Whitney Theory Time

Whitney Theory Time

[CW- talks about mental health, child neglect, random character analysis and unnecessary deep diving into little details (lol)]

I went down a little rabbit hole pertaining to Whitney’s oral fixation. I have known that when something is brought attention to constantly during any story, then it’s not a simple coincidence. I feel like (how Sydney said in the library) that Whitney has a lot going on. And it’s probably not good. I feel like their back story will be very angsty and sad.

So as someone who has studied psychology for a while, I found this…and I feel like I hit the nail on the head (for those morbidly curious like me this is Freud’s theory on oral fixation…and yeah don’t judge me for going all Freudian analysis on Whitney/silly)

So chances of our Whit being a neglected child are very high. But from their general appearance in the game (m!whitney wearing a blazer and f!whitney wearing a long school skirt. Both items are on the costlier side in game) I feel like they come from a well off family? the general hate towards the privileged people they hold, points to either them living a life of privilege but they are so miserable they want to escape? (Tbh their whole schtick sometimes gives rich kid doing all kinds of weird stuff trying to get attention from their absentee parents trope)

Or maybe used to be a part of a well off family? I feel like they are not being able to cope with the sudden change in their lifestyle if this is the case. Thus are trying to sell this fearless image of themselves.

And Is it just me or do you find it weird too that although Whitney is sent to detention Leighton almost never does anything to Whitney besides scolding? I feel like they do come from a powerful background. Otherwise why would all these lackeys follow them around?! And they own a phone to top it all off. I know all the other NNPCs have a phone too but amongst the LIs only Whitney (and Avery) owns a phone?!

The lowkey neurotic and manic tendencies they have towards PC also screams of separation anxiety. (Ahem collection of stuff toys?) For example, them needing to control PC at all times. Their love stat going high only when PC willingly chooses to act on their every whimsical/cruel wishes, them wanting to tattoo their name on PCs face of all places, not being able to be more open/ vulnerable with PC because they feel that PC might leave them.

And their dismissal event also shows just how much their image matters to them, and why they crave to be in control. This is yet another trait they share with Avery, when on low dominance, you can see how humiliated they get whenever PC fights back with them. Add insecurity about looks on top and viola, you have some deep childhood issues (I love complex fully fleshed characters so much)

Also the not being sufficiently fed during nursing part (I’m referring to the picture above) makes me think that the Headcanon about their parents being divorced and maybe their mom moving out at a very young age, seems like a possibility. Hence Whitney not being able to withstand emotional cheating seems like a result of that (I’m just spitballing here…)

So yeah. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. I feel good after hyperfixating about a fictional character.

[Bonus Angst Headcanon] I like to imagine, if it indeed turns out that Whitney lives in some mansion with their dad, and their mom left when they were young, why do I get a feeling that their mom left them/ said goodbye to them near the water fountain on a rainy day. Them just staring into the fountain with a solemn mood, feels like there is a definite reason behind it. Or maybe they used to come to the fountain and make wishes with their mom? (Yes I like to torture myself with sad thoughts)

Your door slams open. It’s Bailey

Him after snatching money from my PC…“Alexa play Money by Lisa💅”

Silent Confessions

[CW- themes of self hate, cursing/swearing, it’s sfw but mildly suggestive] Boyfriend Whitney x GN PC

His eyes opened by a fraction, blue orbs adjusting to the street light filtering in through the window in the small, stuffy room. He blinked rapidly, as if only now remembering how he ended up here. Whitney gently shifted in the small creaky bed, the worse for wear sheets covering your half naked body rode down with his movements.

You whined a little, flailing your arms around in an attempt to pull the boy closer, further entangling your limbs, under the sheets.

“Stop moving” you mumbled nosing along the crook of his neck. The sound of his steady pulse against your face gave you a sense of security, and a feeling of familiarity. A feeling that you were growing dangerously attached to, “l’m cold” you managed to whisper. Even half asleep you could practically see, no, feel him roll his eyes.

“You’re getting way too comfortable with me, aren’t you little one… ordering me around now, huh?” he murmured as he shifted in the cramped space, easily scooping you up and placing you atop him, as he pulled the old blanket over both of your forms. Despite his rough tone, his hands were gentle, like always. His chin came to rest on your head, strong arms holding your waist like a lifeline, and you found yourself unconsciously matching your breathing with his, secretly loving the way both of your chests touched when they rose and fell in tandem.

A beat of silence passed. Both of you said nothing, just listened to the sound of your combined breathing dancing in the dark. Whitney rubbed soothing circles on your back, slender fingers inching down to find the words written in black permanent marker near your left hip.

A small frown creased his forehead. His blue eyes caught the words emblazoned on your skin, reflected into the mirror of the dilapidated armoire. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he kept staring at the reflection transfixed.

He saw the way your legs wrapped around his waist, how your head rested on his chest, and those damned words that he himself wrote, sat there on your body, mocking him.It was all too intimate, and suddenly he regretted letting his guard down. Regretted letting you drag him to this dump of a place.

It was somewhere he had sworn not to enter. He had been here with his lackeys before. But he never stayed long. Those fleeting glimpses into your life were enough to sate his curiosity. Of this weird fixation he held about you. He hated that he was almost obsessed about knowing what you did after school, where you lived, whom you hung out with.

But when you finally humored his stupid request and took him to your crusty old orphanage, that small shy smile you wore when you showed him your bedroom, tore at his heart in a way that he simply couldn’t comprehend. He felt nauseated at the idea of defiling you in a place you felt safe in. Promising to himself that he will not ruin this little haven that you called home.

Yet here he was bathing in the after effects of his selfish decisions. No he wasn’t selfish. He was downright greedy. Eagerly taking everything that you so naively offered. That’s how your relationship had always been. Him taking incessantly and you giving immeasurably.

He heaved out a shuddering breath, willing his eyes to move from the reflection. He looked around the small quarters in a desperate attempt to divert his thoughts away from the dangerous chasm that they were leading him to.

You will never be enough for them

He clenched his eyes shut trying to drown out the annoying voice.

They are too kind for a pathetic human like you. You will simply drag them down.

“Shut.Up” he ground out, his grip tightening unconsciously around you. You winced in your sleep and Whitney blanched. He instantly loosened his grip and pressed a soft kiss to your hair as a silent apology.

He could hear the birds chirrup in the distance. Cold air found its way through a draft in the window to tickle his skin. The dawn was approaching. He gently rolled over and placed you in the centre of the bed, carefully tucking you in as he slipped out of the covers silently.

Despite his solemn mood, a small smile crept up his face at the beautifully disheveled state you presented. Hair all mussed up, lips swollen legs sticking out from underneath his white shirt that covered your chest. Unable to stop himself he leaned down and caught your lips in a soft kiss, tasting those feathery dreams that he dared not see with open eyes.

He roved a hand though his blond hair, moving the fringe aside to get a good look at your face.

“So trusting. Letting your guard down around me” he laughed bitterly. Unbidden his eyes flitted to the words on your left hip and he looked away quickly before he started thinking too deeply about it.

It was an impulse. Yes. That’s exactly what it was. You both were intoxicated and he was so lost in the way you pleasured him, that he simply didn’t think before he wrote.

He stood to his full height and walked towards the door of the small room. He better slip out before that shady bitch Bailey found him.

Hovering a little by the door, he hesitated before stalking to your desk and grabbing a sheet of paper. “Screw it” he whispered taking a pen and quickly scribbling a note before he could talk himself out of it.

“You can keep the shirt. It looks better on you ;)”

He folded the small note and placed it beside your head, proudly sauntering outside your room shirtless. He didn’t look back, as he left you slumbering. Leaving nothing but his shirt and the words behind that he was too afraid to say to you.

And surely, you were in for a surprise when you would wake up and see “I love you” resting on your hip in his messy penmanship instead of the usual “Whitney’s toy”

"Autumnal Eternal"

"Walking down the pavement old,

more often I mused of the smile you wore.

Of the myriad of emotions you hid untold;

like a lost poem, imprinted on your soul.

Its words a fine day, I wish could learn;

For its forgotton rhyme had a beauty and yearn.

To burn on my memory and reflect on the heart;

like a folded away letter, from a lover miles apart.

The way your hand brushed 'gainst mine;

like a feather-kissed touch of the fleeting time.

The wind took me as our fingers entwined,

to a land of memories that outlasted time.

Yet here again on the pavement old;

I think of our story that was left untold.

Of the warm days and fall and cold,

and of the words I still retold.

I loved you then and I love you more;

For I left my heart to rest with you,

To beat with yours forevermore."

𝓖𝓻𝓪𝓫 𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴, 𝓵𝓮𝓽'𝓼 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓵 𝓾𝓹 𝓫𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮

(Keep scrolling for the master list) 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆 ^^ 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝑰 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉…𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔? 𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔? 𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

"ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ; ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ꜱʏʟʟᴀʙʟᴇ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅʟʏ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛᴇꜱ ᴏᴜʀ ᴜɴɪᴏɴ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏᴡᴇʟꜱ ʙᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɴᴏᴜɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴏɴᴀɴᴛꜱ ꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟʟᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ"

𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏💜 [𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒔]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓯~

(updated on 13th Sep'24)

1) 𝑫𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝑶𝒇 𝑳𝒆𝒘𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔

2) 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

3) 14 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖

4) 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕

5) 𝑯𝒐𝒕 𝑲𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒔

6) 𝑨𝒔𝒌𝒔/ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒓, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒚. 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚, 𝑼𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆~

Tag list-

#ashewrites📝 #mywords💜 #flâneur✨

#ashe’s mailbox📜 #tête à tête💜 #ashe’s journal🖌️

[ Side blog for reblogs- @flaneur002

All the follows will come from the main ]

Random DoL drabble because I’m bored… I just imagined what if Jordan was a LI with the same corruption stat as Sydney. So here it is lol~

CW- Religious themes, it’s sfw but mildly suggestive

Jordan The Priest x GN PC

You are in the Temple. Your hands are loaded with gardening tools as you move in and out of the garden. Your habit is covered in patches of dirt, stray leaves stick to your head and other places. You can feel sweat on your body with the amount of exercise you are getting |++strength +fatigue

As you enter the temple, your shoulder roughly collides with someone making you fall flat on your butt. You feel a sharp twinge of pain, as everything in your grasp is scattered around you |+stress +pain

You look up to see a familiar face loom over you. “I am so sorry, my child” Jordan mutters softly as he bends down and helps you up, lifting you by your arms. “I wasn’t watching where I was going” His long golden hair, slips from the sides of his cowl and tickles your nose. He frantically moves about gathering your scattered items as you dust yourself off.

Jordan smiles at you apologetically as he hands over the items to you, “I apologize again. I see you’re hard at work.” He gives you the items. Your fingers brush slightly. You smirk a little and hold his hand yanking him close to your face. His eyes widen as he stares at you, your faces inches apart, “Thank You” you mutter huskily making his breath hitch |+Arousal +Jordan’s Corruption

“Do-don’t mention it” a flush rises to his face, he stutters as he hastily picks up his book from the ground and walks quickly towards the pews without glancing back.

Its evening. You are at the orphanage at Domus street. You are wrapped in a towel as you move about your room, looking for your journal. After an hour long of futile search, your eyes land on a book with a brown leather binding.

It’s similar to yours, but when you flip it open, the name, “Jordan” rests on the page in neat and elegant cursive handwriting.

A curiosity fills you, and you sit on your bed and begin reading through the pages. Most of it is just mundane stuff, their schedule for everyday, some bookkeeping of temple allowances, and even regular musings. You mindlessly flip the pages, almost in a bored fashion when your eyes land on a very recent entry.

“I don’t understand what is happening these days. I find myself facing a deep precipice. This is wrong. So very wrong. In vain have I tried to cleanse myself of these thoughts. These vice like feelings are eating away at my mind. I can sense it. This darkness is slowly sweeping me in its corrupt hands, and I am willingly walking into its embrace.

I should’ve known you were trouble the moment I saw you drag Sydney into the depths of depravity. Yet I crave for you. I want you to look at me the way you look at them. I want to feel those emotions that feel so foreign to me. I feel alive in so very long a time. I have begun to look forward to the time you sneak up on me when you think I’m not looking. Those fleeting moments have ignited a flame of sorts. So Lord forgive me for I think I have sinned. Because I want to be loved by the sin incarnate”

Your mind swims with possibilities. This is a surprise. You never expected Jordan to reciprocate those feelings. Your heart thuds wildly as you realize something with a start. If you have Jordan’s journal right now, it means that your journal is currently in Jordan’s possession. And it has much more graphic and detailed entries inside it. Your own personal confessional of sorts that always begin with, “Forgive me Jordan, for I have sinned”

It holds several anecdotes about your little crush on the priest. Long paragraphs about the things you’d like to do with him |++ Arousal ++Jordan’s corruption

A lewd warmth fills you, as you think about running into Jordan tomorrow. You feel excited about the situation but it’s too tame to remove the cloud over your mind |-stress

[Silly bonus lols]- You are in the temple garden watering the flowers. You hear some footsteps approaching. It’s Jordan. He doesn’t look you in the eye, as he silently hands you over your journal. You can see his hands trembling a little. A wild tinge of red dusting his cheeks. When you think he’ll leave, he reaches inside his robe and pulls out a bottle. He uncorks it and just like that pours the entire contents all over your head. It seeps through your clothes making you shudder slightly as your habit clings to your body.

“It’s holy water” he mumbles, “You need it”. He leaves you alone in the garden, shivering as he walks back inside |++ Jordan’s corruption