#Whitney English

[a-girl-and-her-quotes]

Whitney English

[the-evil-clergyman]

Titania by Emma Whitney (1881-84)

[angrelysimpping]

Soul Mate AU

Soulmarks: tattoo like in appearance, soul marks form on all involved parties when the youngest member reaches their age of majority. Touching someone's soulmark without their consent is considered incredibly taboo and violating. Touching someone’s soulmark when baring the matching mark is supposed to be incredibly pleasurable for all parties involved, more so if it is the two marks that are touching.

ref link, tho I'm gonna put the same soulmark descriptions under each character anyway 

Contents: DoL relationships; Avery's anger issues; public stuff; doctor/patiant, mildly; talk of cutting (Kylar's section); teacher/student, mildly; farm fuckery (aka, Remy's whole fucking section); cat Bailey AU; FUCT Robin AU; Yandere Avery AU; Eldritch PC AU

Words: 2608

Alex

(93)

Geometric shapes. Bold, dark lines. Elbow to shoulder on their right arm. 

Loves touching your soulmark. Loves you touching their soulmark. Loves all of it.

Higher dominance Alex is likely to brush their hand down your soul mark whenever they have the chance. Even if it might be considered “rude” to do so in front of others. 

Lower dominance waits for more private moments. A teasing stroke over your mark while shielded from prying eyes, shivering if you return the favor and ghost a hand over their mark. 

Loves cuddling in the morning, pressed against each other, absentmindedly tracing the lines of your matching marks. 

Avery

(153)

Thin, delicate, lace like lines across their collar bones. Ends in thick, jagged lines going down their sternum 

God, there’s so much pressure on you to act absolutely perfect if you actually want Avery to let you walk around with a matching mark. 

That said, they like touching your mark.

At low anger, they’re tender, tips of their fingers gliding over the marks. 

They may even let you touch their marks, though not often. It’s very rare for Avery to allow it. Something about you touching their marks makes them feel out of sorts, out of control. So, it’s only when they’re drained from work that they indulge in the lazy pleasure of allowing you to take care of them in this way. A hand tucked between their legs and your tongue tracing their marks. 

High rage Avery presses down on your marks hard enough to make your vision blur, pain mixed into the act that would normally bring pleasure. But, you won’t make them do that too often, will you? 

Bailey

(215)

Thin lines that crisscrosses their lower stomach in an intricate pattern and circles around their upper thighs. 

It’s a stupid situation, trying to wrangle one of their brats in their own fucking office, it that’s Bailey’s life: stupid situation after stupid fucking situation.

Except when you headbutt their stomach, shirt having ridden up from the physical activity, and your skin brushes over the marks that had only recently bloomed across their skin, it somehow gets worse. 

What do you mean that the pain they brace themself for never comes? Or, it does, but mostly covered in strange euphoria. 

But, Bailey knows what that means, new anger sparking within them and fueling their ability to pin you down, to tear at your clothes, to expose your mark. 

Your mark that matches Bailey’s.

And they press down on it, thumbs digging into the soft of your thighs as you squirm under them. They hope you feel more pain than pleasure.

They have to keep you, they think. Who knows how you could be used against them if others find out? 

And what are you to them, anyway? Important, one way or another, apparently.

So, fuck you. 

Varey rarely touches your marks after that and forbids you from touching their’s.

Yet, sometimes, you’ll wake up with Bailey’s hands pressed against the mark, palm flat and fingers splayed, dark eyes fixed on that point of contact.

Briar

(108)

One thick line running over the knuckles on their right hand. 

Oh, new lil star walking into Briar’s lovely establishment with marks that match the one that just recently bloomed across their knuckles. How interesting. 

Enjoys taking your hand in theirs, ringed thumb rolling over the mark on your knuckles, watching you shiver at such a simple action. 

Especially likes touching your marks in public and letting others see how it affects you. 

That said, not keen on you doing the same to them. When especially tense, they don't mind the pad of your thumb following the line across the ridges of their knuckles while in their office. Lets their head tilt back, eyes shutting as their muscles relax. 

Black Wolf

(83)

Jagged marks under their left eye

It's actually quite easy to overlook their mark, looking almost like a scar. 

Brushing your thumb over the mark has Black Wolf relaxing, regardless of if they’re the alpha or not.

When they’re the alpha, they’ll climb on top of you, rutting against your thigh as you trace the mark.

When you’re the alpha, they roll over, wanting you to straddle them as your fingers linger.

As for them, they like licking your mark, regardless of how close to your eye it is.

Darryl

(88)

A thick ring around their left pinky

So nervous when they realize they share a mark with you. 

Covers up their own mark and it takes them a while to build up the courage to tell you that you have matching marks.

Very gentle the first time they touch your mark, asking if it’s okay in a voice barely above a whisper, fine tremor running through their hands.

Nervous when you first touch their mark, but doesn’t regret it a bit.

Likes hooking your pinkies together, a cross between holding hands and a pinky promise. 

Doren 

(103)

Looks like the letters of a dead language encircling their right wrist. 

Will not let you touch it in public, and that goes double when at school.

Also won’t touch your mark in public.

Well, they might if it’s to calm you down if you’re having a particularly rough day, though behind the privacy of a closed door or secluded corner.

Very gentle when they touch your mark, brushing over your wrist like it’s something fragile, breakable. 

Only really allows you to touch their mark when at their apartment, though if you’re holding hands then it’s easy to pretend that it’s an accident if you press your marks together and make Doren stumble a little.

Eden

(139)

Thick, almost painful looking lines over their left breast and going up their neck. Stops under their jaw. 

Don’t touch their marks. 

Don’t do it.

Even though you bare their match, their mirror, do not touch Eden’s marks.

At least, not until they trust you.

Even then, you’re risking your ass to touch Eden’s marks.

They like it, though it feels incredibly vulnerable, thus, don’t do it.

You can get away with it during sex, usually. Unless they’re punishing you. Then you’re gonna get slapped. 

Also more likely to get away with touching their marks when they’re falling asleep, little shiver of pleasure running through them as they drift off.

All this said, they’re touching your marks whenever the fuck they want.

Especially loves grabbing you by the chin and rubbing their thumb along the marks under your jaw. Double so if you’ve been acting like a brat. A good reminder that you’re theirs, no matter what. 

Great Hawk

(59)

Small intersecting circles under their right eye.

Please touch their marks.

So proud of their marks now that they’ve come in and they adore you paying any attention to them.

Chirps every time you touch them, all puffed up.

Often nuzzles your marks. Loves brushing against them with their feathers. 

Favorite time to have their marks touched or to touch your marks is when flying together.

Gwylan 

(75)

Very complex markings running down the length of their spine. 

It’s rare for their marks to be visible and is at a loss for words when they find out you wear their match.

Doesn’t really like them touched, to be honest. It’s weirdly intense, with it being along their spine and all. 

Only really likes it if you run a feather light finger down their spine. Not too much pressure, just enough for them to feel it. 

Also not big on touching your marks, either. 

Harper

(102)

Thin, barely noticeable spirals on their tongue.

God they're so fucking ecstatic to touch your mark at all fucking times. 

Every time you see Harper, they wanna check your tongue, rubbing their thumb over the marks. 

You're really lucky they haven't yet found a way to do away with the gloves yet when in the hospital. 

If you're ever in the asylum, they're not wearing gloves.

Would adore you touching their marks if they weren't on their tongue. Makes it kinda hard to remain “professional.”

That said, when they get to kiss you or coach you into kissing them, they nearly cream their pants from your soul marks touching. 

Kylar

(80)

Soft, faded looking lines that weave up their right arm like tendrils. Starts at their wrist, ends at their elbow. 

Touch!

Kylar's!

Marks!

Please!

Touching each others marks calms them down so fast.

Aggravates their jealousy like nothing else if you refuse to let them touch your marks. 

Always gets a soft look in their eyes when touching marks. 

Babbles about it when hysterical, rubbing your marks almost painfully hard. Why are you acting like this when there's proof right here that you are meant for them?

Maybe they should make sure your marks are deeper, more prominent, with their knife…

Leighton 

(109)

Bands around their right knee

They’ll know you’re soulmates long before you do.

And they’re not telling you, either.

Likes the spark of fear in your eyes when their hand first cups your knees, the confusion when pleasure runs up your spine when their thumb brushes the mark. 

Lets you stew, thinking something wrong  with you, like you’re a pervert for feeling pressure when Leighton, someone who isn’t your soulmate, touches your mark.

Would probably let you go on like that for a while, only revealing it as a power play. 

Doesn’t want you just randomly grabbing at their mark, but likes when you place your hand on their mark when giving them head.

Mason

(77)

Looks like gills on either side of their neck. 

Don’t touch their marks.

Don’t touch them at school. 

Don’t look at them.

Don’t acknowledge they’re your soulmate.

Their authority as a teacher is already undermined by their age and now this? One of their students is their soulmate?

Please say this is a bad joke. 

But, at the pond, when they’ve gotten to know you, maybe. 

Lets their eyes close as your fingers brush over them.

Hesitant on touching your marks but will if you insist. 

Remy

(161)

Small, dark spots behind their left ear. Some might say it's a cow print pattern. 

Fuck you.

They’ll never notice it if you drop into the riding school. Nor if you’re just Alex’s silly little partner.

No, the only way Remy finds you’re soulmate is during new cattle intake. 

And they’re pissed.

They’re always wearing their gloves, so at least you don’t react when they find it.

They’ll keep you in the dark about your matching marks. 

And then they keep you isolated until they figure out what the fuck to do with you.

Obedient cattle will find out eventually when they tug their gloves off, cupping your face and letting their thumb brush over your marks while you eat an apple out of their other hand.

Disobedient cattle find out when Remy has finally had it with you, ripping off their gloves and pressing their thumb against your marks so hard that it's more pain than pleasure, making your knees buckle and your will to fight flicker. 

Regardless, they won’t let you touch their marks. 

Robin

(85)

Thin, soft, intricate swirls in the middle of their chest. 

IT’S THEIR FAVORITE THING.

It’s so comforting, their best friend sharing their soulmark.

Huge boost of confidence anytime one of you touches the others marks.

Very flustered the first time due to the placement but gets more comfortable with it as time goes on.

Not big on touching soulmarks in public but only because of the placement. 

Low confidence Robin might be persuaded to touch soulmarks in semi public areas.

High confidence Robin might try to persuade you to touch soulmarks in semi public areas. 

Sydney 

(98)

Two thin lines starting at their shoulder blades and ending at their hips. 

Even though soulmarks are considered a divine symbol of love between partners, Sydney is hesitant to touch yours or let you touch theirs.

The higher their purity, the more likely they are to wait until you two are bound by the temple before touching soulmarks.

The more corrupt they become, the more likely it is that you can coax Sydney into taking off their shirt and letting you trace the marks on their back.

At their most corrupt, Sydney will slip their hand up the back of your shirt in somewhat public places to stroke over your marks. 

Whitney

(126)

Fluid, swirling lines on the inside of their right thigh. 

I hope you like wearing skirts ‘cause Whitney wants you in one at all times so they can hike it up and grab at your marks. 

And they will do that wherever they feel like.

At low dominance, they’ll stop if you tell them to at least?

Also, if you don’t wear a skirt, they’ll try to get their hands down your pants whenever they feel like messing with you and your marks.

And hey, Whitney is your soulmate. Shouldn’t you want to do shit that’ll make ‘em happy?

That’s what they’ll say, anyway.

As for touching their marks, they’ll only let you when alone. 

Even at low dominance, they’ll try to smack your hands away if you try to touch their marks when out public. 

Wren

(89)

Small swirls on their left ankle. Easily mistaken for an actual tattoo instead of a soul mark. 

Likely to kick off their shoes and press their foot against your mark under the table while playing blackjack as a way to distract you.

Gets flustered if you do it back to them, but tries to hide it behind wide smiles and low laughs.

Does sometimes daydream about having you laying under them, holding your foot, thumb brushing over your marks before dragging your leg over their shoulder and ducking down to give you head.

But, as your relationship is, it’s limited to playing footsie during card games.

BONUS

Cat Bailey

(83)

A bit better about touching marks but still isn't big on it.

Purrs every time you brush against their marks but don't ever mention that you noticed. 

It's really when they go into heat/rut that things change. They're more likely to grab at your marks, to press you against their's. 

Don't ever mention how sometimes you'll wake up to find Bailey resting with their cheek against the marks on your stomach, eyes closed, purr rumbling in their chest and tail flicking lazily. 

Fuct Robin

(68)

Less into soul mark touching, really.

Sure, they still like it, but it makes them feel out of sorts, like they’re still the fresh 18 year old in a cramped orphanage room fumbling around with their partner they were when you first got your matching marks. 

Though, they’re much more touchy with your marks. Likes sleeping with a hand pressed to the marks on your chest. Stops nightmares.

Yandere Avery

(89)

Hope you don't get cold easily because Avery isn't allowing you to wear anything that covers your marks when you're home. 

Out and about, they make you cover up more, but any passerby can tell your marks match. What, you didn't think you were leaving the house without them, did you?

Touchs your marks all the time: right when they wake up, when they first get home after work, before falling asleep. All. The. Time. 

Also more likely to touch your marks out in public, but only very rarely. 

Eldritch PC

(71)

The soul marks have added tentacle motifs now, lol.

More intense for when your partner touches you.

Doesn’t mind the intensity: 

Alex

Darryl

Doren

Eden

Great Hawk

Leighton

Robin

Pure Sydney

Cat Bailey

Yandere Avery

Less likely to touch because of the intensity:

Avery

Bailey

Briar

Black Wolf

Gwylan

Mason

Remy

Whitney

Fuct Robin

Likes the intensity: 

Harper

Kylar

Corrupt Sydney

Whitney

Wren

Black Wolf

Great Hawk

Fuct Robin

Yandere Avery

[alienkitty259]

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Quote: Whitney Hanson // paintings : holly warburton

[mofuubuns]

Aggie last night with @nastarciz :3

[asylumdwellermoved]

obligatory dol voice hc post with all named npcs except ones im not very confident on

(some of these will be a little vague, so my bad. will be embarrassed about how obvious my preference for high/light voices will be too lmao)

robin: noticably... soft. like, rarely gets much louder than normal talking voice too. i picture f!robin having an almost whispery quality to her voice in a subtle relaxing kind of way.

whitney: bastard (gn) edgelord energy through and through. f!whitney's voice is low and m!whitney's voice has an almost forced-sounding constant growl to it.

eden: might be the only one besides bailey that i picture to have such a deep voice tbh. not very expressive, but can get very growly in bed sometimes and you will get a bit of a rise out of them if you catch them off guard or make them smile.

kylar: f!kylar's voice is kind of light and m!kylar's voice is VERY light. someone mentioned kylar slightly trying to sound like an anime character with their voice and i wholeheartedly agree lmao. their voice gets very quivery at times under stress rather than much louder until they reach a breaking point. the only thing that is able to make them significantly loud on no special occasion outside of mental breakdowns is.................. well.

sydney: tired sounding, but strangely calming. i picture m!syd with a kind of androgynous voice and f! with a slightly more cheerful airy sounding voice. really doesn't change from pure to corrupt, corrupt may have a habit of slipping into a bit more vocal fry maybe but it's barely noticable.

avery: standard middle aged person voice, m!avery sounding a bit older maybe. laughing a lot and usually sounding like they have a grin on their face, with a hint of hollow fakeness.

great hawk: not actual bird in my playthroughs so they sound like just a weird human that squawks every now and then lol. mid-range with a pleasant and smooth voice, and when they get excited their voice raises but they sometimes sound weirdly neutral, as if their instincts don't always trigger them to emote like a human would.

alex: mid-low with the expected southern drawl. will get a bit on the louder side sometimes without realizing it. how much this has to do with my adhd hc for them im unsure.

bailey: very low and deep. will get suddenly very loud when they snap. not a hint of a smile in their voice outside of when they're teasing someone or saying something particularly dark.

harper: usually high-ish and interested sounding, like they're trying to bring your mood up or get you out of your shell by listening to them, if that makes sense. very relaxed sounding though, has a calming effect. gets a bit breathy sounding when something gets them particularly flustered/horny, and anything past that that gets their facade to slip makes their voice quiver. when the mask is completely off and they're being a full on creep there are rare moments where their voice will drop very low for a moment, sometimes mid sentence. honestly a little scary.

jordan: very airy and pretty. a bit awkward-sounding in tone sometimes though. it seems like they don't get out much.

briar: also bastard energy. a bit of a husky voice, but still too attractive-sounding for how scummy they are.

leighton: not sure what to say tbh. just an occasionally sleazy sounding older person. i know theres a lot of old man fuckers but nothing quite stands out to me about leighton.

sirris: maybe it's because theyre the only one known to be an actual parent but mid-range with dorky dad/mom energy. very friendly sounding!

doren: low and kinda deep. strikes me as being a little brief and quiet in one on one interactions outside of teaching.

mason: a strong voice, especially when teaching. really has that hustle motivation kind of vibe.

morgan: mid-high register and constantly shaky, maybe a little hoarse at times. growly when they're pissed off.

niki: mid range, fast talking and a little cold sounding but unintentionally.

remy: low and projected loud a good amount of the time, like they're reading off orders.

wren: mid-deep and a bit raspy. noticable when you can hear a smirk on their lips.

[chentastic]

Sometimes I forget that Shitney could be a woman and my brain go *blushes*

[quoththe-ravenn]

In honor of 420 here is the list of LI's+ that I think would smoke.

Kylar

Whitney

Corrupted Sydney

Robin

Wren

Morgan

Niki

Doren

Sirris

Winter

Mason

Darryl

Briar

Landry

Alex

[ruby-serpentis]

dol height head canons

i know every character’s appearance in dol is up to the interpretation of the player. so i thought i’d just share the characters’ heights in my head. this post is mostly for fun honestly. maybe i’ll even share what i would imagine to be their full appearances?

i’m going through as many characters as possible in this essentially. including pc too.

pc

tiny

4′10″ / 147 cm (male & female)

small

5′0″ / 153 cm (male & female)

normal

5′4″ / 163 cm (female)

5′7″ / 170 cm (male)

large

6′0″ / 183 cm (male)

6′1″ / 186 cm (female)

alex

5′9″ / 175 cm (female)

5′11″ / 180 cm (male)

avery

5′11″ / 180 cm (female)

5′10″ / 178 cm (male)

bailey

6′0″ / 183 cm (female)

6′3″ / 191 cm (male)

black wolf

5′10″ / 178 cm (female)

6′0″ / 183 cm (male)

briar

5′6″ / 168 cm (female)

5′11″ / 180 cm (male)

darryl

5′3″ / 160 cm (female)

5′8″ / 173 cm (male)

doren

5′8″ / 173 cm (female)

6′0″ / 183 cm (male)

eden

6′2″ / 186 cm (female)

6′4″ / 193 cm (male)

great hawk

5′3″ / 160 cm (female)

5′7″ / 170 cm (male)

harper

5′6″ / 168 cm (female)

5′10″ / 178 cm (male)

jordan

5′1″ / 155 cm (female)

5′7″ / 170 cm (male)

kylar

5′2″ / 157 cm (male & female)

i know kylar’s size depends on the player. but i would imagine them to be at a constant height. plus short kylar with a large built pc? i’m living for it personally!

landry

5′8″ / 173 cm (female)

5′7″ / 170 cm (male)

leighton

5′11″ / 180 cm (female)

6′0″ / 183 cm (male)

mason

6′4″ / 193 cm (male & female)

my reasoning behind this is mostly because mason is the swim teacher so it’s not hard to imagine them as a swimmer. and lots of swimmers are quite tall.

quinn

5′3″ / 160 cm (female)

5′6″ / 168 cm (male)

remy

5′11″ / 180 cm (female)

6′1″ / 185 cm (male)

river

5′10″ / 178 cm (female)

5′9″ / 175 cm (male)

robin

5′8″ / 173 cm (female)

5′7″ / 170 cm (male)

sirris

5′5″ / 165 cm (female)

5′6″ / 168 cm (male)

sydney

5′5″ / 165 cm (female)

5′10 / 178 cm (male)

whitney

5′10″ / 178 cm (female)

5′11″ / 180 cm (male)

winter

5′10″ / 178 cm (male & female)

wren

6′0″ / 183 cm (female)

5′10″ / 178 cm (male)

[inkyquince]

So far, I've got Whitney, Kylar, Doren and Mason down as solid milf/dilf chasers. I FEEL LIKE IM MISSING SOME BUT OH WELL.

Whitney: As already discussed, has that Theo-Love Quinn thing going on from You. Horny and not trying to hide it, openly tryna fuck, jealous and makes sure to have you catch him getting head from a classmate if you try to turn him down.

Kylar: Parental issues all around. As mentioned before, he has a daddy kink in the way people have mommy kinks and has a mommy kink the way people have daddy kinks. Will stalk the fuck out of you and can't decide if he wants you to be your kid or wants to fuck you. Messed up lil dude, he settles somewhere in the middle.

Doren: IMAGINE. Parent-Teacher night. Your kid thinks it's neat that you and Mister Doren get along. He's the best teacher and smug that you and him find plenty to compliment your kid on. Hell, they wouldn't even be mad if Doren started popping up more in their personal life. Doren definitely snagged your number by the end of the evening and is trying to comb his beard into something sort of neat by that weekend.

Mason: Yeah. Make him into your boy toy. He'd be so happy. Is the perfect arm candy and will carry your bags.

[e-louise-bates]

Last Line Tag

I was tagged by @rockinlibrarian

Rules: Share the last line of something you're working on or an art project/wip

I'm guessing no one wants to read the last line I wrote for my English Lit paper, which is technically the most recent thing I've been working on (well, that and my ILS paper, but that one I just finished and turned in so it's not a wip anymore). So here's the most recent line I wrote for the fourth Whitney & Davies book:

"And the other, smaller elderly woman was Mrs. Davies, Lennox’s mother."

Yes, in this book we finally get to meet Len's mother! I am working so hard to keep her from being a carbon copy of the Dowager Duchess from the Lord Peter books, which is probably why this is my last line, because I'm a bit stuck on how to capture her personality adequately. But that's ok, because I also realized a couple of days ago that I need to go all the way back to the first chapter and rewrite almost everything from halfway through that because I started out down the wrong path.

And that, my friends, is why I can get to the end of my first draft and have very little revising to do--I do most of it as I go, as soon as I realize something has gone askew. Yes, it means a first draft takes me forever to get through, but it also means that my first draft is a lot closer to the finished project than you would otherwise expect. It is how my brain works best!

[cloudsmooch]

Immaculance | Chapter 2

Whitney makes good on his promise to Nora from their encounter over the summer break. Read on AO3 here! warnings: light violence

Nora’s lungs burned as she sprinted around the side of the school. The September air made her teeth ache from her heavy breathing, and her book bag hammered against her lower back in an annoying rhythm. She had only one destination in mind, and she hoped and prayed to whatever deity the Temple worshiped that Doren was already there and that his door wasn’t locked. The other teachers were even less inclined to leave their doors unlocked this early in the morning, and the library was too crowded, ruling that out as well. She’d just have to make it to the rear courtyard before Whitney did, assuming he wasn’t already posted there waiting for her. If he was, her only option would then be to hop the fence and lose him in the industrial alleyways, and hopefully make it back before the first bell rang.

She spared a glance behind her. Although out of sight now that she’d rounded a corner, the heavy footsteps and hollering of the boys were progressively sounding closer and she couldn’t afford to stay on the narrow pathways that lined the campus property. Veering left towards the gymnasium she continued on, a burning stitch forming in her side. She ignored it the best she could. Students in her path blessedly parted like the sea upon noticing her, preventing her from having to slow down.

She cut behind a row of sheds and other storage buildings that neighbored the gym, feeling a bit bad for stumbling through a little garden plot that some of the agricultural students had been tending over the summer and making a mental note to come back to assess the damage. A stream of water from the sprinkler system misted her before she could dodge it, dampening her hair and soaking her shoes and knee socks from a lighter gray into a dark soggy black. She groaned and rolled her eyes at the sensation of wet socks, squeezing out water with every thud of her feet. This was just the cherry on top.

Perhaps she deserved this. The boy she eventually learned was named Whitney had promised her in the park a few months ago that he'd make her life a living hell, the day she teasingly stared down at him from a tree he and his friends had chased her into. He had certainly tried all summer. Of course it was easier for her to weasel her way out of his grasp when she had the whole town at her disposal, with all its nooks and crannies that she knew like the back of her hand. That particular day she'd just waited for them to lose patience, as she learned early on they had little of it, and they soon left her but not before Whitney threw a beer bottle at her and swore he'd get her eventually.

It was also easier to laugh it off back then, but their little cat-and-mouse game was finally catching up to her. They were on Whitney's turf now.

Maybe she should've just let him beat the shit out of her the day he caught her in his backyard, let him get it out of his system and think they were even.

She had been particularly desperate that day. Her birthday had been looming over her, and the older girls on her floor had warned her about what turning eighteen meant. The problem was nobody seemed to know exactly how much Bailey expected from them, and anybody who did know was gone, so she'd started saving everything she could spare. Unfortunately, despite the fact that it was summer and the busiest season for the cafe, Sam had been cutting her hours shorter and shorter. He claimed it wasn't anything against her. They hadn't been doing very well with the town seeing one of its lowest records of tourism in years, and the other employees had seniority over her. If business picked back up again, he promised he'd schedule her more.

It hadn't, and it made her antsy enough to go to Danube. Knocking on doors was never very fruitful, but occasionally it connected her with people who needed help with errands or other small chores. Sometimes people were just lonely and wanted company, but she tried to avoid people like that. Nobody was really looking for help that day and she told herself she'd try one more house before calling it quits, finding herself waiting awkwardly in front of a big brick manor and not really expecting anything to come of it. A frazzled looking lady in a servant's uniform had opened the door and waved her in once she heard Nora was offering babysitting services.

She had no way of knowing that the person who needed babysitting was Whitney, and if she had she would've fervently declined.

There was no use speculating about it now, because she sealed her fate as she rounded another corner that led into the rear courtyard of the school. He was waiting for her there, a lit cigarette in hand and two burly looking boys flanking either side of him.

"Grab her," she heard Whitney say. Knowing she was fucked, she made one last ditch effort for the fence, but the boys grabbed her before she could put a shoe in the chain link and attempt to haul herself up. One of the boys seized her book bag off her shoulder roughly and threw it somewhere she couldn't see, while the other boy grabbed her by the waist and flung her to the ground, momentarily crushing one of her hands with his shoe. They pinned her down, and she hissed from the weight of their knees digging into the flesh of her forearms. Sand and grass clung to her damp hair and clothes as she struggled against them. Whitney just watched as she thrashed her legs at him, a small smirk on his face.

He crouched down and squatted over her thighs, eyeing her over. "Mornin', slut."

This was the happiest she'd ever seen him. She realized he would be quite handsome if it weren't for the harsh scowl that always seemed to be on his face, one brown eye usually covered by a curtain of dirty blonde hair. He took a lazy puff from his cigarette as he studied her, letting the ashes fall onto her squirming body beneath him. She tried to raise her legs to push him away from her, but at some point in the scuffle the boys who had been chasing her had arrived and were now pinning each of her legs down.

"Uh, uh, uh," he scolded playfully. "No running away this time."

Nora began to panic as his gaze shifted to a sliver of bare skin that had been exposed where her shirt had ridden up, for the first time genuinely afraid of him. Without thinking she gathered as much saliva as she could manage in her mouth and spat it in his direction, not caring if it hit him and mostly hoping to redirect his attention. She could handle getting knocked around by bullies; it was when their eyes lingered a little too long on her body, a voracious, nervous spike of energy in the air that sounded the alarm bells in her mind. She recalled the girl from that morning, and the vacant, far off look on her face, and the conversation she'd had with Bailey.

Maybe this was something she'd just have to get used to, but for now she wasn't ready to stop fighting.

Whitney cursed at her, and his large hand grabbed her by the jaw and slammed her head hard into the ground. She tried to blink away the stars forming in her vision, doing her best to level her breathing and not groan out in pain. "You don't know when to quit, do you?" He grumbled.

He looked at one of his friends and flicked his head in Nora's direction. "Cover her mouth."

The boy hesitated, but still crouched obediently down where Nora's head lay on the cold ground. "But what if she bites me?" He asked pitifully.

"For fuck's sake, use your fucking tie!" Whitney spat. He looked around impatiently, looking out for anyone who'd come and spoil this moment for him. The boy's necktie was soon thrust into Nora's already dry mouth, the little fibers sticking grossly to her tongue and removing what little moisture she did have left. Closing her eyes, she huffed hot air through her nose in an effort to calm herself, almost as impatient as Whitney for this to be over.

Satisfied that she wouldn't try to spit on him again and that she was slowly becoming more docile the more energy she spent, Whitney's attention returned to her body. He peeled her shirt up even further, exposing her belly and the underwiring of her cheap bra. Nora willed her panting to slow, but it only made the rise and fall of her stomach faster. Whitney smirked.

"I've been waiting for this all summer," he said, unable to hide the hatred in his voice despite the calculatedly calm air he was projecting. "But I'm sure you already know that."

There was a sizzle, and a searing pain bloomed from a spot under Nora's ribcage. She closed her eyes involuntarily as she flinched and couldn't stop a small whimper from escaping, the sound fortunately muffled by the fabric stuffed in her mouth. She struggled again under the crushing weight on her limbs as dull hot flashes creeped over the expanse of her skin, desperate to wrest herself free and sweating in spite of the cool temperature outside.

Whitney sat fully on top of her now, gloating at her discomfort before discarding the now put out cigarette. He cupped her jaw with his hand, almost delicately this time, and leaned down to her ear.

"You're mine, bitch. We're gonna have a lot of fun this year."

She held his gaze once he leaned back up to look at her, her eyes burning in defiance. Bring it on, she thought bitterly. He scowled, looking a little less pleased with himself, and opened his mouth to say something else when somebody's hushed voice interrupted him. "Doren's coming!"

Whitney and his friends scrambled, the weight that had been crushing Nora blissfully leaving her aching bones. Immediately she ripped the necktie out of her mouth and gasped, taking in a deep breath of fresh, cold air. "See ya around, slut!" Whitney yelled, the laughter of his friends growing dimmer as she pushed herself to sit up and cradled her sore arms into her chest.

Robin appeared, kneeling down on the ground beside her, and she saw Doren's shaggy mop of red hair following closely behind with a wolfish look almost hidden under his impressive beard.

"You alright, lass?" Doren asked as he came near, his voice gruff and unhappy. Nora nodded, wincing as he helped her up.

"Take her to the nurse," he said to Robin. "I'll write you a note if you're late. I'm goin' to go have myself a talk with Mr. Clark."

"No, it's okay." Nora said. She waved off Robin who had begun to gently tug her in the direction of the infirmary. "I'm fine. Can't we just wait in your room?" The burn mark on her stomach screamed in protest at her, but she grit her teeth and ignored it. She was not going to the nurse on her first day if she could help it.

Doren, who had been staring off grumpily in the direction of the pathway that Whitney and his friends had ran away down, turned and fixed her with a glare in the way only a disappointed teacher can.

"Nora," he started, sounding a bit exasperated, like he couldn't believe she was arguing with him but was too tired to put up a fight. He looked down and noticed the discarded necktie and cigarette lying in the grass. His eyes narrowed, but he sighed as he bent down to pick up the tie, tucking it into the back pocket of his pants.

"Fine," he said. "But go clean up first." And with that he left them at a purposeful pace, his large frame taking up most of the path.

Nora slumped with relief and faced Robin. He shifted uncomfortably next to her, his big doe eyes silently asking her if she was okay.

"Don't look at me like that," she bristled.

His eyes widened at her tone, and she ignored the pang of guilt it roused in her in favor of finding her book bag. He hadn't done anything wrong. In fact, he'd saved her by finding Doren, but Nora was overwhelmed and figured she had enough on her plate without having to worry about upsetting him. She raked her eyes over the courtyard in search of her bag.

"It's over here," she heard Robin say, his voice soft. She turned and watched him bend to pick it up, extending her hand to take it from him. Instead he threw it over his shoulder and gestured without looking at her for her to follow him down the short pathway and in through the glass doors of the school's rear entrance. Nora put on her best poker face as students in the hallway stared at her, caught off guard by her disheveled appearance. She could feel the sand dislodging from her body as she walked, and when she looked down at herself she saw her socks and shoes were caked in it, her skirt wrinkled and off kilter. She discretely fixed it, rotating it back into place by the waistband.

Apart from shameless staring, they made it to the toilets unbothered. Robin waited outside for her, still guarding her book bag like it was something precious and doing his best not to fidget under the attention on them.

Mercifully the girls bathroom was empty, because Nora's reflection startled her as she walked in. Blades of grass stuck awkwardly in clumps of damp hair on the back of her head, the ponytail she had put it in this morning looser than ever. She wrestled it out of its hair band, wincing as she combed her fingers through it and carelessly pulled hairs from her scalp. She must've tugged too hard because the elastic of the band snapped apart, shooting on to the tiled floor.

Every muscle in her body flexed in sharp annoyance, her anger over whatever cruel joke the universe must be playing on her barely being contained. She turned the sink on and dunked her head under it. The water was cool and felt good against her warm face. She opened her eyes and watched the little gray dots of sand being washed down the drain, wishing she could shrink herself down and follow them.

She gave herself an extra moment under the water before reaching blindly for the paper towel dispenser on the wall, cranking it a couple times and collecting the towels it spat out. She did her best to soak up the excess water from her hair and used the soggy paper to scrub the sand off the exposed skin of her arms and knees. The burn on her stomach tingled as she moved, and she lifted up the hem of her shirt to inspect it.

It was yellowing slightly, bubbling into a small blister with the skin encircling it an angry red. Unsure of what to do, she got a fresh paper towel and dampened it with some soapy water, patting it onto her skin without applying too much pressure and then dabbing it dry. That would have to do.

The door opened and a few girls walked in, their chattering quieting a little after noticing Nora quickly dropping the hem of her shirt. That was her cue. She brushed past them and tossed the used paper towels into the bin, catching the door before it could swing closed.

Robin was standing against the wall opposite the toilets. He handed her her book bag as she approached him.

"Thanks," she said a bit sheepishly. "Sorry for snapping at you."

"It's okay," he said. She could see his features visibly relax as they fell into step together. He suggested they go get their schedules and locker combinations from the front office before heading to Doren's classroom where they could wait for the first bell to ring, and she agreed, eager to pretend this was just a regular morning at school.

If he was worried Whitney would make another appearance on their way, Robin didn't show it, but she could feel him sneaking glances at her in her peripheral. It was strange to her how he towered over her now. For the longest time they were similar heights and she didn't have to crane her neck to see his eyes. It felt wrong, his growth spurt something uncontrollable like a helium balloon slipping out of her grasp. Even stranger, she kept noticing now that she looked more presentable that they were still being stared at, but it wasn't her fault anymore. They were staring at him. If he noticed the two girls huddled by a row of lockers, ogling him and whispering to each other, he didn't show that either.

She knew there was a chance he could be building up the courage to ask her about Whitney and she really didn't want to have to answer, so instead she brought up something she knew he'd be excited to talk about. "What are you doing after school? I don't have to work, but Sam said he had something for me at the cafe."

"I'm not doing anything," Robin smiled. "I'll swing by with you. Do you have any idea what it is?"

Nora shook her head. "Maybe he's firing me," she joked, although after this morning she wouldn't be surprised if that ended up being true. What was one more cosmic punch to the gut?

"Well, you're welcome to work at the lemonade stand with me." He said, nudging her. "I'll put in a good word for you."

Nora smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Robin made next to nothing at the stand, working only on the weekends. If there weren't enough tourists for the cafe, then there most definitely weren't any down at the beach. She never seemed to know how to tell him he was wasting his time there, but she'd have to figure out a way soon before it became too late for him.

They'd made it to the front office by that point and checked in with one of the counselors, giving their names and receiving their schedules and locker combinations. Their lockers unfortunately were very far apart, as they were sorted alphabetically by surname. Robin gestured for her to hand him her schedule as they left the way they came in, hopeful that they had at least a few classes together.

"You're lucky, you have Biology with Sirris," he said. "And it looks like we only have History together." He handed her back the schedule with a pout as they came up to the English classroom door. They knocked in case Doren was in there, but when they got no answer they opened it and went inside. He was most likely off giving Whitney and his friends detention, if he could find them. Nora didn't know whether she'd be worse off for Whitney being punished or better. It was probably the former.

She'd worry about that later, though. Instead she helped herself to one of the English textbooks Doren would be passing out later anyway, and sat down on a bean bag in a corner of the room. Robin followed and sat down in a chair next to her, taking out his cheap phone to play a mobile game.

Doren's classroom, and Doren by extension, had become one of her favorite things about school and would be one of the only things she'd miss after graduating. At first she just assumed he liked her because she was quiet and didn't disrupt class, but she eventually realized he kept an eye out for most of the orphans in the school. He always kept granola bars in his desk and random toiletries that he could pass to them in secret, and was always generous with deadlines for assignments. Some days he let her get away with eating lunch in there with him, but that generally wasn't allowed and she didn't want to press her luck with him.

She skimmed the table of contents of the textbook, flipping through to see if she recognized any of the short stories they'd be going over. Faint arcade music played from Robin's game, one she wasn't familiar with.

"Did he hurt you, Nora?" Robin asked softly.

"Huh?" She looked up from the textbook. He wasn't looking at her, his eyes trained on his phone. His brows were furrowed.

"Did he hurt you," he repeated, less of a question this time. "Before Doren and I got there."

"I'm fine," she started to say, but he turned to face her and her irritation died in her throat. She hated when he looked at her like that, like she was breaking his heart into tiny little pieces. His game jingled to signal that his character had died, and he turned away from her again frowning.

"Why is he doing this to you? Who even is he?" He asked.

Even if Nora felt like telling him, she didn't know where to begin. "He's just some asshole," she said. She flipped a page, pretending to be looking at her book. "He doesn't have anything better to do."

Robin shook his head and sighed, probably frustrated with her but too afraid to push the issue. He tapped his phone to start his game over, the glow from the screen lighting up his face. "I just don't like when you get hurt," he said.

"You don't have to worry about me." She curled into herself, shrinking as far as she could into the bean bag.

"I know," he agreed. "That doesn't mean I won't, though."

Nora felt her own heart break in her chest.

---------------

Read Chapter 3 on tumblr here!

[angrelysimpping]

I was looking through your writings again and saw the post about taking of bras i can take mine off without my hands so i would just randomly take it off without my hands and give to them just to see their faces

fffffffffffffffff

Alex: red-faced and stuttering. Depends on their dominance levels if they tackle you or drop your bra and scurry off.

Avery: better be in fucking private or so help them

Bailey: stone-faced. Might pull you over their knee. Throws it out. (But, in my wishful thinking, they fish it back out of their bin and shove it into the back of their wardrobe.)

Eden: this is an invitation for Eden to grope you, right?

Great Hawk: ????? ok!

Kylar: shaking. Glances around to make sure no one saw what you just did. Asks to go somewhere privet

Leighton: in public, nothing. Says they'll get rid of it (they don't.) In private or in the brothel? Smirks and slips it into their pocket.

Remy: jaw clenched. Tells you to never do that again.

Robin: also red-faced. Tries to give it back to you without anyone else seeing.

Sydney: goes pink and chides you for doing something so lewd when pure. Laughs and teases you about how maybe they'll try it on when corrupt. Would probably like to share clothes like that.

Whitney: biggest shit-eating grin. Showes it off to everyone what their slut gave them.

Wren: eyes flick over your chest as they give you a sleazy grin. Keeps eye contact while rubbing one of the cups against their cheek and says it feels soft. Asks if there's anything else you wanna take off.

[Bonus]

Anxious Guard: yelps when they realize what you've done. Tries to snap at you for doing something like that. Doesn't land well, their voice breaks.

Briar: gives you a lazy grin and tells you to save it for the VIP rooms

Darryl: face gets so hot their glasses fog over.

Doren: Doren.exe has stopped working. Ties to give it back. Will hold onto it and try to give it to you every time you visit their apartment. Doesn't want to get rid of it but they can't keep it.

Harper: grin widens a fraction of an amount before praising you. Your therapy is progressing nicely.

Landry: Act like nothing has happened. Nothing at all. There isn't a faint tremor in their hands, their cheeks aren't a dusty pink, and they definitely haven't started sweating on the back of their neck. No. They're fine.

Methodical Guard: frowns and says that's against regulation. Doesn't give it back, though.

Niki: quirks an eyebrow before shrugging, biting down on the stick in their mouth and making the lollipop click against their teeth. They guess this is a topless shoot now.

Quinn: gives you a wide, sleazy grin. Well, you sure know how to get their attention. Anything else you feel like giving them, doll?

Relaxed Guard: wide grin as they pull you into their lap and slide their hands up your shirt, saying they need to give you a quick search to make sure you aren't hiding any other surprises.

Scarred Inmate: oh, you better have done that in public where everyone could see you're their bitch.

Veteran Guard: another smug asshole. Folds it and slips it into their pocket. If it wasn't for the slight twitch at the corners of their mouth, you'd think nothing had even happened.

[alienkitty259]

[mailperson]

in a classic #bulbapedia moment, a bizarrely completely made up bullet point in the trivia section for gym leaders