#now idk if this persists throughout the entire series but still!!!

[xxhatchetxx]

SUBTLE THING I JUST NOTICED THATS VERY NICHE TO ME SPECIFICALLY!!!!!!!

The linework for backgrounds on earth are chaotic and messy. Lines vary much much more in size, width, curves and ridges and the outline thickness tends to never make logical sense

Meanwhile everything that's irken based is neat and formal. Lines make more sense and are very smooth and regulated throughout. Outline thickness makes much more sense here and usually follows traditional “rules”

I think that’s such a great detail that adds so much story to both sides

#im SURE this has been pointed put before but- #hey im a layout artist and i think its neat #now idk if this persists throughout the entire series but still!!! #love the subtle detail #invader zim

[polarishq]

Meet INGRID PELLETIER. They are of UNKNOWN age and origin. Ingrid embodies the star, STERRENNACHT. They use she/her pronouns. Their faceclaim is LILY COLLINS.

Sterrennacht reminds me of hair ribbons, grease and dirt caked beneath trimmed fingernails, an emergency bag packed next to the door (just in case), the inherent trauma of being a first-born daughter, an elaborate tea collection, peterpan collars and mary janes, anachronisms, the sting of a lost childhood, clothes carefully chosen to hide scars, please and thank yous, and always knowing where the nearest exit is.

BIOGRAPHY

Before we begin, it would be negligent of me not to warn you about the misfortunes that follow the Pelletier family. While many in the magical world are lucky to have childhoods filled with joy, a stable household, and shoes not worn through from running, that is not the case here. I urge you to turn back now, lest you be plagued with the recap of the Pelletier siblings’ lives.

It wasn’t always spent constantly looking over their shoulders. On the contrary, the circumstances of their birth are rather extraordinary. First came Ingrid, then her brother, and a few years down the line they were completed with another sister. The Pelletier parents were a well-off family, in a well-off time and place that has long since been forgotten by their children. They still remember their parents faces and their father’s laugh lines and their mother’s contagious laugh, but small details like their ages and hometown were lost along the way.

While all of the children were bright, polite, and pleasant to look at, each possessed their own unique interests in addition to their star mark. For Ingrid, this was in the fomr of an inquisitive mind that worked by breaking down the things around her to their most basic structures. She was, and remains, an inventory, focused on what she can contribute to make people’s day-to-day lives (and, by extension, their overall lives) easier.

Some time in her early adolescence, by a serendipitous (a word which here means lucky without intending to be) turn of events, Ingrid and her siblings were down at the beach when their lives went up in smoke. Up In Smoke is usually a metaphor referring to a disaster, but in this case it is both metaphorical and literal. A long-time family acquaintance met the children at the beach to inform them their their family home had caught fire with their parents still inside. In an instant, the Pelletier children became the Pelletier orphans, setting off a chain of events that none could have ever wanted.

They founds themselves in the custody of a man who claimed to be a distant relative, though none of the children had ever met him before. He had no intention of raising the children, and instead put them to work and only provided them with the bare minimum to survive. Through researching and digging behind his back, the Pelletiers discovered that he was biding time until he could collect their large family inheritance, something he planned to ensure by ultimately marrying Ingrid. They managed to thwart his plan but before the man could be locked up, he escaped, and the children were shuffled to a new home.

This too proved to be a tragic home. The man who was after their inheritance was a master of glamour spells, effectively making himself invisible to most adults. He followed them from home to home, a new disguise every time and leaving the Pelletiers’ latest caregivers in body bags. The details are far too grizzly to go into, and won’t do anything but make you want to settle down with a cup of calming oolong tea while reading a story much happier than this one (might I recommend Curious George?) Eventually, the Pelletier children were framed for crimes they did not commit and went on the run altogether. With no adults to protect them and their magic just coming to fruition, they only had each other and their own resilience to depend on.

Their series of unfortunate events had them traveling far and wide (through questionable academies, half-completed hospitals, travelling carnivals, and even to icy summits) and meeting many people along the way, both friend and foe. Eventually, their final encounter with the man landed them on an island, where he succumbed to death by a combination of a very fungal disaster and a wound from a harpoon gun.

One would think that with their nemesis gone, it would be nothing but clear skies ahead for the Pelletiers. And in a way, it was. In the time they spent escaping his clutches, Ingrid had turned old enough to receive their inheritance and their family was able to form some semblance of sanity. All is well that ends well, yes?

No. For while the Pelletier children were finally safe and financially secure, they had still spent many of their years not knowing if they would life to see the next day. Ingrid in particular, being the oldest, has utilized her skill set to continue protecting her younger siblings long after their biggest tormentor has died. Her learned suspiciousness coexists with the kindness taught to her by her parents, and the two often go toe-to-toe in her brain.

When a child learns a lack of trust at an early age, it often persists. Ingrid was somewhere inbetween, young enough to cling mistrust yet old enough to process her trauma as an outlier. Rationally knowing this, her choice to move their family to Polaris was born out of a want to reclaim their own lives. Not as the Pelletier orphans, three children who had dealt with danger after danger. But as the Pelletier siblings, each resilient and good and strong in their own merit, capable of moving forward.

Rather or not Ingrid has actually begun to move forward is up for debate.

INCLINATION

Sterrennacht cares not for what element a witch users, but rather what they are able to do with that magic. Its been known to gift scholars and innovators; the magical historian who proposed the name did so believing that Van Gogh himself had once been gifted with it. Sterrennacht gives it users the ability to see limitless possibilities around them, breaking things down to the bare bones and recongifuring them. They are often highly skilled in transfiguration but physical mechanics also come naturally to them. They do tend to struggle with more abstract forms of magic, such as Charms and offensive magic. In addition, Sterrennachts often get stuck with a bad case of tunnel vision, and can hyper-fixate on one task longer than necessary.

CONNECTIONS

Younger Siblings: Ingrid’s younger (by a small number of years) brother and her baby sister. They had a close relationship during their childhood and depended on each other all throughout their misfortunes, and Ingrid will do whatever she needs to protect them. However they view her is entirely UTP!!! While Ingrid is based on Violet Baudelaire and I would love her siblings to be reminiscent of Klaus and Sunny, itheir personalities and interests are also entirely UTP!!! Just let me love them!!

Survivors Stick Together: Another person (or group!!! lbr this is implying the Quagmire Triplets!!!) who the Pelletiers met a few times over the course of their lives, including some dire situations. There’s a particular bond that exists between people who experience difficult situations together, and while they may not have had constant contact prior to remeeting at Polaris, Ingrid considers this person (or family) an extension of her own.

idk this bio took entirely too long and my brain is hungry i’ll edit this with a third one later but i’m posting it anyway

Penned by Jeanne ★

#student. #air. #jeanne. #sterrennacht. #taken.

[langdvnshepherd]

Good For You ~ Part 4 (Duncan Shepherd x fem!reader)

PART ONE ~ PART TWO ~ PART THREE

Summary: You’re a broke ass college student whose one night stand with the infamous Duncan Shepherd leads to the development of a rather interesting relationship between the two of you. — Duncan puts you in an uncomfortable situation that leaves you torn between confessing your truth or walking away from it all.

Word Count: 9.8k (I’m sooo sorry omg)

Warnings: sugar daddy!Duncan, fem!reader, angst, smut, fingering, oral (female receiving), daddy kink

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but here it is! The final chapter (blowing nose emoji). It’s long as hell so I’m kinda sorry about that, but I just had a lot I wanted to include! Also even though it’s deadass like a novel, I still feel like I kinda rushed it?? idk lmk your thoughts I guess. I’ve loved writing this series and I’m sad to see it go, but it’s definitely time to move on lmao. I want to give another shoutout to @avesatanormalpeoplescareme for the inspiration for this chapter you truly saved my life again! Also to @belusima (she doesn’t know it but I left her a lil surprise in here hehehe). I barely proofread this and wrote most of it literally at 5 o’clock this morning so if you notice any major mistakes pls don’t roast me. Thank you all so much for the notes and kind words regarding this fic and my other work! I truly appreciate it from the bottom of my heart. (gif credit to m-langdon666)

     Three aggressively persistent knocks on your door sent you jolting out of bed one morning. It was early, at least to you. Maybe your roommate stayed out last night and was finally coming home, but other than that you had no idea who could possibly need your attention at this hour. Rising from your bed with a loud yawn and stretch, you reluctantly made your way out of bed and towards the door of your tiny apartment. You must not have been moving fast enough for their liking, because three more rattles on the cracked paint of your front door echoed throughout the apartment not long after the first.

     “I’m coming! Jesus,” you muttered, picking up your pace and swiftly running to the door. As you passed the mirror in your hallway, you catch a glimpse of your current state: hair knotted from tossing side to side on your pillow, eyelids puffy from sleep, nipples peaking through the thin fabric of your thin, ratty university t-shirt in the cool air of your apartment. Definitely not presentable by any means, but whoever was beating on your door at this ungodly hour needs your attention and they need it now.

     Fully expecting to see your roommate on the other side, you unlatched the chain lock and forcefully flung the door open. She was really in for it thinking she could stay out all night and come home whenever she pleased, waking up the entire building as she did. Ready to lecture her about leaving her keys at home and the danger she puts herself in by partying through the morning at frat houses, you were instead greeted by a different set of eyes. 

     “Duncan?”

     The morning sun pierced through the shade of aqua, turning them an almost glacier-blue shade in the light. He had one arm propped against the door frame, the other rubbing against on the scruff on his neck. Clad head to toe in the most expensive black coat and pants money could buy, he looked so obscure standing in the doorway of your tiny, run-down apartment building. But nonetheless, he looked perfect. Upon hearing your voice, he perked up instantly and the word vomit began.

     “Y/N. Is this a good time?” The way his leg was anxiously twitching made you think his question was more of a courtesy, and that he was coming in whether you responded or not. 

     “Uhh,” looking down at your bare feet and legs, you crossed your arms across your chest hoping to mask your horrendous appearance from Duncan as much as possible, “Yeah, come in.” You stepped away from the entrance and he swiftly entered your living room, making sure to shut and lock the door behind him.

     “I’m about to ask you to do something, and I need you to help me out. Okay?” In this moment, both you and Duncan realized he had never been inside of your apartment. He took in the setup before him, recognizing pieces scattered throughout the space that he had purchased for you. An Oscar de la Renta coat hanging on the rack by the door, your Macbook resting open on the side table by the sofa, the high-end coffee maker he’d sent you after casually mentioned your old one had finally bit the bullet. It looked exactly the way he’d pictured it, bits and pieces of luxury scattered amongst the dingy, outdated furniture and appliances.

     “Okayy?” you responded, although it came out as more of a question than an answer. You’d never seen Duncan look so distraught before. He was pacing back and forth like he might explode if he stood in place for too long.

     “I got a phone call this morning,” he began. “Apparently, the lady in charge of our family’s finances saw my bank statement from our little... trip to Paris and got suspicious. She went digging and found everything. For whatever fucking reason, she took it upon herself to alert my mother. Thought maybe my card got stolen or something. Why she thought that was my mother’s business I have no fucking clue. So, I have spent the better half of this morning trying to make sure my mother didn’t have a stroke from how mad she was when she found out." Blood rushed to his face as he babbled on, his neck turning an irritated shade of pink. 

     You stood there, leaning against the arm of the sofa, legs crossed in front of you, still holding your arms in front of your chest. You were trying to process what Duncan had just said, but you were still fairly confused. His mother had found out about you. Did this mean he came here to call it off? Why would she be mad? Duncan is a grown man that can spend his money as he pleases.

     “And sooo what is it that you need me to do exactly?” 

     Duncan took a deep breath before finally turning to face you head on. He had been too apprehensive to look you in the eyes from the minute he walked into your living room. “She backed me into a corner. She kept asking if I’m being blackmailed for money or if I’ve been hiring hookers and I didn’t really know how to explain it to her without it being completely fucking embarrassing so I just told her that I’ve been seeing someone. Then she freaked out. Said she wanted to meet whoever it was. Told me to bring them to the event we’re having this weekend.”

     You cocked your eyebrow at him, still not understanding.

     “Y/N, I wouldn’t be here this early in the morning if it wasn’t important. I need you to go to that event with me...and pretend we’re together. Just for my mother’s sake. We don’t have to stay long, just long enough to say a couple words to her. Prove that you’re real. Then we can go and I’ll never ask you to do something like this ever again. Whatever you want, consider it yours. I just need you to do this. For me.” The pleading look in Duncan’s eyes was almost comical. He was scared of his mother. It was clear at that moment that he cared way too much about what his mother thinks for someone his age. For what reason, you weren’t sure.

     “I...uh...wow, Duncan.” You felt a twinge in your stomach that was hard to explain. Maybe it was just nerves from having all of this sprung on you just moments after waking up, or maybe it was because the thought of pretending to be Duncan Shepherd’s girlfriend for a night was enough to make you hurl. Your feelings about Duncan were becoming harder and harder to ignore since Paris, and you weren’t sure how doing this would make you feel afterward.

     “I’m not sure I can...I don’t know if-”

     “I know. I fucked up. But please don’t make me beg.” It felt like he was staring into your soul. He had never looked this desperate in the entire time you’d known him. You really wanted to be hesitant, to say no. It wasn’t a good idea, it didn’t do anything to help your situation. But who were you kidding, he could have asked anything of you, and you would have come running.

     “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll be there.”

     Duncan let out a loud sigh and closed his eyes in relief. “Thank you. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have someone drop off a dress, just be ready by 7 on Saturday.”

     “Okay,” you replied, unsure of saying anything else.

     “Okay,” he repeated, satisfied with your compliance. “I’ll see you then.” Duncan approached you, taking your elbows in his hands. It was a gentle, gesture of gratitude, but it made your stomach flip.

     “Thank you. Again. I mean it.” He rubbed circles on your arms as he spoke. You looked up to meet his eyes once again, his gaze making your heart rate skyrocket. 

     You nodded in response, casually rolling your shoulders to shake yourself out of Duncan’s grasp. He took this as an opportunity to leave, making his way towards the door as his dress shoes tapped against the vinyl floor. He turned his back to take one last look at you before leaving.

     “See ya,” you called out. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, a slight smile appearing on his face.

     “Bye, Y/N,” he all but whispered as he shut the door behind him and went about his day.

-

     You sat in the limo more or less pondering your entire life, and how you’d ended up in this situation. If you would have told yourself 5 years ago, hell, even a year ago that you’d be in this position, you’d laugh at how insane you sounded. Not only had you accidentally found a sugar daddy, if that’s what you want to call it, but you’d also managed to catch feelings for him. Where he once was nothing more than a business arrangement, he now encompassed nearly your every thought. 

     There was a war going on inside your brain. Part of you wanted things to go back to the way they were when Duncan called on you once a week to fuck and sent you expensive gifts afterward. No strings attached, just fucking. The other part of you wanted clarity, to know how Duncan felt. If you confessed your feelings, would Duncan reciprocate? Could the two of you actually be together? If you weren’t on the same page, would he break it off? Cut you out of his life and leave you a broke, struggling college student? 

     The conversation you had with your roommate just minutes before Duncan arrived in the limo echoed in the back of your mind.

     “You HAVE to tell him how you feel,” she exclaimed, with a little more sass than you were expecting.

     “It’s not that simple!” you argued back. 

     You had finally let her in on everything that had happened with Duncan. The incident with the frat boy, the trip to Paris, that drunken night, the stolen glances, the event you were about to attend and pretend to be his girlfriend for the night. She was convinced Duncan felt the same way you did, but you weren’t sold on the idea.

     “But it is though! Come on, Y/N. What you said makes perfect sense. He likes you. He has to. When all of this shit started, it was strictly business. I remember. But now he’s acting all weird and shit and it just doesn’t add up. He either likes you or he’s been buttering you up to kill you this entire time.”

     “That’s not funny.”

     “Yeah, well, neither are you with your little ‘poor me’ attitude. You should just tell him how you feel. What’s the worst thing that would happen? He doesn’t feel the same, and he breaks it off. I highly doubt you would ever run into him again. Plus, think about what would happen if he liked you too. You wouldn’t have to hide in his apartment or in hotel rooms every night. You could actually spend time with him outside of the pillow talk you have right before you leave. And I mean I know this might be a sensitive subject buuttttt...imagine all of the shit he would buy you if you were actually dating. I mean we’re probably talki-”

     “Okay, that’s enough. Thanks. I get it.” Her rambling made you feel ill. Maybe she had a point. For something that started out so harmless, it was now eating you alive. “I just don’t see it ever working out. I’m a college student who barely has her shit together and he’s apparently a member of the most influential fucking family in America besides the goddamn president. We don’t go together,” you babbled, emphasizing your points with elaborate hand gestures.

     “Tell you what,” your roommate started, “This...event? Is it?” You gave her a confirming nod from your place at the end of your bed. “Okay, so if you’re pretending to be Duncan’s girlfriend tonight, why don’t you just multitask and figure out whether or not you’d even want to be with him? You’ll be out with him in public, where everyone can see. You’re getting to meet his mother. It’ll be like you’re actually together. If it goes well and you could see yourself doing something like this again, you should tell him how you feel. If you hate it, you should break it off. You shouldn’t let a man take up this much of your time if he’s making you feel like this.”

     Damn, why was she always right?

     A gentle squeeze on your kneecap drew you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Duncan staring at you from his side of the limo with concern washed over his features.

     “You okay?” he asked. “You’re looking a little spaced out.”

     “Yeah,” you enthusiastically nodded, hoping to put up a persuasive front and not let Duncan know the internal chaos going on in your body. “Just a little nervous.”

     “Me too. It shouldn’t be that bad though. Don’t worry about it too much. I’ll try to do most of the talking. My mother will probably ask you what you do or what your thoughts are about the wine selection. Whatever you do, just try not to mention the...nature of our relationship.” 

     And what exactly is the nature of our relationship? you thought to yourself.

     You absentmindedly picked at the beading on your gown as the limo ascended the winding, cobblestone driveway of the venue. It was a country club of some sorts, so you were dressed to the nines. The dress Duncan had picked out for you was modest enough to meet his mother in, yet showed off just enough skin to still make you feel sexy. 

    Duncan seemed to think so too, given that his eyes nearly fell out of his head when he picked you up at your apartment building. He knew he had good taste, but he was always taken back by how beautiful you looked.

     As the limo came to a halt, Duncan was the first out. He quickly straightened out his suit and made his way over to your side of the car, opening the door for you like the gentleman he was.

      “Ready?” he questioned, placing both of his hands on your shoulders to smooth out the creases in your gown from the ride over. It was a gentle and soothing gesture that made your heart beat in your ears.

      You looked him up and down one last time before looping your arm around his. He looked perfect, as always. Dressed in all black, and not a hair on his curly head out of place. It was styled differently this time, quaffed back instead of resting to the side. His scruff had been cleaned up around the edges, meaning he was really trying to make an impression on his mother with you by his side.

      “Ready.”

      You joined Duncan at the elbow and waltzed into the french doors of one of the largest country clubs you’ve ever seen, unsure of where the night would lead you.

-

     The ballroom of the country club must have been bigger than your entire childhood home. The ceilings felt like they were 50 feet high, and there was a waiter stationed at least every 10 steps to cater to your every need. Duncan escorted you straight to the bar, claiming that you both needed at least one drink before doing anything or speaking to anyone.

     He was nervous like you, and you could tell, but of course, he had different reasons. It was clear by the way he acted in your apartment that he cared a great deal what his mother thought of him, and impressing her was on the top of his list. Maybe she’d have his ass for spending so much money on a young girl such as yourself, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it as to how that could be. You’d settled on the idea that perhaps he just had a close relationship with his mother, and that he’d do anything to stay in her good graces.

     As you nursed the cocktail Duncan had ordered for you (Which was fucking incredible by way. Why was he so good at everything?), your eyes wandered around the spacious room. There had to have been at least 200 people in the room, and more than a handful of them were familiar faces. You’d read about them, learned about them in class. They were infamous lobbyists, members of Congress, even a member of the Presidental Cabinet you’d managed to pick out amongst the crowd. This was his circle, the big dogs he ran with. You began to feel extremely overwhelmed and claustrophobic, the energy of the room becoming overbearing. How could you ever be with Duncan when this is what he did for a living?

     Just as you were about to excuse yourself to the bathroom for a proper panic session, Duncan’s grip on your arm tightened exponentially. Turning to him to see what was wrong, you noticed a small-framed, brunette woman making her way towards you with an ear-to-ear grin plastered on her face.

     “Well, well, well. Look who decided to finally show up!” The woman took both sides of Duncan’s face in her hands and pressed short, brief kisses on each of his cheeks. You weren’t sure who she was, but you had the inkling this was the woman of the hour. The one you’d been waiting to meet. Although she didn’t resemble Duncan in the slightest, the way Duncan’s jaw was tightened and the short breaths he was taking made you certain that she was an important figure.

     “Hi, mom,” the words slipped past his lips, almost in a mumble.

     “I was beginning to think I’d never find you in this place! You know I really like this venue, I think we should keep it in-“ by this time she was rambling about things beyond your grasp of knowledge. Something about the app you’d heard Duncan mention plenty of times before but could never wrap your head around, something about crowd-funding and one specific congressman you’d heard about from a tax-evasion scandal on tv. It sent you further into your spiral of anxiety. It must have been pretty obvious, because Duncan then unthreaded his arm from yours and moved it to rest on your hip, pulling you closer towards him to steady your shaking. He ran his hand up and down your side against the embellished fabric, it was calming to you but it was more for himself at that moment. He was nodding at every word that left his mother’s mouth, even though he could barely focus on her words himself.

     “-anyways. Enough of all of that. Were you going to introduce me or were you just gonna let her stand there all night with her hip glued to yours?”

     Your stomach dropped as you peered up at the woman. She was looking you up and down, taking in your form. You checked yourself one more time, making sure you hadn’t spilled something on your elaborate gown or had lipstick in your teeth. This was it. Time to put on a show.

     “Mom, this is Y/N.” Duncan’s features softened slightly as the mention of your name, a smile ghosting over his lips. He continued to run his hands up and down your side as he introduced you, a crutch for both you and him.

     “It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Y/N. I hope you’re finding this evening to be worth your while. We put a lot of work into this event, so I hope everyone has a good time.” She extended her hand to you, and you reciprocated, giving her a firm shake.

     “This place is incredible, Ms. Shepherd. Thank you so much for inviting me,” you stated in the most uppity voice you could manage. A beauty pageant smile adorned your face, sure to fool anyone.

     “Oh please, call me Annette!” She placed her hand over heart in exclamation.

     “Well, it’s great to finally meet you, Annette.” Duncan watched the two of you interact intently, ready to interject at the split second something could go wrong.

     “Duncan’s not told me much about you. What you do? Where are you from? Tell me all about yourself! You’ve got to be some kind of special if Duncan’s spending more money on you than he is on himself.”

     She wasn’t nearly as intimidating as you’d imagined. Sure, you were nervous as hell that she’d ask you a personal question about Duncan you didn’t know the answer to, and you were nervous about the decision you’d have to make by the end of the night (to confront him about your feelings or walk away from it all), but there was nothing about this woman that was particularly menacing.

     You cut your eyes to Duncan before parting your lips to speak. He gave your side a quick squeeze, letting you know you were going to be fine.

     “I, umm...I’m a student at Georgetown. I grew up kinda far away from here actually. I don’t have any family here or anything-“

     “That’s actually how we met, isn’t it, Y/N? At Georgetown? That symposium about higher education and research?” The cock of his eyebrow pleading for you to catch the hint.

     “Yeah, it was,” you shot him another glance and a toothy smile, slowly becoming more comfortable in Annette’s presence thanks to Duncan.

     “Aren’t you two just the cutest!?” Annette professed. “If I remember correctly, that symposium was forever ago. How come I’m only just now finding out about you?”

     Both you and Duncan swallowed the lump in your throat. You racked your brain for an excuse, anything to get her off this line of questioning. Thank god for Duncan’s smooth tongue, because you were at a loss for words.

     “We’ve just been taking it slow. Didn’t want to rush anything. We’re both pretty busy so we just haven’t really had the time to take any extra steps.” He spoke so calmly as if he’d been practicing how he would answer this exact question. He was her son, after all, surely he was aware of the kinds of things she’d be asking about.

     “Well, I hope you can make it out to another event soon. I think there’s a gala in the works for next month. Or maybe you can convince Duncan to come back to his mother’s house and we can have a proper get-together over a nice dinner. He never comes to see me outside of work anymore. I’m sure you’re busy with school, but I’d love to see more of you,” Annette gave an earnest smile to the two of you.

     “Of course, I’d love that,” you flashed your pearly whites at Annette and looked up one more time at Duncan. His face had completely softened when looking into your eyes. You caught a flicker of a spark behind his ocean blue’s, unsure of what it meant.

     “If you guys don’t mind, I actually just spotted one of the potential top donors for tonight. I’m gonna squeeze on by and say hello before he gets too drunk and has to be escorted out,” Annette tensed up in amusement and disappeared in the masses.

     Duncan exhaled audibly as soon as she went out of his line of vision. He turned to face you, now resting both hands at your hips.

     “Thank you. So much.”

     “No problem. It wasn’t that bad. She’s not nearly as terrifying as you made her out to be,” you said with a few chuckled in between sentences. You really didn’t know why Duncan made her out to be this big, bad, scary monster. She behaved like any other mother would in her situation. She hardly batted an eyelash when you told her you were still in school, and didn’t ask anything that was particularly worrisome. There was nothing out of the ordinary of her in your eyes. As far as you were concerned, she seemed pretty satisfied.  

     “Yeah, well, maybe if she raised you you’d know how hard it is to make her happy. She was either lying her ass off just then, or she was actually impressed. I genuinely don’t think she was lying, didn’t see any of her tell-tale signs, but then again she never fails to surprise me,” a blush covered Duncan’s cheeks and he scratched the back of his neck as he spoke.

     You quietly nodded back at him, unsure of how to respond.

     “Anyways, how about we actually enjoy ourselves now that my mother is under control? I can show you around if you’d like.”

     “Sounds like a wonderful idea.”

-

     How you’d ended up outdoors, propped against the lip of an Olympic-sized, cascading water fountain was beyond you. To your chagrin, Duncan excused himself to talk to one of his business partners, claiming he’d only be a second. Seconds turned to minutes, and by now it must have been about 15 since he’d left your side. You took a couple turns down a never-ending hallway and somehow managed to find the doors leading to the garden. There were topiaries galore, and greenery covering nearly every square inch of the back yard. It was peaceful compared to the medley of booming voices indoors. 

     You took some time to reflect on the night, weighing out the pros and cons of what you were going to do. You hadn’t forgotten the way Duncan had been looking at you all night, it almost resembled the way you look at him. His eyes flutter like he was looking at something precious. The way he always kept one hand on you at all times was not unlost on you either. You wanted to believe it was genuine, but you had convinced yourself it was all part of his act. To sell this fake relationship to his mother and to everyone else in the room. 

     On the other hand, you were actually having a fun night. Duncan had led you throughout the country club, showing you the various rooms whilst talking shit about almost everyone in attendance. When you went back for more drinks, you caught Annette’s eye again. She gave you a cheerful wave and tilted her glass of wine towards you. You’d even introduced yourself to your favorite journalist, gushing over her latest work. 

     Your pondering was cut short when you heard the rustling of bushes not far from where you were resting. You were about to have company or you were about to be brutally murdered by some creep that had been hiding out. 

     When your vision cleared, you realized it was a man. He looked vaguely familiar from far away, maybe he was another famous public figure that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He was dressed in a tuxedo, and his swagger was way too arrogant for your taste. Whoever he was, he was coming your way. You weren’t prepared for what was about to happen next.

     “Y/N? Is that you?” 

     His voice immediately sent shivers down your spine. You knew exactly who this man was. The two of you had a history, and not a good one. A few months before you met Duncan at the hotel bar, you’d had a little rendezvous with him. A couple times actually. Like Duncan, he had coaxed you back to the hotel more than once. You abruptly cut it off after finding out about his backwards, conservative rhetoric. You discovered via the internet that he was everything you despised, and you couldn’t even stand to look him in the eyes. He was a higher up for some media company that had tried to win you over multiple times by bragging about how much money he had. You never accepted a dime apart from the drinks he’d let you run up on his tab. He was repulsive, which you had told him the night you broke it off. It ended in him calling you a gold-digging whore that cared about no one but herself. Definitely not a ladies man to say the least. 

     You weren’t sure how to react, so you stayed put, straightening out the bottom of your gown that had been folded under your legs. Why the fuck was he even here? Of all of the people you could have run into, of course, it had to be him. 

     “Should have known you would have found your way into one of these. Tons of rich guys you can fuck around with and use for your own benefit,” he scoffed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat. He smelled like bourbon, and you could see the drunken blush that covered his entire face even from the faint glow of the water fountain lights.

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You kept your eyes glued to your heels, praying for him to walk away or for someone to come to your rescue.

     “Oh come on, Y/N. We both know that’s not true.”

     “You’re just mad that I refused to blow you after I found out your company is one of the top donors to the NRA,” you fired back. “Plus, it’s not like I was missing out on anything special when I called it off.”

     His jaw clenched, clearly infuriated. You realized maybe it wasn’t the best idea to get into it with a grown man that was at least a head taller than you outside, in the dark, where no one could see or hear. When he took another step towards you, you flinched.

     “Listen here, you fucking slut-”

     “Y/N?!”

     You had never been more thankful to hear Duncan’s voice in your entire life. He all but broke out into a sprint trying to reach you. Mumbling a quick, “Thank god,” to yourself, Duncan finally caught up to you.

     “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I was starting to think you ditched me or something,” Duncan said with a hearty chuckle.

     “No fucking way. You’re here with Shepherd?!” the man beside you ragged. Duncan hadn’t paid any attention to him until just then. 

     “Do you two know each other, Y/N?” Duncan looked at you both with raised eyebrows and his lips turned down in disgust.

     “Umm...we-” you started, scrambling to find the right words.

     “We do. Quite well, actually,” said the foul man cut you off. “You better watch your back around her, Dunc. She’s trouble. Only cares about herself. She’s nothing but a gold-digging whore that’ll leave you high and dry after she gets what she needs. I’ve seen her do it, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll do it again.” 

     He jabbed his finger at you aggressively as he spoke, like he intended to shove you back. Before he got any closer, Duncan was immediately in-between the two of you. Duncan’s nostrils flared and his chest was poking out, mere seconds from snapping. 

     "Duncan, can we please just go,” you whispered from behind him.

     Duncan looked over his shoulder at you, giving you a brief head nod. 

     “You should probably get the fuck out of here,” Duncan spat at the man. “Unless you want your face plastered on the cover of every fucking newspaper in D.C., I suggest you never show your face to me ever again. The press loves a juicy story, and I’d be glad to give them one that’ll burn your company to the fucking ground.”

     He gave Duncan one last snarl before stomping off in defeat like a dog with its tail between its legs. When he was gone, Duncan gripped you by the elbow and led you out of the backyard, going around the side of the building instead of through the inside. He was quiet the whole time, and you were scared to know why.

-

     The car ride was silent, for the most part. Duncan revealed he went to the same university as the man from earlier. They were rivals, always going for each other’s throats whenever it was possible. Aside from that, not much else was said. You could tell Duncan was bothered by what happened, but you didn’t know if it was directed at you or the man. He kept rubbing his hands up his cheeks and jaw and had his body turned away from you, leaning on the window. 

     You had to face the music. After everything that just happened, was tonight the best time to confess your feelings? Were you even certain about what you wanted anymore? Sure, Duncan was great, but could you keep up with his lifestyle? The confrontation between you and the media mogul caused you enough anxiety to last a lifetime, and you certainly never wanted to have to do that shit ever again. 

     You’d told yourself the same thing one million times before. He’s a grown man, it would logistically never work out. Especially after this. 

     “Duncan,” you started, ready to shatter your hopes and dreams.

     He turned in your direction, the same, exhausted look on his face.

     “I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

     “What do you mean?” he asked, his facial expression quickly changing to one of confusion.

     “This. Us. All of it. I don’t want to do it anymore,” each word out of your mouth wedged the blade deeper and deeper into your chest.

     Duncan just stared at you, his face unreadable. His chest began to move more rapidly, but he stayed quiet. The silence lasted what felt like an eternity, damn near making you want to jump out of the moving limo.

     “Say something, Duncan. Please,” you pleaded.

     “Guess he was right, huh?” Duncan’s voice was low, like he was trying to steady himself without cracking.

     “What?”

     “That guy. When he said you take what you want and then you leave. You’re doing it right now. Aren’t you? You got what you wanted. The money, the clothes, the trips. You got caught, and now you’re running.”

     You couldn’t do anything but stare at Duncan with your mouth agape. He was really accusing you of being a gold-digger. If he only knew you stopped caring about the money months ago.

     “Are you fucking serious? You don’t actually believe what that piece of shit said, do you? You said it yourself, he’s a narcissistic asshole. He was fucking lying.” You argued, highly offended that Duncan would even say such a thing.

     “Honestly, I don’t know anymore. I can never figure you out. One minute it’s like you couldn’t care less about me, the next you look at me like you want something way more than a fuck. I’m not sure I can handle any more either.”

     There it was. The twist of the knife. It was ironic, really. Under any other circumstances, you might have thought Duncan was confessing his feelings for you. What he had just said was a mirror image of your inner thoughts, how you’ve been feeling about him for months. But the way he said it was so condescending, so hurtful, that you knew that wasn’t the case. He wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

     A stray tear managed to slide down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away with the flick of your finger.

     “Okay then,” you sighed, truly devastated that the man you had grown to care about so deeply thought so poorly of you. “Anything else you wanna add? Any more bullshit you wanna spew before you never hear from me again?”

     Duncan could barely hold eye contact with you. He was just as crushed as you were, only you didn’t know it. He kept his head tilted down, opting for silence.

     “Stop the car, please!” you called to the driver. 

     “Y/N, what are you doing?” Duncan rolled his eyes at you.

     “Going home. I don’t want to be in the car with you anymore.”

     The limo’s brakes screeched as the driver veered off to the sidewalk of the busy street. You gathered the bottom of your heavy gown in your hands and shoved your body out of the vehicle.

     “Y/N, stop being stupid. It’s late, it’s not safe. Let me drop you off, please,” Duncan called from the rolled-down window of the limo.

     “I’ll figure it out, Duncan. I’m not your responsibility anymore” you fired back. “You don’t have to ‘take care’ of me. I was fine before you, and I’ll be fine after you.”

     Your heels clanked against the uneven pavement as you walked away from Duncan and all of the baggage that came with him. In the heat of the moment, you were too fired up to not rub it in his face one last time how wrong he was. You turned back to see the limo still parked on the sidewalk, Duncan watching you. Perfect. Trudging back over to the car, you gave Duncan one last piece of your mind.

     “And by the way, asshole, I never did ANY of this for the money.”

     Adrenaline coursed through your veins, making you too wired to wait for Duncan’s reaction. You barged off into the dark of the city, this horrible, humiliating night being the only way you would remember Duncan for a long time.

-

     Months had passed since you had removed Duncan from your life. There wasn’t much left of your time together, your roommate insisted the two of you burn most of the shit he had bought you, lingerie included. 

     You did keep some things, however. Without Duncan’s money, you were back to being strapped for cash and trying your hardest to hit overtime at the coffee shop. You couldn’t afford to go out and buy a new laptop or replace the coffee maker, so he still popped into your mind from time to time. 

     School was going great, to your surprise. You were on track to graduate in just a handful of weeks, had good grades, and a positive outlook on your future. You even got accepted to conduct research with the head of your department in grad school next semester, which is how you’d once again ended up at that damned hotel for another university sanctioned gala in honor of their top students.

     You clung to the wall with your eyes peeled for Duncan. You weren’t going to let him sneak up on you like he had done all of those months before. You’d triple checked the pamphlet for tonight’s event, The Shepherd Freedom Foundation was the featured guest speaker for tonight, so you knew either him or Annette would be making an appearance. The particular corner you had set up base in gave you the perfect view of the entire ballroom, so you were sure to catch Duncan the second he entered the room.

-

     It wasn’t Duncan, nor was it Annette that took the stage. It was some man you’d never seen or heard Duncan ever talk about, so you were relieved, to say the least. Settling on the idea that Duncan had ditched tonight, you could finally let out the breath you’d been holding in ever since you waltzed through the revolving doors of the lobby.

     The gala had slowed, guests clearing out, music dying down. You found it best to leave, but not before heading to the bathroom one last time. The restrooms in the train station were filthy, and you wouldn’t be caught dead using one of them. 

     On your way out, you bumped chests with someone. Hard. The force sent both of you flying back at least a foot or two.

     “Holy shit. I am SO sorry,” you called out, still not being able to see properly.

     “It’s fine. I should have been watching where I was goi-”

     You tilted your head up, wondering why the stranger had stopped talking so suddenly.

     “Duncan,” you puffed. Of fucking course. Just as you thought you’d made it out unscathed.

     “Y/N.” Duncan looked like he had seen a ghost. “How have you been?”

     “Why do you care? I thought you couldn’t ‘handle me’ anymore. Isn’t that what you said?” you smarted off.

     “Please don’t be like this,” Duncan started, already tired of your attitude. “If you have a minute, I’d love to talk to you about that night. There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

     “Duncan, I really don’t have a minute. Save it, honestly. I got your message the first time. No need to rub it in again.”

     “That’s not it, Y/N. I want to apologize. I was a dick. For no reason. Come up to my room and give me 20 minutes to explain myself. That’s all I’m asking for.”

    You were ready to thwart him off again, hurl another insult at him. But the look on his face, the sincerity, made you hesitate. “It really isn’t worth it,” you thought to yourself, but seeing Duncan in the flesh opened the floodgates, your heart swelling full of emotion once more. Even if nothing came of what Duncan had to say, knowing you let him speak his mind made you think there could finally be some kind of clarity.

-

     An overwhelming feeling of deja-vu consumed you. You felt like you’d been in this exact position, better yet, you knew you had been in this exact position before. Leaning against the sturdy dresser of the hotel room while Duncan sat in the armchair in the corner of the room by the window. Only the last time, it was under completely different circumstances.

     “You wanted to apologize, right? I’m listening,” you didn’t have long until the trains stopped running, so 20 minutes was really all you had. 

     “Y/N...What I said to you that night. Was shitty. Uncalled for. I shouldn’t have let what that guy said get to me, but I did. You’re right, he is a narcissistic asshole. I know you would never do something like that. He was just jealous. Always has been ever since I can remember.”

     “No shit, Duncan. If you would have let me talk that night, I would have told you the truth. He never bought me anything besides drinks. That’s it. I called it off because he’s as disgusting as you said he is. I’ve never gone as far with anyone as I have with you.”

     “I know,” Duncan whispered. His nerves were building, you could sense it from the slight changes in his composure that you once picked up on all that time ago.

     “Then why did you do it?” you grilled at him.

     Duncan was quiet again, staring at his feet.

     “Duncan? Hello??” 

     He finally looked up at you, his eyes glassy and lashes fluttering to ward off tears.

     “Did you mean it when you said you never did this for the money?”

     Duncan got up from his seat and made his way over to you, your heart rate skyrocketing. You guessed now was as good as it was going to get if you were going to finally tell him how you’d felt about him for the back half of the time you were together.

     “Yeah, I did. At first, I didn’t mind it. The lingerie was nice, but I stopped caring about everything about halfway through. Paris is what kinda did me in. Every call, every trip. I just showed up for you. You could’ve cut me off from everythingand I still would have been at your door in a heartbeat. I never said anything, because I was never sure how you would react. I was more comfortable putting on a front than potentially ruining what we had. But I don’t really know why I’m telling you all of this. It’s not like it matters anymo-”

     You were cut off by Duncan smashing his lips against yours. Immediately, his scent, his taste, the feeling of his hands on the sides of your neck, it was completely overbearing. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed kissing him until now. The faint taste of liquor always on the back of his tongue, the way he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth in a way that was rough, but just the way you liked it. When he drew back, you were breathless, your lips tingling from the stimulation.

     Duncan rested his forehead against yours, hands still holding on to either side of your face.

     “Y/N I think I’m in love with you.”

     Spots clouded your vision. This whole time, you’d torn yourself up over the idea that Duncan could never care about you in the way you felt for him. You were sure of it. You’d said it over and over, at least a hundred times.

     “Duncan-”

    “I’m serious. I never realized it until you were gone. I was raised on the premise that money solves all problems. That money gets you what you want. I’m not good at communicating how I feel. I was taught to manipulate and to lie from the time I could speak full sentences. I thought that if I kept buying you shit, you’d stay. That any form of intimacy was good enough, even if it meant nothing to you. But it meant something to me. It always did. I just never thought that I’d end up caring about you this much.”

     You weren’t aware of the tears littering your cheeks until Duncan swiped them away with his thumbs. There you both stood, chests shaky, trembling in each other’s arms. Everything was on the table.

     “I need you to stop talking and kiss me again,” you stated matter-of-factly.

     Duncan gave you the toothiest grin you had ever seen and pressed his lips to yours again, only gentler. The muscles of his mouth expertly worked against yours. You savored the feeling you’d deprived yourself of for so long. 

     Caught in another wave of familiarity, you walked him back to the bed. He caught on, letting you shrug off his coat before placing himself right at the edge. You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his waist, never once breaking the kiss. Duncan held you in place with his large hands, sighing at the sensation of being able to hold you once again. He really thought he had lost you for good.

     “Are you sure you want this?” he asked. He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to fuck you again if you were going to turn your back on him the second you finished.

     You nodded, looking deep into the crystal blue skies of his eyes.

     “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life.”

     Duncan silently chuckled into your open mouth, pulling you in for another kiss.

     “Good. Now take off your clothes and lie down.”

     His demand ignited the fire in your belly, sending the already pooling wetness in your core over the edge and into the fabric your panties. You did as you were told, torn between wanting to tease him by taking your time and all but ripping your blouse off of your chest to get straight to business. Duncan licked his lips as you undressed, never once taking his eyes off of you. Once you dropped your panties on top of the rest of your discarded clothes, you made your way to the king-sized bed. The same exact one you’d spent many sleepless hours in for several consecutive months.

     “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” Duncan said, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, parting them to reveal your glistening center. Duncan groaned at the sight, closing his eyes in satisfaction. He slowly ran his fingers through you folds, spreading your slick around, making you jolt on contact.

     “No teasing. I need you inside of me,” you panted.

     Duncan clicked his tongue at your remark. “I need to show you just how sorry I am. Let me prove it to you.”

      With that, he dove into your heat, lips immediately attaching to your clit. He started with slow, gentle sucking motions, pulling back every now and then to place delicate kisses on your most sensitive area. The tugging on your now swollen clit combined with Duncan’s velvet tongue had you whimpering within minutes. Maybe it was because you’d been touch-deprived ever since you ditched Duncan, or maybe he was really just that good. You truly missed this. No one compared to the way Duncan could make you feel. He was acutely aware of every twitch, every reaction you had to his touches. He decided to push you further by dipping his tongue into your entrance to fully taste you. Duncan moaned into your cunt, the taste of you being something he swore he could never get enough of.

     “God I forgot how fucking good you taste, baby girl.”

     You mewled underneath him, his words sending another bout of arousal through your body. He let a warm string of saliva fall from his lips, watching it drip down your already drenched folds before diving back down to drink from you once again. You felt your slick and Duncan’s spit running down your core, surely forming a wet spot on the duvet. Instinctively, you reached one arm down to pull Duncan closer by his hair, pleading for him to work his tongue faster and harder against you. 

     He took the hint, moving on to rutting in and out of your pussy with his mouth and gliding his tongue through your folds with more vigor than before. You were grinding against him, trying to gain any kind of friction there was to offer. Duncan removed one hand from of the inside of your thigh and trailed it down to where his mouth was, leaving goosebumps along your legs. Using his index finger, he torturously worked you open while his lips continued nibbling at your clit. He was lost in his own world, eyes closed, nose pressed harshly against your hood. It gave you some relief, but it still wasn’t enough. You wanted to let go so badly, to let pleasure overpower you. But Duncan’s cock was what you really wanted more than anything.

     It took everything in you to push Duncan’s head away from you. Using your elbows, you sat yourself up on the bed and reached for the buttons on Duncan’s shirt. He happily obliged, working at removing his belt and pants. When he peeled his tight boxers off of his thighs, you were greeted by his rock hard cock bobbing in the cool air of the hotel room. Your mouth watered at the sight, so many thoughts racing through your mind of what you wanted to do to him.

     He hungrily climbed on top of you and began kissing up and down your neck and into the dips of your collarbones. You never thought you’d feel this way again, consumed by Duncan. His hair tickled your chin, causing you to squirm and giggle beneath him. He pulled his lips from your neck with a smacking noise and looked up to see what you were laughing at.

     “What?” he asked, lips red and puffy, slick with spit.

     “Your hair. It tickles.”

     He looked at you once again with bewilderment. How he had managed to find you both back then and now again tonight was beyond his comprehension. He could look at you smiling like that for the rest of his life, he thinks to himself.

     Duncan returned the smile before bringing your lips together once again. You used his moment of weakness to take control, wrapping your legs around his torso and shoving Duncan sideways with your arms so that you were now on top of him, your bare core pressed against his stomach. Normally, he’d punish you for even thinking about doing such a thing. But this time, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was willing to do anything to you and for you, even if it meant letting you take the reigns.

     You slid back, leaving a trail of your wetness all the way down to Duncan’s waist. Using the muscles in your thighs, you carefully lifted yourself away from him so you could position his aching cock beneath you. He hissed at the stimulation of only your fingers, just as touch-starved as you. 

     First running his tip through your slickened folds for lubrication, you then hovered his cock directly above your entrance, bracing yourself for the stretch. As you sunk down, your eyes grew wider and wider, your face contorting into a look of pain and pleasure. 

     “You okay?” Duncan asked when you were fully seated on his cock, his brows furrowed, with small beads of sweat collecting just above them.

     “Mhmm,” you said, or moaned rather. “I forgot how big you are.”

     Duncan lay beneath you, biting his bottom lip so hard he might have drawn blood, but was too preoccupied to notice. It was taking every bit of the willpower had left not to begin bucking his hips into yours.

     He reached forward to grab both of your hands, lacing your fingers with his. He brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing reassuring kisses to each digit. 

     Once you were as adjusted to Duncan’s cock as you’d ever be and the slight pain from the foreign stretch subsided, you began to swivel your hips along his stomach, just barely grinding against him. Duncan kept his eyes on you, squeezing ever so slightly on your palms. The tiny whines leaving your chest with every rotation was music to his ears, but it was egging him on more than he could handle.

     “As good as you feel right now, princess, I’m gonna need you to move a little faster before this takes a turn for the worse and we’re both unhappy.”

     You snickered at Duncan, leaning down to lay your chest flat against his, his throbbing cock still piercing you. You kissed up his jaw, savoring the coarseness of his scruff against your lips. His hands unraveled from yours and went immediately to your ass, spreading you further apart and kneading the skin with his fingers. 

     “Tell me how much you missed me,” you started, in between nipping and sucking at the skin behind his ear with your teeth. “Tell me how much you missed this, daddy.”

     Duncan swallowed hard. He hadn’t heard you say his name like that in what felt like a lifetime. 

     “I missed you,” he gulped, “So fucking much. I missed your tight little pussy. How good it feels when you cum all over daddy’s cock. I wanna fill you up so bad.” 

     You spasmed on top of him, another wave of arousal gushing from you. With a throaty groan, you lifted yourself off Duncan’s cock and quickly slammed back down. Duncan’s breath hitched in the back of his throat, finally scratching that itch he’d had for months.

     You sat up slightly, placing the palms of your hands on Duncan’s pecks. Your pace was as quick as you could manage, his cock sliding in and out of your drenched cunt effortlessly. You fit together like a puzzle piece you thought. Made for each other, not belonging with anyone else. The gushing sounds of wet skin slapping together and exhausted panting encompassed the room. The initial burn had long gone and pure, carnal pleasure had taken over you as you impaled your body on Duncan’s cock.

     “God, Y/N. Are you close? I don’t think I can hold it much longer,” he confessed. 

     “Almost. Just hang on for a little while longer. I wanna cum with you.”

     You were bouncing on top of him now, your breasts bobbing along to your movements. Duncan shifted his position slightly, moving both of you a few feet back so he could rest his back against the headboard. He took you by the small of your back and pulled you as close as humanly possible, wanting to feel every inch of your skin against his.

     He eagerly placed on hand on the back of your neck, moving the other up to the spot between your shoulder blades to keep you close as you milked his cock. He started at your lips, working his tongue against yours in starving passion. Moving down to the hollow of your throat, he sucked harsh, moon shaped marks against your skin. You were chanting his name over and over, thrust after thrust like a prayer, losing yourself in Duncan’s touch.

     You weren’t sure if you could do it. Every muscle in your body ached from riding him, sweat coating every square inch of your skin. Duncan noted your falter and began moving your hips for you, thrusting you up and down his cock with all of the strength he had left. He was barely holding on himself.

     “Y/N I’m gonna-”

     He came suddenly with a grunt. His eyelashes fluttered and his mouth was parted slightly. You felt him spill inside of you, his hot seed coating your contracting walls. Duncan milked you for all that you were worth, his cum leaking onto his shaft, spurring on your own release in the process. The heat once pooling in the pit of your stomach spreading throughout your entire body. Your hips sputtered, unable to keep going through your orgasm, you buried your head in the crook of his neck.

     For a solid minute, neither of you said anything. You just laid there, still inside of him, catching your breath, your cheek resting on his shoulder. You had no idea what was going to happen next. You’d both just confessed your feelings, and you both felt the same way, but you kept asking yourself the same question. Would it ever work?

     “Duncan?” You spoke up, still not moving your head from the comfort of his shoulder.

     “Yeah?”

     “Do you think we could ever be together?” you were quieter this time, suddenly feeling as vulnerable as the night he approached you with the idea of the “arrangement” that briefly turned both of your lives upside down.

     “Is that not what we’re doing right now?” he asked.

     “You know what I mean.”

     ���I’m willing to give it a shot. We’ve made it this far. Only a smaaaall mishap.”

     “Yeah, a small mishap,” you laughed, nuzzling further into Duncan’s neck.

     “Tell you what. Why don’t you stay here, and we can talk about it in the morning. I’m actually extremely fucking exhausted.”

     “Deal,” you replied.

     Duncan slid himself out of you, a chill taking over you at the suddenly emptiness. He turned you on your side, wrapping his long arms around your waist as he pulled the sheet up to your chest. You faced him this time, not worried about what he was thinking or what he would say next.

     He kissed the top of your forehead while running his fingers through the knots in your hair. You leaned into his touch before exhaustion took over and you both fell asleep. You dreamed of each other again, just like in Paris, only this time about the future each of you would have together.

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@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @venusxxlangdon   @ccodyfern @michaellangdong @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul @wroteclassicaly @omg-hellgirl @aveiangdon @belusima  @readsalot73 @americanhorrorstudies @langdonsdemon @ticklish-leafy-plant @michaelfuckinglangdon @fpsjacket @mother-tequila 

#duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd smut #Duncan Shepherd #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon #my writing #mine

[urfavmurtad]

Hi there! I really like your blog, I'm from a religious family myself and struggling with a lot of similar things. I'm Jewish though, from an Orthodox family, not Muslim. I have always wanted to ask someone this, but I never wanted to offend them, so let me ask you (I hope you will not be offended!), why does it seem like there is so much hatred of Jews in many Muslim countries? It is just because of Israel? Because to me it seems like hatred *of Jews*, not just *of Israel*.

Hello anon, I am glad to hear it. I’ve always lowkey wanted Jewish followers to talk to me but idk how to say that without it being weird??

Antisemitism…. yeah it’s a real thing tbh. And yes it targets Jews, not just Israel. The Jew-hating screeds are all very clearly against the “yahud” (Jews). At least in Arab countries. Though I just looked it up and it seems fairly widespread in Muslim countries in general (this is from here).

I mean… even compared to other non-Muslim groups, there is obviously a big problem here, except in Pakistan where people admirably hate everyone equally.

Israel does have something/a lot to do with it, there’s no doubt about that. Not to justify any antisemitism, but there is a clear association between Israel and Jews, and a clear association between Israel and Muslim oppression. Most of these same people would howl if anyone dared blame their religious group for the actions of one government, of course…. but the roots of it go deeper than that, and are older than most of us want to acknowledge. We pretend it’s not true, but antisemitism did not magically spring up in the 20th century.

The idea that Jews were treated well throughout all of Muslim history is a big lie that we’re indoctrinated into believing. Arab kids everywhere, whether they’re religious or not, are genuinely taught that Jews and other religious minorities were happy under Arab rule, and generally “Muslim rule” in the MENA region, until The Zionists came around. We’re taught from kindergarten that there was no anti-Semitism in Muslim countries before this, that the concept was Western. It is something said so frequently and with such conviction that few people ever think about it.

This is a lie, of course. There were massacres, institutionalized oppression and discrimination, forced conversions, and genocides all throughout MENA history. As in Europe, some eras and places were better than others. Often the situation deteriorated rapidly. The Jews were sometimes targeted for religious reasons, sometimes because they were perceived to be too wealthy or corrupt, sometimes because they were seen as too friendly to outsiders or traitorous. Even in “good” times, daily discrimination and often even humiliation persisted; the “dhimmi laws” were often petty and cruel, from wearing distinctive clothing to having court testimony automatically count less due to your religion. It was not an era of tolerant coexistence, though admittedly Jewish and Christian minorities often traded places as the bottom of the religious ladder (as in under the Ottomans). It’s just that the history is virtually unknown by Arabs themselves. I had no idea about any of this until I was maybe 15, 16 and got curious and looked it up. But many never even think to question it.

When times got really bad, the reasons were usually the same as the reasons for anti-Semitic pogroms in Europe. The Jews were perceived as too wealthy or influential, like in al-Andalus in a lynch mob in 1066 or a near-total extermination in Fez in 1465. They were blamed for war struggles, like a genocide in Yemen in the 17th century. They were caught up in periods of religious vigor like a series of forced conversionsin 19th century Sudan and 12th century Cordoba. Of course, the mass exiles and depopulations of Arab countries in the 20th century after Israel was declared a state was its own unique sort of discrimination. And now most Israeli Jews are descended from the people who were kicked out of those countries… because of Israel. Arabs creating their own damn problems as per usual smh.

Anyway, to relate this back to the topic at hand, the question seems to be more about Islam than Arabs as a group. So the question is, is there antisemitism within the religious texts of Islam that might help give rise to these feelings of hating Jews among Muslims in general (vs just among Arabs). The answer is yes. The Quran itself is antisemitic. Mohammed really goddamn hated the Jewish tribes around him in his Medina days and it shows. The entire fifth surah is one long Borat rant about The Jews. I mean, he didn’t like any non-Muslims, but the Jews really get the shit end of the stick in the Medina suwar. 5:82 literally says that the Jews and polytheists are ones who treat Muslims the worst whereas the Christians (while still doomed to hell!) are not as bad.

It says (multiple times) not to take Jews or Christians as auliya (allies/helpers/friends), it calls Jews greedy and deceitful, it frequently blames Jews for the misdeeds of past generations like killing “the prophets” (which does not include Jesus, incidentally, the Jews only thought they killed him… actually no one really knows wtf prophets he was talking about but that’s a separate story). Their beliefs are mocked repeatedly, often when Mohammed didn’t even get their beliefs correct. He was particularly obsessed with the notion of Allah’s continued punishment of the Jews for the disbelieving actions of Moses’ followers, saying that they had to keep kosher as a “punishment”. Another tale from Moses’ day was the oft-repeated story of how Allah transformed Sabbath-breaking Jews into apes and pigs, a story that kids who attend Islamic schools will hear like 500 times by the time they graduate, as the Quran relates this punishment to Mohammed’s contemporary Jews who rejected his message.

So… it’s bad, is the point. The ahadith are even worse but I don’t want to overwhelm you lmao, you can just sort of… browse through them at your leisure. I’m sure you’ve at least heard this one before. And yes, much of it is repeated as “the truth” even today. Some very well-meaning people will try to fight against this by saying “context!!!” etc, but Mohammed’s rants were against, simply, the Jews, often in a multi-generational, multi-cultural sense. Not… military-age male fighters and evildoers of the Banu Nadir and Banu Qurayza tribes of the time (both of which were Jewish and met appalling ends; the “Khaybar” dumbass rallying cries you hear sometimes are in reference to a battle against them). So while it’s truly nice that they’re at least trying to stamp out religious-based antisemitism, it’s unclear to me if they have much of a leg to stand on here…

Uh, this is a lot longer than I thought it was gonna be lmao but I hope I answered your question? Please come off anon and talk to me, if you want, bc there’s so much I want to know about a lot of Jewish-related topics and idk where to even begin!

#ask #ex muslim #rant #antisemitism

[minijenn]

Universe Falls Preview 3

So ya’ll gettin lucky with this one I’m giving you an entire damn scene here just so I won’t have to give you a fourth preview (which I may still end up doing anyway idk it depends cause this chapter is going to be very long) but for reals I fucking love all of this and I’m so excited that I figured I”d share it so here you go!

Almost as soon as he had voiced this question, Dipper instantly noticed an abrupt breeze start to pick up, one that quickly turned into a full on, admittedly ominous gale as it whipped through the trees. Somewhat unsettled by this, he pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders as he securely grabbed the laptop and braced himself against the sudden chill, only to realize that the light of the full moon in the skies ahead of him was starting to change as well. Slowly, a long, slitted line began to draw itself over the moon, splitting it cleanly in half as a series of initially transparent, glowing blocks began to gravitate towards it out of seemingly nowhere. Dipper gasped, alarmed by this bewildering phenomenon as he leapt to his feet, taking a nervous step back as he stared towards the moon with wide eyes, only for it to stare right back at him. The bright blocks continued stacking against the moon, forming a distinct triangular shape as the winds picked up to near hurricane levels. And then, as they finally all joined together in a bright, practically blinding flash of light, the world bled of color instantly, turning into a full, frozen greyscale scape as cause of all this strangeness finally made his appearance:

Bill Cipher.

“I THINK I KNOW A GUY!” he proclaimed boldly, his distinctively pitchy voice echoing harshly throughout the colorless woods. In light of this completely unexpected, unprecedented encounter, Dipper was effectively stunned into frozen silence as he stood in the dream demon’s massive triangular shadow. Still, Bill hardly seemed to notice or care as he drew in closer, his manner just as casual as ever as he circled the dumbfounded human before him. “Well, well, well. I gotta admit, you’re awfully persistent, Pine Tree. Hats off to you!” At this, Bill took his top hat off and tipped it, the entire world seeming to abruptly tilt along with it.

Dipper let out a startled gasp as he struggled to maintain his footing on the roof as it slipped sideways, though fortunately it leveled itself once more moments later. As it did, he was quick to regain his composure for the sake of putting on an air of brazen defiance to the crafty dream demon, remembering well how much trouble he had caused during his last appearance. “You again!” he exclaimed crossly, holding the laptop a bit tighter as Bill calmly glided past him. “What do you think you’re doing here?!”

“Oh, just checking in,” Bill shrugged coyly. “Did ya miss me? Admit it, you missed me.”

“Hardly,” Dipper scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You worked with Gideon! You tried to destroy my uncle’s mind! Oh, and not to mention that you constantly terrorized all of us while we were trying to save him, what with you stealing Steven’s gem and shooting a whole straight through my chest. Need I go on?”

“Geez, it was just a job, kid!” the dream demon countered defensively. “No hard feelings! Besides, since then, I’ve been keeping an EYE on you!” At this, Bill instantly shot up to a massive size, his voice ominously deepening and his eye turning pitch black as he peered at Dipper piercingly. “And even if you are a bit rough around the edges, I must say I’m impressed!”

“Y-you are?” Dipper asked, unsure of what to make of that. After all, he really didn’t see anything particularly good about garnishing the interest of a being like Bill Cipher, especially given the countless warnings the journal gave against him.

“Sure am!” Bill agreed brightly. “In fact, you deserve a prize! Here, have a head that’s always screaming!” With a mere snap of the dream demon’s fingers, a disembodied head appeared, one that, sure enough, was crying out in shrill, endless agony as it fell onto the roof. Dipper gasped in fearful disgust as he flinched away from it, only for the head to begin to peel itself away layer by layer, from skin, to muscle, to bone, before it disappeared entirely as Bill simply laughed in sadistic amusement all the while.

“Augh! What’s wrong with you?!” Dipper exclaimed at this, appalled by such a twisted, demented display.

“Ain’t that the question of the millennia!” Bill chuckled carelessly as he floated down to take a seat on the edge of the roof. “But the point is, I like you, kid! And I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been having a hard time with that crusty old laptop there, so how’s about you let me give you a hint, huh? I only ask for a small FAVOR in return.” As the dream demon said this, both his hand and his eye lit up with an unnatural strain of blue fire, his manner still incredibly casual, even despite the immediately harsh rejection his offer received.

“Are you kidding me? I’d never do a favor for you!” Dipper exclaimed adamantly, unable to believe that the dream demon would even have the gall to propose something so outlandish. “Don’t forget who defeated you last time!”

“Right, you ‘defeated’ me,” Bill rolled his eye as he disappeared into the roof, only to come rising up out of it behind Dipper just a second later. “Still, seems to me like you’re passing up a great deal like this pretty quickly, Pine Tree. Kinda ironic when you think about how Water Wings didn’t hesitate to take up Stripes’ deal to save you…”

Dipper was completely caught off guard by this, especially as his picture of him and Lapis came flying out of his pocket to hover over the dream demon’s hand. “Hey! Give that back!” he protested, reaching for the photo only for Bill to teasingly pull it out of his reach.

“Whoa, hold your awkward, pre-pubescent horses for a sec, kid, and think about this,” the demon contested coolly. “Do you really think you’re getting anywhere by making all those shots in the dark about that password? You think you’re not just wasting your time out here while Water Wings has a non-stop, all-out brawl with Stripes at the bottom of that lake just so she can keep you ‘safe’?”

“S-stop,” Dipper muttered, his hands clenched tightly at his sides as he tried to block out what Bill was saying, even if he knew it was all true. But of course, the dream demon simply ignored him and kept going with his sly, almost cruel form of manipulation.

“Wouldn’t it just be so much easier to get just a little help, to get just a tiny bit closer?” Bill kept the photo positioned right above Dipper as he talked, deceptively close but still so far out of his reach, much like the blue Gem herself was at the moment. “Wouldn’t that make whatever small thing I want from you worth it just to bail her out?”

“Stop,” Dipper said a bit firmer this time, sending the dream demon a fierce warning glare as he tried to remind himself that he wasn’t going to take this deal, he wasn’t going to give Bill what he wanted, whatever that was. Still, that didn’t mean his appeal wasn’t starting to become the least bit tantalizing.

“After all,” Bill continued callously, clearly taking pleasure in how uncomfortable his truthful words were making Dipper. “Water Wings sure thought it was worth it to bail you out, didn’t she?”

“Stop!” Dipper finally shouted, unable to take any more of this, lest he actually give in under the pressure. A beat of heavy silence passed as he stared the dream demon down, his heated anger cooling just a bit, even if it was still very much on the surface as he offered a firm, but surprisingly tranquil response. “I don’t need your help.”

“Oh, suuuuure you don’t!” Bill deadpanned, rolling his eye once more. “After all, you already have Shooting Star and Rosebud to help you out with this, so why would you need me? Oh, but wait! They’re busy with that little puppet show, aren’t they? Oh, well, you can always ask those Crystal Chumps for help, right? I’m sure Fuse Box, Half-Baked, and Bird Brain know all there is to know about that laptop, almost is if they didn’t mysteriously lose all their memories on that journal of yours!”

Dipper stilled at this, hating the fact that, once again, the dream demon was right on the mark with such claims. With Steven, Mabel, and even Connie still distracted by the play and the Gems as clueless about who the author could be as they were, he was really the only one who could put the time and effort into this mystery that it truly deserved. And, so far, trying to tackle it completely on his own had gotten him absolutely nowhere at all. Still, to accept help from Bill, of all sources, would definitely be asking for trouble, trouble that, after all of the disasters of the recent invasion and its brutal aftermath, Dipper certainly didn’t need right now. “I said,” he began again, squaring his shoulders as he glared at the demon unrelentingly. “I don’t need your help!”

“Eh, well, then have it your way,” Bill shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by this refusal. “But if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here for you, ready to make a deal!” To punctuate his point, a slot machine appeared on his flat surface, all three wheels stopping right on the pine tree symbol. “You know, now that I’ve brought it up, maybe I’ll go pay your pal Water Wings a visit down at the bottom of the lake and let her know all about how her precious little Pine Tree doesn’t care enough about her to lend her a hand! I bet that would a lot of fun!”

“W-wha—no!” Dipper exclaimed, his calm manner all but gone at the idea of the dream demon tormenting the blue Gem. As if she wasn’t being tormented enough by being fused with Jasper alone. “You leave Lapis alone!”

“Boy, you sure are easy to rile up, Pine Tree.” Bill laughed twistedly, finally letting the picture fall back into Dipper’s hands. “It’s hilarious, almost as funny as you thinking you can guess that password all on your own! Oh, speaking of which, wanna hear my impression of you in about three seconds?” At this, the demon let out a loud, fearful scream, one that Dipper ended up inadvertently echoing only seconds later as he found himself abruptly pulled back into reality. Bill was fortunately finally gone and color had returned to the world as the skies filled in with the breaking of dawn, a calming sight after the still, lifeless void he had just been in.

#YEEEEEEEEEE #IM HYPE #WOO #Let me know what you think of this PLEASE! #i want some feedback! #cause im excited!!! #jen writes #universe falls #sock opera #uf preview

[chromsai]

Sai, I just went and watched Yugioh Everything's video on Yusaku and Aoi having Autism and Depresson, respectively. While he makes some solids points and I agree with them having mental problems, he basically said Vrains is the first yugioh to talk about 'such dark topics.' If your up to it could you bring up some characters in previous ygo series (Arc-V or all your choice) that implied to have mental problems cause Vrains is not the first by a long shot lmao.

Lmao sorry this answer is kinda late since the past few days have been busy for me and ironically enough you sent this right when I just got back from a grad school info session (regarding psych programs ofc) which made me realize I kinda wanna pursue a career more along research in the field of abnormal psychology which is one of my stronger areas of knowledge in psychology already anyway. I just really like it that much.

So yeah I did see this ask like almost right when you sent it but it was late and I had just gotten home after a nice day and YE’s videos haven’t been making me too happy lately so ofc sorry I kinda avoided watching it that night cuz I didn’t wanna ruin my nice day (just in case). But now that I watched it, well as far as I can remember he didn’t outright say that this is the first time a Yugioh’s dealt with these issues before (but I can see how you got that he perhaps implied it).

That all being said, I still have just a, I’d say, general yet above-average knowledge in these subjects (hey I have a degree in Psych, yes, but that doesn’t make me an expert by any means and I’m not afraid to say that, hell I love learning new things about psych all the time) so please keep that in mind (also please keep in mind too that I cannot professionally diagnose anyone, but for the sake of discussion about the psychology in fiction, I can definitely give my thoughts on what would be the most probably diagnosis for certain characters). Besides that though, if YE does actually believe that this is the first time these kinds of issues have ever been dealt with in Yugioh, well wow idk how much he’s been paying attention before this...

(Long read with further examples + explanations from characters in each series under the cut)

Regarding his statements on the Vrains characters and the disorders he mentioned, I’ll give it to him. In fact, I too am pretty sure by now that all of Yusaku’s “quirks” point to Autism, though, and YE didn’t mention this so idk how knowledgeable he is regarding other personality disorders, he also seems to show symptoms of OCPD (obsessive-compulsive); these include being obsessed or preoccupied with making lists and keeping track of small details, over preoccupation with work or meeting goals to the point of neglecting your social life or forming close relations, unwillingness to see ethics or values in someone else’ light, being stubborn, etc. Wouldn’t surprise me if he has both since there’s a high co-morbidity between ASD and OCPD.

In regards to Aoi, again yes I agree. Girl has depression. It’s very obvious (this I can say with confidence as someone who has suffered previously from it [note: I sought help and let’s just say I’m very glad I did]. The Paranoid Personality Disorder... (I’m gonna be honest.... I didn’t pay enough attention to Aoi’s character enough to determine a firmer answer and I don’t really feel like rewatching the ep). According to him, it’s a possible thing. He did mention that she could just be acting that way because her whole entire life she’s been kinda used so she has a general distrust of people, but that’s just the thing. If in fact he’s correct about her symptoms matching up, it doesn’t necessarily matter if she’s acting this way due to her childhood trauma, in fact, that’s even more reason to validate her suffering from PPD (another area I feel more confident about in psych is child/adolescent development and hey guess what, lots of personality disorder symptoms start showing up during childhood or are even a direct cause of childhood trauma).

Speaking of childhood trauma, you wanted to know characters from other series that have mental illnesses/suffer from personality disorders? Well... (*cough cough* as a psychologist, why do you think I enjoyed Arc V so much?)...Here’s a quick list of just a few select characters I can think of:Arc V:-Yuya (remember, the childhood trauma I mentioned): Oh my poor boy suffers from dysthymia. Again, I’m pretty confident here because I can relate (because I suffer from it too ahaha). While we don’t know exactly for how long, it’s been at least three years with it (ugh) since his father’s disappearance and all the bullying. He shows so many signs of it throughout the show (it would be pointless to get screencaps because the signs are literally everywhere): dysthymia (sometimes called “persistent depressive disorder”) is noted by sadness, anger, irritability, mood swings, loss of appetite, insomnia (did you notice in Synchro when we was feeling depressed in his room he didn’t eat at all and stayed up all night despite being noticeably tired), indecisiveness, low self-esteem, among others. I’m sure people might argue against me, trying to say “oh well he’s energetic for the most part and still smiles a lot” well guess what, there’s lots of entertainers, comedians, performers, and just overall really sociable people who do a terrifyingly good job hiding it.I saw someone once mention that they headcanoned Yuya also has Histrionic Personality Disorder and well... he actually does show signs of it but not so much that he actually meets criteria. Even for being an entertainer tho, he shows this more than the others (either Dennis, Yuzu, or even Yusho), but again, can’t be diagnosed with it.Lastly, and this is more of a post-canon thought regarding the prognosis of his mental health... he’s definitely gonna deal with some dissociative symptoms for the rest of his life (or until somehow, some way they find a way to separate him and the other Yuus, and even then still...). There is just no way in hell you can convince me that he’s not gonna experience dissociation on a regular basis with 3 other people living inside him. Same goes for Yuzu. (Side note: RIP my heart.)

-Shun: He suffers from PTSD. Oh man he’s kind of textbook PTSD: irritableness, mistrust, social issolation, flashbacks, hostility, fear, anxiety, paranoia, agitation, hyper-vigilance, etc. (I’d also say Yuto and Kaito suffer this too).

-Reria: Also suffers from PTSD, but since Reira is much younger, coping with childhood PTSD is a lot harder and leads to more frequent panic attacks, flashbacks, intrusive or unwanted thoughts, nightmares, avoidant behavior, etc.

-Yuri: Conduct Disorder, aka the precursor to Antisocial Personality Disorder. He’s 14 so he can’t really be diagnosed as the second. Anyways, what really tipped me off about him having this is his blatant disregard for any remorse towards harming others. He just doesn’t feel it. On the contrary, he straight up says he enjoys it, says he needs it “just like breathing”, he’s an overall really violent kid and starts fights with literally anyone that gets in his way (like... it’s even his catchphrase “You’re in my way!”), has no knows long term close relationships with anyone (reeaaally wish they had given us more of him and Dennis together tho...), and he’s known to deceive, trick, or lie to others with no guilt at all. (He’s also seen as similar to past villains of Yugioh, outright disproving the implication that Vrains is the first Yugioh to deal with personality or mental disorder issues).

-Zarc: Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Again, another textbook example. And yes, similar to Aoi’s possible Paranoid Personality Disorder, this is canonically induced into his personality as a result of the society he lived in praising his violent duel style and eventual lust for power due in part to the same reason. But just because it was induced due to circumstance doesn’t make it any less valid. It’s another form of trauma, just like Aoi’s whole “being used all her life” led her to develop PDD.

And well there’s more examples in Arc V (you can also argue that Shingo also suffers from NPD to some extent, etc.) but I think those are the biggest ones I can think of right now.

And of course, though I’ve seen them all, I know Arc V the best + it’s just the one that’s in my most recent memory so it’s easier to talk about them, but some other quick examples from the series that I can think of:

DM:-Kaiba: Again, Narcissistic Personality Disorder.-Marik: I think he’s a strong candidate for being diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (at least the way his villainous arc portrayed him as).-Bakura: Actually an adult so actual Antisocial Personality Disorder.

GX:-Judai: Depression & Dissociation. Yep.-Ryo Marufuji/Hell Kaiser: Definitely could argue that he displays signs of Sadisitic Personality Disorder, just keep in mind that it is no longer included in the DSM-V so it is not something someone would be typically diagnosed with professionally.-Manjoume: Another Narcissist.

5D’s:-Jack Atlas: Okay so he’s more of an accurate example of Histrionic Personality Disorder, minus the sexual criteria (which, if the Yugioh anime genre/audience allowed, I’m sure would be plausible since he also displays signs of NPD, implying that he might actually want that kind of physical/superficial attention).-Aki: Also like Aoi, displayed symptoms of PPD, though I’d argue she definitely has it and just learns to cope over time after befriending Yusei & co.-Sherry: Shows signs of high functioning ASD (being perfectionist and being obsessed with finding out about her parents murder), but ASD isn’t something I’m too confident talking about yet so maybe don’t quote me on this.-Divine: I’d say you can argue he’s has Antisocial Personality Disorder.

Zexal:-Vector: Another one with.... I mean... he’s not really 13 or 14, he’s actually, what, like 100s of years old? So instead of Conduct Disorder, he actually has Antisocial... technically...-Fuya: OOOOOHHHH You thought I wouldn’t remember a character like him??? (Again, as a psychologist, these are the characters I like the most). He’s memorable to me, despite being a minor character, cuz I’d say he definitely displays signs of having Avoidant Personality Disorder, especially with regards to using his Esper Robin personality to avoid all those intrusive, self-conscious thoughts he doesn’t find pleasant.-Shark/Ryoga/Nasch: Also has PTSD.-IV: He’s borderline Antisocial. Not quite. But almost there.

OOOKAYY Well anyways, those were just a bunch of examples. There’s way more, I’m sure that I missed A TON. But yes it’s as you said, Vrains is definitely NOT the first time in Yugioh history where characters have had to struggle with mental health / personality disorder issues. Far from it.

And wow actually thank you for the ask! This was really fun to think about and I welcome the discussion any time! Anyone, don’t be afraid to let me know if there’s stuff I might have left out or if there’s anything wrong with this or any arguments for or against any of this.

#skittymon #ask #reply #skitty #ygo #psych stuff #and wow i got carried away how is it 4:30am already #i should sleep #thank u day off #*prays fam doesn't wake me up early in the morning like they said they would* #ugh #i'm not tagging all of this so RIP #long post