“We’ll see,” you said.

As you entered the store you quickly grabbed a package and went to the counter to pay for it. The lady smiled at you and said, “Three sickles, darling.” You reached for the money but George was faster. He placed the coins on the counter.

“Hey!” you said, half laughing, half scolding. “You didn’t need to do that!”

“Never mind that, I wanted to.”

“Alright, you know what? When’s your birthday?”

“It’s gonna be in April.”

“Perfect. Let’s see — Fizzing Whizbees. You like those, don’t you?”

You grabbed the package and gave it to the lady.

“This one’s also three sickles.”

“Great,” you gave the money to the lady and turned to George. “Happy Early Birthday.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling a bit weird. When you left the store and were walking again, he looked at you and said, “Why didn’t you let me give you something?”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to owe people.”

“But you wouldn’t owe me. I’d get you something for your birthday, then you get me something for mine. Next year it starts over.”

“Yeah, we don’t know that, do we?”

Your tone was so dark it made George concerned.

“Are you saying we’re not gonna be friends next year?”

“I’ve never said that.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

You stopped, looking at George. It seemed like you were arguing with yourself. George felt a nervous feeling in his stomach. He was afraid he did something that he wasn’t even aware of. Or that you don’t find him trustworthy enough to tell him what’s bothering you.

You sighed and shook your head. You put a weak smile on you face and grabbed George’s hand again.

“I’m sorry. I know lately I’m a bit rough. Exams and everything. It’s nothing against you, though.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

George believed you. Your anwer seemed genuine. And you were still holding his hand which just made him dizzy.

“Are you hungry?” you said, letting go of him again. “It’s almost one o’clock. We should eat the sandwiches.”

You two found a little shelter at the end of the village that consisted of three benches under a wooden roof. It was good enough for you since it wasn’t covered in snow; you sat down and opened your bag to get the food. You had two portion each, you gave one to George and then took a bite out of yours.

George found it quite idyllic, sitting at the foot of the mountains, eating lunch, adoring you from up close, smiling to himself whenever you meet his eyes or say something nice.

“George?”

“Mm?”

“I cannot eat if you keep staring at me.”

“What?” he said dully. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Sure,” you laughed. George felt his ears going red alongside with his whole face.

“You just… reminded me of someone,” he lied.

“Yeah?” you said, a bit disappointed. “Who?”

Shit. George couldn’t think. You made him so nervous. So awkward. He was happy Fred couldn’t see this cause he’d never hear the end of it. He raised his head, ready to mumble something — and then pointed next to the house in front of you.

“Bloody hell, look at that huge dog!”

You followed his glaze and your eyes grew wide.

“I’ve seen this dog before! Enormous, isn’t it?”

The dog saw the two of you and now was getting closer and closer. It stopped ten feet away from you and started wagging its tail. He looked at you with an incredibly smart expression, then sat down and held up its paws. George saw you looking at your sandwich then the dog.

“He must be hungry,” you said.

“I know. Wanna give him something?”

“Here. Come on…” you held out your sandwich to the dog.

“Careful, Y/N,” said George, but rather just to make sure. The dog didn’t seem to be wild, he looked quite friendly.

You put the food down and the dog ate it in three bites. George gave the rest of his sandwich to him as well. You reached for another.

“I wonder if someone’s missing him. I don’t see a collar, though.”

“He must’ve got used to the forest. Kids feeding him, probably.”

“Yeah. Hello — ” you wanted to pet the dog but that didn’t let you. He backed away after grabbing the sandwich out of your hands. “Hey!”

George laughed at your pouting expression then you two watched as the dog jogged away, wagging its tail happily.

“Come on, love, let’s go to the Three Broomsticks.”

You left the benches and headed to the pub. The streets were full of students now, a lot of them decided to only come down after they had lunch in the Great Hall. You were walking quite close to George, every time your hand brushed against his all he could think of is how badly he wanted to hold yours. He felt a sad smile appearing on his face. He should tell you. He should be brave. He’s a bloody Gryffindor, after all. But the idea of you rejecting him gave him bigger fear than he’d be able to handle.

You two entered the Three Broomstick and you told George to find a place while you get the drinks. George sat down and was watching you from afar. You soon returned to him with two butterbeers in your hand. George reached for the money, but you stopped him.

“No, it’s okay. I lost my bet, remember?”

“What bet?”

He remembered the night you two made the bet, of course. Him winning it made him disappointed, though; he’d really wanted to have a reason to come down to the pub and buy you something. You actually remembering it, though, made him feel better than the actual drink.

“The second task. Harry didn’t come up first.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. Thank you,” he switched to a formal tone, mocking Percy. “I hope this was a good lesson about gambling, dear Y/N.”

You laughed.

“Yes, absolutely. Didn’t mind loosing that much, though.”

“How come?”

“I’m having a drink with you,” you shrugged, smiling. George’s heart seemed to melt. It was like he just jumped into a large cauldron of hot butterbeer. He though he was gonna die if he didn’t kiss you in that second.

“So who do you think’s gonna win?” you asked. George needed a second to return to reality.

“Er — well, a lot of people are betting on Diggory, but he’s tied with Harry, so …”

You two were talking about the Tournament, guessing what the third task’s gonna be. When you emptied your bottles it was almost dinner time in the castle and you decided that it was time to head back.

George did everything he could think of; he helped with your coat, he opened the door for you when you left and he offered his arm on a slippery road. When you took it and gently held on to him, he felt giddy and had to force himself to hide the wide grin on his face.

By the time you two reached the gates, the sun was about to go down and the air became cooler.

“So, I imagine you’re happy winter is about to end,” said George with a suspicious smile on his face.

“Yeah… Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing…” George stopped and bent down and put his hands into the snow. “It would just be a big shame if — you know — someone — decided to use this last occasion for a snow fight.”

Your eyes grew wide. You started backing up.

“George, what are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, collecting a big pile of snow. “No need to worry.”

He formed a snowball and threw it at you, it hit you on the shoulder. You shrieked and gave him a disapproving look. George’s another ball hit you on your ankle.

“George!” you said, squatting down and cleaning you shoes. “Those are new boots!”

George took a step closer to you, scared. Oh, no, he messed up again! He gently touched your shoulder, apologising.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to —”

Before he could finish you took a handful of snow and threw it in his face. You started laughing and got up, forming a proper snowball this time.

“C’mon ginger boy, I thought you wanted to play!

“You little rascal!”

He laughed and ducked when you threw a ball at him. He quickly started making ammunition but you were fast; you hit him with two other balls by the time he had made one.

“You’re a bit slow, eh?” you laughed.

“Careful what you say to a Beater, darling!”

He hit you with a ball on the back. You hit him on the leg, then you missed the next one.

“Not aiming that good, Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up!” you laughed and you missed the other one, too.

As you were making a new ball, George used the opportunity to get closer to you. When you looked up he wrapped you in his arms, making you unable to move. You let out a squeeky sound, half shrieking half laughing and said, “Let me go, George.”

“Can’t do love, I’m about to win.”

He toppled you, still holding you safely, but only two feet away from the snow. You lost your balance and grabbed him, putting your arms around his neck.

“George, stop!” you ordered but couldn’t stop your nervous laughing. “Don’t you dare!”

“Yeah?” said George grinning, lowering you closer to the snow. “Why not?”

“You’ll pay for this! I — I’m gonna — I’m gonna figure out something!”

“Mm, dreadful threats, you have there. Anything else?”

He was holding you in his arms, your arms were around him. He could not take his eyes off your cheeks, red from the cold and from the wind. Your eyes were full of fear but also trust; trust that he would not let you go, not even if his life depended on it. George felt a nervous tickle in his stomach as he leaned closer and closer. He glanced at your lips, ready to make his move, when a snowball hit him on the back of his head.

He lost his balance and dropped you.

“Ouch” you said. “What the hell was that?”

George stood up quickly and grabbed his wand. He was furious. He saw two huge boys running towards the castle and he heard them laughing. With a sly movement of his wand, he made two huge, hard snowballs and hit Crabbe and Goyle on their backs. The Slytherins let out a painful sound and fell into the snow.

George looked at you and held out his hand.

“I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you said, letting him help you up. “You?”

“I’ll kill them, I swear,” he said growling, then started picking pieces of snow out of your hair. You gave him a smile.

“I have no doubt about that. Come on, let’s go inside. I’m freezing.”

He put away his wand and followed you to the castle. He had enough. He wanted to hold your hand, he wanted to touch you, hold you, kiss you. He reached towards your hand, but just in that moment you pointed at the ground.

“Nice one, Georgie.”

He looked at Crabbe and Goyle who were still lying there, trying to spit out the snow from their mouth. Yeah, nice one. He was quite proud of himself, too.

When you entered the Entrance Hall, George motioned towards the Great Hall.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, I just run up real quick” you said. “Change my clothes. Save me a seat?”

“Sure. See you in a bit.”

You ran up the stairs and he went to the Gryffindor table where Fred was already eating a plate of stew. When he saw his brother a grin appeared on his face, and when George sat down next to him, he leaned over.

“Sooo…?”

George burried his face into his hands.

“Murder me, Fred.”

“What happened?”

George shook his head. Fred watched him, concerned.

“Did you tell her?”

“I almost kissed her.”

“What?! What do you mean almost?”

George looked up and pointed at the arriving Crabbe and Goyle. Their clothes were wet, Crabbe had a bleeding nose. Fred’s face dropped.

“I see. You want the other one to have a nosebleed, too, Georgie?”

George snorted.

“That would be nice.”

“So what now?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Tell her! Let’s end this rubbish, for crying out loud!”

George didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to explain it. It was like the universe was trying to prevent him to do what he wants.

When you came down in your fresh clothes and gave him his hat back, he put a fake smile on his face. He was frustrated. He was angry. He was sad, and he was disappointed. He had a really great day, but why on Earth did it have to end like this? Should he tell you after dinner? He felt like all his courage was left in the snow outside. In the heat of the moment he could’ve done it. In here, back in reality he was not sure he’ll be able to.

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selfwriting-sugarquills · 5 years ago

Note

Hey love! I absolutely love your writings and the Weasleys, so could you write a George x reader imagine where they're playing quidditch (did i spell that correctly) against Slytherin, and her playing like as a chaser and getting hit and falling and him reacting to it y'know? Sorry my english sucks :]

A/N: (ok I adore this request!!! I hope it’s good enough, these past two weeks have been really hectic and tiring, so I’m lying pretty low in terms of creativity :( but I have two weeks off for Christmas now so hopefully, I’ll have plenty of time to write all the amazing requests I’ve gotten!!)

Warnings: None (implied broken bones?)

Word count: 1.605

Fall

You were tightening the laces on Angelina’s sleeves when the twins stumbled into the changing room,

“Sorry we're late,” said Fred, dumping his bag containing quidditch gear down on the benches next to Harry,

“We ran into Filch on our way here and it turns out, he wasn’t a fan of our latest endeavours in the arts of surprise.”George’s face split into a grin as he pulled his shirt over his head and feeling suddenly flustered, you to avert your eyes. You had had a thing for George since your third year which you’d spent gawking at him and blushing deeply whenever he’d looked at you, then in your fourth year, you’d been paired up in charms, where he succeeded in a very literal sense. He’d asked you to help him practice on the quidditch pitch and you’d said yes, mostly because you wanted to spend time with him alone and you hoped that was his intention too though when Fred showed up on the pitch as well, you weren’t surprised, just a little disappointed.

Now, you were in your fifth year, your crush still going strong, not that that would help you in the biggest match of the school year, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. The weather seemed to be on your side, being on the clear, cool side with little wind but the tension between the two teams was at an all-time high, meaning you, one of the chasers, would probably be spending most of the match trying not to be murdered.

“you know,” said Angelina, breaking your trail of thought, “there’s going to be this huge party after the match when we win,,” a smirk was playing on her lips, as she glanced towards the twins, who were sharing the tale of their latest prank with Harry and Katie,

“and when we win, which we will,” she reassured quickly, mostly to herself, “I think it’s about time you tell a certain redhead how you feel,” her smirk grew as she watched your eyes widen,

“shh!” you hushed, “he is right over there could you say it a little louder you think?!”

“I can if it will make you two finally get together,”

“Shut up!”

“Alright team,” Wood said, gesturing to your small group of people as to bring you closer, “as I’m sure you’ve noticed, there’s a lot hanging on today's’ results and Slytherin wants a victory no matter the cost, so let’s try to stay alive, and Harry,” he turned to Harry who gulped, “I assume there’s no need for me to tell you just how much I need you to catch the snitch before that Malfoy kid does,” he said with such seriousness that even you felt a surge of adrenaline.

Walking up to the entrance you were gripping your broom tightly, remaining quiet despite everyone else chatting quietly to each other, your eyes were fixated on the grass below as you listened to the cheers from the stands. An arm nudged you slightly,

“you nervous?” George’s chocolate coloured eyes watched you with amusement, though you thought you could see a hint of nerves behind the confident sparkle,

“A little,” you chuckled,

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, the Slytherins are all a bunch of gits, we’ll have the snitch before they even realise the game’s begun,” he smiled and you looked back at the grass at your feet,

“Alright team,” Wood said at the front, turning around, “‘s time.”

Normally, flying wasn’t scary to you, ever since you’d tried it for the first time you’d become somewhat enchanted by the surge in your stomach when you dipped and the dizzying satisfaction which came with learning a new manoeuvre.

A bludger zoomed past you as you dipped, the surge in your stomach feeling more nauseating than exciting. The Slytherins were indeed ruthless but so were the Gryffindor team and it hadn’t taken long before the two teams had begun to pursue a more personal feud than anything. The foul playing had begun after Katie Bell had taken a bludger to the stomach, sent by one of the Slytherin chasers, who’d somehow gotten hold of one of the beaters’ bat, causing the game to be paused for several minutes. Then, the twins had retorted by sending two bludgers after the chaser who’d sent the bludger after Katie, both hitting him, the first sending him off-course by hitting his broom, smashing it to pieces, the second hitting his stomach, much like it had hit Katie, and sending him onto the ground with a thump which caused the audience to let out a collective groan. The beater’s downfall and injury caused another break. The team was getting restless, the twins pacing back and forth, most of you sat quietly, bouncing your legs and wringing your sweaty hands as you waited for Madam Hooch to call you back onto the pitch.

When she finally did, the beaters from both teams were sending bludgers directly after each other, exchanging various swear words as they whacked the balls towards each other, completely neglecting the chasers and goalposts. You were flying in formation with Katie and Angelina, who was holding the quaffle, she sent the quaffle to Katie, who dropped it when a chaser from Slytherin collided with her, Angelina and yourself were quick, though, and without much need to communicate you dived down, where Angelina seized the quaffle easily from one of the younger Slytherins who was quick, but incredibly clumsy, passing the quaffle to you as the opposing chasers tried to surround her in order to take it from her. You headed straight from the goal, you could hear the twins cheer you on as the Slytherin beater yelled something from behind you, in a fear of being pursued, you chucked the quaffle towards the tallest ring with your eyes closed and without opening them you heard a bell go off and a roar from the stands. Sighing in relief, you opened your eyes,

“L/n scores leaving Gryffindor in the lead with 30-10” Lee’s voice could be heard ringing out over the pitch over the cheers but you stopped listening to his remarks about Slytherin, as you focused instead on a small whistling noise, which seemed to grow closer and closer, when the realisation of what it was hit you it was already too late for you to react, something fast, hard and round hit your arm with a crack as you were knocked off of your broom.

***

George had had little time to react. After you’d scored both he and Fred had been too occupied cheering for you to react when a Slytherin beater sent a bludger towards you with such speed that if George had blinked, he’d have missed you being knocked off of your broom, his heart racing as he saw the bludger collide with your side.

Only seconds later he was on the ground along with the rest of the team, running towards you as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. Madam Hooch was already crouching beside you, inspecting you, you were sitting awkwardly, holding your arm and wincing as Hooch inspected it,

“ow,” you hissed, a tear slipping down your face, George held himself back from sitting beside you and comforting you, instead, he heard himself say,

“Is she going to be okay?” to Hooch,

“Oh she’ll be just fine after a visit to the hospital wing,” Hooch said, helping you stand,

“Can you still play?” asked Wood, Hooch let out a laugh,

“With a broken arm? not a chance,” She said, “we’ll call the game off, congratulations, I believe you’ve won.” and with that, she marched off, an arm around your shoulders. George couldn’t look away as you went, his insides hurting when he heard you let out a choked sob, as McGonagall joined you and Hooch. His stare was broken by Fred hitting his arm gently,

“Let’s go get changed,” he said, George nodded but turned to look after you once more before following.

You sniffed as madam Pomfrey finished wrapping up your arm, she placed a glass of skele-gro on the small bedside table, you sighed.

“This is the worst,” you muttered as you grabbed the glass and downed it, grimacing as poured down the foul-tasting liquid, you opened your eyes when something hit the duvet resting on top of your legs. What you found were two boxes of chocolate frogs,

“Figured you might need something to help with the taste of that stuff,” George smiled, you put the glass down,

“Thank you,” you said, picking up a box, “and I’m sorry for getting hit,”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault the Slytherin team is a bunch of gits,” he said as he sat down on the bedside, “I’m just glad you’re alright, you gave me a real scare there,” he said earnestly, his lips forming a grin. Blushing, you glanced down, suddenly unable to look him in the eye, you sat there in silence for a few seconds, painfully aware of how George’s eyes were resting on your face, in an attempt to bring the silence to an end, you grabbed the other chocolate frog,

“Want one?” you asked, holding the frog out for him to take.

And so that was how you spend your afternoon, eating chocolate frogs while George told you his worst (best) jokes in order to make you laugh, someday you figured you’d gather up the courage to tell him about your crush but for the moment, you were satisfied with George sitting across from you trying to catch a chocolate frog in his mouth and failing epically, much to your entertainment.

#george weasley x reader #George Weasley #George weasley fluff #weasley twins #the twins

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gascon-en-exil · 7 years ago

Text

Mercilessly Judging the Men of Jugdral: Part 3

Part 1: FE4 Gen 1

Part 2: FE4 Gen 2

Last and least (least filled-out on average, anyway) there are the men of Thracia 776. Unlike the epic breeding fest that is its predecessor, FE5, like the Archanea games before it or FE6 after, pads out its roster with filler recruits devoid of any character beyond a portrait and a line or two of dialogue. As such I have no choice but to keep this post to a filthy highlights reel of Thracia’s men. Playables not included here may be assumed to be like those guys you skim past all the time because there’s nothing eye-catching or memorable about them; given enough alcohol you may end up messaging some of them and maybe even come away with some photos of varying quality, but men who make such little effort to express themselves can’t possibly expect to leave much of an impression…or to get laid with any regularity.

(Also note that, as mentioned previously, characters who are playable in FE4 as well don’t get an additional entry here. As such we may enjoy the fitting irony of Leif not getting a profile in the post for his own game.)

Rash and impulsive, he’s quick to indicate interest in any guy he finds hot - generally with dick pics - but just as quick to stop responding once he’s finished jerking off or, more rarely, is actually successful in securing a hookup. Never remembers to bring condoms or lube, but it’s not much of an issue for him since he’s happy with trading handjobs and getting sucked off. He’s tried giving head and even anal whenever he happens to meet a guy prepared for a full encounter, but anyone who takes longer to cum than he does frustrates him and makes it tough for him to keep up the pace. Not looking for anything beyond quickies since he’s already got a reliable FWB or two and he’s some years off from having the dedication for a serious relationship. He’s got a soft spot for twinks and might eventually date a nice one once he’s matured a bit, but since they tend to make him uncomfortable in person this currently only manifests in his preferred porn tags.

Is used to being “the average guy” in his group of friends and, to his credit, has probably stopped a few drunken benders from turning criminal and/or lethal. As such he’s not very accustomed to having guys hit on him, but he’ll surprise everyone by immediately going after anyone who expresses a passing interest. Whether that reads as assertive or desperate will vary on the person, but any guy looking for a steady boyfriend with some bulk - a little less glam and a little more pudge if he’s being honest, but then he’s not one for sugarcoating - won’t be disappointed. An experienced top with enough stamina to go for multiple rounds and enough flexibility and cushion on the back end to take a turn bottoming if so desired. He’ll be often overlooked like so many of the other guys in Thracia, but his friends are just crazy enough to keep him from looking too boring.

Unusually involved for a late-in-life gay, he can always be relied upon to be organizing something within the community, whether it’s an amateur sports team for his favorite bar or a drag show for charity. He’s more likely to meet guys at such events than he is on hookup apps, though he does put in a token appearance on all the ones friendly to more hirsute men. Doesn’t have a problem with femme guys but isn’t likely to get naked with them either, and if he finds his (second) better half it’ll most likely be with a good-natured cub. The Bear flag hangs prominently in at least one of his offered selfies, which also include close-up action shots of him breeding and/or getting bred by someone just as hairy as he is (but don’t worry, he’s on PrEP and has all the relevant links and pamphlets on hand to encourage you to get on it too).He may be a bit short and stubby below the belt, but his gut isn’t as pronounced as it often is for men of his build so there won’t be too many problems with maneuvering at least. Likes to fuck long and slow for hours, but he won’t push his partners if they can’t keep up with his pace.

Deceptively hairy, as anyone will discover once he starts sending pics, but aside from that he seems like a typical gym bunny at first glance. It’s only after getting to know him through conversation - generally after exhausting him via a lengthy session of circle jerking and oral - that he reveals that he’s been recovering from a reckless past of partying and drug use. Has unquestionably engaged in PNP, possibly with meth, but if nothing else he deserves props now for making an earnest effort to clean up his act. Is not really that much of a top - after being dependent on alcohol and drugs to get in the mood he doesn’t stay hard for long - but this will work out in his favor since what he really needs is a strong guiding hand from an older man. As a power bottom he’s both loud and sloppy; his aim is terrible even when sitting on a dick. Even so, he’s a dream come true for a bear looking for a beefy young man and/or a good project.

Still in some equivalent of a teenage mall goth phase, though in his case it’s more like a pirate phase what with the piercings and tattoos and overall swarthy look. Not very secure in his sexuality, but he’ll angrily rebuff any attempts at playing therapist or any requests from guys looking for something more than a blow-and-go. Will open conversations with a dick pic and precise stats, and if that proves enticing he might be feeling risqué to show off his (underdeveloped) torso. May never progress beyond the level of glory holes and handjobs with no eye contact until he addresses his myriad hangups, which range from a deeply embarrassing crush on a guy who used to bully him in school to an even more embarrassing diaper fetish - any evidence of which he’ll immediately scrub clean from his internet history after each guilt-laden wank. In the end he’s probably best off being left alone, though it’s anyone’s guess what amount of trouble he could end up in on his own.

He can always be counted on to spend most of his time at bars hanging outside by the door, greeting all the twinks with a winning smile and heckling any homophobic passerby with taunts and poses that he assumes look more threatening than silly. His white knight-ish behavior has indeed gotten him laid on more than a few occasions, but he’s got just as many rivals as he’s got satisfied fans. Buffed up to full-on twunk shortly after hitting the scene for the first time when he realized that no one was going to take him seriously as a Dom otherwise with that face. Flexible enough to work with ropes, leathers, blindfolds, or simple hard vanilla fucking depending on what’s being asked of him, although he does get an extra thrill out of the kinky stuff. He’s got a good sense for when he’s worn out his welcome and would be better moving on, something he can accomplish with ease thanks to a lack of serious career aspirations and his ability to charm his way into hearts and beds no matter where he ends up. It’s unlikely he’ll ever return to his hometown, after an incident in which he drunkenly made a pass at a guy that he later figured out was his own brother.

Still a few years away from being old enough to drink - and about fifteen years away from looking old enough - but he gets in anyway since he has a tendency to hang around upperclassmen. Unironically wears booty shorts and flashy scarves and sometimes glitter because he’s a twink and knows it, and even though he gets all the tops in the place hot and bothered he’ll swear up and down that he’s never danced on top of a bar and never plans to. He’s actually quite faithful to the aforementioned older friends, to the extent that he may list himself as in a relationship on hookup apps even if he’s not technically dating any of them. Likely feels this way toward the guy who took his virginity, specifically. Still a little willowy to really bottom well, and with his intellectual interests and career aspirations that’s unlikely to change much as he gets older. Maybe once he hits college the freshman fifteen will give him a little more cushion. Expect to see him settled down and at “we only play together” status a few years down the line…unless the object of his precocious affections happens to be looking elsewhere, in which case expect to find him one night bent over a desk by one of his professors.

His entire personality may be perfectly summed up by the word “surly.” He expresses non-verbal interest often on apps (i.e. he’s a “serial woofer”) but never initiates conversation, and on the rare occasions that he goes out he’s the type to hang out against the wall by himself nursing a beer and watching the crowd. He almost never responds to attention either, though he’s got a hidden soft spot for wide-eyed types who seem just as out of place as he is. As might be expected of a guy who rarely hooks up and whose idea of a good sex partner is just that - an idea - he feels more comfortable pleasuring himself in solitude than in performing the act itself. It’s a shame, too, because he’s got a pretty nice dick and naturally high skill and stamina to put it to work. He’s even bottomed a few times though he’s loathe to say he liked it, not because he’s got any problems with that but because his sex life is one of the many things he never likes to talk about.

His profile is fully descriptive but not all that interesting - looking for friends and good conversation, not willing to hookup or jump into anything too quickly, goal-driven but not pushy, and so on. He’s the perfect guy to bring home to your mother, and on the surface he really does seem as dull as that entails. However, he’s benefited from a surprisingly thorough education courtesy of an older friend and longtime community member, and after he’s gone on a few dates and gotten comfortable with someone he’d be more than happy to show off everything he’s learned. Fully vers but still inexperienced with taking charge in the bedroom, he’ll be happy to follow his partner’s desires wherever they may lead. Quite a nice package too; it’ll be worth the wait to see it since he doesn’t take naughty selfies as a rule. At or just before his eventual wedding he’ll introduce his new spouse to his friend, a meeting that will lead to many warm and companionable nights together that may optionally end in orgies.

By all appearances he’s your average clean-cut mild-to-wild twenty something, looking for casual dates and maybe a little fun while he finishes up school or ascends his chosen career ladder. He has a weakness for younger guys though…including those who are clearly falsifying their ages to be on the apps in the first place. It’s no big deal now - who doesn’t understand the appeal of a twink who knows how to work it? - but in a decade or so he’ll be decidedly in creepy sexual predator territory. As his current trajectory seems to be setting him up for a high profile position it’s probably best to stay away or risk being caught up with him when the shit hits the fan, but then again he could find himself a nice stable boy to date and settle into the comfortable and mostly-monogamous role of sugar daddy. His biggest fantasies involve electroshock kink, so his greatest challenge will be finding a twink who’ll get into that too.

Still bears the remnants of a tragic emo phase that he hasn’t quite left, but to his credit he can take (some) jokes about his weird hair and makeup choices. Pot and hallucinogens used to be his scene, but he’s been trying to get clean for a little while now. Unfortunately he’s still the type of guy who’s best dealt with through a phone or in the dark and smoky atmosphere of a bar, because he smells horrendous up close. Hookups are surprisingly fun though they come with the challenge of sneaking into whatever sober living community he currently calls home, and with that environment if he’s hit it off with anyone there odds are things will get awkward if he’s discovered playing the field. He’s quite aware that he’s not boyfriend material in any sense to anyone who’s not as screwed up as he is, but he’ll still smile and give his partners a warm hug and a reminder to come back anytime after they’ve gotten dressed. He just really appreciates the company. Has an interesting selection of cock rings, up to and possibly including a Prince Albert.

His selfies surprise in their quality and variety, and it takes only one meeting with this guy to figure out that the serious tone of his profile regarding community outreach and sex positivity belies his dark sense of humor and even darker bedroom proclivities. He’s enjoyed the company of numerous call boys and amateur porn stars and will let anyone know it, though he’s not enough of a dick to be the kind to expect that level of performance from anyone. All the same he’ll be more engaged in conversation with a guy he can sense is experienced, as he doesn’t get much out of training untried virgins (or claims he doesn’t, anyway). Can go either way - he loves to take bottoms hard and fast just as much as he loves to take huge uncut cocks (more than one at a time if he can get it) himself. He’s by no means hardcore femme, but he wears the reclaimed labels of effete gay stereotypes with pride and won’t hesitate to throw them in anyone’s faces if they take issue with that. It’s doubtful anyone’s seriously looking to date him given how rough around the edges he can seem, but he’s got a little something lowkey romantic on the side of all the wild fucking so he doesn’t much care if his unconventional life choices raise any eyebrows.

His marriage is happy in spite of its conventionality, and he only found himself making a profile on the apps after he shared with his wife the story of the college roommate he had a massive crush on but never had the courage to approach. He’s just as painfully earnest online about his situation: he’s just looking to experiment with something he’s not yet experienced outside of his own fantasies and the occasional foray into the equivalent porn. Can’t take a selfie for the life of him and his looks are just starting to go - maybe he’ll try growing a beard at some point once he learns about bears and such - but there are still a few friendly and open-minded men willing to take him up on his offer of mutual masturbation and possibly some oral. Anal play of any kind is still a pipe dream for the moment, but one has to give him points for trying…and his wife for being so understanding, even if after cumming with someone he might quietly intimate that things weren’t always so peaceably open between the two of them. Never blocks anyone, but all his hookups tend to forget about him shortly thereafter anyway. His wildest dream involves meeting his roommate again somehow, having a few drinks and seeing where the night takes them, but what are the odds of that?

He may no longer be on active duty, but he maintains the strict sense of duty and regimentation that comes with the “military” tag on his profile (though this clearly does not extend to his personal grooming). Is one of those guys who’s really into exotic pets, but at least his favorite reptiles are low-maintenance and won’t interrupt foreplay by demanding cuddles. Shies away from rough types like himself, preferring the company of twinks who love to ogle his biceps and make him feel needed and important even if it’s just for the few minutes it takes for him to fuck them to an explosive prostate orgasm. Tends to get wistful after sex, and some prodding will reveal that he’s still holding a candle for someone he knew back in his service days who ended up marrying someone else. It’s exactly the sort of thing to ward off more vapid partners from looking for repeat visits, but a sufficiently sensitive touch may just be able to help him move on and turn him into long-term relationship material. The dick alone would be worth it.

Is a known regular at every bar, strip club, and urgent care center (for gonorrhea, and hopefully nothing worse) in the area. Perpetually drunk, frequently high, and willing to hit on anything that moves, even high school students if he thinks he can get away with it. His hookup space is casually enticing for seekers of NSA, and he’s got a fully-stocked album and a range of videos showcasing everything on offer. Likes to manspread in public to show off the goods, not that he’s packing anything huge down there. Similarly, when not performing for the camera his skill in bed is more imagined than actual, even on the rare occasions when he’s actually sober. When he’s not indulging his vices he’s busy composing filthy poems of questionable quality and writing half-formed sentences for a novel that may surprise everyone by actually getting written one day, assuming he doesn’t OD or get himself murdered first. No one knows what he does for a living and he’s not telling; the best guess anyone has is that he’s a humanities major dropout and either a trust fund baby or a prostitute. Possibly both.

Never uses a face pic and gives out a pseudonym when asked, which he explains by telling guys that he’s a politician. Dreams of silk sheets and caviar and a media circus should things go south are quickly dashed before the first date even begins however, because in fact what he really means is that he’s a working-class aspiring politician with a massive chip on his shoulder and a hunger to work his way up through whatever menial government post he can manage. Resents anyone with more money than him and will angrily rebuff offers of compensation for his time *ahem*, and the sex that he does have is stiff and almost never ends in orgasm for anyone. Very few guys will come back for seconds, particularly since his political views lead toward establishment conservatism and as such he’s almost certainly got some internalized homophobia he’s making a powerful effort to ignore. Everyone may at least take comfort in the fact, should he ever actually get elected anywhere, his stubbornness and various neuroses will ensure that he’s terrible at the job.

Forget about asking for stories of wild nights in the seminary, because he’s always been a priest on a mission. He’s not on any hookup apps and rarely goes drinking, but he’s met his share of guys nonetheless doing community outreach or missionary work. Is usually too busy and too dedicated to even consider being fun in bed, but he’s not bad to look at for a little clerical fantasizing and makes for a fascinating conversationalist for all manner of theological and philosophical discussion. His political sympathies are just slightly radical for his order so it’s not entirely out of the question that he might one day be tempted to indulge himself, but lacking experience it would mostly come down to affectionate cuddling and cute fumbling with the logistics of the serious stuff. No one could keep up with his lifestyle of wandering service, but he doesn’t mind since he can make sincere friendships and encourage guilty boners wherever he may happen to find himself.

By a combination of good fortune and deliberate cultivation he’s a near exact likeness for a celebrity much lusted-after by the gay community at large, a point that he exploits to his advantage whenever possible. Protects himself from the possibility of lawsuits and the strong likelihood that his doppelgänger is straight by using the classic headless torso and genitalia close-up approach to serve for introductions and only agreeing to discreet NSA hookups in semi-public places. He can only maintain the façade in the digital space however, as anyone who meets him in person will instantly note that he sounds and acts nothing like the man he’s impersonating. He’s unskilled and clumsy during sex, but bizarrely he makes for an excellent teacher and has successfully helped many a hapless kid hone his technique at topping or giving head or taking a dick…or a dildo rather, since he can’t be relied upon most of the time to aim himself properly. His world will implode if he’s one day rebuffed by a guy who claims adamantly that he’s not who he says he is because the actual celebrity’s dick is bigger - and he’s got the photographic evidence to back it up.

Seems innocuous at first glance, a kindly older bear with some mildly interesting conversation and a handful of tame pictures of himself at home or out with friends to offer. He’s been through some rough patches but lives quietly and comfortably now, and while he’s a bit past his prime he’s easily pegged as a dream daddy, with or without sugar. It’s after the night’s wearing on and the foreplay has moved into a horizontal position that a major problem presents itself - this man will not cum. Suck him until your jaw locks, ride him until even he can’t handle the strain anymore, tongue him and fuck him until you can’t stay hard, leave hickeys all over his neck, massage his balls, nipples, ass, feet, and wherever else he can think to point out…nothing will get him off. It’s not because he doesn’t want to and isn’t trying either, but whether it’s because the years have taken their toll on him, he was never very sexual to begin with, or he has a crippling porn addiction you’d practically need to host a sixteen-man orgy with the wildest, dirtiest fucking anyone could conceive in order to get him to blow his load. He’s bound to lose interest eventually in anyone who can’t satisfy him in bed too, so there goes those ideal daddy fantasies. Would it even be worth all that effort, though?

He’s very well known for his charisma and presence, and not just to the local community. He makes friends easily on apps not by trading pictures but by engaging in extended, thought-provoking conversations that get gently steered away from sex at every opportunity. Larger than life he may seem, but he tends to underwhelm on a first real meeting; he’ll come across as aloof and distracted, and he doesn’t seem to have a very good grasp on how to progress a relationship beyond cocktails and warm glances. Presumably he’s never had much in the way of sexual mentorship, but whatever the explanation don’t expect too much from him once his clothes finally come off. Oh, he’s surely very well-endowed and well-formed in general, but it would be better to look elsewhere if you’re in search of someone who actually knows how to put his good genes to work. He’s got a nice selection of toys though, particularly for anal play, so those might work as bedroom icebreakers.

He’s downright grungy from the state of his appearance and the dingy backdrops of his selfies, enough to where the aged bad boy charm might not even be enough to carry him. He spends his life floating from one dive bar to the next, a recovering something or other who’s fallen off the wagon so many times it’s a wonder he’s not dead in a ditch. He’s even paying child support for a kid or two, a result of either youthful experimentation or genuine bisexuality that was poorly thought-out regardless of its cause. Skilled and domineering in bed, but won’t be into breeding guys since he’s just now learning to be responsible with condom usage…not that those will stop him from occasionally passing on his crabs or his herpes. He’ll never be a reliable father, husband, or partner on any level, but under his gruff exterior there are a wealth of stories to be teased out of him during whatever pillow talk he’ll allow, poignant and bittersweet and most shockingly of all reaching back to a past life of wealth and privilege when he was (comparatively) sober and washed his clothes more than once a year.

#Fire Emblem #Jugdral #FE5 #Joke post

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almightygodismydependence-blog · 6 years ago

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There Are Actually Principles for Making Offerings to God （part 2）

Sister Yang went on to fellowship: “Sister Li, according to the principles for making offerings, although offering our possessions is a duty and an obligation that every one of us should perform, it must be practiced according to whether or not we understand the truth and whether or not we are willing to do it. This is because God doesn’t want us to offer money externally, and it is not the case that God blesses whoever offers the most. What God wants is our hearts, not our momentary impulses or temporary enthusiasm. If, because we understand His will and experience His salvation of us, we then want to repay God’s love, pray and seek many times, and make offerings willingly and gladly without the intention of gaining God’s blessings, then this is the only kind of offering God will accept. If we do not seek His will, but just offer a lot of money without really being willing to do so, then we will one day come to regret it, and God does not accept this kind of offering. God’s house therefore requires that if people do not understand the truth and cannot bring themselves to be willing to make offerings, then they must not make offerings, for God does not compel people to do anything that is against their will. Right now, you’ve only just entered the church and you don’t yet understand many truths. You must focus on reading God’s words diligently and, after you’ve understood the truth, then you can make offerings according to the principles of the truth, and only when we do things this way will God remember it. Moreover, within The Church of Almighty God, no one, no matter who they are, may use any excuse to appeal to people to make offerings. If they do, then they are people who are harboring wrong intentions, and they will be dealt with, disciplined and warned. Leaders and workers who persist in appealing to people to make offerings will be replaced. Furthermore, the money offered by brothers and sisters is an offering made to God, not to any one person in particular, and no one may privately accept an offering made by brothers and sisters or take the liberty of using it themselves. If someone secretly steals any offering, then they are a Judas, and in serious circumstances, they will be expelled from the church.”

Amazed, I said: “The Church of Almighty God is indeed different from religion. In order to make an offering, one has to understand the truth, and there are all these principles and stipulations. This is something that can only be done by people who have God in their hearts and who fear God, and it is something I have never seen in religion. Thinking of the time I spent in religion, the pastors simply didn’t care whether we were new believers or veteran believers, or whether we understood the truth or not. They just kept appealing to the brothers and sisters to make offerings, saying that God took delight in people’s offerings, and that only those who offered a lot were considered praiseworthy by God. The pastors preaching to us in this way led us all astray, and made us think wrongly that the more we offered, the greater the blessings we would receive. So in order to get the pastors to like us and to earn God’s praise, many brothers and sisters ended up offering their money, and little did we realize that all our offered money would eventually be grafted away in the name of all manner of things by the pastors and elders. It was such a dirty trick for the pastors to do this—wasn’t this just the same as when Judas stole offerings? The consequences of doing this are so serious! Today, The Church of Almighty God does not permit its members to appeal to people to make offerings, and there are also principles for offering. The church first asks people to understand the truth, and then it allows them to make offerings. If anyone dares to privately misappropriate or squander offerings, then a corresponding punishment is meted out to them according to the situation. The Church of Almighty God truly is fair and just, and the truth is in power! Sister Yang, I’m already certain that Almighty God is the returned Lord Jesus, and my offering is made most willingly, so please take it!”

Sister Yang spoke gently, saying: “Sister Li, if our offerings are made sincerely, we still have to practice prayer several times in accordance with principles, for only when we are sure not to regret it and our actions are pure can the offering be acceptable. Moreover, I cannot myself take your money, for there are also principles for the taking of money. Let’s see what the principles say: ‘Any leader, worker or evangelist of the church must not accept offerings directly from brothers and sisters alone. There must be at least two people to accept the offering together, and a receipt must be given to the brother or sister who made the offering as proof that the money has been transferred to God’s house. All transactions that involve passing money to a senior level of the church must be done by two people together. The money must not be carried by one person alone…’ (‘Administrative Principles for Managing and Using the Money of God’s House’ in Selected Annals of the Work Arrangements of The Church of Almighty God). Sister Li, God knows us like the palm of His hand. He knows that we have been corrupted so deeply by Satan and that we all have greedy natures, and that our lust for money is particularly strong. Therefore, the church stipulates that when an offering of money is being taken, it must be handled by two people so that they may supervise one another—this is God’s protecting us! Right now, I am on my own, and this does not conform to the principle of taking an offering. In a few days, I and the person in charge will come back together to take it—only practicing in accordance with principles earns God’s praise.”

Hearing the sister speak, I said: “That’s fine. I never realized that The Church of Almighty God would have so many strict principles and requirements about just offering some money. It really is so different from the world of religion, and so different from any department or organization found in society! I see that the requirements of God’s house are all there to protect people, and that the truth is indeed in power within The Church of Almighty God.”

Sister Yang was much moved, and said: “That’s right! Almighty God has come in the last days to work and He expresses millions of words. All these words are the truth, they tell people all the truths they need in order to attain salvation, and they allow people to have the principles of the truth in their every action and deed and to live out a true human likeness. Almighty God says: ‘First, for the sake of your fate, you ought to seek to be approved by God. That is to say, since you acknowledge that you are numbered among the house of God, you ought then to bring peace of mind to God and satisfy Him in all things. In other words, you must be principled in your actions and conform to the truth in them. If this lies beyond your ability, then you shall be detested and rejected by God and spurned by every man. Once you have fallen into such a predicament, you cannot then be counted among the house of God. This is what it is meant by not being approved by God’ (‘Three Admonitions’ in The Word Appears in the Flesh). From God’s words, we realize that we must seek the truth in all matters and handle them with principle in our belief in God, and this is the condition for meeting with God’s approval. We must hold to all of the requirements God has for us, for only in this way will we win God’s protection. Therefore, God requires that we must accept the truth and practice the truth in our belief in Him, and handle all matters according to the principles of the truth, for only by doing this will we conform to His will and earn His praise. Otherwise, we will be detested and rejected by God and spurned by all other people. Sister Li, all the truths expressed by Almighty God are what we need, and as long as you read the words of Almighty God, you will come to understand even more principles of the truth.”

After listening to Sister Yang’s fellowship, I thought again of the time I’d spent believing in the Lord in religion. Every church had its own offering box, and the pastors often preached sermons to make people offer their money, and whoever offered the most was held in high esteem by the pastors. When offering money, we would just place it in the offering box; there were simply no principles to making offerings, much less did we ask for any receipt, and so most of the offered money ended up being pocketed by the pastors and the elders. But The Church of Almighty God is different. Regardless of whether someone is making an offering or receiving money, there are principles to follow, and this really widened my knowledge and broadened my horizons. When I heard Sister Yang refuse my offering, I didn’t understand. But now having read the principles of offering money and heard her fellowship about God’s words, I understand that Sister Yang was acting in accordance with the principles of the truth, and was acting entirely in accordance with God’s will. The whole world has now been so corrupted by Satan that it is at its zenith of darkness and evil; the saying “Everyone for himself and the devil take the hindmost” has become people’s motto for their lives, everyone worships money, and everywhere has become saturated with the exchange of money and power. Every group thinks of ways to make money, and even relief funds donated to areas struck with disaster are embezzled by greedy officials abusing their authority. But now I see that only The Church of Almighty God is a pure land. Almighty God Himself expresses the truth to provide for people, so that they may seek and understand the truth in the course of performing their duties, act in accordance with the principles of the truth, and thereby gain the truth, obtain life and live out a true human likeness—this really is the work of the true God! I wish to earnestly follow this path of faith in God and pursue the truth, so that I may handle matters with principle, and attain the salvation of Almighty God.

Recommended : 4 Principles on How to Be Closer to God

#The Gospel of the Kingdom of Heaven #Welcoming the Lord’s Return

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mojrim · 5 years ago

Link

The plutocrats have forgotten everything FDR taught them.

~text because of paywall~

Remember when pundits used to argue that Elizabeth Warren wasn’t likable enough to be president? It was always a lazy take, with a strong element of sexism. And it looks ridiculous now, watching Warren on the campaign trail. Never mind whether she’s someone you’d like to have a beer with, she’s definitely someone thousands of people want to take selfies with.

But there are some people who really, really dislike Warren: the ultrawealthy, especially on Wall Street. They dislike her so much that some longtime Democratic donors are reportedly considering throwing their backing behind Donald Trump, corruption, collusion and all, if Warren is the Democratic presidential nominee.

And Warren’s success is a serious possibility, because Warren’s steady rise has made her a real contender, maybe even the front-runner: While she still trails Joe Biden a bit in the polls, betting markets currently give her a roughly 50 percent chance of securing the nomination.

But why does Warren inspire a level of hatred and fear among the very wealthy that I don’t think we’ve seen directed at a presidential candidate since the days of Franklin Delano Roosevelt?

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On the surface, the answer may seem obvious. She is proposing policies, notably a tax on fortunes exceeding $50 million, that would make the extremely wealthy a bit less so. But delve into the question a bit more deeply, and Warren hatred becomes considerably more puzzling.

For the only people who would be directly affected by her tax proposals are those who more or less literally have more money than they know what to do with. Having a million or two less wouldn’t crimp their lifestyles; most of them would barely notice the change.

At the same time, even the very wealthy should be very afraid of the prospect of a Trump re-election. Any doubts you might have had about his authoritarian instincts should have been put to rest by his reaction to the possibility of impeachment: implicit death threats against whistle-blowers, warnings of civil war and claims that members of Congress investigating him are guilty of treason.

And anyone imagining that great wealth would make them safe from an autocrat’s wrath should look at the list of Russian oligarchs who crossed Vladimir Putin — and are now ruined or dead.

So what would make the very wealthy — even some Jewish billionaires, who should have a very good idea of the likely consequences of right-wing dominance — support Trump over someone like Warren?

in STYLN_email_trump-0_control_STYLN_email_trump

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There is, I’d argue, an important clue in the “Obama rage” that swept Wall Street circa 2010. Objectively, the Obama administration was very good to the financial industry, even though that industry had just led us into the worst economic crisis since the 1930s. Major financial players were bailed out on lenient terms, and while bankers were subjected to a long-overdue increase in regulation, the new regulations have proved fairly easy for reputable firms to deal with.

Yet financial tycoons were furious with President Barack Obama because they felt disrespected. In truth, Obama’s rhetoric was very mild; all he ever did was suggest that some bankers had behaved badly, which no reasonable person could deny. But with great wealth comes great pettiness; Obama’s gentle rebukes provoked fury — and a huge swing in financial industry political contributions toward Republicans.

The point is that many of the superrich aren’t satisfied with living like kings, which they will continue to do no matter who wins next year’s election. They also expect to be treated like kings, lionized as job creators and heroes of prosperity, and consider any criticism an unforgivable act of lèse-majesté.

And for such people, the prospect of a Warren presidency is a nightmarish threat — not to their wallets, but to their egos. They can try to brush off someone like Bernie Sanders as a rabble-rouser. But when Warren criticizes malefactors of great wealth and proposes reining in their excesses, her evident policy sophistication — has any previous candidate managed to turn wonkiness into a form of charisma? — makes her critique much harder to dismiss.

If Warren is the nominee, then, a significant number of tycoons will indeed go for Trump; better to put democracy at risk than to countenance a challenge to their imperial self-esteem. But will it matter?

Maybe not. These days American presidential elections are so awash in money that both sides can count on having enough resources to saturate the airwaves.

Indeed, over-the-top attacks from the wealthy can sometimes be a political plus. That was certainly the case for F.D.R., who reveled in his plutocratic opposition: “They are unanimous in their hate for me — and I welcome their hatred.”

So far Warren seems to be following the same playbook, tweeting out articles about Wall Street’s hostility as if they were endorsements, which in a sense they are. It’s good to have the right enemies.

I do worry, however, how Wall Streeters will take it if they go all out to defeat Warren and she wins anyway. Washington can bail out their balance sheets, but who can bail out their damaged psyches?

#warren #elizabeth

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