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prettytoxicrevolver · 3 years

Text

Mine | Anthony Beauvillier

Requested? Always... by me

Warnings? None?

Summary: You reflect on your relationship with Tito

Word Count: 1,516

Italic parts are flashbacks as always

Tangled in the arms of the man you love, your eyes wander across his features. You smile as your eyes fall over his full eyelashes, the curve of his lips, the tiny dimple in his cheek. Your heart filled and filled and filled looking at Beau. Like a waterfall cascading down over the same smooth rocks, Beau’s love was familiar, perfect, and never-ending.

“Hey,” Beau says and your eyes drag up to his, the shiny blues staring down at you.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Your mind had wandered back and forth a bit, thinking about random things but mostly remaining on the beautiful boy before you.

“Remember when we first met?” You ask and Beau shakes his head, an embarrassed smile slipping onto his lips.

“Hello ladies, welcome to dockside what can I-“

Beau paused his usual spiel as he finally looks up to see who he’s greeting. His heart seizes in his chest and moves to his throat making it hard to speak.

You were the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen. Every feature, every detail about you struck him instantaneously. And he quickly realized how long he had been standing there staring at you in awe.

“Can I get you anything to start?” he finishes, his eyes flickering to you over and over.

Beau was in agony the entire time waiting on you. He stumbled over his words, nearly dropped drinks, plates, with one look of the eye he had been captivated by you instantaneously. His mind was on you the entire time, wanting to talk to you, know you, he already started falling and he didn’t even know your name.

By the time dinner is over, Beau watches as you should be heading out with your friends but you tell them you’ll meet them at the car. He watches as your head swivels, looking for something or someone. When you look in his direction though, you stop and start to walk towards him.

He’s frozen as he watches you walk, nerves and wonder in his eyes. When you reach him you offer a dazzling smile.

“Hi,” you say and Beau short circuits instantly. “You were my waiter right?”

“Yes,” is all he can muster back.

“Thank you for the excellent service,” you wink at him before handing a piece of paper to him, bounding off to your friends.

Beau could only watch you leave, shell shocked by your interaction. He eventually shakes himself out of it, pulling open the paper he gave you. His mouth drops open when he sees your name and number scrawled across in neat handwriting.

“Can you believe it?” you ask reminiscing on the best night of your life.

“God I was so nervous around you,” he admits and you grin widely up at him.

“I didn’t believe in love back then. I never thought it would turn into this,” you tell him and he smiles softly at you.

You sit outside, relaxed back on your porch as you wait for Beau to pick you up. It was what you were pretty sure was your fifth official date, in between all of the little hangouts and the facetime calls.

Finally, his truck roars to a stop in front of your house and you find yourself bounding over to it. You swing open the door, launching yourself into the passenger seat before turning to look at Beau. He’s already staring at you, utter awe and wonder on his face, and before either of you can say anything he’s driving off.

You end up at a restaurant on the water, and after eating too much and laughing too loud you head out to the nearest pier. Beau tangles his hand into yours and you lean into his touch, soaking in the summer air and the cologne of the boy next to you.

He tugs at your hand till you’re sitting at the edge of the pier, legs dangling over in danger of falling in at any second. From your shoulders, all the way down you and Beau are connected, never-ending.

With a calculated thought, he slides his arm up, wrapping gently around your shoulders for the first time. You turn and look at him and he offers you that special soft smile, the one seemingly reserved for you and hidden from the rest of the world.

You kiss him until that smile is imprinted into your skin.

“Well I am quite persuasive,” Beau says, still reminiscing.

“Shut up,” you joke.

“Move in with me,” Beau is all wide eyes and hard-set determination.

“What?” you ask, wanting to make sure you heard him right.

“Live with me. I want to come home to you every day.”

You cant even find the words, the words that you never thought would want to surface after everything you had been through. And yet here you were.

You jump straight into his arms, the hockey player catching you with ease and wrapping you up into his arms. He already feels like home.

The next morning you wake up in a haze of smiles and tangled limbs and having no earthly idea what’s going to happen next to you two. Beau is already awake, memorizing the lines of your eyes and the curve of your lips, and the way you snore. He’s whipped.

“You hesitated last night,” he speaks softly.

You turn and look at him, and his soft eyes crawl across your face. He’s trying to understand you from the outside, knowing your emotions lie on your face.

“Did I ever tell you about my parents’ marriage?” you ask quietly and Beau shakes his head.

“My parents loved each other, but they shouldn’t have stayed together if that makes sense. They should have separated when I was a kid, but stayed together for my brother and me,” you explain softly and he takes your hand, pressing light kisses over your knuckles as you talk.

“Baby for as long as I live, that won’t be us. Okay?”

“Hey,” Beau says, pulling your attention back to him.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” he enunciates each word with a kiss to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and your lips.

“I’m gonna love you forever.”

You paced uncertainly back and forth in the living room of yours and Anthony’s apartment. He was supposed to be home after the game hours ago. But you watched as he heads to a bar and then another one and it’s left you worried and frustrated.

He had been going out a lot recently, and not that it bothered you for him to be hanging out with his friends, it’s that you didn’t know where he was. That you had been going to bed at all hours of the night and only sometimes waking up with Beau next to you.

By the time Beau shows up, it’s 2:30 am, and you’re worn thin. The door swings open, and your head whips to see him waltzing in. You’re about to say something but hold up a hand, not even knowing where to start.

“Are you okay?” you ask first, wanting to make sure everything was alright.

“I’m-I’m fine,” he stutters out and you recognize with clarity that he’s not drunk, not even tipsy.

“Okay good,” you let out a breath. “Then may I ask what the fuck you’ve been doing for the past few nights?”

Your hands fall to your hips and Beau thinks for a moment you distinctly look like your mom. All frown lines and tight lips. He never wants you to look at him that way again.

“I’ve just been out,” he tries and your arms flail out, smacking against the outer part of your thigh.

“Out?”

“With the guys,” he finishes and flinches before you even say anything.

“Beau, I can't keep doing this.”

Even if Beau wasn’t drunk he knew that one sentence would slap him sober. He takes several steps forward trying to gain some balance back, attempt to tether himself back to you, the constant anchor in his life.

“Baby,” he says brokenly.

Your face is tear-stained, fresh tears covering the tracks of the old ones. Ones he wishes he could have pushed away and promised his love was there and never-ending.

He takes another step forward but you flew past him, out the door, and towards the street. You didn’t know where you were going at the moment, but just knew you couldn’t be near Beau right now.

Just as you pause, a sob leaving your lips you feel a hand on your wrist turning you around to face him. Another sob works its way out of you and you raise your hands, only to drop them in defeat.

Beau pulls you into his chest and you cry against him. He rubs your back, whispering into your hair. Finally, you come to a halt and look up at Beau.

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“You’re the best thing that has ever been mine,” Beau whispers and you smile into his chest, a rare sun-stopping smile and Beau falls for you all over again.

“And you’re mine.”

#anthony beauvillier x y/n #anthony beauvillier x reader #anthony beauvillier fic #anthony beauvillier imagine #nhl islanders fic #islander #islanders x reader #islanders imagine

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ringmyheart · 4 years

Note

Could you do a lookism gun x reader where he’s sweet to them kinda like Mira and Zack 🥺

“You really don’t have to do that…”

The way your voice wavered betrayed your discomfited, guilt-ridden heart. You weren’t normally sheepish. Despite your weak-mannered protest, he continued to tie and knot the laces of your shoe below you. A low hum reverberated in his throat, and there was a gap in the conversation before he finished tying the laces into a bow, straightening his back but not necessarily standing yet.

“It’s fine. If I didn’t notice, you might’ve tripped.” The corners of his lips didn’t lift or falter, yet his countenance was still sunny and bright. Internally, you swooned, your mouth falling into an uncertain line. It’s not that you didn’t like him, no. You just felt unnecessarily rueful for being the receiver of his kindness. It’s not that tying someone’s shoes was such a grandiose act, but when done by him, it was like a leap upwards from his usual nature.

With him not having that many acquaintances or friends outside of work, you were somewhat his exposure to everything else, including anything non-business related. It felt odd for you to be this connection to the world outside of his, because you felt ill-suited for the job.

It felt like you were anchoring him down, and that his likeliness was only infatuation formed from you making yourself unattainable. You wondered if that was the case, and if you ever reciprocated the action in full, if he’d end up leaving…

The only way you could receive an answer was through actual application of this wonder in real life. Maybe, some distance would actually do the two of you good…

He stood to full height by the time you’d finished the thought process of your internal plan, and stood idly, as if awaiting your instruction. You were always deciding what you two would do, or where you’d go, and you felt even more like an anchor; a deep, heavy one, weighing him done.

With a nervous glance around the park, you gulped. “Uhm…” fiddling with your fingers, you mustered it out. “I think we should have some space in between us for a while…”

Your gaze was downcast, and with the silence engulfing the both of you, you wondered what he was emoting. Anger? Frustration? Wonder? Sadness?

“Space?”

“Yeah.”

“Space, like space? Or space, like distance?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Space is when we don’t really see each other. If you ask for space, I’d take it you want to cut contact and refrain from seeing each other for a while. Distance is when I simply distance myself from you.”

The words he’d used had a hard time processing, and you chose the option with the plainer explanation. “O-oh, Uh, distance, then.”

He gazed upwards in thought, with a ‘hm’, before looking at you quizzically, like you were asking for some alien request. “...Why?”

“I just - I need some distance to breathe for a while...” That was a lie. You saw him nod as it registered in his head.

“Okay.”

“I’m so- oh, okay?” Your visage snapped up to him in awe. That wasn’t the reaction you’d anticipated.

He nodded, grabbing your fingers with his and lifting them up and down with his. “Okay. I’ll give you some distance. That’s no problem.” His tone was chivalrous, but his face was still idle.

“Yeah, uhm-“ you weren’t sure where you were going to go with that sentence, which is why you were glad he’d began to walk away before he’d heard you utter it out. While he walked, his retreating form wasn’t slumped over, and there were no hints to him being upset over this.

“...” Well, looked like the date was over now. It rubbed you the wrong way somewhat when he didn’t express any sorrow, or even annoyance, to the two of you separating. You guessed it was for the better.

You lifted your foot to turn heel and begin to leave, when you saw Gun suddenly stop and turn to face you from a distance. Lips parting curiously, you waited for him to maybe shout something, or maybe send you one last glare or smile before walking away, but… no. He just stood there. You two engaged in eye contact from meters away, him indifferent, you bewildered.

With a twinkle, he winked and sent you a thumbs up, conveying nonchalance and a prideful, elated look at the same time.

It dawned on you. ‘By space he thinks I mean literal distance! Like, a few feet away distance!’ Your arms flailed around you in confusion. ‘What? Why would I even request that?!’

Meanwhile, across the park, Gun stared at you. He had a hard time catching on to why you needed distance, but if you needed some air - and him being so near you was disrupting that, he has no objections. Plus, he was glad this was what you’d wanted; if it was space, he didn’t know what he would’ve done.

Your arms dropped to your sides in fists, and you wondered what to do. Should you just continue the hang out…? You wondered how he’d misinterpreted it considering he was usually scarily able to catch on to everything. ‘Crap, I shouldn’t have used the word in between! This is my fault!’

At one point, he’d waved across to you from afar, but you were too engrossed in your thoughts to catch on. He sulked.

You were going to go and clear this up, when you felt a hand on your shoulder from behind you, and turned to face three strangers - all dudes, one scrawny, the other two burly.

“Hey,” the middle one said, nodding over in the direction of Gun. “Is that guy your boyfriend?” They inspected him from over here.

You felt a wave of heat rush to your face. Your hands came up to cup your cheeks, flustered. “Oh, no… it’s not like that!” You exclaimed.

The three seemed to nod amongst themselves, and you realized why they were probably here.

‘Oh, do they want to be friends with him-?!’ You beamed. ‘This is great! I was just thinking about how he’d probably like more friends outside of work!’

You grinned mischievously, happily ready to introduce them. ‘Cant let them know he’s kind of scary, I was off out by that when I first met him… I’ll make him seem super sweet!’ You glanced over at Gun over your shoulder with a glitter in your eyes. ‘I won’t ruin this for you!’

“Well then, is he your friend?”

You nodded vigorously. “Yep! Friend! He’s a great friend. If anyone else happened to want to be friends with him, they’d be in for a great time!” You said, conspicuous.

The three guys seemed pleased by your answers so far, and you felt like you were rocking it. “Hmm,” a sudden dark air surrounded you and the three guys, and finally a crooked smile curved his lips. “And this friend of yours - you guys close?”

“Hm, I’d say so.” This time, they didn’t seem too happy at your answer. You found it odd how the three men kept glancing from you to your pocket, avoiding remaining eye contact for prolonged periods of time and seemingly more invested in your pocket than you… but you brushed it off.

“Does this guy brawl? Does he have a good fighting ability?”

‘Don’t scare them off, (y/n)! If they know he fights, they might run away! Tell them he isn’t, and throw in a lie in there that paints him in a good light! Maybe say he has a book collection? That kind of stuff doesn’t make anyone seem off putting.’

Your fists came to your chest as you excitedly ranted about him in a positive light, the three guys waiting on the balls of their feet for your answer. His eyes briefly darted to your pocket again, and you asked yourself why - it was just your wallet in there.

“No, he doesn’t have a good fighting capability at all! In fact, he’s really bad at it! He’d never get into a fight! But he does have-“

Rob. They were going to rob you. Why you finally realized it mid-sentence was beyond you, but the entire conversation recited itself in your head as well as their weird mannerisms, and you realized you were about to get mugged.

You leaned down and tried to emit an aura as threatening as you possibly could, changing the course of your sentence suddenly. “-skills. A very particular set of skills. Skills that make him a-“

“Hahaha! So you figured it out, huh? Don’t think we’re so easily fooled, you already answered us!” The ringleader of the group, you assumed, chuckled, the pick in his mouth sticking up. “Too late to change your answer now. Doesn’t matter how much that guy likes you,” he pressed his hand against your shoulder and pushed you back, “there’s not a thing he can do now. Cough it up.” He made a come hither motion with his hand, meaning your wallet, and you pointed over your shoulder to Gun as a last resort.

“You don’t wanna mess with that guy.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m serious - he kills people.”

You whipped your head over your shoulder, turning to Gun with eyes screaming for help. He must’ve seen this all go down, right?! And he knew what the gait of someone looking to mug you was like, right?!

‘Cmon, show them the expression of someone ruthless, Gun!’

You waved at him, expression full of panic and terror. When his expression became dark thanks to the natural resting bitch face he had, and he waved back, surely they’d see it was true. Right?

Meanwhile, across the park, Gun saw you pause your chatting with the three faceless people around you (albeit he was only fixated on you), just to wave at him. He raised his arm, and with an expression which screamed he was content and happy, he waved back. Earlier when he’d done it, you hadn’t reciprocated, so this made him giddy. He wondered what you were talking about... didn’t you need distance?

And you watched, horrified, when the curve of his lips titled skyward slightly.

‘He smiles?! Now he smiles?! If only I hadn’t asked for distance, this would’ve be happening…!’ A dark shadow swept across your expression. You were screwed.

You cupped your mouth with your hands. “Gun! Heeeeellppp!”

Gun merely blinked.

It seemed the distance you created between the two of you was far too great, for he couldn’t hear you. The robber behind you curled his fingers over your shoulder blade darkly, with a low chortle.

You began to wonder if you could make it if you bolted to him, but didn’t think you had the speed in you.

Eyes closed in a deep brooding, you weighed your options. You could break into a sprint, but if you didn’t make it in time you didn’t wanna take the chance. Even if you weren’t badly injured - being tackled mid-run because you were too slow... that’d just be way too embarrassing.

Well, if you started running, surely he’d see and come help you out, right?

But was he fast enough?

Your thoughts were interfered with a swift kick to your ankle, not enough to knock you over, but it certainly snapped your eyes back to the trio towering over you.

“Well? You gonna give or what?”

“We aren’t gonna wait all day.”

“Cmon, just give us your wallet and we can go! Hurry!” The last of the three seemed hasty, like he was wary for police officers or bystanders.

You wished you’d had more time to think, but the pressure put on you felt dire. Like you had to come to a conclusion fast...

Acting out on impulse, your hands defensively went to your pocket and clutched your wallet through the fabric. You narrowed your gaze. “No!”

‘He gave my like half that money! Like hell I’m giving it.’

The one in the middle chortled dryly, and nodded his head. “Alright, alright - what’s your name, kiddo?”

“Why?”

“Just spit it out, yeesh.” He scratched the back of his head in indignation.

“... (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n),” the lousy, crooked grin he’d placed on his lips fell suddenly, and he leaned towards you threateningly. “You think being stingy is cute? I’m gonna pluck your fucking eyes out.” His eyes were wide, and instilled terror. Your stance grew weaker, and you’d thought it was an exaggeration when people described someone being scared as “their legs shook,” but you were proven false when yours began to tremble beneath you.

He grabbed the pick between his teeth and pulled it out, holding it with his index and middle finger and pointing it at you warningly. He spared his surroundings a glance, seeing if there was anyone around to witness besides your weak-willed (from your description), book-loving friend.

Not a single soul was present otherwise.

You could hear the wind whistle in your head from the absolute silence and lack of people in the park, and at your lack of response (mostly due to fear,) he reiterated, placing one hand on your wavering shoulder, the other gliding his hand through the air towards you, the pick so close to you it confused your vision. You recoiled.

“Can you hear me?! I said I’d pluck your fucking eyes out-!”

A black blur obstructed your vision of the pick, originating from the side, and the situation progressed too quickly for you it to resonate with you.

The pick held by your eye went flying, and with the absolute silence erupting in the atmosphere, you could hear it land on the ground beneath you. The leg Gun had used to kick it out of his hand was still lingering in the air, and the mugger grunted.

“Yeah, I hear you all right. Loud and clear. Pluck their eyes out? (Y/n)?” He pointed to you with his thumb, “you wanna pluck their eyes out?”

Gun grabbed the hand he had on your shoulder, and plucked it off with unnecessary strength, a fear tactic.

The three were silent for a second, before the middle guy straightened up. “I’ve heard all about you, book-reader boyfriend. I’m not scared.”

Gun’s brow crinkled with his grin - this time, lifted by a sadistic pleasure. “What a coincidence,” he bumped foreheads with him, “neither am I. I’ll fucking kill you.”

The guy laughed in his face, and you saw him cringe at his breath in his face. “What are youuuuu gonna d-“

THUD

It was a rough collision when the robber fell into the ground, arms splashed out on either side of him, and by now your hands had thrown over your mouth in shock at the turn of events at least thrice.

The bottom of Gun’s heel dug into the gaps between his ribs, and the guy wrapped his hand around his ankle fruitlessly. “You’re gonna get dirt on my shirt.”

“You’re pretty unfazed.” He chimed. “You think I was kidding? Were you kidding when you said you were gonna pluck (y/n)’s eyes out? Huh? Huh?”

Now face to face with Gun, who was previously GREATLY distanced, he noticed his black sclera, and scrutinizing gaze, and the scar which tore apart the skin around his brow. And upon seeing eyes which wanted to kill him, the guy below him shuddered.

Gun’s foot lifted up, and then, a series of kicks were sent to his ribcage; and you saw him wheeze. He leaned down tauntingly, not pausing the flurry of attacks, with a large smile baring his teeth. “You wanna pluck their eyes out, huh?! I’d kill everyone in fucking Gangnam if you’d even tried!” He kept going, this time with more fervor in his kicks, and he began to press into the guys’ abdomen; and you winced behind him.

“H-hey, it’s fine now...” you said, reaching a hand out to Gun from behind, but your words fell upon deaf ears. Eventually you decided it was your responsibility to intervene, seeing the other two robbers cower and the middle guy begin to lose consciousness with lack of oxygen.

You threw your hands into Gun’s shoulders, and pulled him back. “Hey, it’s okay! If you keep going, you’re gonna kill them! You can’t have a criminal record, can you?”

Gun turned to you, expression not shifting in the slightest upon seeing your face. “... I can cover it up. I have the money and resources.” He said with disdain directed to the three.

“Well-“

“They were going to hurt you, weren’t they? Why are you interfering?”

You huffed. “I just don’t want that for you.”

The other two watched fearfully when Gun turned to face you, the air around him still dark. And if their own leader couldn’t handle that guy, what would happen to you? Interrupting him in the middle of fighting? Pulling back that monster?

It doesn’t matter how much a guy like that likes you, when they’re doing what they take joy in - shedding blood, it never ended well.

They winced in preparation for whatever would happen next, expecting to see you go flying like their leader had. They shuddered, after that they’d be next... right?

“... Okay. Let’s go.”

“WH-WHAAA?!” Their jaws dropped in unison when Gun pivoted on his heel, and began to walk, expecting you to follow behind him. However as soon as his foot stepped out, he faltered.

“Ah. Ow.” He said with a dead voice.

Your brow furrowed concernedly. “Are you okay?”

Now by his side, you saw him glance at his ankle. “Yeah.” He cursed under his breath. “I think I twisted my ankle doing that... ah, shit.” He plainly groaned, no real hint to him being in any pain in his voice.

“Are you gonna be alright? Oh, no.” You said, and he looked at you with a blank expression.

“Yeah. You’re gonna have to help me, now...”

You nodded. “Of course!” Frantically trying to hurry, you threw his arm under your shoulder and held onto it once successful, supporting his weight with your own and unaware of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

The two watched shocked as him and you retreated so... casually, straitening their eyes at Gun. That bastard, the two thought in sync, his leg wasn’t injured at all.

Whilst the two of you walked away - him limping, he apologized. “Sorry for coming so late.”

Your eyes darted the opposite way of him, sheepish. “It’s fine... how did you not notice? I was clearly being mugged...”

“I was only focused on you. Of course I’m gonna smile if you wave at me... who do you think I am?”

You felt hot in the face, and internally swooned, but externally huffed. “Oh... okay. W-well, that explains it, then. It’s fine. How did you end up finding out, then?”

“Ah,” he said. “The keywords.”

“Keywords?”

He nodded. “Yeah. If I hear your name and a threat in the same sentence, of course I’m gonna notice. ‘I’m gonna pluck your eyes out, (y/n).’ (Y/n). Pluck your eyes out.” He looked up casually. “Of course I’m gonna come if I hear something like that.”

You guffawed. “Wha- I screamed your name and you didn’t hear shit!”

“It’s different when it’s your name.” When you sent him a glare, he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

You signed. “... Thanks.”

He blinked at you, before chuckling with a half smile. “Don’t mention it. Just don’t ask for space to breathe anymore. When you’re away from me, bad things could happen.”

“U-Uh, yeah...” you scratched your cheek with your free hand. “I won’t anymore. Especially after today.”

There was a natural lull in the conversation as you helped him home, until he simpered evilly. “Sooo... ‘book-reading boyfriend?’ Boyfriend?”

From behind, like a happy dog with his tail wagging, even from the distance the two robbers could sense the elated feeling emanating from Gun.

This was very fun to write nd I tried rlly hard to make their dynamic like zach’s and mira’s but can’t tell if I could. I rlly hope u liked it!! Thanks for the request 💘

#Lookism x reader #webtoon x reader #Gun x reader #Lookism Gun

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secret-rendezvous1d · 4 years

Note

reader cant fall asleep so spencer stays up with her until she does😌😌

I’m soft for this kind of Spencer-

Nightmares.

Whatever it was that made them happen; whoever made them a common thing to worry over; why she had to experience them after something terrifying, she hated whatever and whoever was at fault for them.

She had had her fair share of nightmares in her lifetime - the classics that came after horror movies, the usual ones that came after reading something terrifying, the rather odd and extremely specific ones where nothing particularly occurred and came because she hadn’t had one in a while - but no nightmare had ever recurred as much as the one that currently kept her awake at night.

Working for the FBI and being hired to work in the BAU had brought to light the gruesome things that some people would do because of a childhood that went wrong or a mentality that dipped after a stressor affected them worse, and she knew that when she signed up for the job (and it wasn’t like the rest of the team had explained that nightmares happened) and Spencer had given his own word of expertise because nightmares had been his thing back in the early days of him starting as an agent, but she never expected them to be so detailed and so true to the point.

She hated how it was occurring more often than she had hoped. Every night or every time she closed her eyes or every single time she tried to sleep or tried to take a nap, her mind couldn’t clear from what she had been brainwashed with by these nightmares. She assumed Spencer would help her like he usually did... when she was having a bad day and a cuddle from him helped calm her down, a hug seemed to relax her for a brief moment before she was thrown back into work, a forehead kiss took her away for a second before she was thrust back into looking at crime scene images, and taking her away from the hustle and bustle of a P.D meeting helped to separate her work mind and the part of her mind that tried to push it away. Except, everything he did to help just didn’t help her, at all.

“You’re going to fall asleep at some point, you know? Your body will just give in and gave up the strength to stay awake.”

He flicks on the lamp standing tall on his bedside table and rolls onto his side to take a look at her, her figure sat up on the mattress with her knees held close to her chest and her arms keeping them there, chin dipped down to her chest but barely hiding the black bags and the sleep that as begging from her features.

“How?”

“How what?”

“How do I fall asleep, Spence? How can I stop seeing this nightmare?” She has a hint of exhaustion in her words, like she was begging for an answer to help her sleep at night, and he can’t help but feel broken by how desperate she had been for something to relieve her, “I can’t sleep when all I can is-”

She sighs heavily and interrupts her own sentence and he leans his weight on one elbow, using his other hand to reach up and rest upon her knees, fingers soft against her skin as he drew soothing shapes into her kneecap.

“Is what?”

This was the first time she’d even dabbled in speaking about what had been in her nightmare and he was no stranger to how she was feeling; he didn’t dare speak about going to therapy or tell her to speak to a psychiatrist because she was already strong set on dealing with it herself and she had told him and she made him promise her that he wouldn’t go behind her back and go meddling with what he thought she needed so he assured her he would stay back and be there when she needed.

“Baby, what are you seeing in these dreams?”

“Don’t call them dreams, please,” she hisses and glances at him, a frown on her face and the bags so much more prominent beneath her eyes than Spencer had expected, “they aren’t dreams, Spence. How can anyone consider this a dream? It’s-”

An exasperated sigh escapes her mouth and he retreats his hand from her so he could sit up beside her, the cover falling from his body and his white t-shirt was bunched at his hips as he sat up and copied her stature. The headboard hard against his back, the mattress squeaking underneath his weight as he moved a little closer to her, her warmth barely warm but he could feel her beside him.

“What are you seeing? Tell me and I can help you.”

Minutes pass, silent minutes where all he could hear was her ragged breathing and where all she could hear was his gentle hums and sweet breaths that he tried to even out so he didn’t give away just how panicky he was over her and her mental state, and she debates in her mind about whether or not to tell him.

“I just see you, Spence,” she whispers into the silence and cranes her neck to look at him, “dead. I see you dead. Ever since Haley died, and we had to work that case and go to her funeral and see Hotch break and- and how we had to deal with the aftermath. We said goodbye to her at a funeral and-”

Her voice cracks and Spencer can’t help but wrap an arm around her shoulder, bringing her body beneath his arm and tight to his body, and she doesn’t bat an eyelid and hides her face into the side of his ribcage, her arm slung across his stomach and her fist clenching the white tee on his body.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he hums softly, dropping his head to kiss the top of her head, “you’ve got a hard job getting rid of me, baby. I promise you, on my life, I wouldn’t ever leave you alone.”

“But, how can you be so sure?” She sobs and his breaks his heart to hear such a sound wrack from within her, “how, Spence? How?”

“Because I’ve got you to live for. You’re my reason to wake up in the morning, to go and do a good job at work, to live each day like it’s the last day on earth. It’s you that keeps me going and you’d keep me alive just because I can’t bear to leave you behind,” he keeps his eyes focused on her and in the back of his head, he hoped she would look up and notice how sincere he felt, “I’m never going to leave you like that.”

She gulps back a sob and it’s then, seconds after his hope had appeared that she would look at him, that she looks up with wet eyes and streaks down her cheeks that caught in the light of the lamp beside him.

“Besides, I’ve got a badass girlfriend who’s got my back whenever I get in any sort of trouble,” he concludes and she rolls her eyes, a wet giggle leaving her mouth, “see? Me and you, we’re a good team. I get in trouble and you come and save me from that trouble.”

She shakes her head in amusement rather that disbelief and she leans her head back against his shoulder, closing her eyes for the first time in a long time and allowing his gentle breathing and his warmth and the hold he had upon her, she felt herself drifting somewhere a little sweeter than where she would go usually.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeats him; and it dawns on him that he can’t get back to sleep until she was comfortably sleeping in a state where she wasn’t watching a death - his death - unfold before her very eyes, “I’m right here.” xx

#spencer reid chats #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fluff #matthew gray gubler imagines

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kweebtrash · 4 years

Text

StreamHearts Timestamp 11:59pm

Title: Fuck It, I Love You

Pairing: Camboy!JohnnyxCamgirlOC (Rem)

Word Count: 3.1k

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Features: established relationship not a perfect sex life, heavy size kink, soft-ish dom johnny, petnames, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.

Synopsis:

Though Rem is a smart business woman she hides behind a computer screen all day designing websites for large companies. However, when her day is done she’s still behind a computer screen but now showing the world how hard she can cum. She never wanted to be a camgirl but when financial duties called she took it upon herself to make it. The spotlight (and money) got to her and she expanded to showcasing her nerdy side; livestreams, lewd cosplay photoshoots, let’s plays, subscriptions, review, vlogs, tutorials, you name it. Her streams catches the attention of a fellow cammer, Johnny, who on a whim decided to message her. Both aren’t the sexed up dolls they pretend to be in the online life and instead ease their way into a relationship with not so perfect sex, mistakes, and total confusion.

A/N: This used to be on my Kofi which im closing down and just putting everything up on here. This isnt continuing.

Masterlist Johnny Only Masterlist

“I just want to tease the fuck out of you.” The words came out as as sultry whisper poured into my ear. His tongue trailed against the cartilage, leaving the skin heated and wet similar to the junction of my thighs. Johnny had been kissing me for god knows how long. I had become so lost in him; his words, his touch, his entire being beside me. I was helpless and unable to escape the intoxication though I never wanted to. His words, however, put me in a place of submissiveness where i feared his teasing.

“P-please don’t…” I whined as I chased his lips from a kiss he denied me. “Don’t tease me. I’ve been good.”

“Have you?” His eyes were heavily lidded, pupils dilated with oxytocin and endorphins. The thrill of my eminent destruction only added to the sparks between us yet I was dreading it entirely. “I saw what you were doing in your last stream. You got a bigger dildo, didn’t you?”

My face rushed with color as i averted my gaze. “W-well...i wanted to practice.”

“Practice for who, baby?” He smirked and pushed a few sweat drenched stray hairs away from my face.

“Y-you, of course.” We hadn’t fucked on camera yet. We had come to the consensus not to until we perfected the art of intimacy between us first. Though there was a small problem, or rather a large problem. The first few times Johnny had tried to penetrate me it was futile. The thickness of his head was no match for how small my hole was. No matter how many fingers he could attempt to fit inside me (barely two) to try and stretch me out or how much lube or cum i exerted helped. And so I took it upon myself to cast aside my six and seven inch dildos to try and accommodate for the moment where we would unite.

“Still too much, huh?” He chuckled lowly. I watched as his fingertips barely brushed against my skin as he made a ticklish trail down my stomach to the thin fabric of my panties. They slipped beneath the cotton and i instinctively spread my thighs. His middle finger pushed between my lower lips and circled my entrance languidly. “Why is my perfect princess so tiny?”

“I’m sorry,” I said with a heavy pang of guilt. I had constantly felt like I had ruined moments in our beds because my body wouldnt except him even if my mind and heart were yearning to have him so deep inside me that i could feel him in my stomach.

Johnny pressed a kiss to my forehead and smiled. “Don’t be. I love how fucking tight you are for me.”

I scrunched up my nose and pushed his face away playfully. “Don’t say such things. You make it sound pervy!”

Another chuckle. “I can’t help it sometimes.” He began to move his finger through me, gathering the wetness that had accumulated and spreading it over the most sensitive areas. “You know it turns me on to see how small you are.”

I pressed my lips together in an attempt to hide a mewl. I was lost on what I had wanted to respond with as my brain frizzled. “U-uh, um...I th-think your size kink is s-showing!” My stomach clenched when he dipped his fingertip in, alarming me. He shushed me gently, cooing at me to relax as he placed kisses and nibbles along the column of my neck.

“I got you, baby girl. You know i do.” I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled him closer together so i could bury my face in his chest. His free arm snaked around me as well, settling on my shoulders as he gauged my reactions to his minuscule thrusts. I bit down on his collarbone as I rushed to rock my hips and let him know that I was able to take more. He pushed into me deeper, curling his finger quickly in an effort to make the sound of my natural lubrication bounce off the bright pink walls of my room. “Did you get all worked up just from me kissing you?”

He was proud of himself. I could always tell in the tonality of his voice. A certain cockiness that anything he did made me wet. It stemmed from the exchange of us watching each other’s streams. I had spent hours consuming video after video of him jerking off, fucking his own ass, and doing other lewd acts that got him tips in seconds. He, on the other hand, told me that he was more captivated by the faces and sounds I made and would prefer to just watch as he fucked me. It sounded silly to say since I had thousands of viewers and I masturbated on camera but I was still a shy person who preferred to metaphorically hide their head in the sand like an ostrich. Johnny intimidated me as many a times my face would be forced towards his and i was commanded to not dare look away. His deep brown eyes would peer into my soul, eating it up like a meal and leaving me an empty husk of a woman once I orgasmed at his hands. “Shut up.” I said through gritted teeth as he halted his vibrant thrusts.

His finger left me and instead disappeared into his mouth. With a slick pop he removed all of my taste from the digit and sighed as he gave me a once over. “Take these off.” He snapped at the band of my panties that he had stripped me down to during our initial makeout session. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and wiggled them down before flicking them off my foot. Johnny spread my thighs wide, leaving me completely exposed. I went back to hiding in the crook of his neck, hoping he wouldnt notice if i distracted him with some bites. A harsh tap to my clit told me otherwise. I yelped and laid my own defensive slap against his chest. "Jerk!"

"Dont close your legs then." Johnny said sternly. I pouted, puffing out my cheeks as i rolled away from him, my arms across my chest. His large hand grabbed onto my hip and pulled me onto my back again. He didnt particularly like when i protested or became a bit bratty. A submissive princess was where he liked me to be at all times. Though now I wasnt even able to utter a word because he hooked his leg over mine, keeping my thighs separated while one hand grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head. His other hand was back to grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him. He'd be damned to hell if he didnt break that habit of mine. "The fuck did i just say?"

I flexed my fingers as i tried (and failed) to release myself from his grasp. "You said…" i looked into his eyes that had honeyed in the yellow glow of my bedside lamp. That was another weakness if mine, as if Johnny as a whole wasnt enough. His eyes in particular always destroyed me. I couldnt expressing the rest of my sentence, which was supposed to be a snarky retort, because of the intense hold he had over me. I was instead stuck nibbling at his bottom lip and whimpering for him to let me go. "I could touch you." I finally said in between small licks. "Youre hard."

"And? I get off on seeing you get off. I also get off on when youre a good girl for me."

"Liar. You love it when i misbehave. You always start moving the toys faster when i do." That was what he used when he really wanted to punish me; small dildos and vibrators in various settings and speeds, making sure i writhed and arched with every thrust.

"And what toy should i used on my babygirl tonight? What would get you all pink and squirmy for me?" He smirked and sucked my lips between his, lapping at the soft skin.

"I dont want a toy. I want you." I admitted.

Johnny sighed and pulled away from me entirely. "You know we cant. We've tried and we cant. I told you im not going to hurt you."

"I know!" I clutched onto his arm. "I know. But this time will be different. Im gonna do it."

He shook his head. "If i force it too much i could tear you. Rem, i'm seriously not going to try right now."

"Please!" I begged and looked up at him with puppy eyes. "Just one try, ok? Just one? You dont know how many times I've dreamt about you fucking me senseless. I just want you inside me so badly. I cant take it anymore."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at my persistence. "Fine. Just one try. And i mean one."

I gave him a sweet kiss and pulled him on top of me. He settled between my legs which i laid on the outside of his thighs. He stroked the smooth and sensitive skin on my inner thighs as he trailed his thumbs upwards to spread my lower lips apart. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he drunk in the sight at my slightly flexed gape. "Are you sure?" He asked.

I pushed my hand between us and gripped the outline of his cock firmly. "Johnny I don't want you, I need you."

He went to say something again but snapped his jaw shut. Quickly, he discarded his boxer briefs and guided his swollen cock towards my entrance. Seeing him throb was another part of my guilt. He would leak and swell as we romped around and yet could only get off by a blowjob or a handjob. Sometimes he would thrust between my thighs or against my ass but I knew it was just barely enough for him. His cum didn't belong splattered across my skin; it belonged inside me, filling me to the brim and keeping me warm. I closed my eyes and let every bit of tension leave my body. If I could just get the head in, it would be smooth sailing from there.

A small push threatened the barricade of my tightness. The tension returned but only for a moment. I kept it shoved aside and focused on taking in the tip. I could feel centimeter by centimeter, gauging how far he could go, and when I found the glans stuffed inside me both of us shuddered hard. I covered my mouth as soon as I let out a sharp gasp. The feeling of being stretched burned and tingled and yet I took in the discomfort with a sense of gratitude. This was the farthest we had gotten and even if this was all he could get inside it was better than nothing.

Johnny's hands were trembling as he bruised my hips in the pattern of his fingers. "J-jesus...babe." He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. Beads of sweat had gathered at his brow and it was almost like he was losing control already. "God you feel so damn good. How are you even taking me?"

I held one of his hands and brought it to my lips, kissing the back of it. "You said it yourself. You saw me practicing on camera but you didn't see what I did when I was alone." I parted my lips then and ushered in two of his fingers, sucking slowly. I circled my tongue around the tips and swallowed all the way down to the knuckle all while perfecting by bedroom eyed gaze at him. His hips snapped as his body trembled, making me wince around his fingers. He had managed to squeeze in more of his cock and even produced some minuscule thrusts that had him looking like he was already prepped to go over the edge.

He gripped harder at my hip to the point where it hurt but I knew it was a sign of pleasure and that's all I wanted to give him. I mewled around his fingers and nudged my legs a little higher to rest by his waist. The adjustment built up pressure in the pit of my stomach and made my overstretched walls clench harder. Johnny groaned deeply and begged me to ease my hold on him but I couldn't. Even when I got used to the new addition of girth I was still suctioned around him. My face flushed as I heard his groans turn into growls. The muscles in his strong arms bulged as his shoulders caved in and an unexpected heat tsunamied into me.

My eyes widened at the revelation that he had cum inside me-the first time I had ever felt the sensation. It was strange and yet because it was Johnny it also felt...cozy in a way. A warm perfection that symbolized him succumbing to everything I had wanted to give him. Though one thing was for sure, I was surprised at how quickly it happened. I let his hand go and instead held onto my tummy that I swore was bulging slightly. Johnny ran a hand over his face and pushed his hair back but as soon as our eyes caught each other his face burned beet red even to the tips of his ears. "Do you...um, do you always cum that fast when you're in someone?" I tried to ask as politely as possible.

He pulled out of me and ran straight to the bathroom, slamming the door harshly. I frowned, realizing that the small comment had hurt his pride but I had to be honest that I wanted more from him. I sat up slowly and felt a rush of cum flow out of me, thicker than I expected. Him pulling out so swiftly left me sore and on wobbly knees yet I walked over to the bathroom, trying to keep my thighs pressed together so I wouldn't make an even bigger mess. "Johnny?" I asked as I knocked on the door.

"Go away." I heard him mumble.

"Johnny, why'd you run? Was it because of what I said? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Go. Away."

I huffed and grabbed a hold of the door. I was prepared to force my way through but it wasn't locked at all. I stumbled as I stepped in and saw Johnny sitting on the toilet cover, head between his knees and arms dangling by his feet. "Johnny." I sunk to my knees in front of him. "Look at me, please."

"No." He replied, muffled.

"Johnny." I repeated, sternly this time. "What's wrong?"

"'M embarrassed." He mumbled.

"Embarrassed? How come?"

"I've never cum that fast before. Ever. I feel like a loser."

I pushed his head up gently and sighed. "Guaranteed I did want it to last longer but this was the first time you were able to thrust inside me. Maybe it was because of all that pent up energy from when you couldn't do it before. Orrrrr," I nudged his arm playfully. "I'm just that damn good."

"I don't need your cockiness now." He pouted cutely.

"It's ok, baby, really. We're still finding each other out. This is the first time anyone has cared about not hurting me. I'd take that over some idiot that would barge in any day. Please don't be embarrassed."

"Easy for you to say."

"You think I want to be this tight? Sure it sounds like a whole fantasy but being tiny sucks. I want to get railed until I can't walk but I cry as soon as something big comes near me."

"You didn't cry this time." He pointed out and I perked up instantly.

"Hey, you're right. I didn't. That's progress!" I smiled and gave him a small kiss in an effort to cheer him up a little. "And you know what this means, right?"

Johnny sat back against the toilet tank and let out an exasperated sigh. "What?"

"We can keep practicing." I rose to my feet and straddled his lap. "I know you like practicing."

Finally a twinge appeared at the corner of his mouth. He couldn't resist the thought of more touching, groping, kissing, and grinding. "Well...I guess you're right."

I peered down at his still mostly hard cock as curiously got the best of me. "You came but you're still hard?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes it takes awhile to go down. Sometimes I can squeeze another one out."

I lifted my hips and slowly sunk down on him, catching him by surprise. He jerked suddenly and held onto me tightly. "Re-Rem!"

"Maybe we can work on me taking all of you this time. And making sure you last longer."

"I-its your fault for fuckin' suffocating me!" He said through grit teeth. "Just like you're doing now!"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and grabbed a handful of his hair. "Don't tell me you cant take it, baby."

He licked his lips and fluttered his eyes shut. "You have no idea what you do to me Rem."

"You're wrong." I wiggled down more on his shaft, now about a quarter of the way down before the tingling started again. "I know exactly how you feel because you drive me crazy too. Especially now."

He buried his face in my neck, splattering kisses here and there. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

I giggled and squeezed him tight. "I love you, Johnny."

A silence fell over the room as that was also a first between us. I was afraid he wouldn't reciprocate the sentiment and felt my heart race. Now I was the embarrassed one yet I felt him smile against my collar bone. "Yeah?"

I nodded. "I-is that okay? To say that? I d-dont want to scare you off."

"I'm not going anywhere. Trust me. I love you too." I pursed my lips together to hide a squeal though I was too giddy to even think straight. I almost didn't notice Johnny standing up, myself now in his arms and our bodies remaining connected. "Can I show you how much I love you?"

"Please."

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muwur · 4 years

Note

do u think u could write something fluffy for atsumu? :D (if not, bc he just showed up in the anime, futakuchi?) nd they/them pronouns pls :3 ty ty!!!

dating headcanons

✧ hc’s ✧ for atsumu and futakuchi

❧ gn reader

✎ 1.6k words

a/n: oml my first request fgrinffej thank u anon <3 been doing sum ~research~ and brainstorming snaccing and i hope this is okay ! >:) for u i shall do both ppl hehe. feel free to lmk if you would like me to redo or add anything, i wanna do my requests justice :*)

also i find myself gettin inspo at 4 am ofhfuohf i hope this is a bit fluffy, tho its a bit playful n snarky as well fnoggrefjf. also this took me so long bc i literaly got this whole other idea LMAOOOO but i find it more suitable as a separate piece so be on the lookout for that (nudge nudge itll feature atsumu ;) i got a bit carried away AAHA). here u goo

atsumu

✧ boi’s a tease

✧ on days he stays really late to practice so like?? most days LOL you drop by a nearby eatery and pick up some fatty tuna (or something else, you like to change it up sometimes even if fatty tuna is his fave) for him to munch on (gotta replenish your body!!)

✧ even though it’s for him, he’ll make you share the food with him as you both sit on a field nearby the gym

✧ likes to feed you but exaggerates it just to mess with you

✧ “say ahh, y/n” he coos with a smirk when he holds out some food from his chopsticks

✧ and just to mess with him back, you close your mouth around the piece, taking it from the chopsticks slowly and never breaking eye contact with him until after you chew and swallow

✧ “ah, that was delicious, honey” you smile cheekily

✧ rip atsumu, he malfuncc inside

✧ however

✧ fights you for the last piece of any food or snack you’re sharing

✧ “why even offer sharing if you’re just gonna hog it all”

✧ “you were just slower than me, that’s not my problem”

✧ in the end, he would definitely just let you have it. Only fights you when hes bored and wants to provoke you, which is often

✧ pretty affectionate in public. likes to ruffle your hair or place a head on your hand, no matter what height you are

✧ especially likes to do this when you’re annoyed at him, which kinda makes it not cute anymore and you just wanna punch him in the face

✧ as annoying as he could be tho you had to admit that your bickering could be quite fun he was definitely a caring partner

✧ is quick to take notice how youre feeling, liek:

✧ “hey, are you feeling okay?”

✧ “yeah im fine, why?”

✧ “you know you dont have to lie, right? you cant hide these things, anyways, i can just tell if something’s up. what’s wrong, babe?”

✧ pulls you aside to talk things out a little, then offers to spend some time together after practice

✧ squeezes your hand as he walks you home, plants a soft kiss to your forehead before parting ways, and says goodnight

✧ he also notices any changes, no matter how small, in your appearances:

✧ *scrutinizing you* “what do you want, atsumu?”

✧ “did you do something different today? maybe like with your hair or uniform or something?”

✧ “o-oh, yeah, i did.”

✧ “hm. it really suits you, actually.”

✧ “oh, thanks. it’s such a small change, i didnt think anyone would notice--”

✧ “dont get too ahead of yourself, i didnt say it looked nice-- im kidding, im kidding!” he has to say in order to defend himself from your piercing glare

✧ lowkey highkey cant go long without seeing you

✧ so when he finally gets to spend some time with you, he’s even more touchy than usual

✧ you eye him suspiciously before saying, “you’re acting like you missed me or something”

✧ “yeah, i did miss you. something wrong with that?” he asks, burying his face in your neck as he hugs you from behind

✧ “yes, because its been two days”

✧ expect lots of kisses and hugs, though. mans is deprived and he gets what he wants (with consent, of course)

✧ makes sure everyone knows he’s there to stand up for you if necessary, which can be pretty intimidating

✧ loves it when you fall asleep on his shoulder. will take selfies with your sleeping face and show you later

✧ “you look cute even when you’re drooling all over my arm”

✧ doesn’t talk about how he sniffed or kissed your head when you were asleep. definitely doesn’t admit how he was whispering about how lucky he was to be in love with you asdfghjk

✧ was the first to admit he loved you

✧ it occurred after his team won a game to qualify for nationals. excitedly, you raced your way to meet him and tackled him in a hug. who cares if he was sweaty. “i knew you guys would win, and im so proud, atsumu.”

✧ he stumbled a bit and hugged back. he pulled away shortly to look you in the eye

✧ “y/n, i love you.”

✧ and all you could do was blush before he pulled you into a soft, yet passionate kiss

✧ surrounded by like. literally everyone lol

✧ osamu just fake gags in the background

✧ later that day:

✧ “sooooo do I get a reward for winning ? ;)”

✧ “dont push your luck”

✧ but you do spend the night just chilling at his place, watching a movie and cuddling, unwinding from a long day

futakuchi

✧ you met each other in class, bonding over how bored and sleepy you both were

✧ one day he started passing you notes and you went with along it until this class’s purpose in y’alls lives was just for goofing off and totally not to see each other’s smiles or be a bit flirty

✧ loves to mess around with you, but also thinks highly of you

✧ shortly after you started dating and met the boy’s volleyball team, moniwa asks you to please keep futakuchi in line

✧ “babe, please, you’re driving your seniors crazy”

✧ but ever since he became captain, you could sense that futakuchi seemed more responsible

✧ but poor bby was also wayyyy more tired than usual

✧ you poked his back with your pencil whenever you found him dozing off in class, just in time before he risked getting caught by the teacher

✧ you also nagged him about getting more rest and maintaining his health, doing things to help him out until he gave in and made a better attempt at taking care of himself

✧ unless you have other activities going on, you’d usually come by the gym to watch practice and then walk home with futakuchi

✧ you always bring him and his team snacks. they all love you, especially koganegawa

✧ “how are you and y/n dating, they’re so much nicer than futaku--”

✧ cant even finish his sentence before the captain smacks his head and poor kogane chokes on his snacc

✧ but les be real you also go to admire your manz

✧ on the walk home one day:

✧ “you hit a really good spike today”

✧ sheepishly scratches the back of his head, “oh, thanks. kogane’s sets are improving, so it’s getting easier to hit the ball”

✧ secretly loves and craves your praise

✧ futakuchi’s pretty down for pda. you two can often be seen walking down the aisles, hand in hand

✧ will also give you lots of pecks, especially on your cheeks and lips

✧ he also insists on helping you carry your things

✧ wants you to rely on him

✧ saw you shivering once and took his jacket off, draping it around you like nbd

✧ lets just say he wishes he coulda thought of that sooner dhqnwxhgergk youre not allowed to look this cute

✧ but now you literally keep half his closet in your house cuz he always tells you to return it whenever you want

✧ could go on dates anywhere and literally have such a good time. the night market? y’all will share foods and play games the whole time. the park? he could go for a nice, relaxing walk, or if it’s at night, he’d love to lie in the grass and admire the night sky with you (as long as you hold hands lol). at home? would totally binge some shows or movies with you, has sour gummies n a blanket ready to share hog

✧ can be a tease, but will protect you at all costs

✧ glares at anyone who looks at you with interest (boi gets jealous)

✧ had to pull you into his arms and give you a kiss to save you from getting hit on by someone from a rival school. “hey babe, i’ve been looking for you. let’s head back, everyone’s waiting.”

✧ you happily follow him, not noticing how futakuchi looks back at his now sworn-enemy and sticks his tongue out at them

✧ he will fIGHT anyone who hurts you, is very overprotective to say the least

✧ always makes sure he knows where you’re at, starts to worry a bit if you’ve gone mia

✧ got reallly worried one time when he called you like 5 times and you didnt pick up!

✧ 20 minutes later his phone rings and he picks it up immediately. “hello? y/n? are you okay?? you haven’t been answering me for a while.”

✧ “ahh, yes, im sorry about that, my phone died :P”

✧ thinks the best cuddles are the ones in which you both end up falling asleep. also likes to admire your sleeping face totes not a creeper

✧ also loveloveloves to snuggle you from behind and bury his face in your neck and loves to just smELL you

✧ you told him you loved him first

✧ you were having a rough day when you heard a knock on your door

✧ opening it, you found a futakuchi giving you a small smile and carrying a plastic bag full of goodies. “i, uh, didn’t want you to be alone, so i thought we could hang out for a bit? just us two, your favorite snacks, and whatever else you want to do”

✧ touched by his gesture, you pulled him in by his jacket’s collar and gave him a long kiss

✧ after separating, you looked into his eyes as you cupped his face gently. “thank you, kenji. i love you. this means a lot to me”

✧ ejiufnicenjfdhksujsk he nearly melted in place

✧ later tries playing the pocky game with you, but then y’all forget about the pocky after your first round and stick to the smooching

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #futakuchi kenji #futakuchi x reader #haikyuu x you

107 notes · View notes

furymint · 4 years

Photo

All Prompts

#02: Sway

#03: Muster

#06: Bonus

#08: Clamor

#09: Lush

#12: Tooth & Nail

#15: Ache

#16: Lucubration

#20: Bonus

#22: Argy-Bargy

#24: Beam

Header | Reflection of some of my favorite peers’ prompts under the cut!

@aethernoise -- #11: Ultracrepidarian

tired curses!!!! i also really love this contrast in their work..... its rly cute. alyx just saved the world and aymeric is hating the dictionary. i like how rough his narration is and then alyx calls and everything speeds up, and i especially love him staring into the empty room. it put another contrast between their circumstances, but its also rly damn accurate abt how it feels to share a moment over the phone w someone. it made me smile a lot

@ahlis-xiv -- #23: Shuffle

this one made me laugh ksjdf ahlis’ distaste for the saucer despite being drawn to it is hysterical, but it also mirrors a lot of her character flaws: avoiding vulnerability, placing stoicism before genuineness, planting her frustration on external things instead of herself. even confronting her own feelings draws some curses out of her, and i love that display of her personality.

@autochthonousone -- #09: Nonagenarian

i love me some reflection and mentorship. also im obsessed with “let ‘lone this ‘n”.........dialect is such a hit or miss thing when writing or reading, but god youve got it and i love that line so much. barry’s relationship w stalwart is even better tho, and i cant repeat enough how much i love their dynamic of fair/stern/wise and distant/brutish/actually-paying-complete attention.

@brave-horizon -- #12: Tooth & Nail

talk abt using the setting..............i rly struggle w incorporating setting so this was a little mind-blowing to me. we got a really cool action scene plus established an entire town and conflict all at once?? battle scenes are hard. but ur vocab is so precise and stuff like “seized midstride” and “spilling its pilot” are rly inspiring me rn!! wind magic is smth ive brainstormed in the past but u have such good ideas w it and im so pumped just rereading it. its so good

@erstwhile25 -- #05: Matter of Fact

oh my god. some kind of dialogue god comes down and hands kail all his words, or else he’s just the dialogue god himself. im leaning towards the latter. i wish to god i could say “very small dogs with the barest streaks of sanity” in daily life, and honestly i might start to. the crew of the rook are always a joy to see + the development of their conversation takes such a meaningful turn that it really sticks after the laughs

@endangered-liaison -- #05: Matter of Fact

sorry not sorry jaejh is cool!!!! he’s super nasty and terrible and interesting and i loved his voice, but i esp love how well he pushed the conflict and just Ruined Everything. i rly live how his influence bleeds into the others through their fear. The kids go from hoping or expecting to smth better, to not even debating that he’s lying bc it will just turn out worse. the berry stains as a gun on the wall never struck me either, and i was SHOOK

@high-and-away -- #10: Avail

honestly this was the hardest one to pic a fav for. i rly loved so many of these bc they check a lot of boxes for my Brand. this one sits the longest with active conflict + does a fantastic job staying clear despite all the trails it picks up w max’s foil n comradeship, the chocobo’s higher level of pity over people, the chaotic pack of Resistance members, and the highlander that vicky reasons over n kills. i love that word “limning” now; ur vocab always finds ways to surprise me w the way u use them (esp in describing settings)

@holyja -- #03: Muster

usually when i think of lizzy writing, i think of how perfect ur verbs are, but this time i really liked the visuals and tone. hyana pushing food around her plate and sitting on the rooftops had such a lonely feel to them, but at the same time were rly enjoyable and clear imgs despite not having to be described forever. serella’s dialogue was perfectly on-the-nose, too. usually i rly linger on what is given too much detail, but this rly showed me how nice it is to air things out n leave the thought monologue unsaid.

@karoiseka -- #24: Beam

hell yeah memory lane time. i loved seeing CT from karo’s pov and seeing where her priorities lay or moved. i also liked the life u gave to the little parts left untouched by the narrative, like walking through CT and the heartbeat in the soul vessel. idk what could be more satisfying that a reunion either, so following karo into the ocular was some Good Shit

@mythrilreflections -- #15: Ache

does this get bonus points just for being in o’ghomoro? yes. i love how the tunnels are characterized by the senseless kobolds in them. the added pressure from their reasonings for being in this hellhole is even better, and i love the sigils concept. jace’s narration is so cold, too, which makes both the kobold’s ferocity and the team’s desperation more poignant: he doesn’t sound the type to exaggerate.

@norhimorovine -- #14: Part

this one just screams fairy tale to me. the others do too, but the repetition of events rly knocks this one up the flagpole of ‘belongs in some mid 19th century kids story collection.’ i LOVE the sisters’ banter, and how the younger daughter gets incorporated a bit further for her attention. having the soldier take little pieces of each environment to prove they were real made them a lot more real to me, too.

@snowbird-down -- #03 Muster

if u think im NOT gonna lose my mind shrieking over stream of consciousness as one of the #1 ways of writing trauma, u have not been around me for very long. the varying sentence length is rly successful here, and i esp love the part where people are rushing into the ship and she has to stab a dude to keep him from coming aboard. it’s such a back and forth determining who is humanity and who is the faceless antagonist for a minute, n ofc i love that.

@stars-bleed-hearts-shine -- #28 -- Irenic

i was p surprised that my fav of urs came so late, but i feel like this piece has a lot of what your really good at, and which i admire a lot: you aren’t afraid of emotional dialogue or arguments based in more than factual debate, and you capitalize on casual thoughts that reveal a lot more than they do at face value. i esp like that you rly make the most of two characters that overlap in values and personality so often--they acknowledge that overlap and work together with what they share.

@yunkinko -- #05 Matter of Fact

im gonna forget abt that little rat line bc the last line is a kick in the teeth. i always admire ur ability to expand tiny details into lasting events. x’arhll’s musings also cut so different from the rest of the scene, separating her from the others and mhifa even further from her, so i love that contrast. the “arc of water” stayed with me for a while too.

#IM SORRY IF I DIDNT GET TO EVERYONE #i got a lotta exhausted after this #n i love rereading and catching up on things sm #ty sm for sharing ur writing everyone!!#n grats to everyone who wrote smth #i think my fav of mine is lush!#i like a lot of the War Feelings i got to do w nol tho #i wrote i lot less this year than last year #bc work and 2020 #so im a little :/// abt that #since last year i did a lot of good work that i like to reread #brianna babbles #ffxivwrite2020

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oh-theatre · 5 years

Text

Consistent

A/n: HI HEY I WROTE FOR THE INTRUALITY BFFS AU I HOPE YOU ENJOY! Uh basically just a few things from across the au, its probs confusing so ask me questions :DD and ill answer. But ye! Let me know if you want more okay BYE IM SORRY ITS BAD ENJOY

Words: 1860

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, therapy mention

Pairings: Logicality, Demus, possible prinxiety

Summary: Just some moments from across the Intruality bffs au!

“Elevate a little higher!” Remus sings, Patton chuckles but nudges him to quiet as weird looks glance their way. Apologizing with his eyes he continues working away, Remus whispers next to him, bobbing his head to the music. “Throw a party in the-”

“Could you not?” A voice from across the room begs, a smirk hidden by a bite from Remus. Pattons blush quickly appears as he pops his head out from behind his friend. “Oh! Patton” Logan notices, both sharing a rosy tint to their cheeks.

“Just get married” Remus mumbles, pretending to focus on his math. Patton coughs, turning back to his computer, Logan scratches the back of his neck, patting away the sweat with his handkerchief. Roman bites back his own laugh but says nothing. “Play ‘Frozen two’, I wanna listen!” Remus pleads, a sweet affection as his eyes push forward.

“Its your phone and airpods?” Patton hands him the device, a giddy shuffle as Remus starts the playlist. Both instantly feel more triumphant as they continue their work. “Show yourself!” They sing together, fits of laughter as they dance. Logan once more goes to shush the pair but finds himself endeared with the boy. They had come to expect these antics, when all six had been put into the same study hall they knew chaos would ensue. Dee looked on, watching Remus butcher every last note as his own music blasted in his ears.

“Hey, broadway!” Virgil lashes, Remus turns, an innocent perk to his ears. “Maybe shut up so Dee and I can focus?” He spits, Remus obliges but only after he sticks out his tongue. Winking slyly at Dee, the more quiet. “God, hes worse than his brother” Virgil mutters, erasing roughly at the problem he had failed to do.

“Its fun V” Dee admits, his own foot matching the rhythm of his music. “Plus lets be honest, its Friday, no one is actually working” He continues his silly doodles across his homework, knowing he can finish it in two minutes. Virgil huffs but keeps quiet, the distraction too much.

“Be right back” Patton whispers, taking his laptop towards where Logan and Roman sit discussing their psychology classwork. “Can i?” He wonders, Logan hiding his excitement nods. “I had a quick question about our recipe?” Patton sits, Logan listens. “I was wondering if you wanted to tak-” He pauses as the music in his ear shifts.

‘I just had sex!’ Rings out loud, Patton's eyes grow wide quickly turning to Remus. His idle face as he conceals his giggles looking at his work. Logan tilts his head but Patton simply removes the device, recovering from his fright.

“Your question?” Logan repeats, Roman mimics his brother with his own dancing.

“I was thinking we could maybe take it a step further?” Patton proposes, knowing how anxious Logan was about his culinary abilities. “A pastry tree, we start with bigger ones on the bottom and slowly work our way up! So we can experiment and give the judges different options” He finishes, the sweetest of smiles. Logan wants to argue, find a problem but his plan worked and worked well for their grades.

“We can try” He decides, a quick grin and Patton leaves once more. Silent punishment to Remus when he returns to his seat. The class continues and ends fast, they all part to lunch, gathering in their separate areas.

~~~

“You good lego?” Roman asks as he unpacks their chairs from the locker, Logan snaps back from his distant stares into the bleak plaster. He nods taking his seat, his eyes setting upon a very hyper Remus and Patton as they prepare for their meal. “Hey Virge” Roman greets, Virgil and Dee join them, a quadrant of four chairs forms. As usual…

“What's up with nerd central?” Virgil asks, snapping in front Logans face. He shakes his head returning once more. Virgil follows his gaze however, biting back a knowing smile, Patton already sunk into his book as Remus lays his feet across the boys lap. “Ya know, I heard that they were dating” He puts out, Logan snaps his eyes, fear ridden.

“Hah! Please, Remus and Pat?” Roman laughs, sitting down with a shake. “Thats hilarious, Remus and Patton are best friends and anyway Remus has a huge crush on Dee” He adds, munching into his sandwich. Dee rolls his eyes, a soft kick to Romans knee.

“I know, just wanted to see what glasses over here would say” Virgil teases

“I assure you, I could care less about Pattons romantic status” Logan adjusts his glasses, sitting neatly eating his food. Virgil and Dee share a glance but leave it be. “We should invite them to sit with us, they are our friends” He offers, no qualms could be made. They did consider the pair friends...so what was the problem?

“Sup losers” Ethan kicks his chair into the circle, forcing his way between Roman and Dee.

Ah right…

Ethan

~~~

“Easy Remus!” Patton urges watching his friend balance atop the table trying to hang the valentines decorations. The door opens, Logan accompanied by Roman, Dee and Virgil strut in. “Remus get down” Patton asks, Roman chuckles, a sweet squeeze to Patton as the group passes them. “Tell your brother hes being an unsafe”

“Just say idiot” Roman corrects, Pattons expression changes as does Remus’s. He removes himself from the table, returning to his spot behind the desk in the library. Roman sighs, dragged away by Virgil. Patton sits next to his friend, softly kicking his friends chair.

“You're not an idiot” He assures, Remus nods, burying his head in his arms. “Ro’s your brother, its his job to make fun of you” Patton comments, Remus huffs wishing the insults wouldn't go so far. “Come on rum-rum” He hums, Remus giggles, frustrated with his resilience. “Come help me please and then we can go home, watch a movie, make snacks, build a fort” He says, laying his arms and head on Remus’s back. The idea sounds wonderful, but hes not sure hes up to it...just yet. “Oh and dont forget we have therapy today” Patton reminds, Remus groans. He knows its helpful and he gets to do it with his best friend but the idea terrifies him. “I know you dont want to...but its going to help” Patton encourages

“Fine, on one condition” Remus decides, annoyed with his friends walking eggshells around each other. Patton faces him, furrowing his brows in question. “You have to go up to Logan right now, kiss him and then ask him to be your valentine” Remus dares, Patton squeaks almost knocking over the books behind him.

“What!” Patton exclaims “You cant be serious! Youre not actually leveraging therapy over my valentines right now”

“Do it or you'll be flying solo” Remus leans forward, Pattons breath seizes as he swallows looking towards the said target. “Hmm” He sighs, wistfully looking away. Patton shuts his eyes tight but snaps.

“Fine” He barely whispers, Remus cheers pinning delighted in his chair.

“Have fun!” Remus grins watching Patton walk away, so much hesitance to him. Patton wrings his hands as he approaches the group, Logan spots him a formal smile to the boy. He stands to meet Patton halfway, Patton takes a deep breath.

“Pat-” No time, he takes Logans tie, only tugging softly as he pulls the boy into a kiss. The absolute silence that falls over the room save for Remus’s disbelief, is frozen. Pattons heart pounds until suddenly Logans melting right into the kiss.

And its perfect, its absolutely everything Patton had dreamed of

He pulls away in a frantic panic, forgetting what he was doing. Logan clears his throat, dusting himself off. Neither dared to move or speak, they simply stared in delighted confusion.

“Will you be my valentines?” Patton remembers the deal, Remus pounds hard on the desk through his exasperated laughter. “Im so sorry” He rushes, ready to turn away in his shame, feeling a soft hand take his. “Im sorry im not thinking straight” Pattons fear drips out of him, feeling the world grow silent with the simple pound of his breath.

“Ever! He's not straight!” Remus calls out, shushed by Dee.

“I would love to be your valentine” Logan replies, a soft tone just for them. Roman and Dee erupt into cheers, Virgil nods satisfied as Remus waste no time running into his friend. Embracing the petrified boy, Patton still believes he's dreaming as Remus hugs him. “And you don't have to make a deal, I would have done it regardless” Logan adds, Remus falls to the floor much to happy.

“You told him!” Patton cries, Remus can barely nod.

“He just texted me” Logan shows, Patton's face surely matched that of a tomato. “I'm glad however, it was taking too long” Logans coy expression only set Patton's heart a flutter.

“Motherfucker!” Remus stands, taking Patton from behind, the teens feeling safe in one anothers hold.

“Yes good point” Patton murmurs, Logan chuckles. One more quick peck to Pattons cheek before he returns to his friends. “I'm gonna faint”

“Do it coward, you wont” Remus dares, still nuzzling into Patton's shoulder. Patton locks eyes with Dee, tuning out the silly teases from Remus.

“Dee would you like to be Remus’s valentine?” Patton inquires, Remus falls silent. “Sucks to suck” He jokes, patting Remus as he returns to his position. Dee stands, ignoring the eyes that now watch him. Remus stutters failing to connect a coherent sentence. A hushed conversation and the pair meet in the hallway. Returning moments later, now words spoken but their interlaced fingers said enough.

Suffice to say, Patton and Remus had a very good first session.

~~~

“One cold brew for you” Remus presents as Patton approaches the locker, Logan accompanying him in the early morning. He takes it, the most grateful look upon his face, Logan yawns. “Goodest of the morns Logan” Remus smiles, Logan nods through his exhaustion

“Coffee starlight?” Patton offers, Logan moans in happiness taking the caffeinated drink. Remus laughs sitting comfortably in his chair, kicking Patton in a rhythm. The boy doesnt mind, hes used to the fidgets and it didnt hurt.

“Pickles did you do the homework?” Remus questions scrolling through his computer, Patton sets up his chair, taking his coffee from Logan. He gestures towards his own locker, Patton nods a quick kiss goodbye.

“Gonna have to be specific” Patton says, allowing Remus to lay his feet across him. Remus shows his computer screen, Patton checks the work and nods. “You got it” He assures, Remus fist pumps, shutting it happily. “Wheres Dee?” Patton wonders, going over his schedule for the day.

“He had an early test so I dropped him off, but we’re having dinner later for valentines” He smiles, Patton smirks. “Happy one year by the way” Remus celebrates

“You too” They cheer their drinks, falling casually into their conversation. The pair joke and laugh through excitement for the day, cheer and the musical. Everything felt right...for now. I mean it was senior year who knows what might happen.

At Least this, was solid and consistent.

Them

Their friendship

#intruality bffs au #intruality #logicality #prinxiety #demus #logan sanders #patton Sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #ao3 #archive of our own #writing #write #youtube #thomas sanders

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illfoandillfie · 5 years

Text

One More Present

Wrapped Up With A Bow

Request: I was wondering if you could a part 2 to Wrapped Up With A Bow? I think a continuation of it would be interesting.

Pairing: Present Day Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Summery: It’s Boxing Day and you’re bored. Until you remember a little something Roger wanted on his birthday, that he never got the chance to do.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Daddy kink, maybe some light sugar daddy vibes, bondage (specifically hogtie), spanking, vibrator, orgasm denial/delay / ruined orgasm (kind of), oral sex (m receiving), rough sex, degradation, fingering, unprotected sex, but also praise and some aftercare stuff (cause ya’ll know i love my aftercare)

Words: 4124

A/N: Written for my 1000 Follower Celebration. My alternate summery for this was ‘Boxing Day? More like Bondage day!’. In my defence it is after midnight and my brain isn’t working at full capacity. Also I didn’t originally plan for this to be Christmas themed but I was looking for some Rog smut to write and tis the season for gift wrapping. Anyway, if present day Rog wanted to tie me up and degrade me i would be so very into that and these are the fics that prove it.

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @londononvinyl

While Christmas Day had been busy and chaotic and loud, Boxing Day was the complete opposite. The previous day Roger’s house had been full (not an easy feat since it was so large) with his children and their partners and some extra friends who’d had nowhere else to go thrown in as well. Plates were piled high with all the traditional fare as crackers popped and terrible jokes were half shouted across the tables that had been shoved end to end. The curtains over the kitchen window were almost set alight while someone tipsily set their Christmas pudding on fire. And even in the evening, when everyone was so full they could barely move, a raucous game of Cards Against Humanity broke out, sending everyone into fits of inappropriate laughter. But now everything was quiet. Everyone had left, either late on Christmas night or after breakfast the next morning, carrying containers of leftovers but leaving their torn paper crowns and residual wrapping. Roger had popped down to the shops, grumbling about having to leave the house and battle the crowds, because the last of the milk had been used to make pancakes, which left you lying on the couch to bask in the near silence of the empty house.

It was nice but it made you feel oddly restless. You got up and stretched and then looked around the room for something to do. You could go for a walk through the garden, although that would mean rugging up in coat and mittens and beanie since it was so cold outside. You could light the fire in the main living room and curl up in front of it with a book or perhaps a video game. Or maybe you should take the chance to have a relaxing bath, pull out a bathbomb and grab the remnants of a bottle of wine from the fridge downstairs and just relax. But none of those ideas really caught your attention. You wanted to do something. Life with Roger was usually somewhat chaotic, and now the calm felt too calm. Your eyes roamed over the room again and landed on a small ribbon, leftover from one of the presents that had been unwrapped yesterday. It gave you the idea you’d been looking for and you hurried up to Roger’s bedroom to change.

By the time Roger got home, still grumpy about having to leave in the first place, you were ready, waiting by the top of the staircase, peeking over the railing to watch for him. You heard the front door shut and caught a glimpse of his back as he turned to hang up his jacket and toe off his shoes. You scurried back towards the bedroom door, careful not to let him see you. “Y/N?” you heard him yell from the room you’d vacated minutes before. “Up here” you called back, waiting until you heard his footsteps heading your way before scurrying towards the bed and getting comfortable, curling up like a cat. “Milk’s in the fridge, but I also picked us up so-” he paused mid-sentence when he caught sight of you, eyes roaming over every inch of the ribbon you’d strategically tied around yourself. “Hi Daddy. Found one more present for you to unwrap.” “Haven’t seen that in a while,” he said, placing the box of chocolate liqueurs he’d just bought on top of the dresser, “not since my birthday,” “Thought Christmas was a special enough occasion to bring it out again,” you shrugged, “You gonna unwrap me now?” “And what would you have me do after that, love?” “Well,” you unfolded your legs and stood up, closing the distance between you and Roger, “anything you wanted, Daddy. But I seem to recall you wanting to hogtie me last time I had this ribbon on, and not getting the chance.” You walked your fingers up his chest as you spoke. He caught your wrist with one hand his other moving to your throat, squeezing lightly, “trust you to ask for something like that. Knew I’d found myself a proper whore the day I met you.” “Don’t think we can underestimate the influence you’ve had either,” He chuckled at that and let you go, his hand slipping from your throat to your cheek, “either way I’m very lucky.” “You’re ruining a perfectly lovely moment, you old sap.” “I just know how squirmy you get when I make you wait for something you really want. And I know you really want to be my pretty little fucktoy, all tied up and helpless,” his tone got more mocking with the last five words, as he dropped his hand, fingers sliding along the ribbon where it ran down your stomach. You whimpered at his shift in tone, almost melting on the spot, which just made him grin wider. “Alright, let’s get you set up. Think I’ll be needing this one though,” he tugged on the ends of the bow you’d tied over your chest, pulling it undone easily, and gathering it into his hands as it fell from your body, “don’t worry, slut, my knots will be a lot harder for you to get out of. Now turn around, hands behind your back, you know the drill.” “Yes Daddy,” you turned in front of him and clasped your hands together at your bum. He was gentle as he wrapped the ribbon around your wrist, pulling the ends through the loop. “That’s not too tight, is it Kitten?” “No, feels good,” “And you’re arms aren’t too strained?” “Nope,” “Good.” Once he was sure you were comfortable, he continued wrapping the rope around your wrists, first one way and then the other and then back again, making sure it was secure. He then got you to unclasp your hands so he could tie it off properly, leaving the ends dangling. “Okay give it a test for me,” You wriggled your wrists around, trying to slip them free or reach the knot to untie it, but it was no use. “Now your feet.” You felt a push on your back and started walking towards the bed, falling forwards when you reached it. Roger chucked as you awkwardly tried to crawl further up the bed but he gave you a hand, helping you turn your head to the side so you could breathe freely, and get positioned in the middle of the mattress. You brought your legs up, ankles together and waited. There were footsteps as Roger walked to the cupboard, and then more as he came back, placing your box of toys on the end of the bed, far enough away that you wouldn’t accidentally roll into it. You watched as he pulled out a few lengths of rope and then disappeared behind you once more. “Uh uh uh, ankles apart. Want your whore cunt on display so I can see how much you enjoy being used for Daddy’s entertainment.” “Yes Daddy,” a shiver ran through your body and you separated your ankles. “Better,” he pushed your legs a little further before he began tying them, wrapping the rope around you so your ankle and thigh were bound together, checking in each time to make sure they weren’t tight enough to cut off circulation or hurt in any other unwanted way. Finally you felt a tug on your legs as he used the last length of rope to bind them each to your wrists, winding the ends of the ribbon around them to get them out of the way.

When he was satisfied he took a step back to admire his work, “can you get out?” You made an attempt, trying to stretch your fingers far enough to reach any of the knots he’d made but it was useless, “No Daddy, I’m stuck.” “Just the way you wanted,” he suddenly brought his hand down on your arse making you gasp loudly. It was followed by another spank and then another, his other hand roaming over your side. “Wait, Daddy, I’m -,” you broke off in a squeal as he began tickling you. “Ticklish, I know.” It was an odd mix of sensations, one hand tickling you, the other dropping harsh spanks to your arse at unexpected times. It set you writhing around trying to escape or at least lessen the impact of each hit, but again you found it a pointless endeavor. You were panting by the time he was done with you, leaving a final few blows to your backside before he walked around to the front of your bed. “Now we know for sure that you won’t be breaking free anytime soon, no matter what I put you through. So what should I do with you? Completely at my mercy and I’m not even sure how I want to use you.” You lifted your head as much as possible, looking up at him through your lashes, “You could fuck me,” “This isn’t a conversation, slut, it’s a monologue. Think I should stuff that mouth though, shut you up for a while.” “Sorry, Daddy, I’ll be quiet,” “Yes you will be quiet, because you’ll be too busy choking on my cock to say anything.” A whimper escaped you and you shifted your hips, wishing you could press your thighs together. Roger reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out his keyring, jangling it in front of your face, “I’m going to put this in your hand, okay Kitten? If things get too much drop it and I’ll stop,” “Okay, sounds good,” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, a moment of gentleness that helped calm the tense excitement that had begun to build in your stomach and chest. You took a few deep breaths as he stripped off, the jangle of his belt making you squirm. “Ready Kitten?” he pumped his fist over his dick, looking down at you, “Christ, could easily just wank off over you and leave you begging to be touched.” “No, don’t Daddy, want your cock so bad.” He snorted, “don’t worry, I won’t. Not this time at least. But I don’t appreciate the tone. No please, no begging. Where’re your manners?” “Sor-” “Not looking for an apology. I want to hear you beg me to fuck your throat.” You gulped, able to feel wetness pooling between your legs, “please fuck my throat Daddy, please. I’m just a helpless slut who needs to learn how to behave. Teach me a lesson Daddy, fuck my throat, please.” “That’s much better. And since you asked so nicely,” he took hold of your upper arms from underneath and dragged you closer to the edge of the bed. Once he was sure you were steady and comfortably settled, he tapped the head of his cock against your lower lip. Instantly, you opened your mouth, letting him push himself inside. He gave you a few moments to adjust, softly stroking your hair as you sucked on his tip before he pulled back, let you take a breath, and then pushed back in a little deeper. Again he paused to let you adjust, his breath already coming harder than before as he pulled out once more. The first time you gagged he smiled and told you what a pretty sound it was, pushing a little further into your throat before pulling back to let your breath properly. You squeezed the keys in your hand as he finally sunk as far into your throat as he could, pressing your nose into his pubes. After that there was no chance of him holding back any longer, all restraint gone as he thrust into your throat again and again and again. You tried to keep up as best you could, your tongue sliding along his length as saliva dipped from the corners of your mouth and tears ran down your face. He pulled back, giving you the chance to cough and splutter as he hit your cheeks with his slick cock, only adding to the mess you’d become. “Th-at’s right slut, take it,” he growled, shoving his cock back into your throat as he leaned over and spanked you again. You let a moan slip at the impact, though it was mostly lost in a wet gag as Roger’s hips bucked into you. There was no escape, no room to think about trying. You lay there, choking and gaging, obediently taking everything he gave you, with only one solid though in your head, don’t drop the keys. As rough as he was being with you, as uncomfortable as the sensation was, as much as you wanted to at least have your hands free to give you jaw a break, you didn’t want it to be over yet. “Fuck, such a go-od w-whore for Daddy,” he groaned, “gonna – Jesus – gonna fuck my cum down your throat, make, make sure you swallow it,” You whined which only pushed Roger to use you harder, grunting with every thrust, your hair being pulled as it got caught in his tightening fist. He groaned, long and loud, as he came, his cock pulsing as he coated your throat, holding you in place until he was spent.

When he finally let you go you gasped for air, letting your head fall back to the mattress but Roger grabbed your hair, pulling your head up again. “What do you say?” “Thank you Daddy,” you panted. “Good girl,” he let you head go again, making sure you were facing the side before he leaned over and took the keys back, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze as he did so, “don’t think you’ll need them anymore since you can talk now. But we’ll keep them close in case I get sick of your whining and decide to stuff your mouth with something else. Remind me what your safeword is,” “Lighthouse, Daddy,” “You okay to continue?” “Yes Daddy, please, I need more.” Roger ignored you and took the few steps around the bed until he was behind you again. You knew he’d seen how wet you were from the way he started laughing, “Jesus, Kitten. I knew you’d be into that, but I didn’t realise just how much.” You felt the mattress dip and he knelt behind you, giving the robes that bound your ankles to your wrists short tugs, as if to pull you closer. Once you were within easier reach he pressed his thumb to your soaked pussy, running it up and down your slit a couple of times. “Such a pretty cunt, just begging to be used. Almost makes me wish I hadn’t bothered finishing down your throat. Almost.” You whined as he brushed over your clit, quickly retreating back towards your entrance. He replaced his thumb with two fingers, slowly pushing them into you and holding them there. “Maybe I should invest in a fucking machine,” he began pumping his fingers into you at a steady pace, too slow and always angled away from the spots that he usually delighted in hitting, “Be easier on me. I could tie you up like this and let it pound you for an hour or two while I went about my day. Maybe you could cum from that alone, maybe you couldn’t. Probably take a bit of experimenting with it to find out. But by the time I stopped it you’d be all stretched out and ready for me to use. And we both know how much it turns you on to be overstimulated like that, so even if you did manage to squeeze out an orgasm or two, no big deal.” The whole time he talked his fingers were moving at that same steady pace, never enough. Your instinct was to lift your hips higher, try to change the angle he was hitting you, but the way you were tied made that impossible. “I could set the fucking machine up in you cunt while I took your arse. I know you get off fantasising about being a slut for two cocks, three even, but there’s no way I could share you with anyone. A machine though… think of the possibilities.” You involuntarily clenched down on his fingers, earning another deep chuckle from Roger. And then suddenly his fingers left you, empty and desperate to be filled again. He shuffled over to the box, and began digging though it once more, directly in your eyeline. Every so often he’d pull out a toy that caught his eye and ask your opinion on it. Eventually though he found what he was looking for – a purple ‘U’ shaped object, slightly bigger on one end than the other, and an accompanying remote control. Your breath hitched when you saw it and you couldn’t help trying to struggle free. “Aww, does Kitten not like this toy?” his tone was mocking which only made you squirm more. “It’s not the toy I have a problem with, Daddy, it’s how you use it.” Roger laughed, “think that just means I’ve not used it on you enough.” You gasped as you were suddenly pushed onto your side, your shoulders twinging with the unexpected shift. Roger moved back out of your line of sight, dragging the smaller end of the toy along your folds until it was slick enough to slide into you, the larger end resting against your clit. As soon as he was sure it was properly in place, he yanked you back onto your front.

You had maybe three seconds to adjust to the feeling of it pressed between you and the mattress before Roger grabbed the remote and turned it on. A light pulse that made you whine. “There you go Kitten, not so bad now is it?” “No Daddy,” you said, struggling to rock your hips against it. “Thank you can handle a little more,” the pulsing got faster and stronger, the whole mattress buzzing with the vibrations. A second later the part of the toy that was rubbing against your g-spot started vibrating too. “Y’know, I’m an old man, kitten. I don’t always understand new technology. You’ve seen me trying to set my DVR. But this is one piece of technology I’ve been very happy to learn about. I hear the new model works through an app on your phone. Think of how much fun,” he turned the vibrations higher still, “we could have with that. Much more subtle. You could wear it when we went out to dinner, or when I take you out and buy you all those pretty clothes. And I could control it and just look like I was playing on my phone, or sending a text.” You moaned as he suddenly changed the vibration again, the pattern switching to uneven pulses, first short and then long and then short again. You’d been close but the disruption pulled you away from the edge. Roger moved in front of you again, “how’s that Kitten? You wanna cum?” “Yes, please Daddy, plea- fuck!” The pattern changed again, a long powerful buzz you couldn’t escape from, pushing you over the edge almost instantly. You’d barely hit your high before he changed it again, the softer shorter pulses making it impossible to satisfactorily ride out your orgasm. “That’s not fair, Daddy,” “Shhhh, Kitten, not now, Daddy’s concentrating. Here why don’t you suck on these to keep quiet,” he tapped two of his fingers, the same two he’d had shoved inside your pussy moments before, against your lips and you obediently opened your mouth. For a while he left you like that, your moans muffled around his fingers as he constantly toyed with the controller, making you shake and writhe as you tried to escape or get more friction. A couple of times he let you fall over the edge, though the quick change in stimulation interrupted you enough to ruin the orgasm, which, combined with the edges he gave you, only served to make you more horny. “God I could do this all day, Kitten. Although playing with you has got me very hard again. Maybe I should just fuck your throat again. You’re such a pathetic cum slut I’m sure you’d be happy to swallow load after load,” As if to demonstrate he pushed his fingers towards your throat, making you gag. You were held there, suspended between his fingers in your throat and the relentless buzzing against your clit and in your cunt, each end of the toy set to a different pattern. And then it all stopped. The toy stilled, quiet, though you were still twitching. His fingers left your mouth, wiped dry on your cheek. “But maybe I’ll save that for another day,” he moved behind you once more, you whimpered as he removed the toy, “We could set you up like this in the living room or my study, so I could keep an eye on you, and still get my work done. But right now that drippy little cunt is begging me to fill it.”

You had half a second to catch your breath before he was sliding into you, pushing a long moan from your throat. He found his rhythm, laying a few spanks to your arse at random intervals so you could never prepare yourself for the next hit. “Shit, Kitten,” he grunted, “such a perfect whore,” the last two words were punctuated with spanks hard enough to make you cry out, your skin still stinging when he removed his hand. “P-p-p,” “Aww what’s the matter Kitten? Took fucked out to speak?” “Please,” it escaped you in a long whine that you didn’t mean to make. “Please what?” “Pl-please make me cummm,” “You will, but only when I decide you can.” Suddenly his rhythm changed, the pace picking up as he gripped you tighter, one hand on your hip, the other on the ribbon binding your wrists, pulling on it for leverage. He drilled into you relentlessly and all you could do was moan and beg for more. With one final harsh spank he dropped a hand to your clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Come on Kitten, let go. Wanna feel your pathetic cunt sq- shit- squeezing me. Good girl, that’s right.” Your legs shook as you finally came properly, Roger dragging it out for as long as he could, even as you whimpered with the rising sensitivity. He only stilled his movements when he hit his own climax, burying himself to the hilt and coating your walls.

As he caught his breath, he pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder, “gonna pull out now okay?” You held your breath as he did, a small wince escaping you. “You alright, love?” “Mmhmm,” you felt too shaky to speak properly but you knew he’d just ask you to use your words anyway so you cleared your throat and, as clearly as you could manage under the circumstances said, “yeah, fine. Can you untie me now?” “I am, love, going as fast as I can,” You could feel the ties loosening as he spoke but fought the urge to move and try to pull free the rest of the way yourself. First he undid the rope that connected your wrists and ankles, then each frogtie on your legs and finally the ribbon that held your wrists together. You suddenly felt very grateful the ribbon was so smooth and soft, only small marks left that would fade before the night was out. As soon as you felt your arms were free you felt you could breath easily again. You rolled onto your back and stretched out, legs straight, arms above your head. Roger stood and slipped his underwear back on as you sat up and rolled your shoulders, wrists and ankles. As soon as you were done though he was quick to hop under the covers and pull you in with him, snuggling as close to you as was physically possible. “How was that?” “Good. What I’d been looking for when I decided to dress up like that.” “I wasn’t too hard?” “You were perfect Rog,” you buried your head in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply, letting his familiar scent calm you completely. “Good. So were you. Couldn’t have asked for more.” You sighed contentedly at his praise, “How about you go make us a cuppa while I go to the loo, and then we can cuddle up in front of the fire with some left over pudding and maybe those chocolates you just bought, yeah?” Roger shuffled out of your grasp slightly, just far enough that he could lean down and kiss you. Your hand flew up to hold him against you, thumb rubbing softly over the hair that covered his jaw. “Okay, sounds like a plan.”

#my writing #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #present day roger taylor #gonna try and get more of the leftover ik requests done before the end of the year #but theres a couple that will defs take longer to write #anyway this is pure filth i whipped up in about 24 hours #not much more i can say #1000 follower celebration

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beesmygod · 5 years

Text

this is what riverdale is about (part 6)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

and now...we come to the end of our journey...the final 4 episodes of the season. who killed jason blossom? you forgot that’s what we were doing, huh. you were way too distracted by sex archie and the jughead/betty relationship (called ‘bughead’ in universe).

i have a friend who has been watching riverdale because i have basically tricked him into doing so and frankly, what i am typing here was and is only the surface of this show’s nonsense. as he watched episodes, he reminds me of all the completely bananas shit that this show throws at you literally every second it is on screen and honestly its a relief to know that, as much as i can try to just give you some basic facts, watching the show itself is still a totally different transcendent experience. its really the only show of its kind; shamelessly stupid but unaware of it while openly delighting in all the silliest cliches presented as straight faced as possible. if these write up do anything for you at all, please, please. watch the show. you will be shocked at how much more there is to discover.

images are from the riverdale wiki

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SEASON 1 (PART 4):

the lost weekend: this is the one with a very special guest star in it: molly ringwald as archie’s mom! she and fred (luke perry) have been separated for some amount of time for an unknown reason. yay she’s so cute! i love her. oh uh, also they’re getting a divorce. the papers are going through. archie gets the bad news in the middle of a gaming sesh with jughead.

meanwhile, veronica meets with her dad’s lawyer (whose name is paul sowerberry?? he never shows up again despite his unbelievably silly name) and tells him she’s not giving him a good statement as to her father’s character to help him get a lesser sentence. “fuck you dad!” is the general sentiment before she stomps out to go to school.

oh man there’s a weird aspect of this show that i have neglected to mention. this isn’t something i’ve ever experienced in school so it was totally foreign and weird to me but the students have their own lounge that they mingle and talk in...at...some point during the school day?? jughead’s opening monologue of this episode makes great pains to talk about how every moment of their lives are scheduled from 8am to 3pm but there’s apparently plenty of sittin’ time where they can just laze about this random room talking about crimes they have or are going to commit. a great deal of talking happens in this room when usually you’d have to like, sneak a convo while getting shit out of your locker between classes. i dunno, it’s weird. this is where archie tells veronica about clifford blossom sending her dad to jail so he can jack the land everyone is fighting over.

archie and betty make plans to celebrate jugheads birthday by taking him to the movies, which i feel like is in poor taste given his movie house was just destroyed but whatever. with betty coming along it’ll be just like the three muskateers! betty replies “AcTuAlLy ThErE wErE fOuR mUsKeTeErS” and somehow he doesn’t beat her to death with his bookbag right there and then. betty then doubles down on the bad words flowing out of her mouth and proposes they hold a surprise party for jughead since, according to his dad, he’s never had one. i have no idea what would compel her to think he would want this. even i know he doesn’t want this and i only know him through a tv screen. on top of this she goes out of her way to invite his deadbeat alcoholic dad multiple times. i thought she was supposed to be the smart, observant nancy drew type but like...what the fuck betty. jughead does, in fact, get pretty pissed at archie just for telling his girlfriend that he even has a birthday. presumably instead of telling him he emerged fully formed from the leader of the black parade’s forehead.

after finding out from some files that her dad was receiving money monthly from clifford blossom for some unspecified reason before the arrest, veronica challenges cheryl to a dance off and wins. unfortunately, veronica cant come forward with what she knows because it would make it look like her dad put a hit out on jason in retaliation. dance off to relieve the pain.

jughead fucking hates his party and makes sure everyone knows it. this is something NORMAL people do and he is NOT normal!!! he leaves the party in a huff when cheryl shows up to get her dance off revenge by ruining the party by inviting the whole school. this is the episode where he does his famous “im a weirdo, i have a hat” speech, which is deliciously dumb. they get in a fight, while jughead’s dad talks to kevin’s boyfriend (who you will remember is a member of his gang he assigned to keep tabs on the progress of the teens looking into the whole land plot mess) while betty’s mom secretly listens in?!

cheryl activates chaos mode and locks everyone in the house so they can play a game called “secrets and sins” which is really just an excuse for her to ask everyone horrible questions to make them feel bad. veronica accuses cheryl of fucking her brother, dilton doiley tells everyone about grundy’s statutory rape of archie andrews and chuck tells everyone about dark mode betty drugging him for an impromptu bdsm session which causes jughead to go apeshit and try to throw a weak little baby punch. jughead’s dad, as the only adult who for some reason let all this happen, finally throws everyone out and tells them to go home.

archie and veronica sleep together, by which i mean, next to each other in the same room. veronica testifies on her father’s behalf and discloses to betty the link between jugheads dad and the serpents and her dad’s land plot dreams. molly ringwald appears for 20 seconds.

INHALES. OKAY.

to riverdale and back again: its homecoming babey! archie’s very supportive mother has a nice talk with him. :) veronica founds out that her dad only has to serve “a few more months” in prison for his various white collar crimes, further proof that riverdale takes place in america. jughead and his dad have a nice normal breakfast while fp sweats and asks him “hey uh, how come uh you’re writing about the uhhhh murder and investigating it and stuff” like a normal dad would. archie and veronica tentatively agree to start going out.

penelopy blossom brings polly (betty’s pregnant sister, remember her? i didn’t) a strawberry milkshake in the most ominous way possible. veronica plans to sneakily find out if jughead’s dad is helping her own and for what purpose, ultimately. jughead accepts and invite to betty’s house for dinner, not knowing her mom is going to grill the shit out of him and his dad over the whole kid murder thing.

polly finds the ring jason proposed to her with back in penelope’s room while snooping, and has no idea how it wound up back in the hands of his mother. according to penelope, jason threw it in their face when he renounced his lineage, then gives her another milkshake.

the cooper family event is disrupted when betty, wise to her mother’s horseshit, invites her estranged dad to dinner too. all hell breaks loose when the subject of homecoming comes up and fp reveals that while alice and hal were crowned homecoming king and queen, they got in a knockout, drag-out fight backstage. alice flips out before he can reveal what it was about and betty and jughead flee for the dance. meanwhile archie and veronica try, and fail, to find something incriminating in fp’s trailer.

cheryl discovers the milkshakes are DRUGGED and polly is going to sleep through homecoming. she informs her parents that she has disposed of the ring (evidence) and they dont have to worry about it anymore. you can see where this is going.

jughead’s dad drops a bomb on him right before homecoming that they’re going to move to toledo to meet up with jughead’s mom and baby sister. jughead hates this bc he just got used to betty and he wants to write his murder book.

archie and veronica sing a truly terrible cover of “kids in america” that has to be seen to be believed.

youtube

meanwhile, sherrif keller tears up fp’s house with a search warrant and finds the gun that was used to kill jason blossom. WHAAAA??? BUT ARCHIE AND VERONICA JUST SEARCHED IT??? how could this happen.....jughead finds out about the web of deception weaved by the friends and tells them all to fuck off so he can go to toledo with his family. jughead literally turns around and is informed that his dad was just arrested for murder. his life is so hilariously bad.

the sheriff sucks so bad at his job because he tells his gay son everything who then spills the beans to archie and co (sans jughead) who learn that fp is being framed, because they already tossed the place before.

cheryl has the ring. at this point none of these things mean anything.

i cant believe i still have two more of these. i’m going to have to split this post after this one.

anatomy of a murder: as it turns out, archie discovers, information you discover during a breaking and entering won’t hold up in court. oops. meanwhile fp inexplicably confesses to kidnapping jason after his fake drowning at sweetwater river so he could use him as ransom after discovering he heir to all that sweet maple syrup money. according to fp, jason nearly escaped so they cut their losses and blasted a hole in him. he also confesses to torching the car and stealing the sheriff's files (which we, the audience, know hal cooper did, not fp). well. that’s that, i guess.

betty’s dad comes back to the family home to destroy the murderboard evidence all like “whoo hoo! fp took a bullet for me!” hal’s concern and his reason for stealing the files in the first place, as it turns out, was because the feud between the coopers and the blossoms is more complicated than we thought. the coopers WERE blossoms, until grand-pappy was murdered, so they packed their shit and left with a new name. so that makes polly and jason related. cool!

fp apparently used his his last phone call to call kevin’s boyfriend who, after some pressing by the gang, admits that while he didnt see fp pull the trigger, he did help him put jason’s body in a freezer. this tip leads them to the corpse of a serpent who had a sack of money in a monogrammed dufflebag with the initials “h.l.” (hiram lodge). this is a comically dumb move for a crime boss to make. it is shockingly stupid.

joaquin tells kevin about a secret stash he and fp set up before he bounces from town forever because riverdale sucks. in the stash is jason’s jacket. everyone puzzles over what it means until betty, noted brain genius checks the pockets. in it they find a usb drive.

they sit down and watch the usb and react like they’re watching a sad documentary and not a snuff film. betty calls CHERYL OF ALL PEOPLE and tells her what they just saw on the usb. cheryl, queen of chaos, confronts her dad and tells him that everyone knows what he did.

it turns out the video depicts jason tied up in the basement of the whyte wyrm, there the dead serpent watches over him. clifford blossom walks in and blows a hole in his kid. fp confessed to protect jughead, who was threatened by cliff as the heat poured on.

clifford dies surrounded by his greatest love, maple syrup, by hanging himself in the syrup barn. lol

the sweet hereafter: how the fuck is there another episode of this? they solved the murder, what else could there possibly be to do. wtf. anyway.

the cops find hella drugs in the maple barn after clifford’s death. the assumed story is that jason learned about his dad’s heroin smuggling business and threatened to tell the cops on his dad which lead to his abduction, and eventual death. i guess the polly thing is in here too somehow. not important i guess. the lodges prepare for hiram’s arrival. betty and archie are going to be honored by the mayor for cracking the case at the 75th annual jubilee (wtf). hermoine attempts to buy fred out of the project now that the cops are cracking down on the serpents and making them the face of the construction company is now a very bad look.

betty tries to write an article for the town paper about fp being innocent but her parents wont publish it, citing it as a conflict of interest given she’s smooching the subject’s son. jughead FINALLY JUT NOW gets a social worker who realizes that fred has a dui and is not fit to care for a kid. he has to transfer to a new school district...SOUTHSIDE HIGH SCHOOL!!!

cheryl apologizes for throwing hands at jughead in a previous ep and gives him her iconic spider brooch. i am only bringing this up because she says, specifically, that selling it will net him a good amount of hamburgers and “s t-shirts” for years. why is she the only one who notices he only wears one kind of shirt. betty’s article getting published in the school paper leads to the above retaliation.

veronica’s mom honest to god asks her to sexually manipulate archie into convincing his dad to sell the project to her.

betty’s mom, after a confrontation, tells betty abt the fight she and her dad had on homecoming night when they were high schoolers. turns out...alice was pregnant. she gave the baby up for adoption after she went to the sisters of quiet mercy, like she did with polly, even though hal wanted an abortion. betty immediately tells all her friends this shit.

jughead transfers to the new high and flourishes. turns out they’re all baby gangsters there so they look at him and his dad as kings to be admired. when the archie group heads off to go rescue him, it turns out they dont need to do anything. but now that theyre all conveniently together, veronica gets a txt from cheryl saying she’s going to go be with jason....

they rush to the river where cheryl is having her ophelia meltdown in his stupid little river boat dress where she punches through the ice until she falls through. theres no way to describe how silly this scene is unless you see it so i won’t try but its so melodramatic and cheesy that youre going to be amazed that it got through the writing team at all. archie saves her by punching through the ice the other way. from under the ice. you will soon find, that all of archie’s solutions are to punch things.

betty does a speech at the jubilee that convinces fred not to sell. a nice ending for him.

meanwhile cheryl burns her fucking house down for a lark. just for the drama of it all.

the same night, jughead and betty start to fuck, as do veronica and archie. not int he same room, like totally separately. but jughead is interrupted by the serpents and a dog named hotdog, who give him a jacket of his own so he can join the team. betty is scandalized.

archie goes to meet his father for a breakfast at pop’s chocklit shoppe for a serious talk. but while he’s int he bathroom, a man with a gun is holding up the chocklit shoppe. he demands fred’s wallet, then pops a hole in him and runs off.

and that.........is where this season......ends.

---

thank you for joining me for season 1 of this shitshow. i love this shitty show. if you loved reading about it, or were mortified by whatever the fuck happened here, then you should watch it as well.

i never pass up an opportunity to shill myself, so if you like what i write, drop me a buck or two at my patreon. i do more writing like this, but also i mostly make comics, so make sure to read the page when you’re signing up so you know what you’re getting!

i WILL return...with season...2!

https://www.patreon.com/aghoststory

#riverdale

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popopretty · 5 years

Text

Piko’s Spring Tour “Pathfinder” report

There are just so many things I want to write down for this live but I realized I would not be able to put everything into one post and I have also forgot some parts of it so please bear with my scattered memories.

I went to almost all the lives in this tour except for the one in Sendai. So it includes Nagoya, Osaka, Yokohama, Fukuoka and Tokyo. It is an amazing feeling following an artist on tour, like waking up in a different city everyday, meeting the fans you don’t usually meet but still being able to say “See you tmr”. For two weeks I was filled with Piko feels and I couldn’t really remember doing anything else.

KEEP READING - There is A LOT more under the cut lol

For most of the venues, there were like 150-200 people each. The final was in a bigger venue so there were more than that. There are girls, guys, couples, families, Japanese, foreigners, all kinds of people you can think of. And everyone is super nice and friendly. I still feel super awkward with my Japanese but people’s warmness there just calmed me a lot.

For the tour goods, there are T-shirts, mirrors, towels, mobile charger, tote bag and stuff from previous lives. If you buy one album, you will get a ticket to high touch with Piko at the end of the live. Plus there are chekis and if u are lucky enough you can get one with Piko’s sign.

My favorite thing from the goods this time must be the totebag. Its cheap and convenient since you can use it both as a handbag and a shoulder bag. The mobile battery is a new thing, which is a bit expensive imo but it works pretty well and has a super cute design so everything is forgiven xD I also bought 2 more CDs to get a high touch with him. I will write about it in more details at the later part.

Piko wears a different outfit every live. For the one in Nagoya, he wears the black outfit as in Black Swan cover, then in Osaka it was the white one as in Realizing. He is back to the black one in Yokohama and in Fukuoka is another white shirt with black gilet. He went with the Black Swan outfit for MOST of the final live lol. If you read my last posts, you have already known what else he was wearing xD

As for the setlist. The setlist is the same for all the small lives. Only the final is different so I’m gonna list out all the songs that he has sung in all the lives, not in the exact order.

- Realizing - This is the opening song for all lives.

- Loki - He sang this in all the small lives but not in the final.

- Ghost Rule

- HERO

- Tengaku - He sang this in the final only

- Re:Act

- Rolling Merry Go Round - this is also in the final only. I was so surprised when he sang it ;; this is also my first time listening to the song live ;;

- Dappo Rock

- Kachoufuei - This is one of my favourite songs in the new album

- Sakurane - This is also final exclusive! In one part he messed up the lyrics and he was super embarrassed so he laughed and asked the audiences to sing for him lol

- Black Swan - the most beautiful song live from the new album. Tbh I didn’t like the recording that much cuz the instruments are a bit too loud for me. But in the live it sounds much better and Piko’s voice just resonates around the live house and it is absolutely beautiful.

- Kokoronashi Acoustic - This is in the final only. He sang this song many times before but this time is totally different. He sang the first verse with no instruments at all and the acoustic guitar sound only came in in the second verse.

- Kasa - He sang it with a backup vocal of himself since it is a self-duet and many parts are overlapped. He sang the guy’s part with female backup in the first verse and then switched to the girl’s part with male backup for the second verse. In some lives, the fans even sang along with the backup parts which was really cute xDDD

After this part there is usually a small MC parts where Piko can talk and take a short rest before entering a non-stop session of about 4-5 rockish songs xD

- Murabito A - I love the song and the message in it. Whenever he gets to the “kamisama” I really just reached my hands towards him as if he is my God lol

- Futaiten Path Finder

- Lost One no Goukoku - I cant believe Piko covered it just recently! He sounds absolutely amazing in it. He didnt try to sing the original key (though I think he totally can). He chose a lower tone which showed off his beautiful, manly middle range and I love it so much. In the entry part of the song, he asked everyone to raise hand and shout out at the end of each drum session. He also asked the girls and the guys to do it separately. Even though there were only a few guys, they were really energetic, even when Piko asked them to say Yeah but in a girly cutesy voice. (They did it anyway lol!)

- Haikei Doppelganger - Of course this cannot be missed! This is like the most heated song in the live. Everyone was just headbanging like crazy. He just sounds absolutely powerful and precise for such a hard song that I lost my mind every time I heard it.

- Make Our Days - this is like a sequel to Make My Days. He mentioned that this is a song where he wants everyone to become one by doing the same moves. It is pretty similar to Make My Days and I dont know how to explain it in writing lol. So lets wait until some videos of it actually come out xDD He also asked all the band members to do that with different style every time and it was so funny (I will write more about it but probably in a separate post)

- Piscium - Last song before the encore. He spoke about the meaning of it, about how he started his career as a net artist, how it was in the beginning where they didnt really know what to do but try different things and see how it works. And it has been a long way with both joys and sadness and now he realizes that its not him walking alone, and that everything he does has the people who support him being a part of it. Thats why its not about him anymore but about all of us. Thats why Make My Day becomes Make Our Days, and Piscium lyrics also say “You made me. I made you”.

It was a beautiful moment…

Before the funny part kicked in xDDD

If you follow Piko, you might have already known that he has a corner called Pikone jinsei soudan in his namahousou, in which he puts on an okama personality and gives people advices on their problems xDD The live this time also has a session like that.

- Tokyo Shinobizaki

The first song of the encore is Tokyo Shinobizaki, which is an ending he sang for a short anime recently. It is a slow, jazzy and mature song, the type you may find in some old bars I guess. In the small lives, Piko would wear his live tour T-shirt, walk out and sing it with a stand mic. And he kept swaying and sliding his hands up and down the stand mic xD He has such lovely hands that my eyes kept fixating on them through out the song @@ In the final, when the music started playing, everyone was waiting for Piko to come out as usual, but it was just a band playing a super long intro. The live house for the final has a smaller stage on the right side that looks like a small balcony. And when the intro finally ended, Piko walked out from there, wearing a long red dress (the same one he wore in luz’s event not too long ago). He looked so pretty in that dress that everyone could have mistaken him as a girl without knowing him before >w<.

After he sang Tokyo shinobizaki, the jinsei soudan session started. Every live he would pick 2 letters from the fans and read it out loud (in okama voice) and then gave advices to them. All the band members also helped him out (and they also spoke in funny voices lol). There are many interesting questions but I think I will write about them in a separate post. I will just mention a few moments here. In the Osaka live, one fan was asking about how to deal with a rebellious son. And Piko was like “hmm I dont know. Should I ask my own parents??” and then he looked to the back of the stage, raised his hand and shouted out “Mama~~”. Turned out his mom was also there and all the lights of the stage started pointing to her xDD she then said that she actually didnt have to deal with Piko’s rebellious phase cuz he was a super good kid and didnt have that phase at all xDD In the final, Piko randomly picked a guy from the audience and asked him if he has any questions. The guy didnt have any, but he said that he brought his daughter to the live to see Piko. And Piko, still wearing that dress, rephrases his words like “Oh, so papa likes me, and papa wants his daughter to like me too so he brought her here?” He then asked to see the daughter. We all expected like a little grown up girl but turned out she was a super tiny cute little girl xDDD and Piko was like “ok lets get married” lol

- Yoshiwara Lament: Normally Pikone only sang Tokyo Shinobizaki but in the final she sang this one too xDD

After the Pikone part, Piko got into the backstage and changed again.

When he was inside the big screen started playing and they played a part of Black Swan MV which is coming soon.

And they also announced on the screen a two-man live with Pokota on November 4th this year!

2nd encore:

- Thanatos

- Hypnos: As some of you might know, Thanatos is the god of death in Greek mythology. Hypnos is his twin brother. Hypnos is a god of sleep. Piko said that the tour is like a dream. And when this tour end, everyone will wake up from their dream, go back to their everyday life. Thanatos is his first CD ever released, but Hypnos is the future. He will keep moving forward and come back, being a stronger and newer Piko. He asked for a title call and wrapped up the live with that song.

After the live came the high touch. I did it 3 times. One time was in the first live in Nagoya. I didnt buy the CDs but one friend of mine was kind enough go give me one of her tickets. The high touch is super short. You touch hand with him and say one sentence or two and thats it. I kept thinking what to say in Nagoya and ended up telling him “I LOVE YOU” in English lol. Second time was in Fukuoka. I did’t plan to buy a CD that day but that was 3rd day of the 3-day-in-a-row lives that Piko performed in (Tour in Yokohama, Chan-gero Sonic, tour in Fukuoka). He sounded a little bit tired at the beginning in Fukuoka but he tried his best and still sounded wonderful till the end of the live. So I bought a CD to high touch and tell him how well he has done. I also asked him not to try too hard. And all the time he just gently smiled back and said Thank you. The fragrance left from his hands still linger on mine even after I left ;;

Another interesting event did happen to me and my friends in the final. After the live I went for dinner with a few Pikoots and on our way to the station, we were supposed to pass by the livehouse again. A taxi was running from behind us so we decided to stop and walked to the side to let it pass. Then that taxi stopped in front of the livehouse and turned out it was Piko’s taxi. So we saw him getting in the taxi so we waved at him and said good job. Of course we all freaked out after that, like not believing what just happened. It was a miracle, really xD

So that’s the end of my tour dream. I tried to keep this report short but you can see how long it has become. I feel like its still not half enough to write down everything I want to write but I hope it helps you understand how wonderful a live it was. There were a lot of cameramen during the final so I am secretly hoping there will be a DVD!

#piko #live tour #live report #pathfinder

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djinn-and-djuice · 6 years

Text

guess what? it’s more widofjord. this time featuring haircuts! what can I say, I’m a sucker for mutual pining and non-sexual intimacy. set during the trip back to Nicodranas between ep 47 and 48. (ao3 link)

[no spoilers, makes only vague mention of canon]

two bits

~*~

They don't talk, really; Caleb needs to concentrate and Fjord doesn't want to move too much. Nott's dagger isn't the best razor, sharp though it may be. The silence is comfortable, and they both enjoy listening to the happenings on the ship outside of their quiet oasis.

Having Caleb's undivided attention is almost a physical sensation. Fjord is used to scrutiny, used to hating it and shrinking from it, but this is different. As laid bare as he feels, the fact that Caleb is the one doing the looking is pleasant, even comfortable. Part of him is flattered, almost shy at the fact that Caleb will remember this moment forever.

He’d initially intended on having Beau help clean up the sides, given her experience maintaining her own haircut, but she’d been busy making the rounds with the crew to check in on the state of morale. Caleb had found him wandering the ship at loose ends and asked him what he was looking for. So now Caleb is here, shirtsleeves rolled past his elbows, somewhat paradoxical next to the bandages still wrapped up his arms, doing a damn good job cleaning him up.

Caleb's hands are careful and deft, brushing the long hair over the top and separating it from the shaggy sides. Once or twice he pauses to stroke it, raking his blunt nails against Fjord's scalp. It's not dissimilar to how he scratches Frumpkin, and Fjord understands why that cat purrs so damn loudly now. He almost falls asleep under Caleb's ministrations.

"Come on," Caleb murmurs, and if Fjord didn't know better he'd swear there was the hint of a laugh at the edge of his voice, "stay with me here."

"I'm trying, I promise," he replies.

"Alright," Caleb gently tilts his head around, guiding Fjord to look down at the floor while he cuts the back. He makes quick work of it, either that or Fjord zones out again and comes back as Caleb is brushing the stray hairs to the floor and taking Fjord's head in two gentle hands.

"Last bit, unless you want me to trim the top," he says, brushing everything into alignment. Fjord feels his fingers stall in the patch of salt at his temple, rubbing a small circle among the grey hairs.

"If you don't mind, could probably do with a trim there as well. Keep me looking ship-shape."

There's a lot they haven't discussed. Conversations that keep getting pushed aside in favor of more pressing concerns.

"Will do."

This is the first moment of quiet they've had in what feels like a month, and Fjord doesn't want to disturb it. The drag of the blade picks up again, and his thoughts simmer. All the words he wants to say are sitting on his tongue, but he forces them back for now. He wants to ask about Caleb’s plans, if he has anyone in the Empire he’s worried about now that the war has gotten worse, how he feels about everything that’s happened at sea so far. He wants counsel, wants to get some sense of where they stand.

He's noticed Caleb for a while; first as an intriguing unknown quantity, then as a source of arcane knowledge. More recently, however, things have shifted. Caleb has turned from a shady traveling companion to a trusted comrade and friend. Fjord has become keenly aware that, despite Caleb's claims to the contrary, behind the brusque and withdrawn shell lies a sincerely kind and charming man. And, well. Fjord isn't about to pretend that Caleb isn't handsome, under the dust.

Caleb brushes the stray trimmings back with a gentle hand and Fjord tries to keep from leaning into it too obviously.

"Hang on, let me just find some scissors. I'll be right back." He pats Fjord's shoulder and is out of the cabin without another word.

Fjord is seized by the sudden urge to bury his face in his hands and groan. Instead, he brushes his fingers over the freshly shaved sides and thinks. He doesn't want to upset this fragile balance they've found, but he's on his last nerve. The trouble is that for as comfortable as he seems to be with physical closeness, Caleb is powerfully skittish; and Fjord has no damn clue how he's going to react to this sort of thing. As much as he talks about "calculated risks" and seems willing to throw his lot in with this party for better or worse, he's not too keen on getting personal. Assuming Caleb would want to get personal with him is a leap he’s not sure he wants to risk.

And something like this would be very personal indeed.

Caleb comes back then, and Fjord twists in his seat to see him frowning at a pair of beat-up iron scissors.

"Something wrong?" Fjord asks.

"These are all that we had on board, but they’re terribly dull," Caleb says, and looking close, Fjord can see some decently sized nicks in the blade.

Before he can ask if Caleb has some sort of plan, he watches as Caleb props the scissors open with one hand. With the other, he pinches a blade between his fingers and slides them along the length of it. Fjord sees how the scissors shine with new life in the wake of this gesture, and it hits him that Caleb sharpened and repaired the blades with nothing more than a bit of magic and his bare hands. It's a casual display of delicate finesse and sheer arcane power, and Fjord’s mouth goes a little dry.

"So, just tidy it up?" Caleb asks as he tests the motion of the scissors, and Fjord takes a moment to realize he has to answer.

"Oh, uh- yes please." He collects himself a bit more. "That was mighty impressive."

It's Caleb's turn to be thrown for a loop now, and Fjord is treated to the sight of a blush dusting over his usually pale face. It's adorable.

"Just a bit of basic transmutation," he says, ducking his head and moving to stand directly behind Fjord.

"All the same, it's quite a skill," he says as he lets Caleb move his head to the angle he needs.

Caleb just hums in reply, which Fjord counts as a win. He sets to trimming, which is a more involved task than shaving. Caleb flits around Fjord, checking lines and making sure everything is even. Making conversation is easier, though, without a dagger behind his ear.

"How did you learn to do this?"

Caleb huffs softly, another not-quite laugh. "I used to cut quite a sharp figure in my youth."

Fjord believes it, too. He imagines what Caleb would look like now, with his hair cut and his scruff trimmed. He remembers how Caleb made himself look, that night they met Jester’s mother.

"I bet you were quite a looker," Fjord says. Those words he's been trying to hold back slip through his teeth and before he even knows what he's doing he says, "You're certainly one now."

The scissors pause mid-cut, and he sees Caleb's free hand freeze in his peripheral vision.

"You're just saying that because I have a pair of razor-sharp scissors next to your temple."

"I assure you I'm not," Fjord says, trying to snag control back over the situation, and the gentle snips resume. He can't see Caleb's face, which makes this both easier and harder to say. "I remember how you cleaned up, back in Nicodranas."

Caleb swings around to Fjord's front, to trim the not-quite-bangs he's been growing out. His focus is intense, but settled on the task at hand, and decidedly not making eye contact. His face is red as a brand.

"And I mean that," Fjord goes on, looking at Caleb's scarlet ear rather than his face. "Been meaning to tell you, but...well. Haven't really had the chance."

Caleb makes a couple more decisive snips of Fjord's hair, sets the scissors down and crouches to meet Fjord's seated eye level.

He stares at Fjord then, an intense searching gaze; like he's trying to see if Fjord is actually telling the truth. Whatever he sees there seems to satisfy him, and he reaches out to brush Fjord's hair back into place. It's a gentle gesture, even tender, at odds with the wrinkle in his brow.

“Is that all you’d been meaning to tell me?” Caleb asks, cocking his head.

There's a weight to that sentence that Fjord wasn't expecting. Fjord hears the meaning behind it, or at least he thinks he does. It almost feels like they're speaking in code, or thieves' cant. He's only working with half the codex, and any mistake would sink him. Asking to speak plainly would destroy the delicate balance, so all he can do is tread carefully.

“One of the things,” he says. He makes a gamble, and reaches a hand out to Caleb. He waits for a long second before Caleb’s hand settles into his and holds it. His hand is warm and calloused, and his long fingers lace together with Fjord’s.

"You are quite handsome yourself," Caleb says, his voice low, tentative almost. "I feel you don't need me to tell you that, though."

"It means more though, coming from you."

“Does it?” It’s not quite a question, and Caleb is looking at him a bit like Fjord is the puzzling one, like Caleb is the one worried and not quite sure where he stands.

The thought that he and Caleb have been dancing around each other this whole time, standing in the exact same position but somehow opposite, boggles him. The entire time, he’d thought his feelings would be, at best, unreturned.

“Yeah,” he says, trying to hide the shake in his voice at the sudden realization, “it really does.”

Apparently things could occasionally turn out better than he’d hoped. He grips Caleb’s hand a little tighter, dares to lean in a little closer.

“Anything else you need?” Caleb asks, and the smile on his face is a rare one, so gentle and peaceful, and Fjord would do anything to keep that smile on his face.

“Well, he says, tilting his head a bit, “There was one thing, if it’s not an imposition.”

Caleb’s eyes are impossibly blue. “I think I have some idea,” he says, “no imposition at all.”

His free hand comes up and traces along the line of Fjord’s jaw, pulling him in. The kiss is soft, sweet and tentative. When they part Caleb is staring at him again; that feeling of focus, of Caleb committing the moment to memory, pulls him in again for a second kiss, then a third.

There are plans to be made, and things they need to discuss before they get to port. But they don’t need to talk just yet. For now, they’ve said enough.

#critical role #widofjord #this is my critical role tag #this is my prose tag

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bombardthehq · 5 years

Text

Metaphysics

by Michael J. Loux

an elementary textbroof: notes are very brief

Introduction

He goes a little over the definition of metaphysics, which changes with time, so its also a bit of a history of metaphysics.

Aristotle called it just another 'departmental discipline’ like (Loux actually doesnt list any others- I’m assuming things like) geometry, politics... in this case, one that studies First Causes; central to it, God or the Unmoved Mover

He also calls metaphysics the study of being qua being, which means that it is not a departmental discipline but a study of everything in general

He notes that there might be confusion - that it is simaultaneously a study of everything and a departmental discipline of a particular thing - but says that it is only a seeming contradiction: its a departmental discipline that simply finds being qua being part of its own department. Or something.

This definition of metaphysics persisted among the scholastics etc. up until the rationalists, who’s metaphysics were quite differnet.

The rationalists (Spinoza, Leibniz...) accepted being qua being as the project of metaphysics (which they called general metaphysics) but included into it things like the nature of change/things that change (which they called cosmology), being “as it is found in rational beings” (which they called rational psychology), and being “as it is exhibited in the Divine” (which they called natural theology); all of these are considered special metaphysics.

These forms of metaphysics are today not really seen as part of metaphysics but part of other disciplines: natural theolgy belongs to the philosophy of religion, while rational psychology belongs to the philosophy of mind and the ‘theory of action’ (the latter of which covers free will). Loux doesnt give a correspondence for cosmology

The book focuses only on the general metaphysics, accordingly.

Loux also says there is a split in modern metaphysics between Kantian metaphysics and Aristotlean metaphysics. Kant argued that we cannot actually describe the world as it is, so metaphysics is not possible; but we can describe our conceptual frameworks for thinking about the world, which is the real task of metaphysics. So Kantian metaphysics describes our mental/sensory structures and not the world, whereas Aristoltean metaphysics attempts to describe the world.

Loux says that the Kantian argument is not convincing (just like that!) because if we cant describe the world, we also cant describe our frameworks and structures either. Loux is, ofc, a specialist in Aristotle - he discusses Kant only in a sarcastic tone throughout the entire book.

Anyway, this corresponds to the Realist [Aristotle] and Anti-Realist [Kant] debate

The Problem of Universals I Metaphysical Realism

There are two positions on the problem of universals: realists and nominalists

Realists say that when two things “are similar or agree in attribute”, then there is “some one thing” that corresponds that the two have in common (eg. two things that are red are the same red, and redness is a thing that exists)

These things are called Universals, which "encompass the proper- ties things possess, the relations into which they enter, and the kinds to which they belong”

Nominalists deny that universals exist

Loux says that for realists, “subject predicate discouse” and “abstract reference” support the existence of universals: without universals, we cant explain the truth of any subject predicate sentence or of any abstract reference

Realism and Nominalism

Loux says that we classify virtually everything: by colour (red things and yellow things...), by shape (triangles, circles...), by kind (elephants, oak trees...)

“Although almost everyone will concede that some of our ways of classifying objects reflect our interests, goals, and values, few will deny that many of our ways of sorting things are fixed by the objects themselves.”

Loux says that things ‘come that way’: we dont call some things circular and some things square simply arbitrarily but because they really are circular or square, “and our language and thought reflect these antecedently given facts about them.“

So ther are objective similarities between things prior to our classification of them: this is a “prephilosophical truism”, but which is the basis of some philosophical theorizing

Such as: say lots of things are yellow. Is there some more fundamental thing that, for lots of things to be yellow, has to also be true? That there is a “very general type” where an attribute agreement between two things obtains only because the general type obtains?

This is the ‘theory of forms’ per Plato’s Parmenides

“What is being proposed here is a general schema for explaining attribute agreement. The schema tells us that where a number of objects, a . . . n, agree in attribute, there is a thing, φ, and a relation, R, such that each of a . . . n bears R to φ, and the claim is that it is in virtue of standing in R to φ that a . . . n agree in attribute by being all beautiful or just or whatever.“

Lots of philosophers since Plato have used this formula, but usually do not call them ‘forms’ per Plato

Instead of saying it ‘partakes of a form’ they say that something instantiates, exhibits or exemplifies a particular property.

Plato’s formula is generally what is meant by ‘realism’: nominalists generally accept Plato’s account of attributes but argue that Plato’s formula (of forms/exemplification) has deep conceptual problems and attributes have to be understood on different terms, or say that attributes are a basic fact and no further analysis is possible

This chapter treats the Realist arguments

The ontology of metaphysical realism

Realists make two distinctions: between particulars and universals. Particulars are “things”, or specific things that ocucpy a specific spatial-temporal position, while univerals are “repeatable objects” that can be exemplified by multiple particulars, so that two houses can be (for the realist) the same red or that two cars can be the same shape. When two things agree in attribute, they both exemplify the same universal

The above universals are monadic, ie. a single particular can exemplify it, but some universals are polyadic, that is, the universal requires two or more particulars to be exemplified. This is called a relation, so that two things can be a mile apart, and many different things can all be a mile apart from each other, so a and b can have the same relationship as the relationship between c and d.

Those relations are symmetrical - both a and b bear the same relation to one another, ie. a is a mile from b and b is likewise a mile from a - but there can also be asymmetrical relations, ie. a is the father of b. Loux compares these to ‘ordered pairs’ in logic, ie. (a,b), an ordered pair of a and b in just that order.

Some realists make a distinction between universals which are properties - something being red or two things being a mile apart - and universals which are kind, ie. dogs. While something red posesses the quality red, something which is a dog belongs to the kind ‘dog’. Some realists do not accept kinds.

“kinds constitute their members as individuals distinct from other individuals of the same kind as well as from individuals of other kinds. Thus, everything that belongs to the kind human being is marked out as a discrete individual, as one human being countably distinct and separate both from other human beings and from things of other kinds.“

There are degrees of generality to attribute agreement, so that a cat and a dog are both alike in attribute by being mammals, but less alike in attribute than two dogs. “The more specific or determinate a shared universal, the closer is the resulting attribute agreement.“

Universals themselves can exemplify other universals, so that red, yellow and blue are all part of the kind colour, they all have the properties of tone and hue, and they might have relations like one being darker than the other, and degrees of generality such as red being closer to orange than blue.

“Thus”, Loux says, “the original insight that familiar particulars agree in attribute by virtue of jointly exemplifying a universal gives rise to a picture of consider- able complexity.” He writes: “Particulars and n-tuples of particulars exemplify universals of different types: properties, kinds, and relations. Those universals, in turn, possess further properties, belong to further kinds, and enter into further relations”

This structure, realists claim, can explain a wide range of phenomena. Loux will cosider just two arguments for this structure of universal realism: subject-predicate discourse and abstract reference.

Realism and predication

Loux gives three subject-predicate sentences:

1. Socrates is courageous 2. Plato is a human being 3. Socrates is the teacher of Plato

In 1, the word ‘Socrates’ refers to some real thing in the world, but ‘courageous’ only seems to modify what Socrates is. Realists say however that ‘courageous’ also refers to some real thing in the world--

because the truth of 1 depends on its correspondence to the real world, and both parts must correspond, ie. Socrates can only be courageous if there is a real Socrates who has this property, but Socrates can also only be courageous if there is a courageousness to have

so another sentence eg. ‘4. Plato is courageous’ is possibe, and the ‘courageous’ in 4 is the same predicate ‘courageous’ as in 1, and has the same relationship to its subject (’Plato’ or ‘Socrates’), so it must refer to the very same ‘courgeous’. This goes for all other similar sentences, so every subject and predicate are always referents

There are three types of predicate: the predicate (courageous) in 1 is a property, so that courage is a property of Socrates; the predicate (human being) in 2 is kind, so that Plato belongs to the kind human being; the predicate (teacher) in 3 is a relation, so that Socrates and Plato are related to each other

Loux notes that it is tempting to say here that predicates are names, just as Socrates is a name because ‘Socrates’ refers to a real thing in the world. He says this is most persuasive in a sentence like ‘This is red’ - ‘this’ names some real thing, so ‘red’ must also name some real thing- the colour red.

It does not work in most cases, however: ie. in ‘Socrates is courageous’, courageous is not a name for a universal, because the name is acutally ‘courage’.

While the above is about grammar, it rests on semantic roots. While names refer to one particular thing, predicates are general, so they “enter into a referential relation with each of the objects of which they can be predicated” - they are true of or satisfied by those objects

For realists, in addition to satisfying the objects they’re predicates of, they also express or connote a universal.

Predicates therefore express which objects belong to a set (ie. the set of things with the property courageous, or all things that belong to the kind dog), but it also identifies the universal “by virtue of which” it belongs to this set

The subject-predicate sentence can therefore be reorganized to contain two names, ie. ‘Socrates exemplifies courage.’ In general all ‘a is F’ sentences can be rephrased ‘a exemplifies F-ness’

The predicate therefore has a referential relationship to a universal that is weaker than naming but “parasitic on it”, called connotation or expression

Realists say that this account of subject-predicate sentences is natural, intuitive and satisfying because it “does what we want it to do” - it explains how these sentences can correspond to the real world - and also works the same way that attribute agreement does:

Predicates are general terms, and general terms also indicate cases of attribute agreement

Items that agree in attribute all exemplify a universal, and the general term that indicates attribute agreement connotes a universal.

The universal that the predicate connotes is also the universal that the subject exemplifies.

Realism and abstract reference

There are sentences which use ‘abstract singular terms’, such as ‘courage’ or ‘mankind’, ie. ‘Courage is a virtue’ or ‘Triangularity is a shape’ (what a thing to say!)

Intuitively, Loux says, the truth of a sentence like this depends on the existence of a universal that the ‘abstract singular term’ refers to, ie. in order for it to be true that ‘courage is a virtue’, there would have to be a real property for ‘courage’ to refer to which one can say is a virtue. This is the realist’s account of abstract singular terms. Abstract singular terms are the names of universals.

There are also sentences that dont involve abstract singular terms, such as ‘this tomato and this firetruck are the same colour’, which presuppose the existence of a universal, in this case the colour red. Or ‘some species are cross fertile’ presupposes the existence of those species. These sentences can only be true if the universal being presupposed is real

Similarly a sentence like ‘this shape is exemplified by many things’ presupposes the existence of a repeatable being (the universal)

This account is independent of the realist’s accout of predicates, but the account of predicates presupposes the account of abstract reference. Predicates connote universals because they can be rephrased as ‘a exemplifies F-ness’, and the realist argues that such a sentence can only be true if there is a real F-ness to refer to.

If there is a satisfactory nominalist account of abstract singular terms then both of these arguments for realism are less convincing. Many attempts at making such an account have been attempted (which will presumably be covered in the section on nominalism)

Restrictions on realism - exemplification

Up until now Loux has been writing as if the realist account applies to everything: that every predicate has a corresponding universal, and so on. Many realists however place restrictions on the account. They do this for a few reasons:

An unrestricted application leads to a paradox: say there is a predicate, ‘does not exemplify itself’ (simplified: is non-selfexemplifying). It is true that many things do not exemplify themselves (ex. the Taj Mahal does not exemplify the Taj Mahal), and therefore do exemplify being non-selfexemplifying, and some things do (ie. ‘is self-identical’ is self-identical), so do not have this property.

However, when the property is applied to itself, it creates a paradox: ‘is non-selfexemplifying’ is not self-exemplifying, so it exemplifes ‘is non-selfexemplifying’, which then means that it does exemplify itself, so cannot be non-selfexemplifying, which means that it doesnt, which again means... [Loux notes this is Russel’s Paradox, applied to properties rather than sets]

So, at least this one universal cannot be real [I don’t totally understand why this should be the case: why can there not just be a universal that is constantly vascilating between exemplifications, or twisting itself into a moebius strip-like shape? I need to read about Russel’s Paradox ie. why it is a paradox]

Another issue that arises is that exemplification results in an infinite regress. If a exemplifies F-ness, then a also exemplifies exemplifying F-ness, and then also exemplifies exemplifying exemplifying F-ness, and so on forever.

The same goes for the account of predication: if a is F can be rephrased a exemplifies F-ness, then...

[After reading this I wrote: why is this necessary a problem, cant there just be an infinite series of properties (which we might denote with an elipses, 'f-ness...', the mathematical symbol for 'repeating'?) - but then...]

Loux says that while many realists have treated this as a problem and attempted to solve it, it does not need to be. The realist can simply say that there are an infinite number of properties of exemplification (he says while it is a cycle, it is not ‘viscious’!) [Fools seldom differ!]

Realists who want to avoid the regress might simply say that exemplification is not subject to the realist’s account. They may also say that they are just giving a more “articulated” explanation of whats already going on rather than introducing a new object, and similarly, of predication, that ‘a is F-ness’ is semantically equivalent to ‘a is F’ and does not actually introduce a new exemplification that also exemplifies etc.

Another infinite regress appears in the realist account: we have said earlier that exemplification is a relation between a particular and a universal. Because relations are also universals, when we say that a exemplifies F-ness, we say that the two are related by exemplification, so we introduce another univeral, the relationship of exemplification. Because a and F are related by exemplification, we need “a higher form of exemplification ... to ensure that a and F enter into a relation of exemplification”, and so on...

Loux doesn’t see this as any more of a problem than the other regressions, but he says he is in the minority. Bradley, who first made this argument, made it to say that relations do not exist. Most realists instead say that exemplification is not a relation or any universal at all, but a nexus or linkage which is nonrelational.

Loux says that this has the bonus of making the earlier restrictions look less like “desperate ad-hoc attempts at avoiding paradox”, because exemplification is simply not a universal.

Further restrictions on realism - defined and undefined predicates

Loux says that some realists feel there is a problem with a predicate like ‘bachelor’. Bachelor refers to an ‘unmarried’ ‘male’ ‘human’, and nothing besides. Since these three predicates are already universals, ‘bachelor’ seems to be redundant: is it really a universal of its own?

Similarly, ‘unmarried’ is only the negative of ‘married’ - do we need a negative of another universal, isn’t it enough to say that a particular lacks the property of being married?

Based on this, some realsts have placed restrictions on what counts as a universal. They have separated ‘undefined’ predicates, which are totally primitive, not defined with reference to any other universal (ie. red just refers to red), and ‘defined’ predicates, like bachelor, which are defined with reference to universals, which they say are not themselves universals.

Dividing up what is and what isn’t defined however is often just arbitrary, up to the metaphysician who’s doing it. To get around this realists in the first half of the 20th century tended to take an ‘empirical’ position: the only universals that exist are physical, objects of sense-perception, such as colours, shapes... Everything else is defined with reference to these physical universals.

This approach has fallen out of favour however, mostly because it was unable to grapple with certain nonphysical things: eg. “the theoretical predicates of science” and “moral or ethical predicates”. Loux writes that they were forced to develop “highly improbable accounts” of these things, for example that ethical predicates were just a way of venting our emotions about actions and persons...

Another problem with separating undefined and defined predicates is that there are predicates that are definitely not primitive but are also not reducible to any component universals the way ‘bachelor’ is. He gives a very beautiful quote from Wittgenstein about games here, where he argues that there is nothing common to all games, but all are nonetheless still games.

Loux says that for some realists (citing himself!) this is simply no problem: there are universals which aren’t any particular physical thing, but also aren’t reducible to any physical thing. They simply accept things like games as valid universals.

Others do want to restrict what predicates are universals, but in a more considered way. They generally fall into a ‘scientific realist’ camp, and they say that universals are only those which are discoverable with the apparatuses of scientific inquiry.

There are two types: the more moderate says that while there are physical and non-physical universals, the physical universals dictate everything about the non-physical ones: “what physical relations it enters into determines uniquely what nonphysical kinds, properties, and relations it exhibits”, so that when you have described the physical universals proper to a particular, you have already given everything necessary for understanding it. In the metaphysicist’s jargon, non-physical universals superveine on physical ones. [He points to Jaegwon Kim’s ‘Concepts of Supervenience’ for help understanding this concept, which we should read!]

The more extreme are ‘eliminativists’ who believe that our language is a theory about the world, which like any other can be modified when it does not accord; they feel that the only things that exist are those outlined by the natural sciences, especially physics, and that our language should be brought into accord with that of physics, ie. when our language presumes something exists which is not explained by physics, we should think our language is inaccurate.

Are there unexemplified universals?

Realists are divided on this issue. Some realists (Plato among them, who Loux calls ‘Platonists’) say that there are unexemplified universals, and they divide them into two types: contingently unexemplified universals, eg. a shape that, simply, no particular has taken, etc., and necessarily unexemplified attributes, which cannot and never will be exemplified in the world, eg. being round and square at the same time.

Other realists (Aristotle among them, who Loux calls ‘Aristotleans’) only allow for exemplified universals, so that, per Aristotle, “if everything were healthy, disease would not exist.”

They have several objections to the Platonist’s account. They say that this view creates a kind of ‘two worlds’ ontology, where universals exist in some other world which we cannot access, and it is difficult to understand how the two worlds would ever be connected.

And they say that this world would not be epistemilogically accessible because these beings, in the universal realm, are outside of space and time, and we can only experience things in space and time: the knowledge would have to be a priori, and Aristotleans generally don’t accept a priori knowledge.

“As they see it, we grasp particulars only by grasping the kinds to which they belong, the properties they exhibit, and the relations they bear to each other; and we grasp the relevant kinds, properties, and relations, in turn, only by epistemic contact with the particulars that exemplify them.”

Aristotleans therefore do not think there can be unexemplified universals: the only universals that exist are those that can be found in concrete particulars.

Platonists counter that we should believe in unexemplified universals for the same reasons we believe in universals.

They say that if we believe that predicates of true statements refer to real universals, we should also believe they refer to real universals in untrue statements. So that when someone wrongly says that a exemplifies F-ness, and it is untrue because nothing does or can exemplify F-ness, our account of predication should still make us believe that F-ness exists whether or not it is exemplified: the same semantic argument for a predicate’s reference to a real universal goes wether or not the statement is true or false.

Platonists believe that all universals are necessary beings, while particulars are contingent beings.

Platonists argue that Aristotleans turn the issue of universals and particulars on its head, so that universals are brought into existence by particulars that exemplify them, while Platonists say that universals must precede particulars, and that undermining this also undermines the reasons to accept a realist position on universals in the first place.

Some Platonists do simply endorse the ‘two worlds’ view (and this probably includes Plato), but some don’t. They say that a nexus of exemplification ties universals and particulars together, which is a notion that both Aristotleans and Platonists are comitted to.

Epistemically, they argue, while some universals are unexemplified, many are, and those that are we can access empirically. Anything else we know about universals is extrapolated from our knowledge about the exemplified universals we do have access to. And if we cannot have knowledge of unexemplified universals, this is just how we expect it to go.

The Problem of Universals II Nominalism

Nominalists reject universals: they say that only particulars exist. Nomainlists find that the problems the realists seek to explain with universals, such as subject-predicate discourse and abstract reference, can be explained with particulars alone.

Loux says there are four main types of nominalist: the ‘austere nominalist’ who takes the most extreme position, that whatever seems to refer to a universal simply refers to something about a particular (he says that this view is not common because it encounters some problems); the ‘metalinguistic nominalist’, who says that some things that seem to refer to universals in fact refer to linguistic expressions; the ‘trope theorist’, who believes that there are such things as properties, but that properties are particulars (called tropes), so that the sentence ‘a is red’ indicates two particulars, a and its redness; and fictionalists, who say that talk about universals are fictional stories we tell.

The motivation for nominalism

Loux begins by asking why should anyone be a nominalist? He says that nominalists have a number of objections to the realist’s account, including:

That because universals can be exemplified by multiple things, believing in them forces us to believe in certain illogical things, eg. that somehting can be in multiple spatiotemporal positions at once, which is impossible, that we can say “redness is two meters from itself”, which is nonsensical, etc. [Loux says this argument is quite old, appearing in Parmenides]

That a universal’s identity cannot be defined in a way that isn’t circular, eg. we cannot say that U’s identity is all of the particulars that exemplify U, because another universal might be exemplified by the same set of particulars, eg. ‘mankind’ and ‘featherless biped’ are exemplified by identical particulars but are different universals. We can only indicate how these universals differ by utilizing more universals in our explanation, so we cannot provide a general identity account for universals.

That, as mentioned in the last chapter, believing in universals leads to a regress, which nominalists say is vicious, and that universals lead to epistemological problems, because we cannot access them as spatiotemporal beings.

However, Loux says, none of these shoud be quite enough to push someone to nominalism. He then answers each of the arguments against realism (being a realist, nach):

Many realists deny that the things we are made to believe in the first case are illogical. While such things are impossible for particulars, they are simply possible for universals. [Bertrand Russel gave the example of ‘being north of’, which relates Edinboroguh to London, but “there is no pace where we find the relation ‘north of’ ”, so that particulars can be somewhere but universals are not anywhere]

Some realists attempt to answer the second case, and find that some universals can be given an identity which is not circular, such as sets in mathematics: a and b are identical if a contains all of the same things as b... However, Loux says, most universals are not like sets. His argument is that this demand for an account of identity is unfounded, and that many things cannot have a noncircular identity, ie. a material object. Trying to give an identity to a material object may mean, for example, saying that it occupies a particular spatiotemporal space, and so whatever it is in that space is the object, but it is not possible to do this without reference to the object itself (because it is in that space)... [I guess?]

The last argument has ofc already been addressed.

Loux says that while the nominalist might not find these responses convincing, they are not enough to defeat realism, and should not be enough for anyone to become a nominalist alone. Furthermore they are all technical points, and nominalists are usually not nominalists for technical reasons. Why, then, is anyone a nominalist?

Loux writes that nominalists tend to see metaphysics as something similar to the natural sciences: able to give theories which account for phenomena. If there are two theories that satisfy the phenomena equally, then one has to decide on which theory to support based on something else. Nominalists usually prefer the nominalist theory because it is the simpler, it posits fewer entities: while metaphysicians have to believe in ‘two worlds’, the particular and the universal, nominalists only have to believe in particulars. This was, ofcourse, the argument for nominalism given by the founder of nominalism, William of Ockham, with his famous razor.

Austere nominalism

What nominalists allow into their ontology varies: many nominalists view humans, plants etc. as particulars, while some (of the ‘eliminitavist’ type) might only admit quarks, neutrons... [Loux really only deals with the former even though he says otherwise]

Austere nominalists claim that attributes are simply primitive facts about the world and do not need further analysis: particulars can just be that way. The sentence ‘Socrates is courageous’ is true simply if Socrates is that way.

This is how they account for subject-predicate discourse: while for the realist the predicate can only accurately describe the particular if it corresponds to a real universal the particular has, enters into or belongs to, for the austere nominalist the predicate just describes the way that the particular is.

If the object is raised that they are saying something trivial (’Socrates is courageous’ is true if Socrates is courageous), they argue that this should be expected, and besides, the realist’s account is also trivial, since when they say ‘Socrates is courageous is true if Socrates exemplifies courage’, they have just reworded the sentence, it expresses the same thing. The sentence simply is trivial, there is no further explanation that can be given to it, its just a primitive part of our ontology.

How do they deal with abstract reference, then? ie. ‘Courage is a virtue’. For Loux, this is where they run into problems.

While the realist says that abstract reference presupposes a real thing to refer to, ie. courage is a real universal, the nominalist says that all these sentences can be translated into some other sentence. ‘Triangularity is a shape’, for example, becomes ‘things which are triangular are shaped objects’, ‘red is a colour’ becomes ‘things which are red are coloured objects’...

However, a sentence like ‘courage is a virtue’ poses a problem: it cannot be translated to ‘courageous persons are virtuous persons’, because one might imagine a courageous person who is otherwise a bad one. The particulars that are courageous do not seem to be able to account for courage in this sentence.

Nominalists might, Loux suggests, make use of ceteris paribus - all other things being equal courageous persons are virtuous persons.

Loux gives an explanation for why ceteris paribus doesn’t actually work here that I do not understand: he says that there is no guarantee that our language has enough predicates to enumerate all theways everything else is equal (ie. we may not have words for all the other virtues that would have to be equal), sp that nominalists have to just insist that the ceteris paribus cannot be analyzed further. The things which are equal cannot be anticipated. [It just seems kind of ridiculous - who cares if we dont know them all, aren’t they all equal anyway when we say ceteris paribus?]

There are however some sentences using abstract reference that austere nominalists simply cannot account for, eg. ‘some species are cross-fertile’

At this point the austere nominalist might argue that our common sense expressions might be wrong, and anyway, platonic metaphysicians have been speaking that way for so long that some of it might have got in. Our language might just be inaccurate, and this shouldn’t trouble us. [Quine took this view]

This nominalist, Loux notes, has a different metaphilosophy than the one we’ve been arguing with up to now. For the other, the fact that nominalism contradicts our common sense would be troubling.

Regardless, Loux says, even if ways are found to account for these like these, and the problems are circumvented, the austere nominalist account does not really succeed in being simpler. The austere nominalist has to leave many things simply unanalysable and primitive, and sentences using abstract references are translated on an ad-hoc basis. The realist account can offer explanations for more things, and can provide a systematic translation of those sentences. Therefore while the nominalist account postulates fewer entities, it has a more cumbersome explanatory framework.

Metalinguistic nominalism

There are nominalists who want to find a nominalism that has both ontological and explanatory simplicity. Many of these nominalists do so by making a different account of abstract reference: that abstract reference refers to linguistic features rather than to universals.

This position is as old as the very first nominalist, the 13th century philosopher Roscelin, and it was built upon by Abelard and Occam. It did not however find its fullest expression until the second half of the 20th century.

Loux discusses Carnap’s version here: for Carnap, abstract reference that seem to refer to universals really refer to things like verbs, adverbs, etc. So ‘Courage is a virtue’ becomes ‘Courage is a virtue predicate’, or ‘Triangularity is a shape’ becomes ‘Triangular is an adjective’. They all refer to the way that the word is used in the language. So ‘man’ is not a universal but just an adjective, etc.

This version manages to be systematic and to translate sentences about abstract reference all in the same way. Contrary to the austere nominalist, the metalinguistic nominalist agrees with the realist about how such sentences can be true (ie. they correspond) and only differ in terms of what they correspond with (ie. with the way the words are used rather than the way the world is)

Loux raises two problems with Carnap’s account, however: 1. no sentence of this type can be translated under this theory. A sentence in english is only true because it is true of an English word. A sentence refering to how ‘man’ is used does not also refer to how ‘hombre’ is used, etc. 2. That Carnap actually still posits some universals:

Loux introduces here the notion of ‘tokens’ and ‘names’. Tokens are any particular utternace, ie. two peope who say ‘lion’ say two different things taken individually, both lions are ‘token’. But they both use the name ‘lion’. So a token refers to the particular and name to the general case.

Carnap, then, seems to posit the universal of ‘man’ as apart from each individual utterance of ‘man’, ie. there is the name man to which we can refer, which is separate from each instance of the word man which is spoken. The word ‘man’ is then a repeatable entity, a multiply instantiable entity.

Sellar’s theory, Loux says, solves both these problems. [Throughout this section Loux speaks of Sellars in tones of awe and admiration]

Sellars says that, rather than abstract reference being a reference to how a word is used, refers to the total of the tokens all taken together as particulars, in a way that does not refer to a universal. The example he gives here is ‘the lion is tawny’ (’the lion’ as in ‘the animal we call the lion’, not ‘that lion’): a universal (the kind ‘lion’) cannot be tawny, it is only the particular lions that can be tawny. But if all lions are tawny it is true to say ‘the lion is tawny’. Similarly that ‘the American citizen has rights’ obviously refers to every citizen in particular.

So abstract references are really distributed singular terms.

In this way, sentences with abstract reference can be translated, because they just refer to all the given tokens of a word. The word can be translated into its equivalent word in another language and statements about it will still be true about all the tokens.

Sellars demonstrates this by using special ‘dotted quotes’ to indicate a distributed singular term, which is the same in all langages. So -red- means red, rouge, etc. and it is possible to speak of -red-s, of -man-s, etc. (the way one might when one says ‘there are 24 mans in chapter 16′ to refer to instances of the word man)

Loux says that this is a very complete and developed theory, perhaps the most complete, and discussing all of it is outside the scope of the book. There are however still some objections for realsts (such as, ultimately, Loux himself), in particular:

That Sellars position seems to commit him to another type of universal. If what makes all individual -F-s the same is that they play the same role in each language, “isn’t Sellars committed to the existence of linguistic roles” ie. a kind, a universal, the same “linguistic role” that words exemplify in many languages?

Sellar’s objection is that when he says ”linguistic expressions” is just a paraphrase is what he really means, which is really a longer and more complex analysis of languages [in which “there are no linguistic expressions, only individual speakers and inscribers”]. Realists doubt this analysis.

Trope nominalism

Trope nominalists differ from the others because they argue that attributes do exist, but that they are also particulars. If a truck is red, it has the property redness, but this redness is not the same redness that the tomato has. The tomato and the truck eac have a numerically different particular attribute which is, fine, identical in every way, but nonetheless a different thing. These identical but numerically different attributes are called tropes.

The idea that attributes are particulars themselves appears in the work of Occam, Hume, Locke and “arguably” Aristotle, although the term ‘trope theory’ didn’t appear until the 20th century.

He gives a nice quote from D.C. Williams to demonstrate it:

The sense in which Heraplem and Boanerp [two lollipops] “have the same shape” and in which “the shape of one is identical with the shape of the other” is the sense in which two soldiers “wear the same uniform” or in which a son “has his father’s nose” or our candy man might say “I use the same identical stick, Ledbetter’s Triple-X, in all my lollipops.” They do not “have the same shape” in the sense in which two children “have the same father” or two streets have the same manhole in the middle of their intersections or two college students “wear the same tuxedo” (and so can’t go to dances together).

A strength of trope nominalism is that we can talk about how we can look at, in Loux’s example, the Taj Mahal, and we can focus on the colour of the Taj Mahal. We aren’t thinking of the Taj Mahal in general, where the Taj Mahal just happens to be a coloured object, we are really thinking about its colour specifically. Trope theory can account for this by allowing attributes in a way that other nominalists cant.

Loux asks how the trope nominalist accounts for predication and abstract reference? He says that trope nominalists could use the same sort of eliminativist argument that the other nominalists used, and that Occam did this, but most trope nominalists do not do this.

Instead they argue that abstract reference is acutally a name, and that it names sets of particular attributes. They can therefore talk about sets such as ‘wisdoms’ or ‘reds’, called sets of resembling tropes, that abstract references to courage and red refer to.

They argue that these sets are not universals because of the difference in their identity conditions: set a is identical to set b ‘just in case’ they share all of the same members of the set. So if all the members of set a are also in set b, set a and set b are the same set. This is not the case for universals: if all dogs are good dogs, ‘dogs’ and ‘good dogs’ are still two different universals (my example, nach)

[I need to find out what ‘just in case’ means, it comes up a lot but Loux doesn’t define it]

This is an advantage for the trope nominalist because the other forms of nominalists have to reject set theory and other things in mathematics, which is problematic.

While we have “just scratched the surface” of trope theory, Loux indicates that it is a sophisticated theory that can be both systematic and simple, and accounts for more things than metalinguistic nominalism can. He then gives a couple of criticisms of it:

The first is a fairly complicated one. Some have argued that for the trope theorist, the set of attributes possessed by a fictional being must be empty, because there is no such being. This means that the set of attributes that a Unicorn has and the set of attributes that a Griffin has are both the same set, the null set, and this means that a Unicorn and a Griffin would be the same thing, which, of course, they aren’t.

Loux says the trope theorist can however just say that there simply isn’t such a thing as being a Griffin or being a Unicorn, and therefore “the corresponding abstract singular term doesn’t name anything at all” - he says this is the same sort of argument that the ‘Aristotlean’ realist makes when they argue that there are no unexemplified attributes.

The next objection is that because a set is necessarily only the members of its set, and just those members, then every set that exists now is that way necessarily, ie. the number of humans that there are right now is a necessary fact, there could not be more or less humans. This, of course, isn’t true, so poses a problem for the trope theorist. To Loux’s knowledge no trope theorist has responded to this argument.

In a footnote Loux gives a possible way around the problem: they could argue that, say, wisdom is not identified with the set of wisdoms in the actual world, but with a theoretical set of wisdoms in all possible worlds.

Fictionalism

This section is very short and Loux is quite dismissive of it, which I think is a little unjustified.

Fictionalists argue that statements about universals are fictional, and they can be true with respect to the fiction they’re part of. So ‘Socrates exemplifies courage’ can be true in the way that ‘Achilles slew Hector’ is true, because its true within a fictional context.

Loux doesn’t really address why they think that they’re fictional or what it means. He seems to interpret it as them saying metaphysics are ‘just makeblieve’ and that mathematics are too. We should read about them on our own!

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