#not a twenty five season television show

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Dying Has Never Frightened Us: Intergenerational Trauma, Healing, & the Burden of Legacy in Castlevania

An analytical and interpretation essay that discusses how the concept of family legacy and duty can lead to intergenerational trauma in the Castlevania franchise. Focuses primarily on the Belmont who found strength from his pain by honouring his family’s legacy no matter how heavy it felt or the burden that came with it and the Belmont who found his own strength from the ones he loved and who loved him in return.

☽ Read the full piece here or click the read more for the text only version ☽

THE BURNING NEED FOR RETRIBUTION: INTRODUCTION

The world has trauma. It is deep, collective, spanning its roots over centuries and territories dating back to when the borders of today never existed, and it has largely gone untreated—but not undiscussed.

From children’s cartoons to award winning dramas, trauma has become one of the most common topics for media to discuss, depict, and dissect. It makes sense given the sort of physical and mental gauntlet which society has been through in the past five years. Sometimes even in just the past twenty-four hours. From an uptick in disasters stemming from climate change, the rise of publicised policy brutality, genocide as a result of settler colonisation, new developments coming to light after decades of denial regarding the residential school system in Canada, and of course a global pandemic which is still making ripples. Then there is the recent examination of generational trauma which differs from culture to culture. The open wounds we’ve already left and will be leaving for future age groups.

Seeing how fiction reflects reality and vice versa, it isn��t any wonder that movies, television shows, and video games find ways of processing this worldwide sensation of frustrated ennui along with the need to find answers as to how regular citizens can fix things, including ourselves, when politicians and world leaders cannot. When reality cannot provide satisfying resolutions, when we are left confused and even angrier than before due to the apparent shortcomings of institutions meant to provide relief towards the average person, it’s natural to look towards specific media. Whether for coping mechanisms, validation for this collective and personal trauma, or simply for cathartic release so the emotions don’t have to remain bottled up.

Castlevania , both its original 2017 series and the most recent entry of Castlevania: Nocturne (as well as the video games which the show is inspired by), is no stranger to this popular trend of storytelling and characterisation. Yet this trend also comes with its own controversy. When done with a deft writer’s hand and a layer of empathetic critical thinking, trauma in fiction and how we heal from its intergenerational effects can be a powerful tool in raising awareness in regards to something left forgotten by the larger public or it can allow viewers to look inwards at themselves. Done poorly or with a lack of empathy and taste, then the floodgates open.

But beyond the usual discourse surrounding trauma in fiction (how to portray a “realistic” panic attack, what makes a “good” victim, the problematic connotations of forgiving one’s abuser, etc.), Castlevania has its own things to say about the lingering effects of grief, guilt, and pain over the course of thirty-two episodes (now a fourty episode runtime with the inclusion of Castlevania: Nocturne season one). The series—particularly the first which ran from 2017 to 2021—has now gained a reputation for being one of the darker animated ventures tackling themes of religious corruption, abuse, sexual manipulation, and injustice among many others. The value and thoughtfulness of each depicted theme ranges from being genuinely compelling to delving into mere shock value yet the series is also known for its uplifting ending and cathartic release from such dark themes.

One could write entire dissertations on each complicated character and their developments. From Dracula’s suicidal tendencies as a result of unchecked grief to Isaac’s conflicted redemptive journey beginning with his unflinching loyalty to the king of vampires and ending with him forging down his own path in life. How characters such as Carmilla, consumed by her inner agonies and burning hatred towards the world to the bitter end, was left isolated from her sisters until she was forced to choose the terms of her own death, while others like Alucard, Sypha, and to an extent Hector rose above their individual torments in favour of hope and survival. However, this examination will focus on the series’ titular family of vampire hunters. Namely, the Belmont who found strength from his pain by honouring his family’s legacy no matter how heavy it felt or the burden that came with it and the Belmont who found his own strength from the ones he loved and who loved him in return.

Note: this essay will delve into speculations and purely interpretative hypotheses stemming from the author’s own opinions in regards to how they personally read the presented text. It will also discuss heavy spoilers for the majority of Castlevania games and the first season of Castlevania: Nocturne.

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WHAT A HORRIBLE NIGHT FOR A CURSE: THE CYCLE OF TRAGEDY IN THE CASTLEVANIA GAMES

This examination begins in the exact same place as the show began with its inspirations and references: the original video games developed and distributed by Konami Group Corporations. It’s easy to get swept up in the notion that because of the technological limitations with video games at the time, the Castlevania games are devoid of story or characterization. Yet even the most bare bones of a story found in the games can still have something to say about the burden of legacy and how trauma left unconfronted has the possibility of tearing down that legacy. The most prominent example being Castlevania: Symphony of the Night , arguably the first game to begin delving into a deeper story and character driven narrative. It follows the events of Castlevania: Rondo of Blood , a game which portrayed its protagonist Richter Belmont as a force of nature in the face of evil, always knowing what to do, what to say, and emerging victorious without so much as breaking a sweat (or candelabra).

In keeping with the time of its release and the landscape of popular media particularly in Japan, Rondo of Blood feels like a traditional 1990s action anime complete with brightly coloured cutscenes and character designs reminiscent of Rumiko Takahashi and Rui Araizumi (despite the usual classic horror elements present in every Castlevania game). This is most evident with Maria Renard, the second playable protagonist who attacks with her own arsenal of magical animals and even has her own upbeat theme music during the credits when players complete the main story in “Maria mode”. Richter also shares many similar personality traits with his counterpart, namely his optimism in the face of danger and the confidence that he will be the hero of this narrative.

Of course all this changed in the direct follow-up to Rondo of Blood , the aforementioned Symphony of the Night . Arguably the new staple of future Castlevania games to come, not only did it change the gameplay and aesthetic, it changed the very core of the characters as well. The game even begins with the same ending as Rondo of Blood where Richter fights and defeats Dracula with the help of Maria. Then during the opening crawl, we discover that during a time skip, Richter has vanished and Maria is searching for him. Surely this will be nothing less than a heroic rescue and the most powerful Belmont of his century will be restored to his rightful pedestal.

Yet for the first half of Symphony of the Night , the player is faced with a sobering realisation—the villain we’re supposed to be fighting, the one responsible for conjuring Dracula’s castle back into existence, is Richter himself. No longer the hero we’ve come to adore and look up to from the previous game. Of course, the player along with new protagonist Alucard both know that something isn’t right; perhaps Richter isn’t in his sound mind or some nefarious force is possessing him to commit evil deeds. But unless the player solves the right puzzles and find the right in-game items, Symphony ends with Alucard putting down Richter like a rabid dog. However, this ending can be avoided and a whole second half of the game is revealed.

Richter’s canonical ending is left ambiguous at best, tragic at worst. He laments over his moment of weakness, claiming the events of the game were his fault despite Alucard’s insistence that confronting Dracula was always going to be inevitable. Still, the tragedy of Richter’s fate and how he is portrayed in Symphony of the Night comes much later, when it’s implied the Belmonts are no longer capable of wielding the fabled Vampire Killer, a leather whip imbued with supernatural properties that has been passed down generation after generation. One mistake and misjudgment left the Belmont legacy in a perpetual long lasting limbo with the titular hunters themselves seemingly disappearing from history as well, leaving others such as the Order of Ecclesia to pick up the fight against Dracula’s eventual resurgence. It isn’t until the height of World War II (the setting of Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin ) when the whip’s true potential is finally set free thanks to the actions of Jonathan Morris, a distant relative of the infamous vampire slaying family. However, the only way in which Jonathan can reawaken the Vampire Killer is by defeating a manifestation of the person who last wielded it and also whom the whip abandoned nearly two hundred years prior—Richter Belmont.

Yet players and fans don’t get to see it in the hands of another Belmont until the events of 1999 when Julius Belmont defeats the latest incarnation of Dracula and seals his castle away in a solar eclipse. Even then, he loses his memory until thirty years pass and he’s forced to do battle with Soma Cruz, an innocent transfer student who is also the reincarnation of Dracula. If the protagonist of Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow succeeds in defeating the cosmic threat that has awakened his supposed “evil” destiny, then Julius can finally lay down the Vampire Killer in peace (until the sequel Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow , of course). If not, the game ends with Julius keeping his promise to Soma should he lose sight of his human side and let Dracula be reborn once again. In a scene that directly mirrors the beginning of Symphony , Julius enters the castle throne room, Soma throws down his wine goblet, and the screen goes black. The cycle continues anew. Julius has upheld the duty of his family name but at what cost.

The theme of tragedy getting passed down through different generations, permeating from person to person even with those who are not Belmonts, is a staple of later Castlevania games following Symphony of the Night . In some instances, pain and trauma is what jumpstarts the story moving forward. Castlevania: Curse of Darkness begins with its protagonist Hector in a direct parallel to Dracula swearing revenge on the one responsible for the murder of his wife; an ultimatum that follows him every step of the way, fuelling his rage and determination up until the penultimate moment when his goal is within reach. Yet even then he cries out, claiming this “murderous impulse” isn’t truly him—it’s the result of an outside force he himself once aided before defecting before the events of the game.

Something similar occurs in Castlevania: Lords of Shadow , an alternative reimagining of the franchise that while still a topic of division amongst most die hard fans has also seen a resurgence of popularity and reevaluation. It begins with Gabriel Belmont grieving over the death of his own wife (a trope which is unfortunately common amongst the majority of Castlevania titles). This is a wound that follows him throughout his journey until an even more painful and shattering twist regarding Marie Belmont’s demise is revealed to Gabriel later in the game.

However, there is one example from the games that stands above the rest in regards to the sort of damage which generational trauma as a result of familial duty and legacy, upheld to an almost religious degree, can inflict. So much so that even a declaration of retribution can evolve into a generational curse.

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HUNT THE NIGHT: LEON BELMONT & THE MYTH OF FREE WILL

The Castlevania timeline didn’t always have a set beginning. An inciting incident by which all future stories, characters, and inevitable calamities could base themselves off of. Rather it changed from game to game until a definitive origin was settled in 2003 with the release of Castlevania: Lament of Innocence . For at least two games, the starting point was supposed to be with Simon Belmont, making his way through a labyrinth of dark forests and cursed towns, before finally traversing the ever changing fortress in Transylvania to defeat Dracula. He even went as far as to gather the remains and resurrect the eponymous lord of his own choice just to rid himself of another curse entirely. 

Castlevania protagonists are always cursed by something. Whether it be the cause of Dracula’s influence, their own actions as seen in Lords of Shadow , a curse of the flesh like how Simon had to tackle his own ailment in Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest , or something else just as common as Dracula’s curse: the burden of honouring a family duty.

A basic yet iconic 1986 entry followed by a sequel that had potential especially with the first appearance of the now famous “Bloody Tears” track but suffered from a rather confusing and lacklustre end product. Then suddenly the starting point for the franchise timeline changed drastically. Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse despite the numerical inclusion in its title stands as more of a prequel, detailing the exploits of the Belmont who came before Simon. Not much was altered in the grand scheme of things; the titular vampire hunter still essentially slays Dracula with the help of three other playable characters, said final boss having been driven mad and more violent than ever by humanity’s slight against him. However, not only were the methods by which Dracula is defeated changed but players were given more insight into the sort of burden placed upon the Belmont family name.

When the story of Dracula’s Curse begins, protagonist Trevor Belmont isn’t revered as a legend or hero but rather a blight on larger society who the people only turn to as a last ditch effort against rising evil. The regular god-fearing people of Wallachia now fear the Belmonts and their power (it is also implied that some still feared the barbarian-esque Simon despite his legendary status) so the family is excommunicated. Trevor is forced to enlist three other outcasts—or simply two other fighters, depending on which version of the story you examine—in order to carry out the family business. Even when the rest of the world has shunned them and there are plenty of others just as capable of stopping the forces of evil, a Belmont still has a destiny to fulfil. 

Yet once a series has gone on for long enough, things within the established canon are bound to change—again and again. Whether through re-examination in order to line it up better with present day morals and sensibilities, or through good old fashioned retconning in favour of something more interesting, more thought out, or less convoluted. Other times, it’s simply because either the creator or viewers wanted it to happen. In 1997, this occurred with the release of Castlevania Legends on the GameBoy, a prequel to Dracula’s Curse that was meant to serve as the actual origin for the Belmonts, Dracula, and even his son Alucard. Instead of Trevor, the very first Belmont to fight Dracula is now his mother, Sonia Belmont, seventeen years old and already burdened with the glorious purpose of her bloodline.

Sonia is undoubtedly the protagonist of her own story with agency and drive. However, the game ends with a stark reminder of why the Belmonts have a place in the Castlevania universe. The last we see of Sonia in Legends is in the form of an epilogue where she holds her newborn child and states that one day when he’s grown, he will “be praised by all the people as a hero”. Despite her triumph over Dracula—a monumental feat itself—it seems that her purpose in the end (the purpose of most Belmonts other than to forever fight evil in fact) was to merely continue the bloodline so that descendants can carry out a promise made centuries before by another Belmont—someone that neither Simon, Trevor, Julius, or Richter ever knew.

The inevitability of sudden retcons within long-running media was not as kind to Legends as it was to Dracula’s Curse . Because of how the in-game events conflicted with subsequent entries (for example the implication that Trevor is actually the son of Alucard, thus further tying the Belmonts to Dracula through blood as well as duty), both Legends and Sonia were completely removed from the canon timeline. This is merely one reason why the next attempt at creating the definitive origin for the franchise, now a cult favourite among certain subsections of the fan community, was regarded with some animosity. However, twenty years after its release, Castlevania: Lament of Innocence is considered by many as an underrated entry. It is certainly the darker title where both the hero and villain stumble through their own hardships yet neither emerges completely victorious by the end.

The opening narration crawl of Lament of Innocence describes the lives of Leon Belmont and Mathias Cronqvist. They spend most of their lives as reflections of each other; one grows into more of a fighter while the second is coveted for his intellect and ambition. Both are valorous, honourable, and products of their own respective plights. Despite his service to the church, Leon is soon systematically stripped of everything save for the clothes on his back because he wouldn’t follow their orders blindly. While Mathias is forced to watch as an uncaring god (the very same god he serves) takes away a figure of pure virtue and love. This figure, Elisabeta Cronqvist who appears to be a splitting image of Dracula’s next deceased wife Lisa Tepes, was the last remaining tie Mathias still had to whatever bit of morality he still feels, which he eventually throws away when deciding to drag his only friend and everything he holds dear into hell alongside him.

The difference is how both men react to those personal horrors and how they let it govern their pasts, presents, and futures not just for themselves but for others who follow after the dust has supposedly settled. Two men, two best friends turned hateful enemies because of an interlinked tragedy. Not only that, but also because of their perspectives, morals, and the way they view a world that is unkind to them. Both were spurred by the death of loved ones, both used it as a conduit, or rather a catalyst for the radically opposing directions in which their choices take them and their families. Leon chooses to struggle onwards towards a world free from darkness and horror despite his pain. Mathias chooses to revel in that very same darkness and pain with a fire that would burn for aeons. In the end, one thing is absolute. A single thing the two men can agree upon as they flee down adverse paths: one of them will destroy the other.

Yet the timeline of Castlevania proves that this choice comes at a great cost for the Belmonts in particular. By the end of Lament of Innocence , Mathias has revealed himself to be the great manipulator pulling the strings behind the scenes. Due to the immense grief he felt over losing Elisabeta to a presumably common illness made untreatable because of the time period’s medical limitations (coupled with his own arrogance and narcissism), Mathias finally becomes Dracula. Dominion over death and even god by has been achieved by doing what Leon’s righteously moral mind cannot comprehend: transforming himself into an immortal creature driven by bloodlust. All he had to do was lie, cheat, and cruelly outsmart everyone else around him. That of course includes Leon as Mathias’ manipulation tactics were also the cause of the mercy killing of Sara Tarantoul, Leon’s fiance, to stop her from turning into a vampire herself. After watching his former friend escape before the sun can rise and disposing of Dracula’s constant right hand man Death, Leon finally feels his anger over such a betrayal boil over. He gives one final message to Mathias, now the new king of the vampires: “This whip and my kinsmen will destroy you someday. From this day on, the Belmont Clan will hunt the night.”

This is how Castlevania: Lament of Innocence ends. Unlike other entries like Symphony of the Night, Aria of Sorrow, or Harmony of Dissonance , there is no good, neutral, or bad ending that can be achieved if the player is aware of certain secrets and tricks. There is only one for Leon and Mathias. The inclusion of multiple endings in some Castlevania games versus a singular set ending in others may seem like a small coincidental narrative choice in conjunction with evolving gameplay, but it matters in the case of Lament of Innocence. From the moment Leon enters the castle to rescue his fiance, the wheel has already started turning and his fate is sealed. Mathias has already won and Sara, along with future Belmonts, are already doomed. And Leon’s ultimatum made in the heat of the moment would go on to have repercussions centuries later. “Hunting the night” gave the Belmonts purpose but it also burdened them with that exact purpose. While Dracula deals in curses, so does the Belmont family—a curse of duty that gets passed down throughout the bloodline.

Leon Belmont was of course never malicious or cruel like Mathias was. He never wanted to deliberately curse his family because he suffered and so should they. His choice was made out of anger and retribution. Still, it goes on to affect Simon, Sonia, Julius, and others in drastic yet different ways. Yet in the case of specific Belmonts like Trevor and Richter, we see how this family legacy can have varied consequences in far more detail through the introduction of animation and serialised writing into the Castlevania franchise.

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SOMETHING BETTER THAN A PILE OF RUINS: TREVOR BELMONT & STRENGTH FROM LEGACY

If there’s one thing that Castlevania makes abundantly clear with its four season runtime, it is that trauma does not inherently make people better or more virtuous. We of course see this from the games with Mathias and his personal crusade against god which leads to the complete dissolvement of his closest friendship. Or with Hector and the rage he feels towards his wife’s murderer, who also happens to be his former comrade under Dracula’s employment. Even Leon’s promise to both his friend, now his most despised enemy, and future descendants can also be an example of how gut reactions to pain, grief, and betrayal can have damaging consequences in the long run. This particular dissection of trauma when it affects a survivor negatively and in almost life-altering ways while still giving them a chance at achieving their own method of healing is most apparent with the animated representation of Trevor Belmont.

At its core, the first season of Castlevania airing in July of 2017 with four episodes in total is inspired by the events of Dracula’s Curse with the following seasons taking more from Curse of Darkness along with original story elements. It begins with the brutal execution of Lisa Tepes after she is falsely accused of being a witch. Shortly afterwards, Dracula declares war on all of humanity in an explosion of grief-riddled vengeance (a declaration that is not dissimilar to Mathias’ cursing of god after Elisabeta’s admittedly more natural death). Hundreds of civilians are slaughtered in the capital city Targoviste and hoards of night creatures descend upon more townships across Wallachia. 

This would be the perfect opportunity for a Belmont to stand up and fight back except there is one problem: the Belmonts have been eradicated from this world on false grounds of black magic and aiding the vampire lords instead of hunting them—much like how Lisa was slandered and paid the price with her own life.

The only Belmont left surviving is Trevor himself and his introduction does not paint him in the most optimistic or even heroic light. In the midst of being excommunicated by the church, he’s been wandering aimlessly for the past few years while languishing in whatever tavern he stumbles upon. In one particular bar Trevor finds himself in, he overhears the other patrons cursing the Belmonts and blaming them for Dracula’s siege upon humanity. He tries to stay out of it and not bring too much attention to himself until one glance at the family emblem stitched into his shirt breast is enough to ignite an all out skirmish.

Trevor hides his true identity not because he’s ashamed of it, but for his own safety and self preservation. In fact, the opinion he holds of his family is the total opposite from disdain for the sort of legacy they have saddled him with even in death. He reacts strongly to false accusations directed towards the Belmonts, angrily correcting the bar patrons by stating that his family fought monsters. However, he quickly realises he’s said too much and tries saving face by once again detaching himself from possibly being connected to the aforementioned Belmonts.

It’s only when Trevor is backed into a corner and is fresh out of snappy drunk retorts (thanks to a few hard hits to his nether regions) does he finally admit to his real lineage. As mentioned earlier, Trevor finds himself caught up in the first real brawl of the series not because of the pride he feels in himself but the immense pride he feels for his bloodline. All the while, he’s given up trying to hide what he is—a Belmont—and what he was born to do—fight fucking vampires.

Every time Trevor has the opportunity to bring up his bloodline whether in a fight or in conversation, it’s usually spoken with some bravado and weight even when he’s inebriated. However, when visiting the ruins of the Belmont ancestral home in season two and thus directly confronted with what little remains of his family legacy, Trevor loses all that previous bluster and becomes far more contemplative. He doesn’t reveal much of what it was like to actually live as a Belmont, only that it was “fine” and “no one was lonely in this house”. Even when staring up at the portrait of Leon Belmont, he says nothing and instead firmly  grips the very weapons which his ancestor must have also wielded.

It’s clear that Trevor feels no shame, bitterness, or lack of respect towards his family history despite the hardships that have come with it. Still, it’s difficult for him to truly accept the duty of being a Belmont and Trevor continually struggles with it over the course of two full seasons. Upon arriving at the ruined city of Gresit which is under constant threat of night creature attacks, Trevor doesn’t seem particularly concerned with the people’s plight or with helping them. He inquires about what’s been happening by speaking with a few local merchants but it’s only in order for him to gain a better picture of the situation that Gresit finds itself in. Otherwise, he’s simply passing through on his way to another tavern, fist fight, sleeping spot, or all three. Until he puts aside his own needs for self-protection in favour of saving an elder Speaker (a fictionalised group of nomads original to the Castlevania show who have made it their mission to help less fortunate communities and pass on their histories via oral tradition) from a potential hate crime committed by two supposed men of the cloth.

This moment acts as a representation of the first chip in Trevor’s carefully maintained armour. During the bar fight, he claimed over and over again that he was a Belmont in both skill and purpose. However, Trevor hasn’t done much to prove such a proclamation. Because of his ennui and poor coping mechanisms due to lingering trauma, he’s been all talk and not a lot of action—until this point. At first he tells himself to walk away, this sort of confrontation doesn’t concern him. Then he remembers where he comes from and uses the very same family heirloom to help someone physically weaker than himself.

Yet when he accompanies the elder back to where the other Speakers have found shelter from the monsters repeatedly demanding their heads as well as future night creature attacks, Trevor’s metaphorical walls are erected back up. He won’t take any part in this eradication of humanity whether as a victim or perpetrator and especially not to stop it. The people of Wallachia made their choice in the unjust murder of Dracula’s innocent wife, they made their choice when they decided to massacre what was left of his family, and the church made their choice when they decided to fight Dracula’s armies themselves without the Belmonts. Why should he lift a finger (or whip) to save the masses?

Despite this nihilistic attitude, Trevor proves to be a poor defeatist. He still desperately wants to protect the Speakers and warns them of an oncoming pogrom planned for them. A massive hate crime fueled by superstition and facilitated by the corrupt Bishop of Gresit which will supposedly save the city from night creature ambushes (this can be interpreted as a direct allegory meant to comment on how minority groups such as Jewish and Romani communities were used as scapegoats during the Mediaeval period). However, the Speakers refuse to budge and decide to face the angry and misled crowds head-on. They instead tell Trevor to leave in their place which, in a burst of frustration, spurs him to finally act like a member of his clan should. 

What follows next is one of the most defining moments of the series for Trevor, cementing his place as a Belmont. Another corrupt member of the church demands to know what he could possibly stand to gain from fighting back considering his downtrodden state and the fact that he’s entirely outnumbered. Trevor’s answer is simple: nothing. The Belmonts don’t protect everyday people for any great reward or because of any strong personal ties. They do it because it’s their duty and the right thing to do. Trevor even mirrors something which the elder Speaker told him; a family mantra that encompasses the very purpose of the Belmonts, dating back to Leon: “It’s not the dying that frightens us. It’s never having stood up and fought for you.”

Trevor’s healing journey does not end at this moment. He still has moments of hesitation where someone like Alucard has to forcibly remind him of his place as Belmont, saying he needs to choose whether he’s really the last of a long line of hunters or a drunkard. This leads to a fight sequence that nearly spans the length of an entire episode where Trevor further proves himself by taking on at least three different creatures all with varying degrees of strength, skill, and fortitude. Episode six of season two is the ideal example of not only Trevor’s determination but also his quick thinking. Moments such as him wrapping his cloak around his hand so that it doesn’t get cut while his sword slices through the throat of a minotaur or using a set of sticks to beat against an adversary when his whip is knocked away. Being a Belmont means using one’s intellect (no matter how unconventional it may seem) as well as one’s muscles. 

There is also another albeit less violent instance at the start of season three where he still feels the need to hide his surname while in an unfamiliar village. Then there is the revelation that malicious stories about the Belmonts and their supposed demise still circulate amongst rural Wallachian communities. Yet despite coming from a family of old killers (a term Trevor uses before facing off against Death in the final season) his family name remains his strength and the weight of both the Vampire Killer and Morningstar whip keep him grounded rather than burden him. The Belmont name carries such weight throughout the series that by the end, there is strong consideration from Alucard of naming a new township nestled in the shadow of Dracula’s castle after that family.

Trevor deals with his pain and trauma quietly, almost numbing it with the assistance of alcohol and dodging the harder questions regarding what his family was really like. He still finds strength in remembering what the Belmonts are here for despite the tribulations that come with the family name. Hardships that continue and evolve nearly three hundred years later.

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THE THINGS THAT MAKE ME WHO I AM: RICHTER BELMONT & STRENGTH FROM LOVE

Depending on what sort of mood you might find the author of this essay in, their favourite Castlevania game will vary. At the moment, it’s a three way tie between Symphony of the Night for its artistry, Lament of Innocence for its story and characterisation, and Aria of Sorrow for its evolved gameplay. However, one personal decision remains relatively consistent no matter the mood or time of day: Richter Belmont is the author’s favourite Belmont and the inclusion of him in the latest animated adaptation Castlevania: Nocturne has only cemented that fact.

It makes sense from both a narrative and marketing standpoint as to why we’ve suddenly gone from the events of Dracula’s Curse/Curse of Darkness depicted in the previous series all the way three hundred years later to Rondo of Blood . Narratively, Richter and his companion Maria Renard already have a direct link to Alucard through the events of Symphony , which Nocturne will most likely cover and be inspired by in its second season. Marketing wise while also appealing to the largest demographic possible (even those less familiar with the games), amongst more recurring characters like Dracula and Alucard, Richter is arguably one of the most recognisable Castlevania figures right down to his design.

Certain traits and visual motifs of other Belmonts have changed drastically over the years and with each iteration. Meanwhile, from Rondo and Symphony , to Harmony of Despair and the mobile game Grimoire of Souls , to finally Nocturne and the inclusion of Richter as a playable character in the fighting game Super Smash Bros Ultimate , specific elements of Richter never waver. This includes his blue colour scheme, his tousled brown hair, and his iconic white headband. All of which carry over in the first season of Nocturne which not only expands upon Richter’s character first established in Rondo of Blood but also further examines said character.

For example, Richter’s true introduction directly following the downer cold opening is without a doubt the farest cry from Trevor’s. While Trevor’s first scene acted as a sobering depiction of what happens when physically/mentally damaging coping mechanisms mix with unacknowledged grief, Richter’s first fight gets the audience’s blood pumping, complete with a triumphant musical score and a showcase of his skill with the Vampire Killer. Richter is cocky, but not reckless. He’s sarcastic, but not sullen like Trevor was. Because of his upbringing after the death of his mother, filled with positive affirmations, he values the wellbeing of others along with their fighting experience. Yet his confidence does not overshadow his acknowledgement of the family burden. Richter is well aware of how heavy the Belmont legacy and duty can weigh upon an individual’s shoulders along with how closely it can tie itself around a person’s life and their death—a reminder as well as memory which haunts him for nine years.

When Nocturne begins, its first major fight sequence takes place between Richter’s mother Julia Belmont (an original character for the show) and the vampire Olrox, an enemy taken from Symphony of the Night now reimagined as a seductive, complex Indigenous vampire on his own path towards vengeance against the very person who took away the one he loved most in this world—just one of many thematic parallels to the first series, this time referencing Dracula’s motives and justification for his grief. Just when it seems like Julia has the upper hand thanks to her magical prowess, Olrox transforms and ends her life in a swift yet brutal manner. All of which happens right before ten-year-old Richter’s eyes.

Julia was simply doing her duty as a vampire hunter and her life as a Belmont ended the same as most of her ancestors did: in battle while fighting for the life of another. Why then did it hurt Richter most of all? Why does it haunt him well into his early adult years? And why was it seemingly more so than how Trevor’s trauma haunted him? There are two probable answers to this, one being that Richter was only a child, directly confronted by the cause for his mother’s sudden and graphic death with no way of fighting back despite being a Belmont.

In the case of Trevor, although he was a few years older than Richter when his entire family and ancestral home were burned in front of his eyes presumably by the same people they were supposed to be defending, the circumstances which followed them afterwards are vastly different. For nine years Richter was surrounded by those who loved and cared for him whereas Trevor only had himself and the hoards of average Wallachians who hated him because of superstitious rumours and the church’s condemnation. Trevor had over a decade’s worth of experience in becoming desensitised to his pain and trauma, masking it beneath self deprecation and numbing it with alcohol. He wasn’t even aware of the fact that he was a deeply sad and lonely individual until Sypha pointed it out to him.

Despite his bravado and brighter personality than his ancestor, Richter is also an incredibly sad, hurt person who suffers somewhat from tunnel vision. He obviously has empathy and wants to protect people from monsters, vampires, and the like. More so than Trevor did during his introduction before his moment of self-made rehabilitation. However, he doesn’t seem to care much about the revolution itself or what it stands for. He attends Maria’s rally meetings but he doesn’t take active part in them, opting to stay back and keep a watch out for any vampire ambushes. He admits that he doesn’t really listen to Maria’s speeches about liberty, equality, and fraternity. And in the most prominent example of his disillusionment with fighting for a larger righteous cause, when given a revolutionary’s headband, he shoves it into his pocket and mumbles about how tired he is of everything.

This could be interpreted as defeatist if Richter wasn’t already trying so hard to uphold his family duty and maintain a level head. He needs to have a sense of control and almost achieves it until Olrox so casually confronts him in the middle of a battle which Richter and his friends seemed to be winning until they’re forced to flee close behind him. When Richter runs away and emotionally breaks down the moment he’s finally alone, it isn’t because he’s weak or cowardly. On a surface level, it was due to his fear and panic over not being able to face his mother’s killer (someone who has proven to be much, much stronger and more powerful than any Belmont). Yet it was also a form of harsh admission to himself. He couldn’t maintain that aforementioned sense of control and perhaps he never will, not where he is right now at least.

It isn’t until he’s reunited with his grandfather Juste Belmont (long thought to have died, leaving Richter as the final Belmont) that this negative mindset brought on by unresolved trauma begins to shift. In many ways, Juste is another callback to what happened with Trevor. He suffered an immense tragedy in the past and has since spent his entire life drifting from tavern to tavern, avoiding his own grandson and instead leaving him in the care of people far more capable of raising him and instilling better morals within the youngest Belmont.

Other mentor-esque characters appear in Nocturne such as Tera who raised Richter alongside her biological daughter Maria. There is also Cecile, the leader of a Maroon group which Annette joins after escaping slavery. Despite their individual pains, these two women maintain the hope that humanity can be changed and the evils of the world can be defeated. Meanwhile, Juste has thoroughly lost his own hope. He reveals to Richter that “evil will always win” because of how it permeates everything and is far stronger than any Belmont, even the most magically inclined members. No matter how many Draculas, Carmillas, or Lord Ruthvens are defeated, it will always find a way to creep back to the surface whether through the upper class of France or through the very colonisation that nearly wiped out Olrox’s people or enslaved Annette’s family. 

One of the first things that Juste says to Richter directly references the sheer weight of the Belmont legacy, all of which culminates within the whip itself. This can also be a reference to the Vampire Killer carrying a living soul as Leon Belmont was only able to awaken its true power by sacrificing Sara Tarantoul. The whip has both a metaphorical and literal weight which the Belmonts must come to terms with.

Yet for Richter, family is maintained not through blood ties, which can easily die out or be abandoned because of generational trauma, but through the people we find and attach ourselves to. Under the immediate threat of losing his found family, all of Richter’s pain and anguish explodes when his magical powers violently return to him in one of the most visually impressive and cathartic moments of Nocturne season one, complete with an orchestral and operatic rendition of “Divine Bloodlines” taken straight from Rondo of Blood as he ties the same headband he nearly discarded earlier around his head. Then once the dust settles and Richter is asked by Juste how he managed to tap back into that great power, he simply responds with the most obvious answer he can come up with: there are people who love him and he loves them in return. 

This is reiterated when Richter is reunited with Annette and describes the same revelation when she asks how he was able to regain his magic. Not just a mental revelation but for Richter, it was a physical sensation as well. Just when he believed he had lost everything, something reminded him of all the things worth protecting in his life and all the pain he’s had to endure.

Richter finally donning his iconic white headband is symbolic of not only his decision to actively join the French Revolution but also his revelation that the love he feels for Maria, Annette, and Tera is his own righteous cause. That, to him, is worth defending just as much if not more than the concept of a centuries old curse turned legacy.

—

SLAVES TO OUR FAMILIES' WISHES: CONCLUSION

Richter, both his game depiction and his recent Nocturne iteration, acts as a reflection and subversion of what a Belmont is along with what that family duty means to different members. Trevor found healing from his trauma through his duty. Richter found his healing through love. Of course Trevor loved Sypha and Alucard in his own way, but throughout the entire first series, from the moment he removed his cloak at the end of season one to standing up against Death in the finale, his driving motivation was always to preserve his family’s legacy despite his own shortcomings. The Belmonts were all but gone and Trevor had been exiled, excommunicated, and turned into a societal pariah. Had he given into despair and continued with his vagabond ways, who else would wield the Morningstar, the Vampire Killer, or any of the knowledge cultivated by previous Belmont generations?

But for Richter, family legacy is more of a nebulous concept. It gets mentioned in conversations and we see its varying effects on individuals, but even when Richter is reunited with Juste, the immediate priorities of his found family takes the place of his blood family. This, according to him, makes him a Belmont. 

It is also important to consider that we are still only on the first season of Castlevania: Nocturne with season two having been renewed and in production merely a week after its initial premiere. With the reveal of Alucard as a last minute cliffhanger in the penultimate episode, it will be interesting to see how his own characterisation as well as his close tie with both the Belmonts and his own family burden will further develop especially after three hundred years within the show’s timeline. One of the biggest possibilities is that in contrast with his youthful brashness and instability that was the crux of his character in the first series, Alucard might serve as a sort of mentor figure or perhaps his own generational pain will bond him further to Richter and Maria, more so than he was in Symphony of the Night . Then there is the question of whether Richter in the midst of the apparent losses he suffered during the finale of season one will follow down the same path that his video game counterpart did.

In 2020, the author wrote another Castlevania -centric essay which detailed the visual, thematic, and aesthetical shifts of the franchise from its inception during the 1980s all the way to the 2017 adaptation through focusing on how these changes affected Alucard. By the end of that essay, it was mentioned that despite the show being renewed for at least one more season, the overall future of Castlevania remained unknown. This is still the case for now. 

Though one can make educated assumptions and theories, there’s no way of knowing what sort of direction season two of Nocturne will take with its themes and characters. This is doubly true for the games themselves. Despite the anticipated releases of the Silent HIll 2 and Metal Gear Solid Delta: Snake Eater remakes, as of now Konami has not revealed any official decisions to remake, rerelease, or produce new Castlevania titles. One can hope that due to the success of both shows along with the anticipation for Silent Hill and Metal Gear Solid remakes that something new will be in store for Castlevania in the near future.

Castlevania , both its games and animation adaptations, prove that there is a place in this world for every kind of story. In the last episode of season one airing in July 2017, Alucard states what could very well be the thesis of the entire franchise: “We are all, in the end, slaves to our families’ wishes”. Yet even if we cannot escape the narrative we’ve been latched onto or, for dramatic purposes, cursed with, there are ways in which we can combat it and forge our own healing process.

—

MEDIA REFERENCED

Castlevania (1986)

Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest (1987)

Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse (1989)

Castlevania: Rondo of Blood (1993)

Castlevania Legends (1997)

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (1997)

Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow (2003)

Castlevania: Lament of Innocence (2003)

Castlevania: Curse of Darkness (2005)

Castlevania: Lords of Shadow (2011)

Castlevania (2017—2021)

Castlevania: Nocturne (2023—)

[alchemistc]

goon | bucktommy | chapter three

check out the hockey glossary here (updated for chapter two)

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two

read Chapter Three on ao3

Tommy's got a plan for the break. It's the same plan as he has every year: spend six days losing every bit of conditioning he's managed to gain over the course of the season by slowly becoming one with his couch, catch up on all the shitty shows he's been neglecting, eat his weight in potato chips and ice cream. Then he'll have one day before practice starts up again where he does weight training so long he wants to throw up, and back to the grind. The usual.

He gets the text as he's rebuilding his nest on the couch, three quarters of the way through day three, and for a long long moment he considers ignoring it.

His phone vibrates on the table again, and Tommy stares apologetically at the movie already queued up to play.

Drinks at Rare Bird tonight. says the text from Chimney, and then, below it, See you at eight. Love Actually can wait

Not a question mark to be found, and he's about to point that out when another text comes in, this time from Ravi.

You have to come tonight

No additional context, again. He's - not exactly unfamiliar with becoming the anchor for an anxious kid trying to find his place - a little mentorship, a little wing-manning, a lot like the guy who'll sit there and just be steady and quiet when someone is overwhelmed and needs a focus point. Panikkar is calm on the surface and an absolute nightmare right under it, a stunning swan with little webbed feet kicking up a storm underneath where all his vulnerabilities are laid bare. Tommy's used to cracking a terrible joke just to force someone so breathless with laughter they forget they'd been holding it, and he's used to that person immediately finding themselves at ease around him.

He has no fucking clue how the front office had known to look for someone to fill that role on the team, but it's become very clear over the course of the last month or so that this in one of the hand-wavey intangibles he's been brought in for.

And Greenway getting traded two days before the All-Star break had fundamentally changed something in the locker room.

There’s always a clique situation in a league like this — D-Pairs like Buckley and Diaz spending so much time together they have their own language that’s incomprehensible to anyone who hasn’t known them as long as they’ve known each other; stars like McKinley and all the guys he’s convinced the front office to sign because he can make them fit the play style they’re going for; the group of guys that jump between third and fourth lines with their heads on a swivel for the first opportunity to take a stab at more minutes; the boys living in their buddies basement apartment and the ones who own a McMansion somewhere in a gated community half an hour away from the rink.

Greenway had made the cliques circle in, shore up for the storm. And Tommy’s an easy-going guy, gets along well with everyone, but — something had lifted, the day they got the news, some tension easing, the groups getting a little less exclusive even just in the single game they’d played after he was gone. There’s no one for Tommy to say “I told you so” to, but he’d patted himself on the back for knowing it, anyway.

Tommy's trying to convince himself not to cave to Ravi and Chim when another text comes in, this one from Diaz.

We're taking bets on which turn Buck's gonna eat shit on this year, you in?

Christ, they live eat and breathe the game.

Tommy's not any better.

Twenty bucks says he beefs it on the third turn, Tommy sends back, before turning off the television and heading towards the shower.

---

There’s a certain artistry to meeting up for drinks with teammates. The dynamics of running into fans has changed, over the years. The social media boom had made it a nightmare for a few years, and Tommy’d spent about five of them walking and talking the faces of the league through panic attacks and generalized anxiety like he was a damn therapist, before he’d discovered that just telling them to go to fucking therapy was enough.

He’d seen a switch after finally escaping the Edmonton bubble, in a world that had spent eight months dialed in to social issues and gained a startling awareness of personal space, so it was a little easier, now, to roll into a bar and meet up with three or four guys without crowds of people demanding selfies. Tommy wasn’t likely to be on anyone’s radar, but he tended to be noticed out in public when he was out with everyone’s favorite.

Today he rolls up with Eddie Diaz in the passenger seat of his truck and hands his keys to the valet. The kid is still sporting a face full of acne, a foot shorter than Tommy and eyeing Diaz curiously as he swivels out of his seat, and Tommy has a moment where he’s sure the kid is gonna forget himself and gush about everyone’s second-favorite d-man in this town, but when his eyes go wide his gaze flicks from Diaz back to Tommy, and Tommy feels completely out of his depth.

“I — sorry, this is so rude, dude, but — you’re my sisters favorite player, man. She’s like, obsessed with you.”

Tommy’s brows go up, and he can feel Eddie’s eyes on the back of his neck as he points at his own chest. “Me?”

“Yeah, man — I mean she sorta hated you when you were with the Kings, but in a weird, like, ero —.” He pauses, and Tommy is grateful for the both of them. “Anyway. She was super excited when we signed you. We were at the St. Louis game. Fucking epic, man.”

Tommy — flounders. It’s been years since he’s gotten anything more than a look of recognition and a glance behind him to see if anyone else has tagged along with him. When Diaz rounds the hood of the truck and smacks a hand firmly down on Tommy’s shoulder, the kid smiles and redirects his gaze straight to Tommy. Which is weird as fuck. What the hell is in the water in this state?

“Thanks,” Tommy says, and Eddie grins charmingly at the kid.

“That’s Kinard, for you. Fuckin’ epic.”

The kid does something complicated with his face, like he’s realized some sort of gaffe, and turns an apologetic look on Eddie. “You’re also, like — I mean you’re great, Mr. Diaz.”

Tommy can’t hide the snort that escapes when Diaz’s face twitches, like he’s trying his very hardest not to react to the name. The kid looks like he’d like the ground to open him up and swallow him whole, so Tommy reaches into his back pocket, pulls a twenty from his wallet, and slaps it in the kids hand before he can say anything else. “Just in case your shift ends before we’re back,” he says, when the kid opens his mouth like he’s going to protest, and Tommy makes a mental note to ask the manager for his name, maybe send the kid a couple tickets to their next home game. Not that the seats need filling, in Denver, but — yeah, he’s a little flattered and it’s always fun to make someone’s day with shit like that.

Tommy shoots the kid finger guns as they say their goodbyes, about half to make the kid feel less self-conscious and half because he’s never been able to break the habit when he’s feeling a little overwhelmed himself. “Tell your sister I said hi,” Tommy says, and it’s Eddie’s turn to snort as they swing through the doors in search of the rest of their party.

---

Ravi’s hands go up the moment he spots them being led through the crowd by the hostess, and he does a celebratory little dance in his seat before he seems to realize his fingers are covered in nacho cheese. Chimney rolls his eyes from Ravi’s left as he reaches for one of the linen napkins on the table, and the woman sitting next to Chimney smiles.

He’d forgotten Chimney was engaged. The last time he’d spent any length of time with Chim, he’d been seeing a girl who didn’t know a single true thing about him.

She’s pretty — long dark hair and deep brown eyes, a quirk to her lips as she smiles at him that feels vaguely familiar, though he can’t quite place it. When he leans in to shake her hand, she introduces herself as Maddie Buckley.

Which he’d known, in the abstract. Of course he’d known, he’s heard Chim and Buck chirping at each other good naturedly for weeks now, really leaning into the idea that they’re soon to be brothers.

She tilts her head to the side, eyes on him as he settles in next to Ravi, Eddie pulling out the chair to his left, and Tommy recognizes that mannerism too — sitting in the locker room after optionals, Buckley already done with his after-practice workout and parked on the bench a few feet away from Tommy (who’d spent the same half hour on the ice taking passes on the move, trying like hell to find a rhythm that could help him keep up with Panikkar) plying him for stories about the year he’d played for the Hershey Bears.

They’re well situated to watch the skills competition, tucked into a corner with a television hanging overhead in every direction, all of them tuned into the pre-show, and as a server comes by to grab their drink orders Tommy stares around the table at the piles and piles of starters laid out and covering most of the available surface area. Chimney clocks his raised brow.

“Listen, there are only so many times a year I’m not under constant threat of death and dismemberment from my future brother-in-law if I so much as think of junk food. Ravi and I are going to enjoy this while we can.”

Maddie tsks. “He’s not that bad,” she intones, although she’s smiling like she’s conjuring a fond memory of her brother being an absolute terror. And it’s not that he hasn’t heard these stories before — Buckley’s sort of renowned for the health-nut thing around the league — but Tommy had also downed three cream cheese pastries with his coffee on the walk back to their hotel rooms, back in Utah, and Buckley hadn’t said a word.

“It’s the silent judging that really gets to you,” Eddie throws in, head tilted up towards one of the TV’s, where they’re showing highlights from the last few All Star competitions.

“He’s never silently judged me in his life,” Ravi contradicts, digging deep into the nachos in search of the strip of chicken buried under the pile. “He’s very loud about it. Whoever gave that man an iPad and Karen Wilson’s spreadsheets should be drawn and quartered.”

“Oooh, are we talking shit about Buckley?” comes a voice from his left, and Lucy Donato sneaks past him to snag a chip from Ravi’s plate.

Donato is technically the most decorated athlete of the lot of them — three golds and a bronze in women’s hockey, Tommy doesn’t have a fucking clue why she’s been an equipment manager for the team for going on four years now but the team loves her, and she seems to enjoy the work. Maybe it’s the roar of the crowd, maybe it’s the camaraderie, maybe the fact that she’d grown up with four brothers factors into it and she’s just happy to have that lovingly antagonistic relationship with the boys again.

“Is this is a safe space to remind everyone that it is not my fault Taylor Kelly wrote that tell-all article for the Athletic?”

At Tommy’s side, Eddie makes a face. “We don’t have to talk about her.”

He’s used to being a little out of the loop, when it comes to the intricacies of team dynamics — every team has groupings of people who live in each others pockets for eight to ten months out of the year, and know a little too much about one another. Tommy’s used to being a witness to it from the outside, to being the aloof mysterious one someone is always bound and determined to crack.

“We could talk about Marisol, if you want,” Lucy says, licking cheese off her finger as she settles into the seat to Ravi’s right, and Eddie shoots her a warning look. “How about Kim?”

“Okay,” Chim interrupts when Eddie opens his mouth to retort. “Hen’s late, but we are still taking bets. Tommy’s got the third turn, my lovely future wife and Eddie are both naïve optimists who think he’s going to learn from last years embarrassment and make it all the way to the end without letting the pressure get to him, I’m going first turn when he tries to build momentum. Ravi, Donato?”

Tommy lets the conversation wash over him. When his drink comes, he doesn’t even get a chance to sip at it before Donato is leaning over the table to steal his spear of cherries. Hen gives the bar-food laden table a raised brow when she arrives with her wife and jumps right into giving Panikkar shit about the condo he’s trying to purchase in one of the nearly-gentrified neighborhoods downtown. When the pre-show ends fifteen minutes later they all turn their attention to the televisions overhead, and Tommy sips at his Old Fashioned, wishing he’d ordered a beer instead.

There’s an element to nights like these that always make Tommy a little wistful. There’s so much history between them all, so much love. Tommy’s not lacking for friends, but he’s never really been a part of something like this. Like family.

When the server comes around to check in about another round, Tommy asks for the beer menu and orders himself an IPA. Anything to keep him from getting too loose-lipped as they cheer on Buckley and McKinley in their skills events.

Buckley eats shit around the third turn in the speed skate, and in his pocket Tommy’s phone buzzes with Venmo notifications as rest of the table grumbles and pays up.

He’s halfway through his second beer, two rounds into the precision shot competition, when Donato rounds on him.

“So. Kinard.”

“Donato.”

Her gaze is assessing, like she’s trying to pin him down, and Tommy has played this game for too many years to do anything but take a steady sip of his beer. “Thoughts on upcoming theme nights?”

Tommy doesn’t particularly pay attention to those. After the shitstorm of the commissioner banning Pride gear, confirming to Tommy that he’d been right, all those years ago, to lean into the toxicity, he’d stopped caring what sweater the equipment team left in his locker for warmups and just tried his best to keep his head down. He spends a long moment holding eye contact, unsure what exactly the line of questioning is about, before Eddie chimes in on his left.

“You do this every time,” he says, finger out, head tipped warningly, and Lucy shrugs, arms up in a gesture of surrender.

“Just trying to take the pulse of things, Jesus. I’m the one that has to deal with it if one of you fucknuts gets too enthusiastic and tapes his stick up in rainbow colors and he throws a tantrum about it.”

Hen and Karen both swivel their eyes to meet his, and the table goes uncomfortably still. He’d been leaning into the misogyny, the last time he’d played for a team Hen worked for, and he’s still not sure if she’d ever noticed how lackluster the comments had been, how close he’d been to finally breaking free of a truly mindbogglingly shitty coaching staff. They’d ended on friendly terms, but other than a few polite questions about her wife, they’ve never really talked about any of that.

Maddie, shockingly, is the one who breaks through the tension. “You went to the Pride parade in Nashville last summer, didn’t you? Buck always makes a note of the guys that do.”

He’d been terrified out of his fucking mind that someone would come to the outlandish (correct) conclusion that he was there as more than an ally, but Tommy didn’t shit where he ate, and Josi drew plenty more attention than he did, anyway.

Tommy nods. “I can tape my own stick and everything,” he says to Donato, brow raised, and she just nods back, apparently satisfied. It’s a relief, even if Karen Wilson has a curious eye on the finger he’s been nervously tapping against his beer since the original question had been posed. He keeps up the tapping for a few more beats.

“Always good to have another ally in the mix,” Hen says, doing something under the table that makes Karen glance away, and Tommy shifts the nerves into pressing his heel firmly into the floor beneath him. He feels like they’re all talking in riddles, trying to piece him together with faulty information, and for a moment, in this little bubble with people who seem to genuinely care for each other, he thinks it’d be easy to just let the cat out of the bag, say the words he’s had on the tip of his tongue for a decade, and in his heart for at least three.

Beside him, Eddie takes another pull off his beer, leans in to Tommy’s side. “Come watch the game at my place tomorrow? Just me and Chris, the rest of these idiots are doing brunch before coaches shindig.”

Tommy sort of desperately wants to tell him that he has a date with his television that he’s already skipped once, but — well, he likes Eddie, and it’d be nice to finally meet his kid. “Will Christopher snitch on us if I bring pizza?”

Eddie grins. “He absolutely will, but Buck’s wrath isn’t enough to stop me. Is it enough to stop you?”

Possibly, Tommy thinks, but instead of admitting that he just asks Eddie to text him his son’s toppings preferences.

---

On the bedside table, his phone lights up, and Tommy turns to grab it, keying in his passcode and frowning at the name on his notifications.

He swipes into his messages and stares at the text for a long, long minute.

Tommy’s never actually come out to anyone in his life. Never said the words, never had them asked — but there are a few people that have figured it out on their own, a few people who have done the work of supporting him while keeping it under wraps.

Sid’s sent him a picture. Not the usual one where it’s mostly his ass in a mirror followed by the number of squats he’s been doing daily. This is a terrible quality photo, shitty lighting in a dark bar, half the screen taken over by a hairy arm because of the angle the camera is tipped at. It’s four in the morning in Tampa, and Sidney motherfucking Crosby has just sent him a selfie of himself with his arm tossed over Evan Buckley’s shoulders.

Both of them are grinning, faces cast in shadow, eyes towards the camera, and Tommy taps into the picture so he can zoom in, stare at the smile lines around his eyes, the edges of a grin — Sid’s smug look like he knows exactly what Tommy had been thinking when he’d asked him to reach out to Buck.

He stares at it until another text comes in.

You should reconsider how off-limits this one is, he won’t shut up about you. Your name has lost all meaning to me.

Tommy swallows. Breathes through his nose, in-out-in-out. Slides his gaze back to the wide smile and rosy cheeks of Evan Buckley, one more time.

Go to bed, old man, he shoots back and closes out the thread.

He stares at the background on his phone: the crest of the hiking trail he’d found, two weeks ago, on a recommendation from Diaz, which he’d hit right at sunset, pinks and oranges and purples bleeding in to the chilly grey-blue sky.

His phone buzzes with another notification, this time from Buck. Tommy considers ignoring it, letting it sit unread at the very least until the morning. His phone buzzes a second time, and then a third.

The first is another picture — better angle, better lighting, better quality in general, exact same pose, including Sid’s knowing eyebrow and the soft sparkle of Buck’s eyes.

You can fly a helicopter? the first text reads, and then, all caps, YOU FLEW CROSBY IN A HELICOPTER ONCE????

Like an idiot, Tommy taps into the picture, presses down, saves it to his phone, and flips back into the thread just in time for another text.

You bet on me falling :(

You WON on me falling :( :(

He should absolutely put his phone down and go the fuck to sleep, but on the off chance that Buckley is stlll hanging out with Crosby, he doesn’t want to ignore Buck. That’d just be rude.

Used the winnings to buy a kid and his sister a suite for the next home game, he shoots back, and ignores the little thrill that shoots down his spine when three dots immediately appear right beneath his text.

That’s annoyingly sweet

Tommy breathes deep. Four-o-nine AM in Tampa. They’ve got a game that starts in less than twelve hours, there. He sends back: Selfish. The sister is apparently my biggest fan.

I’M your biggest fan, comes the text, followed by typing dots. They disappear, then reappear, then disappear again. Tommy doesn’t mean to time it, but thirty seven seconds later they appear again.

Let me know where they’re sitting. I’ll have someone send them your sweater.

then

You wanna sign it first?

Tommy takes a deep breath, and presses the call button.

[isabelawritesthings]

The Lost Potential of Quinn Fabray's Sexuality on Glee: An analysis

(I personally don't know if people still talk about Glee in 2024 considering the fact that this series ended more than eight years ago but watching it for the first time and reading some posts here on Tumblr I was intrigued by the lack of exploration of Quinn's sexuality in Glee, and I decided to do an analysis about this lost potential and what I would change in her story.)

When it comes to saying that Quinn could very well be a lesbian or even bisexual, many argue that Quinn is the most straight character in the entire glee club, the highly Christian "Miss Perfect" who ended up getting pregnant by her boyfriend's best friend and cheating on every guy she dated, but saying that she is romantically and sexually active with men doesn't mean that she is totally straight (I mean, Santana dated Puck, Sam and slept with Finn, yet came out as a lesbian in season three) Brittany was also a fan of sex with men but ended up marrying a woman, and it's not as if many lesbians and gays in real life hadn't dated someone of the opposite sex before discovering their sexual and romantic orientation.

Santana: I think I know how to make you feel better.

Quinn: I'm flattered Santana, but I'm really not into that.

Glee, 2x22 (New York)

Quinn says she's not "into that", however, doesn't mind sleeping with Santana two seasons later, even claiming she was just "experimenting".

We can't forget the relationship she had with Rachel, which was quite queer coded. It would be funny to see the girl who has dated several boys end up with a girl. "But the show already has too much representation with Brittana and Klaine" Hmm, and since when has too much representation been a problem? The LGBTQ community spent years being seen as invisible in series and films, a study in 2009, the same year Glee was released, revealed that only 3% of television series at that time had gay, lesbian or bisexual representation, and even though our situation is better than it was twenty years ago, for example, let's not forget that we are technically criminals in 73 countries. Take the She-Ra reboot for example, which has two sapphic couples with their own stories, too much representation will never be an issue.

What Quinn needed was a female writer, so that the whole story of wanting to be with Beth but not being able to or deciding to become a punk in season 3 could be explored more and not forgotten in the middle of romantic songs and Rachel Berry's exaggerated protagonism (even though Glee is limited to that lol). I don't think I'll ever forgive Ryan Murphy and Lea Michelle for being so arrogant and fighting with Dianna Agron to the point where Quinn was practically replaced by Kitty (I swear, I watched Glee at least two times but I can't remember any scene from season five where Quinn appeared) She appears in the sixth season because it is the last one and it would be fair for the original formation of the glee club to appear (if it weren't for that, Ryan would probably invent that Quinn went to live in another country or simply forget about her).

Quinn's story pretty much ends in season four, after which she barely appears.

What I would change

In the third season, instead of her becoming a punk, why not have her just come out of the closet? Quinn may be confused in the beginning because she's never felt this way about girls before and is paying "too much attention" to the other cheerios and may even ask Santana for advice on how to deal with these feelings, since Santana herself comes out as a lesbian in the same season. She could be lesbian, bisexual, pansexual or she doesn't even need labels, she could just like girls.

I would still keep that drama involving Beth because Quinn clearly didn't give her up for adoption because she wanted to, just because she had no choice, but maybe a girlfriend would make her see that Beth is better off with Shelby. The girlfriend could be a girl from the Cheerios, since Quinn has always considered them family, maybe a sweet and slightly naive girl like Marley to give more "light" to the cold and provocative Quinn Fabray.

In the fourth, fifth and sixth season I would explore more of the romance between the two and even perhaps some religious guilt on Quinn's part (let's not forget that she is supposed to be highly Christian) and at the end of the series she and this girlfriend can get married like Brittana and even adopt a child, I know that one child does not replace another, but here at least Quinn will maintain her desire to be a mother.

[lousypotatoes]

I Want Your Whiskey Mouth

"I want you to love me

Like I'm a hot ride

Be thinking of me

Doing what you like~"

Only Girl (In The World) - Rihanna

Previous Next

"Yo! We're coming at you live from Camp Wawanawka, somewhere in Muskoka, Ontario." said a black-haired man, smiling into the camera.

"I'm your host, Chris McLean, dropping season one of the hottest new reality show on television right now!"

"Here's the deal," Chris said, walking across the dock. "Twenty-three campers have signed up to spend eight weeks right here at this crummy old summer camp. They'll compete in challenges against each other, then have to face the judgement of their fellow campers."

"Every three days, one team will either win a reward or watch one of their team members walk down the Dock of Shame, take a ride on the Loser Boat," Chris laughed. "And leave Total Drama Island for good."

The camera panned away to a campfire looking setting.

"Their fate will be decided here, at the dramatic campfire ceremonies, where each week, all but one camper will receive a marshmallow," Chris explained, eating one of the marshmallows. "In the end, only one will be left standing, and will be rewarded with cheesy tabloid fame and a small fortune, which let's face it, they'll probably blow in a week."

"To survive, they'll have to battle black flies, grizzly bears, disgusting camp food, and each other." Chris smirked. "Every moment will be caught on one of the hundreds of cameras situated all over the camp."

"Who will crumble under the pressure? Find out here, right now on Total Drama Island!"

Dear Mom and Dad, I'm doing fine

You guys are on my mind

You asked me what I wanted to be

And now I think the answer is plain to see

I wanna be famous

I wanna live close to the sun

Well pack your bags, 'cause I've already won

Nothing to do, nothing in my way

I'll get there one day

'Cause I wanna be famous

Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous~

The camera pans to Chris, still standing on the dock.

"Welcome back to Total Drama Island! All right, it's time to meet our first eleven campers. We told them they'd all be staying at this five-star resort, so if they seem a little t-owed, that's probably why."

The camera panned over to a short girl with her brown hair in a braid, with glasses and braces.

"Beth, what's up?" Chris asked.

Beth ran and gave Chris a hug.

"It's so incredulous to meet you!" Beth exclaimed, getting off of Chris. "Wow, you're much shorter in real life."

"Uh, thanks," Chris said as Beth waved to the camera.

Another boat pulls up to the dock.

"DJ!" Chris called out.

A dark-skinned, muscular guy steps of the boat. He's wearing gray shorts, and a tight green shirt that really shows off his muscles.

"Yo! Chris McLain!" DJ said, high fiving Chris. "How's it going? Hey, you sure you got the right place here? Where's the hot tub at?"

"Yo dawg! This is it! Camp Wawanawkwa!" Chris smiled.

DJ frowned and picked up his bags, walking to the other end of the dock.

"Hm. Looked a lot different on the application form." he said.

"Hey Gwen!" Chris calls.

A pale skinned girl steps off the next boat. Her hair is dyed blue and black, and she's wearing a blue, green, and black corset/shirt, and blue and black shirt, black tights, and black boots.

She does not look happy.

"You mean we're staying here?" Gwen asked snarkily, looking around.

"No, you're staying here," Chris smiled. "My crib is an airstream with AC, that way." he pointed in the opposite direction.

"I did not sign up for this." Gwen angrily said.

"Actually, you did," Chris said, pulling out some paperwork.

Gwen pulled the forms out of Chris' hands and ripped them up and threw them in the lake.

"The great thing about lawyers is, they make lots of copies." Chris smiled, pulling out some more paperwork.

"I am not staying here." Gwen said, picking up her bags.

"Cool, I hope you can swim, though," Chris said. "Because you ride just left."

"Asshole!" Gwen spat.

The next guy to arrive is wearing a pink unbuttoned shirt that shows off his abs, jean shorts, and a large cowboy hat.

"Chris McLain!" the guy said, after doing a literal flip off the boat. "Sup man! It's an honor to meet you man!"

"The Geoffster!" Chris fist bumped him. "Welcome to the island man."

"Thanks man."

"If they say man one more time, I'm gonna puke," Gwen said.

"Everybody," Chris said. "This is Lindsay,"

The girl he was talking about had straight blonde hair, and was wearing a red and orange crop top, an orange miniskirt, brown boots, and a blue bandana.

"Not too shabby," Chris muttered to the camera.

"Hi!" Lindsay said. "Okay, you look so familiar."

"I'm Chris McLain," Chris explained.

Lindsay had a confused look on her face.

"The host of the show?"

"Oh, that's where I know you from," Lindsay smiled.

"Uh, yeah."

The next camper to arrive has long black hair, and is wearing a red crop top, green shorts, and aviator sunglasses.

She takes off the sunglasses and looks around, a look of disgust on her face.

"Heather," Chris says, as she walks right past him.

"Hi!" Beth says, running up to Heather. "Looks like we're your new friends for the next eight weeks!" she says, spitting all over a disgusted Heather.

The next boat to arrive is playing rock music. The guy to get off the boat has a green mohawk, piercings everywhere, a black skull shirt, jean shirts, and a spiked collar.

"Duncan, dude," Chris says.

"I don't like surprises," Duncan said, raising his fist.

"Yeah, your parole officer warned me about that man," Chris said. "Also told me to give him a holler anytime and have you returned to juvie."

"Okay then," Duncan said, walking off.

"Meet you by the campfire, gorgeous."

"Drop dead, you skeeze," Heather says is disgust. "I'm calling my parents. You cannot make me stay here."

Chris smiled and pulled out a copy of paperwork.

The next contestant to arrive was water skiing, the rods attached to the boat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Tyler!" Chris exclaimed.

Tyler had brown hair and was wearing a red tracksuit with a matching red sweatband.

As soon as Chris stopped talking, the ski's fell from under Tyler and he flipped into the air before slamming down onto the dock, right into the pile of everyone's luggage.

One of the suitcases, fell into the water, creating a wave that splashed onto Heather.

"Ugh! My shoes!" Heather groaned.

"Wicked wipeout man!" Chris yelled.

Tyler only gave a thumbs up in response.

Chris snickers, before jumping as a loud exhale rings out.

"Welcome to camp, Harold," Chris says.

Harold looks scrawny, has ginger hair, glasses, and is wearing a blue shirt and green pants, while holding an electric keyboard.

The typical Napolean Dynamight type look.

Harold looked around, not saying a word.

"What's he looking at?" Beth asked.

DJ shrugged.

"So, you mean this show is at a crappy summer camp and not on some big stage or something?" Harold asked.

"You got it!" Chris said.

"Yes!" Harold exclaimed. "That is so much more favorable to my skills." he said, walking off.

Chris cringed as the next contestant arrived.

"Contestant number nine is Trent." Chris said, gesturing to Trent.

Trent has a black mullet and is wearing a green shirt with a green camouflage handprint, and black trousers, while carrying a guitar.

"Hey, good to meet you man," Trent smiles. "Saw you on that figure skating show. Nice work."

"Thanks man." Chris fist bumped him. "I knew I rocked that show!"

"I saw that!" Beth said, raising her hand. "One of the guys dropped his partner on her head. So, they got immunity that week."

"Lucky," Harold said. "I hope I get dropped on my head."

"Me too!" Lindsay said.

Trent looked around. "So this is it?" he asked.

The camera panned over to Heather squeezing the water out of her hair and Harold picking his nose.

"All righty then," Trent said, concern etched on his face.

Trent walked off and stood next to Gwen. He smiled at her, but she turned away, a scowl on her face. When Trent looked away though, Gwen had a small smile on her face.

The next contestant had her blonde hair in a ponytail, was wearing a blue hoodie, short jeans, and holding a surfboard.

"Hey, what's up?" the girl says as she gets off the boat, leaning on her surfboard.

"All right, our surfer chick Bridgette is here." Chris says.

"Nice board," Duncan scoffed. "This ain't Malibu, honey."

"I thought we were going to be on a beach." Bridgette said.

"We are," Chris said. The camera panning away to a gross looking beach with trash and weird green liquid.

"Great," Bridgette sighed.

"All right, that makes-" Chris started before getting in the head with Bridgette's surfboard. "Ow! Damn it! That hurt!"

Bridgette walked off, ignoring Chris' complaints.

"Hey guys," Bridgette says to the other campers.

"Hey, I'm Geoff."

"What's up?" Bridgette says, turning around, making everybody duck to avoid getting hit with the surfboard.

"Dang! Watch the board man!" Harold said.

"Hi! I'm Beth!"

Hey," Bridgette says, turning around again, almost smacking Trent, Duncan, and Harold.

"Okay, we've all met surfer girl, can we get on with the show, please?" Heather said, still squeezing the water out of her hair.

"Someone missed their double cappuccino macchiato this morning," Duncan smirked.

"Fuck off," Heather spits out.

The next camper to arrive is short with brown floppy hair, a frown on his face. He's wearing a white undershirt, a blue polo, a red vest, grey shorts, and lace up boots.

"Our next camper is Noah," Chris said, rubbing the spot on his head where he got hit.

"You got my memo about my life threating allergies?" Noah asked, walking past Chris.

"Sure someone did," Chris answered.

"Good. Is this where we're staying?" Noah asked, his face scrunching up in disgust.

"No, it's your mother's house, and we're throwing a party." Duncan said, cracking his knuckles.

"Cute. Nice piercings, original, do them yourself?" Noah asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, you want one, shithead?" Duncan asked, pulling on Noah's lip.

"No thanks, can I have my lip back please?" Duncan let go of Noah, smirking "Thanks,"

The next person to arrive is a curvy, dark-skinned, girl. She's wearing a yellow shirt and blue jeans, with her black hair pulled into a ponytail.

"What's up ya'll?" she calls from the boat. "Leshawna is in the house."

Harold gasped when he saw her.

"Yo baby. Hey, how you doing?" Leshawna said, stepping off the boat, giving Chris a high five. "How's it going?"

"Feel free to quit now and save yourselves the trouble, 'cause I came to win." she said, walking to where everybody else was on the dock.

"Oh, what's up my brother?" Leshawna said, high fiving DJ. "Give me some sugar, baby."

"I've never seen a girl like you in real life before," Harold said.

"Excuse me?" Leshawna asked, her eyebrow raised.

"You're real big, and loud."

"What did you say to me?" Leshawna said angrily. "Oh, no you did it. You have not seen anything yet. I'll show you big, baby.

Just as Leshawna was about to pounce on Harold, DJ and Bridgette ran to hold her back.

"Oh yeah, you want some of this?" Leshawna said, struggling against DJ and Bridgette. "Come on then!"

"All right campers!" Chris sternly said. "Settle down!"

Leshawna readjusted herself, glaring at Harold.

Harold smiled shyly in return.

The next two campers to arrive were dressed like twins, with the same haircuts as well. One was tall, skinny, and dark skinned, while the other was short, chubby, and pale. Both of them were wearing black and white striped shirts, and hot pink shorts.

"Ladies, Sadie, Katie, welcome to your new home for eight weeks," Chris said, gesturing towards the camp.

"Oh my gosh! Sadie look! It's a summer camp! Katie said.

"Okay, I always wanted to go to summer camp!" Sadie squealed, as the two of them ran down the dock.

The next camper to arrive was very pale. He was wearing a blue hat, a green hoodie, and blue joggers.

He looks like he doesn't get out much.

"Ezekiel. What's up man?" Chris asks.

Ezekiel looks up at the sky.

"I think I see a bird," he says, making Trent chuckle.

"Okay, look dude, I know you don't get out much," Chris says, his hand on Ezekiel's shoulder. "Been homeschooled your whole life, raised by freaky prairie people just don't say much and try not to get kicked off too early. Okay?"

"Yes sir," Ezekiel says, walking off.

"That's just...wow," Gwen says.

Next, comes a short scrawny kid. He's wearing a striped, yellow sweater and blue jeans.

"Cody. The Coadster. The Codmesiter!" Chis says, finger gunning him before high fiving him.

"Dude, psyched to be here, man," Cody said, walking off. "I see the ladies have already arrived. All right."

As he's about to say something to Leshawna, she puts her finger up to his lips, silencing him.

"Save it short stuff."

The next girl to arrive is very intimidating. She has her black tied into a ponytail, and is dressed in a blue tracksuit, showing off her muscles.

"Eva. Nice. Glad you could make it." Chris says.

Eva walks past him, ignoring him completely.

Cody holds his hand up for a high five, but instead gets his foot smashed by Eva's bag.

"Ow!" Cody says, holding his foot. "What's in there? Dumbbells?"

"Yes," Eva answers.

"She's all yours, man," Duncan says to DJ.

"Woohoo!" screams a voice, making Chris cringe.

The guy who screamed is a chubby guy with blonde hair, wearing a white shirt and green shorts. He has a big grin on his face.

"Chris! What's happening?" he laughs "This is awesome! Woohoo!"

"Owen!" Chris says. "Welcome!"

Owen picks up Chris in a giant bear hug.

"Awesome to be here man!" he says. "Yeah! Man, this is just so..."

"Awesome?" Gwen finishes, a smirk on her face.

"Yes! Awesome! Woo!" Owen exclaims. "Are you gonna be on my team?"

"Oh, I sure hope so," Gwen says sarcastically.

"Wooooooo!"

"You about finished?" Chris asks.

Owen puts him down, still grinning wildly.

"Sorry dude," he says. "I'm just so psyched!"

"Cool, and here comes Courtney."

Courtney steps off the boat, with help from Chris.

"Thank you," she says.

She has short brown hair, and is wearing white blouse, and tight green jeans.

"Hi! You must be the other contestants. It's really nice to meet you all."

""How's it going?" Owen says, grabbing Courtney's hand and shaking it. "I'm Owen!"

"Nice to meet you Ow-wow," Courtney says, distracted by the next contestant.

The next contestant had sculpted muscles and nice dark skin. He had black hair just barely covering his eyes and was wearing a tight green shirt and simple jeans.

Everyone on the dock was staring at him in awe. The girls and the guys, especially Owen.

When Justin smiled, Eva and Katie swooned while Sadie fainted.

"This is Justin," Chris said as Justin got off the boat. "Welcome to Total Drama Island."

"Thanks Chris, this is great." Justin said.

"Just so you know, we picked you based entirely on your looks."

"I can deal with that," Justin shrugged his shoulders.

"I like your pants!" Owen said.

"Thanks man," Justin said.

"Because they look like they're all worn out." Owen laughed. "Did you buy them like that?"

"Uh no, just had them for a while."

"Oh, cool," Owen gave a thumbs up before smacking himself in the face. "Stupid."

"Hey everyone," Chris said, getting everyone's attention. "Izzy."

Izzy had curly ginger colored hair and was wearing and a green crop top and a green skirt, that looked like it was made out of leaves.

"Hi Chris!" she exclaimed. "Hi-Oh!"

As she started to run off the boat, she tripped and hit her chin on the dock before falling into the water.

"Ooh," Tyler cringed. "That was bad."

"Guys, she could be seriously hurt," Courtney said, trying to pull Izzy up.

When Izzy got onto the dock, she shook the water off her like a dog.

"That felt...so...good! Except for hitting my chin. This is summer camp? That is so cool! Do you have paper mâché here? Are we having lunch soon?" Izzy ranted

"That is a good call!" Owen said, pointing at Izzy.

"Calm down," Chris said. "We still have one more camper to meet."

At that moment, a boat pulled up, and a H/C haired girl stepped onto the dock. She was wearing a black and white stripped long sleeve, a black skirt, red converses and had nose ring.

"Last but not least, we have Y/N!" Chris smiled.

Y/N looked around at the camp, a frown etching itself onto her face.

"Um, I thought we were going to be staying at a resort?" she asked in confusion.

"Can't believe you guys actually believed that," Chris chuckled.

"Is it too late to go home?" Y/N asked.

"If you like swimming, then no." Chris cheekily.

"Douchebag," Y/N muttered as she walked to the other side of the dock.

"Before we do anything, we need a group photo for the promos," Chris said. "Everyone on the end of the dock!"

Y/N walked over along with everyone else, her frown still on her face.

'Oh well, I'm already here,' she thought. 'Besides, all of this is for Dad.'

Y/N was between Duncan and Tyler. She gave both of them a small smile before smiling towards the camera and putting up a peace sign.

Chris hopped onto the boat, a camera in his hand.

"Okay, one, two, three,"

The camera clicked.

"Oops, okay, forgot the lens cap," Chris said.

Y/N blew some hair out of her face, already annoyed.

"Okay, hold that pose. One, two, no wait...card's full, hang on,"

"Come on man, my face is starting to freeze," Leshawna rolled her eyes.

"Got it!" Chris said. "Okay, everyone say 'Wawanawkwa!'"

"Wawanawkwa!" everyone said.

As if this were a movie, at the exact time, the dock gave out, plunging everyone in the water.

Y/N screamed as she felt the cold water hit her skin. She struggled to get above the water, throwing up her hand, hoping someone would help her.

As she was about to sink, a rough hand grabbed her and pulled her to the surface.

Y/N coughed and spluttered up water, the person still holding on to her as they both got to shore.

"Okay guys," Chris called out. "Dry off and meet at the campfire pit in ten."

"So far, this fucking blows," Y/N said, standing up.

"You're so real for that," Duncan says. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Y/N mutters. "Thanks for helping me."

"Don't mention it," Duncan shrugged, before a flirty grin came up on his face. "The names Duncan. I didn't catch your name, sweetheart."

"Maybe if you were paying attention, you would have caught it, Duncan," Y/N smirked, walking off. "I'll see you at the campfire."

"This is Camp Wawanawkwa," Chris explained to the campers sitting on trunks in front of him. "Your home for the next eight weeks."

Y/N was currently standing in in between Eva and Duncan.

"The campers sitting around you will be your cabin mates, your competition, and maybe even your friends, you dig?"

Y/N and Bridgette looked at each other, smiling.

"The camper who manages to stay on Total Drama Island the longest, without getting voted off will win one hundred thousand dollars!"

"Excuse me," Duncan said. "What will be the sleeping arrangements be? Because I'd like to request a bunk under her." Duncan said, pointing at Heather.

"They're not co-ed are they?" Heather asked, concern on her face.

Y/N elbowed Duncan hard in the ribs.

"No. Girls get one side of each cabin and dudes get the other." Chris said.

Heather sighed in relief.

"You are so gross," Y/N muttered.

"What? Jealous 'cause you wish it was you instead?" Duncan smirked.

Y/N elbowed him in the ribs again, harder this time.

"Excuse me, Kyle? Can I have a cabin with a lakeview since I'm the prettiest?" Lindsay asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Okay you are," Chris said, making Y/N and Duncan look at each other with their eyebrows raised. "But that's not really how it works here. And it's Chris."

"I have to live with Sadie, or I'll die," Katie said, holding onto Sadie's hand.

"And I'll break out in hives, it's true," Sadie whined.

Y/N tried to contain her giggles by covering her hand with her mouth.

"This cannot be happening," Gwen sulked.

"Oh, come on guys!" Owen said, grabbing onto Gwen and Tyler. "It'll be fun! It's like a big sleepover!"

"Yeah, with people who I would never want to be around in public," Y/N muttered.

"Here's the deal," Chris said. "We're gonna split you into two teams, when I call your name out, go stand over there," he finished, pointing to the left of the campfire area.

"Gwen, Trent, Heather, Cody, Lindsay, Beth, Katie, Owen, Leshawna, Justin, and Noah. From this moment on, you are officially known as The Screaming Gophers!" he said, throwing the team a dirty green banner.

"Yeah!" Owen exclaimed. "I'm a gopher! Woooo!"

"Wait, what about Sadie?" Katie whined.

"The rest of you, over here," Chris said, pointing to the right.

"Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Tyler, Sadie, Izzy, Courtney, Ezekiel, Duncan, Eva, Harold, and Y/N. Move! Move! Move! Move!"

"Can't this guy have a little bit of patience," Y/N mumbled.

"Clearly not," Bridgette giggled.

"Excuse me?" Heather raised her hand. "How come they get an extra player?"

"Because I'm the host and I get to make the rules," Chris laughed.

"Ugh, whatever," Heather scoffed, giving Y/N a dirty look

Y/N gave one back.

"But Katie's a gopher!" Sadie whined. "I have to be a gopher!"

"Sadie, is it?" Courtney said. "Come on, it'll be okay."

"This is so unfair!" Sadie cried as Courtney walked her away. "I miss you, Katie!"

"I miss you too!" Katie cried.

"You guys will be officially known as The Killer Bass!" Chris said, throwing them an identical red banner.

"Awesome," Harold said. "It's like, amazing."

"It's so amazing," Y/N sarcastically said, making Courtney glare at her for whatever reason.

"Alright camper," Chris cleared his throat. "You and your team will be on camera in all public areas during this competition."

~Confessionals~

"You will also be able to share your innermost thoughts on tape, with video diaries anytime you want," Chris said, sitting in an outhouse, flies buzzing around him. "Let the audience at home know what you're really thinking. Or just get something off your chest."

-

~Confessionals~

"Um, okay, so far this stinks," Gwen said.

-

~Confessionals~

"I don't get it," Lindsay said, facing away from the camera. "Where's the camera guy?"

-

~Confessionals~

"Hey everyone, check this out," Owen said very seriously. "I have something very important to say."

Owen then farted, a sly smile on his face before he started laughing.

-

~Confessionals~ "So far, only like two people look reliable," Y/N said, covering her nose, "And oh my lord, what died in here?"

-

"All right, any questions?" Chris asked. "Cool. Let's find your cabins. Gopher's, you're in the east cabin, Bass, you're in the west." Chris said, gesturing to the cabins in the distance.

Y/N grabbed her luggage and started walking over to the cabin.

"Hey, you're Y/N, right?" Bridgette said catching up to her.

"Yup, that's me," Y/N smiled.

"Cool. I'm Bridgette," Bridgette smiled back. "I really like your nose ring."

"Thanks," Y/N said, as they reached the girls part of the cabin. "You wanna bunk with me?"

"Sure," Bridgette answered. "You want top or bottom?"

"You pick first," Y/Nsaid. "I don't care which one I get."

"Okay, if you're sure," Bridgette shrugged before picking the top bunk.

"Excuse me, Chris?" Y/N heard Geoff call out. "Is there a chaperone of any kind in this facility?"

"You're all sixteen years old," Chris said. "As old as a counselor in training at a regular summer camp. So, other than myself, you'll be unsupervised. You've got half an hour to unpack and meet me back at the main lodge, starting now!"

Suddenly, Y/N heard a loud shriek coming from the Gopher's cabin, making you and Bridgette look at each other.

"What the hell was that?" Y/N asked.

"I don't know," Bridgette answered. "Let's go check it out."

Y/N and Bridgette walked over to the cabin, peeking your heads in, along with Tyler, Gwen, DJ, Duncan, Harold, Heather, and Leshawna.

"Damn, that white girl can scream." Leshawna said.

Peeking in, Y/N saw that Lindsay was the one screaming. She was standing on a stool, in front of her, was a tiny little cockroach.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, dumbfounded.

"What is it!?" Lindsay asked. "Kill it! Kill it!"

The bug started to move around, making DJ squeal like a girl and jump onto one of the beds.

"That was my bed," Gwen groaned.

Everybody started screaming and jumping onto objects, trying to avoid the cockroach.

"It's just a tiny cockroach!" Y/N grumbled. "You guys are acting like a bunch of pussies."

Suddenly, Duncan walked through the door, carrying an axe.

Y/N swore the heard the cockroach saying 'Help me' before Duncan brought the axe down on it.

"You know, stepping on it would have worked to," Y/N said.

"Then why didn't you do it?" Duncan asked, smirking.

"Didn't wanna get cockroach guts on my shoe."

"If you ever see one of those again, just let me know, kay?" Tyler said to Lindsay. "Cause, you know, I could do that too,"

"They always go for the jocks," Duncan scoffed.

"What? Jealous that it's not you?" Y/N mocked his earlier statement, walking out of the cabin.

"Y'know, you still haven't told me your name, sweetheart," Duncan said, catching up to her.

"Chris literally said it earlier when he was making the teams," Y/N laughed. "Not my fault, you're dumb as sand."

"Ow! You hit right where it hurt!" Duncan said, holding onto his chest.

Y/N giggled. "Tell you what, I'll tell you my name at the end of the first challenge. Deal?"

"Why you waiting until then?" Duncan asked, the two of them now standing on their cabin porch.

"Just to make you wait," Y/N smirked. "Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna finish unpacking my stuff."

--

"Listen up!" a voice rang out through the mess hall. "I serve it three times a day, and you will eat it three times a day!"

"Grab a tray, get your food, and sit you butt's down NOW!"

"This guy is seriously crazy," Y/N whispered to Duncan.

"Seriously," he whispered back, as the line in front of them started to move.

"Um, what exactly is this?" Y/N asked, grabbing her tray. "There's not any wheat in here is there? 'Cause I'm really allergic to wheat."

"I don't think it's gonna be that much a problem, sweetheart," Duncan muttered, also grabbing his tray.

"What did you say!?" Chef yelled.

"Nothing sir!" Duncan said, before him and Isabell quickly sat down at one of the tables.

"Sheesh, you're gonna die before the show even begins," Y/N laughed, poking at her food.

"Dying would be better than eating whatever this is," Duncan said, taking a bit then immediately spitting it back out.

"Welcome to the main lodge!" Chris said, walking in.

"Yo, my man," Geoff said from right next to Y/N. "Can we order a pizza?"

Y/N barely had time to react before a butcher knife was thrown right in between her and Geoff's head. Isabell's eyes widened in fear.

"Woah! It's cool G!" Geoff panicked. "Brown slop is cool!"

"Seems like you're gonna be the one dying before the show starts," Duncan muttered.

"Go fuck yourself," Y/N muttered.

"Your first challenge begins in one hour!" Chris said, walking back out of the lodge.

"What do think they'll make us do?" Katie asked.

"It's our first challenge, how hard could it be?" DJ answered.

--

At the top of a thousand-foot cliff, was Y/N and the rest of the contestants, all dressed in their swimsuits.

"Holy fucking shit," Y/N said, looking down into the water.

if you don't like the swimsuit, or the outfit that you wear, you're more than welcome to imagine something different

im going to try to update more frequently

but no promises tho

stay safe and make sure to drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

[wistfulwatcher]

"at least natalie's death was narratively satisfyin—"

no. it wasn't. they gave us a character who has struggled with addiction her whole life. struggled with self-harm in a variety of forms. who has felt lost and guilty for the last twenty-five years. a character who has been suicidal multiple times in the past, a character who was literally suicidal a week ago.

and you killed her a day after she started to actually, truly try to heal.

yes, this show has always been dark. yes, from the first moment of the entire series we knew these girls committed unspeakable violence on one another, and did so ritually. yes, we knew that the adult versions of these characters spent the last twenty-five years struggling with their guilt and shame and trauma, and were doing it very, very poorly.

all of this just shows that the story has been in their struggle. this has been—or at least it was initially sold as—a show about women and their trauma. a show about women who don’t know how to examine their trauma, don’t know how to process it. who can’t take more than small glances at what happened, but who can also never, ever forget that it’s there. this has been a show about women who are coping, most times poorly, but very, very realistically.

and there was so much hope in that, despite (or because) this is such a dark show. these women can screw up and struggle and be real people—which women never get to be on television—and still maybe, they can heal bit by bit. there was always an inherent hope in this story, because they were all still, as adults, trying to make a life for themselves even if they were muddling through it.

in season two, natalie starts to heal at the retreat. (apparently—i personally found her 180 between "qui" and "burial" highly suspect and very poorly executed, but that's a moot point now.) she spends most of the season struggling against lottie, but finally accepts lottie's therapy (thanks to lisa) and beginning with "burial" she keeps trying to get the girls to talk about what happened. she figures out what she needs to move forward—to finally, truly address what happened in the wilderness by talking about it. that becomes her goal, and her focus with the others.

but natalie doesn't get to talk about anything. the girls want to drink instead of talk in "burial". and in "it chooses," the second nat suggests they talk, lottie shuts her down and suggests they drink poison instead. natalie is sober, and trying to do what she thinks she is supposed to do by confronting her trauma. she has made all of the "right" choices to actually heal from her pain, but she never gets to.

natalie’s entire story line, set up in her very introduction in the pilot, is to find her purpose. she talks about her self-destructive behaviors being due to her lack of one, and makes it clear that she intends to find that purpose once she leaves therapy. thus, for natalie’s story to be narratively satisfying, her story needs to end with her finding that purpose, right? which means that, if we are to treat this as a narratively satisfying ending, then natalie physically sacrificing her life for lisa is supposed to be that purpose. 

but death is not a purpose. and, to portray it as such for a character who has tried to commit suicide is, honestly, disgusting to me. especially for a character who was saved—again, a week ago—from her attempt by the very woman who then encourages her to drink poison that is used to "put animals out of their misery". who is then told in her death vision to “let the wilderness in” (when "the wilderness" has been a pretty clear metaphor for trauma!!!). they spent all season telling a suicidal character to suddenly let go and give in and stop resisting in a narrative that leads to her “””finding purpose””” in her fucking death. not to mention letting that death be recorded as "an overdose" after she has been explicitly sober as part of her growth!!

a far, far more narratively satisfying path for natalie is for her to actually find a purpose that is consistent with the hunter-protector she’s always been described as. in “no compass” tai says that natalie is the reason they all made it out of the wilderness. (again, wilderness as a metaphor for trauma!) so why, on earth would the better story line, the more consistent story line, the more satisfying story line—especially when this show is all about parallels and cycles repeating—not be natalie leading them all out of “the wilderness” by helping them process the trauma? by getting them all to talk about it?

(i didn’t necessarily need or expect yellowjackets to give a truly “good” message or resolution—bittersweet would be plenty for me—but can you imagine the beauty of that story? the character who has felt nothing but pain and guilt, who has been alone for the majority of her life, who has never felt good and stable love, being the one to break through the trauma first? the one who finally learns to heal first, and protects them all once again by leading them through the wilderness? a story of a woman supporting women through trauma that only they can understand?)

instead natalie's story goes from struggling with her pain and guilt, to trying to find some purpose in her life, to losing that purpose and attempting suicide, to being saved and actually starting to address her trauma head-on. and then dying before she can. i'm sure there are some people who believe that this is character growth (the briefest moment of addressing her trauma), but it wasn't; her growth is blunted by her death.

and this makes her death both tragic and unsatisfying. a character who struggles so hard and so long, who finally, finally sees a light, and the moment she reaches for it, is shifted back to where she was a week ago, having never gotten to actually grow.

so no, just because i am personally devastated by nat's death does not mean that i am blind to the narrative; quite the opposite. i am furious both as a fan of the character and a fan of the story. i feel deceived, disappointed, and insulted by every single part of this story. i feel like we were all cheated out of what could have been a beautiful exploration of a complex and fascinating character. and on top of all that i am very, very hurt.

[venturelovebot]

Fluffcember Day Twenty One: Cabin In the Snow

A/N: Prompt list is by @fluff-cember! Written in headcanon format. Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated but not necessary!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff!

🎄 "Ugh." You drop all your bags on the wooden floor and collapse into the nearby couch.

🕊️ "We made it!" They join you inside the warm interior next.

🪽 "My legs are jelly." You sigh.

⛄️ Sloan shuts the door behind them before turning up the temperature on the nearby radiator.

❄️ They reach into their bag and pull out two thermos still filled to the brim with warm fluids.

☕️ "Here." They sit down next to you and place the canister on the table.

🍪 You crawl upwards and snuggle up next to them, reaching for it and unscrewing the cap with your glove covered hands.

🎁 As soon as the lid is free, you start sipping on savory broth until your body feels replenished again.

💫 Small chunks of meat, vegetables and noodles fill your mouth on every intake.

🔔 Your face flushes from the heat and you finish every last drop in under five minutes.

🎄 It's only then do you feel somewhat like yourself again– removing your shoes, gloves and jacket to place them inside the nearby closet.

🕊️ "So, you said your parents owned this, right?" They ask.

🪽 "Apparently so! I had no idea. I know they talk about it every so often, but I never got the chance to visit until today." You explain.

⛄️ The cabin itself isn't isolated, but there was enough distance between the rest of them to give that illusion.

❄️ You're surrounded on all sides by snow and frost. Yet, you still had full access to electricity and food right around the corner.

☕️ There was even a hot tub outside on the patio alongside several chairs, pillows and blankets.

🍪 The whole thing felt like one cozy getaway. You made a mental note to visit in the later seasons as well.

🎁 The television flickers on. There's nothing particularly interesting– but movies and shows were available for later.

💫 Right now, you just wanted to relax after that trek through the piled up snow.

🔔 You nuzzle your beloved close and they wrap an arm around you to pull you in.

🎄 "Do you want to watch anything?" They offer, looking over at you.

🕊️ "I just want snuggles." You pathetically melt into their form.

🪽 They soothingly rub your back as you continue to recover from the harsh weather outside.

⛄️ "Do you want my soup? I packed extra just in case." They hold up their thermos for you to take.

❄️ "Ah– are you sure?" You take it with gratitude.

☕️ "Go ahead!" They smile.

🍪 They watch as you happily open the extra warm canister and gulp down its contents.

🎁 Your soul began to warm itself up slowly but surely.

💫 Meanwhile, the two of you continue cuddling underneath a layer of blankets and fluffy pillows.

🔔 Tiredness soon overtakes you. It had been a long day, and tomorrow had even more plans.

🎄 "Feeling better, mi tesoro?" They look down at you resting your head on their chest.

🕊️ "Mmhm." You mumble, pulse relaxing as their gentle movements soothe your sleepy mind.

🪽 A movie softly plays through the speakers on the wall.

⛄️ "Get some rest. I know you're tired." They hug you close and pepper kisses to your forehead.

❄️ "Mm– okay. What about you, though?" You look up at them with drowsy eyes.

☕️ "I'm tired, too. Are you comfy?" They adjust themself lightly to make sure you have more room.

🍪 "I'm fine. We can move to the bed if you want." You close your eyes again and nestle deeply into their body.

🎁 "That's not a bad idea, actually..." They gather you up in a bundle of blankets and lift you up near effortlessly.

💫 You lightly squeal as you're lifted into the air without a second thought. They nuzzle their face to yours, and place you gentle on the wooden bed nearby.

🔔 They join you underneath the sheets a second later.

🎄 "Shower and change in the morning, then breakfast. Sound good?" They ask.

🕊️ "Sounds good." You affirm.

🪽 And, before you knew it, sleep overtakes the two of you as you cozily cuddle underneath the covers.

[queenshelby]

The Fourth Season (Part Nine)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap (20 Years), Fluff, Smut

Words: 4,346

Notes: In this Fic, Cillian is 40 and the Reader is 20. Cillian is divorced and the Reader is single. This is not based on Cillian’s real life.

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

Over the next five days and, just before your scheduled trip to Cork, you tried to hide your relationship with Cillian on set while, almost every night, you sneaked into his apartment at around seven o’clock.

Just like a normal couple would, you had dinner together, shared a bed and watched some movies. You also practised your lines together and, without fail, by about nine o’clock each and every night, matters would get rather heated between you.

You kissed, made out and engaged in some kinky things too but Cillian did not push you to take it any further just yet. He could sense that you were still anxious about it and decided that it would be for the best if he gave you some time.

Since Natasha knew about your rather secret relationship with Cillian, she took no issue with the fact that you were not staying at the apartment you shared with her at night anymore. She knew what it meant to be in love and it came to no surprise to her that, most nights, you spent with Cillian these days.

His apartment was bigger and more comfortable than yours, featuring a flatscreen television and a large spa tub. It was clearly one of the perks of being the star of the show and, whilst Cillian did not care much for this special treatment, he appreciated being able to share this space with you.

Thus, some nights after dinner, you would simply lie in his bed and watch a movie together before getting to the kinky stuff. Then on other nights, Cillian and you would spend hours in the spa-bath and the time spent beneath the warm bubbly water was not just for the purpose of cleaning each other. You could never keep your hands of each other for long and you felt as though you needed and wanted him more and more these days.

Cillian was an incredible lover and, whilst you had not slept with each other yet, he managed to give you one orgasm after another simply by using his hands, tongue, and lips.

He was gentle, yet passionate and kinky, and the way he pleasured you was intoxicating. You could not get enough of him and, even when you were alone on set with him for a few minutes, he would tease you, causing you to be even more needy and desperate for his touch.

He enjoyed these kinds of games, edging you in a way that drove you absolutely crazy and, over the past week your hunger for him had grown quite significantly. You craved Cillian and his body and you knew that, by now, you had fallen in love with him. You were head over heels in love with a man who was twenty years older than you and, to you, it felt nothing but right.

But, it had only been a few weeks since your first encounter. This was when you first kissed and touched each other in front of the camera, and, even in such a short amount of time, you knew that you were ready for more.

You wanted to sleep with Cillian. You wanted to feel all of him and when he asked you to meet him in Dublin following your stay in Cork with your parents, you knew that this would be the day on which you would finally give up your virginity to this man.    

By that day, you would have spent more than one week apart from each other. It was an entire week you had planned to spend in Cork, with your parents and this same week Cillian would be spending with his children in Dublin, whom he had not seen for a while.

Then, following that week, you would travel to Dublin where would have two nights with him, at his house, before you both had to fly back to Liverpool to recommence filming. This would surely give you enough time to get ready and allow you to mentally prepare for this next step in your relationship.

***

But then, you still had one final night in Liverpool before you had to fly out the following morning, You were already packed up and, following your day on set, you had quick shower before heading to Cillian’s apartment for the night.

Without bothering to wear anything other than panties, you put on a cotton robe before, eventually, tippy toeing to Cillian’s place on the seventh’s floor of the building.

As you had discussed earlier, Cillian had left the door open for you so that you could come inside without knocking and this, itself was quite important now that Cillian had a new neighbour.  

Just today, James had moved next door to him after disliking his simpler apartment downstairs and, since he was the son of one of the shows’ major financiers, he was, of course, being granted his wish.

The fact that James was now living next door to Cillian bothered you as, now, fooling around with your new boyfriend, became much riskier. You had to be quiet and, with that in mind, after you entered Cillian’s apartment, you shut the door carefully and then locked it behind you. You certainly did not want to be caught in the act by your ex and thus you moved silently across the living room, startling Cillian when came walking out of the bathroom.

‘You are early’ he said while wearing nothing more but black Calvin Klein briefs and, just as he attempted to put a t-shirt over his head, you stopped him.

‘Yes, I am early. I simply could not wait to see you” you teased before, finally, pressing your lips on to his. Kissing him was exactly what you wanted to do but, with being on set and surrounded by other people all day, you could not have given into your urges.

“Hmm” you then moaned into Cillian’s mouth and, just as you kissed, Cillian ran his hand up the side of the robe to your shoulders.

‘Did you want to watch a movie together and order in some food?’ he then eventually asked as your lips drifted apart and you immediately shook your head.

‘No’ you told Cillian before gently running your hands over his chest and telling him that, what you really wanted to do was to lay in bed with him and make out.

‘We can do that’ Cillian said before realising that your robe would become a hinderance soon. It was in the way, rather impractical and clearly needed to come off.

‘Are you wearing anything under this?’ Cillian thus asked with great curiosity in his voice and you giggled before claiming his lips once more.  

‘Why don’t you find out?’ you then teased and, with that, Cillian opened the string which held the material together and exposed your mostly naked body.

‘God you are so beautiful’ Cillian said. He was in awe while he gazed over your body with his deep blue eyes and you soon found that he hungry with need for you.

After the robe landed on the floor and Cillian had the chance to stare at your naked body, his hands travelled back up your sides, grazing your breasts lightly before they reached your neck. Cupping your face with both hands, he brought you in for another kiss.

‘You are so fucking perfect’ he then said before, finally, guiding you into his bedroom and leading you onto the bed. He then fluffed the pillows around you so that you were cradled in a nest of clouds and, when he was satisfied that you were comfortable, he joined you.

Again, he kissed you, and again you felt your limbs go weak as your mind went dizzy. Hovering over you, his head was a silhouette in the golden glow of the lamp in the corner and you reached for him, caressing every part of his body that you could reach.

Your hands shook nervously as you were still a little unsure about what to do, but you tried your best to appear somewhat confident.

‘Do you want to stop?’ he asked but you shook your head.

‘No! I want more!’ you told him with as much confidence as you could muster but Cillian could not be fooled. He could sense that you were still nervous and, with that, he whispered into your ear.

‘Okay, then just relax and let me take care of you’ he said reassuringly before his lips pressed against yours and then they pressed to your chin, a gentle caress before moving on to your neck. His hair fell to the side of his face, tickling your skin as he feathered his way to your collarbone, his lips worshiping each patch of skin they pressed against. The tip of his tongue traced paths from freckle to freckle, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he mapped out your skin.

‘That’s nice. Keep going’ you whimpered as his fingertips brushed against your breast, prodding lightly as he held one in his hand. The kisses journeyed on, marking your chest and the tops of your breasts until his face was nestled in your cleavage. Again, his tongue darted out, finding an especially sensitive spot between your breasts that made me tremble beneath him.

The anticipation you felt was intoxicating. You wanted to lose yourself under Cillian’s body, revelling in the feel of his lips against your skin and then, there it was again, the teasing and mischievous look on his face.

Cillian glanced up at you, aware of the excitement running through you.

‘Tell me what you are thinking babe’ Cillian said gently and you bit your lip, not wanting to admit that you were desperate for him. Desperate for more.  

‘I just, I can’t get enough of you Cillian’ you whispered in between soft moans.

‘Well, that’s good, because I can’t get enough of you either’ Cillian said to you and, just after he did, you closed your eyes before telling him to keep going. You let your sensations take over and Cillian trailed kisses over your breasts again, alternating between both of them.

‘That feels so nice’ you told him and, just as you were spurring him on with your soft moans, he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth gently and then flicked it with his tongue.

“Oh god” you gasped as a jolt of that captivating electricity shot to your core and you moaned quietly as the hot wetness of his mouth moved against you.

Just like last few times, you had not expected it to feel so good and Cillian spent quite a while there. Your enjoyment of what his mouth was doing was obvious to him and it was not until you squirmed beneath him, with your pussy so wet you could hardly stand it, that he tore his heated attention away from your nipples and began kissing the underside of your breast.

He kissed your ribs, his tongue resuming its roaming from freckle to dotted freckle down your stomach. Both hands gripped your sides as he nuzzled against your belly button, then lowered to your hips as his lips moved an inch lower. He kissed that spot, and then an inch lower than that, and again until his lips reached the top of your mound.

You watched, your lips parting in astonishment as his head moved between your legs.

‘Do you want me to keep going?’ Cillian then teased as he gently brushed his fingers over your clothed sex, causing you to inhale sharply.

‘Yes, please…I need you’ you gasped, causing Cillian to chuckle quietly before gently hooking his fingers through the side of your panties and pulling them down.

‘Tell me what you need me to do?’ Cillian then went on to say just as your panties came off and you blushed and bit your lip nervously.

‘I need you to kiss me…my pussy…I want you to kiss my pussy’ you then stammered incoherently, causing Cillian to smile. His face was awfully close to your naked sex now and this aroused you.

 ‘God, you are so wet already’ Cillian then observed as he ran his fingers over you slit, causing you to squirm and moan all at the same time.

 ‘I am sorry’ you stammered out thinking that this may not be what or how had expected to find you but Cillian could not help but smirk.

 ‘It’s a good thing Y/N’ he pointed out to you with a smile before saying something else that both shocked you and turned you on incredibly.

‘I can’t wait to taste you. You are so fucking intoxicating’ he said just before he fully positioned himself in between your legs and dipped his tongue through your folds.

 ‘Oh god Cillian’ was all that came out of your mouth, a breathless squeak of shock at the foreign feel of his tongue pressed against your inner lips. You felt Cillian smile, saw his eyes practically sparkle just before he looked away and licked along your slit completely.

Just like the last few time, it was by far the strangest sensation that you had ever experienced, though not in a bad way. He explored you thoroughly, his tongue tracing every curve and crevice and even dancing along your entrance. He kissed you everywhere, from the ticklish spot where your leg met the swell of your pussy to nearly the lowest edge of your slit.

But, it wasn't until his lips surrounded your clit and he sucked incredibly gently that you understood just how quickly you would succumb to his ministrations yet again.

You then screamed out in pleasure and your eyes pinched shut, causing Cillian to caution you.

“Shhh babe, we don’t want your ex to hear you” Cillian thus said before he began to focus his attention on your clit. He alternated what he was doing, spending time licking it, circling it, sucking it, and stroking it. You gasped for breath, the chills that ran through your body almost exhausting to keep up with, and a steady stream of quiet groans found their way out of your mouth without even consulting your mind.

He shifted slightly at one point, bringing your legs over his shoulders. Your thighs touched his ears, his hair tickling the inner spots that it brushed against as he lapped at you possessively, practically drinking the juices that were flooding your crease. You could not help but stare, watching as he ravished you, entranced at the sight of him pleasuring you in a way you hadn't even known possible until the first time he did this to you.

The overwhelming feeling of losing control had just begun to prick through you when Cillian pushed one single finger inside you, doing so very carefully again, just like last time, knowing that you never had intercourse before.

‘Fuck, Cillian!’ you gasped loudly as you held onto the sheets tightly while his finger entered you and his tongue never left your clit. Again, just as you groaned loudly, you could feel the foreign feeling of a smile against your most private place and, moments later, he inserted a second finger carefully and slowly, paying particular attention to any discomfort.

‘Cillian! Oh my god! Please’ you moaned until, once again, your moan turned into a low scream of pleasure as he found a spot inside of you which you did not know was there.

‘Don’t stop!’ you gasped loudly as the pad of his fingers pressed against this particularly sensitive area inside of you while he flattened his tongue against your clit.

‘Don’t fucking stop!’ you moaned again and again as the ascent quickened, rushing you towards the edge.

Your hands found Cillian’s head and you ran your fingers through his hair without thinking, instinctively desperate for something to hold on to. He did not stop what he was doing as your legs tensed and did not react when your wordless gasp turned to a muffled shriek.

‘Cillian, oh god. Oh my god’ you moaned again and did not let go of his hair as you submitted to the lightning that consumed your body as your orgasm washed over you.

Your back arched and your thighs pressed harder against Cillian’s head. Your eyes were not open, but all you saw was white light as your body shook, everything from your toes to your fingers going numb with an electric passion that burst through you. It could have been seconds or minutes or hours; you had no concept of anything but radiating euphoria for a stretch of time.

When your body finally relaxed again, it relaxed completely. Your thighs fell away from Cillian’s head and your fingers unfurled, releasing the grip you had on his hair. He withdrew his fingers from inside you and pressed a final kiss to the top of your mound before sitting up and grinning as he wiped his mouth.

You tried to say something but you were not sure what, exactly, to say. You wanted to apologise for pulling his hair. You wanted to thank him and kiss him and tell him that you would be his forever if he asked you to. It was likely for the best that you could not speak as you would have made no sense at all. Thus, you just opened and closed your mouth a few times before shutting your eyes and groaning which is when Cillian sidled up alongside you and took you into his arms as you regained your breath.

‘Are you okay?’ he smirked and all you could respond with was a slight ‘mhmm’.

‘This was fucking sensational’ you then blurted out as your mind began to function again but your comment made Cillian laugh.

‘Good. I am glad’ Cillian chuckled before kissing you again, this time more firmly than before. His arms then tightened around again, holding you close against his body. He still wore his briefs, but you could feel the thick stiffness of his length pressed against you, scorching hot even through the fabric.

‘Now, let me do this to you’ you whispered against his mouth eventually as you slid a hand between your bodies, reaching for his stiff arousal through the top of his briefs.

‘Let me suck this beautiful cock of yours’ you then smirked and Cillian took a sharp breath, his hips moving forward to meet your hand.

‘That’s new, such profanity coming from you…’ Cillian observed and you smiled at him rather innocently despite the fact that this was not the look you were aiming for. You wanted to be his minx but, being a virgin still, any act you were putting on for him would likely going to backfire at you.

‘I am sorry, it just slipped out’ you thus told him, causing Cillian to laugh again.

‘Don’t ever be sorry babe. It’s so fucking sexy when you talk like this’ Cillian reassured you as you ran your other hand over Cillian’s firm thighs and then came eye to eye with the bulge pressing against his black Calvin Klein briefs.

‘Oh, good, in that case I can tell you that I have been fantasising about you, cumming in my mouth, over and over again’ you said seductively as you hooked your fingers into the rim of his underwear and then nervously pushed down his briefs and gasped at the sight of his hard cock, which, to your delight, was already leaking precum.

‘You are perfect’ you told him before, carefully, you moved into place between his legs which you pushed out slightly.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian barely managed to say as you finally placed the palms of your hands onto his thighs while his hands draped over your shoulders, finding their way to your hair.  

He looked down at you with a lustful smile and started combing the long strands of your hair with his fingers. You loved having your hair stroked and the sensation brought tingles to your skin.

You then started running your fingers ovdf his pubic hair and down over the warm flesh of his hard cock.

Cillian moaned quietly as your fingers slipped over the head of his swollen shaft and as you stroked him gently, causing another drop of precum to leak from his slit.

Your lips were so very close to his cock and, wanting to taste him and his precum and you almost asked him if you could, but then realised that this was a stupid question. You could feel your skin burning from the blush that was flaming over your flesh by this point and Cillian’s fingers massaged your scalp.

Eventually, you realised that this was his way of encouraging you to continue, but at the time, there was no pressure from him. He was letting you decide if this was something you wanted and this made you feel more at ease.

In your mind, there was no turning back now though. You wanted and craved him. All of him. You wanted him and, thus, you opened your mouth and took his length into it probably a little too abruptly.

“Fuck” Cillian groaned in response to your sudden movement and you felt him shiver as you ran your tongue over his member before lifting your mouth off it again.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked, blushing, unsure about his reaction.

“No. To the contrary. It feels so fucking good” Cillian said and you immediately took him back in. His fingers played in your hair and he never pulled or forced you to move quicker or slower.

When you took a break from pleasuring him with your mouth, you used both your hands to play with his length before engulfing him again.

There was no talking between you. You never spoke, to worried that he would tell you to stop but he never did. He enjoyed this. You may not have given a blowjob before, but you could tell from his groans of pleasure that he was welcoming every timid touch you gave him.

Cillian continued stroking your hair and, once you had pushed his length back into your mouth, you felt the blood rushing through the extended vein at the front of his shaft. You found the feeling of that interesting so you continued to suck and pleasure him, concentrating on the sensation of rushing fluid.

“Don’t stop Y/N. Keep going” Cillian eventually groaned and you took his length as deep as you could, gagging slightly as you did and you continued like this for a while, teasing him and pleasuring him for at least fifteen or twenty minutes.

“I am close” Cillian eventually announced and you could feel it again. The flowing blood just rushed through the veins of his shaft and you could feel your own desire growing as you kept on sucking.

Knowing he was enjoying what you were doing, your pussy grew slick again.

“Where do you want me...” Cillian then asked as he could feel his orgasm approaching but, before he could even finish his sentence, you stopped and looked up at him.

“In my mouth” you confirmed before you wrapped your lips around his cock again and increased your tempo.

‘Y/N’ Cillian groaned shortly thereafter and, with that, his shaft began to pulsate.

‘Fuck’ he gasped and then you could feel and taste it. His warm thick and sweet cum began to fill your mouth again, one spurt after another, running into the back of your throat and covering your tongue.

His essence tasted amazing and the sheer thought of him cumming in your mouth turned you on incredibly again. You drank up his cum, swallowing it all and this, in itself, elicited another yet groan from Cillian.

You then wiped your mouth and Cillian pulled you up and onto him in a haste.

‘Fuck, you are so sexy like this, swallowing my cum’ Cillian said and you giggled shyly with the taste of him still in your mouth.

‘I suppose all this watching porn has paid off, huh” laughed in response before, finally, he kissed you again, tasting your sweet lips and himself.

To your astonishment, Cillian was unbothered by the fact that he had just cum in your mouth and his tongue explored yours with urgent need, making you want even more but, before you could even contemplate anything else, there was a knock on Cillian’s door, startling you both.

 To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[benkyoutobentou]

31 Days of Productivity Reading もう一回！: Day 1

Before: Day one is so exciting, I can’t even decide what to read first. I’m leaning towards putting a bunch that I’m thinking of reading into a spinner wheel and letting fate decide for me, but I’m also thinking about choosing a volume of manga that I know I can easily get through in a short period of time because. Wait stopping mid thought. The new season of Kimi ni Todoke is being released through Netflix so I assumed it was gonna come out all at once, but I think I read somewhere that it’ll be week by week episodes? My initial plans were to binge watch the new season (like the rest of the world) but my day might have just gotten a lot freer… Okay they do come out one a week, so I guess I will indeed be choosing my first read via spinner wheel. Thank you for accompanying me in this journey.

Update: it’s worse than we all could’ve guessed. Not only did Netflix drop five new Kimi ni Todoke episodes at one, each one is over an hour long. I almost don’t even want to watch. I’m so angry. Who let this happen. No more Netflix anime. Please. I can’t take this. Where are my twenty minute episodes. Netflix I hate you so much

After:

I did indeed go the spinner wheel route and the choice ended up being BASARA. As much as I adore this series, I was hoping for more something that I could finish in a single day for the first day of the challenge. For morale. I’ve read a few volumes so far and even though I’m adoring it, BASARA is a pretty old series (which means more text per page) and my volumes are the little almost omnibus series, so they’re around 300 pages each instead of the 150-200 that’s normal for regular manga volume prints. Also the chapter lengths are insane in this series. To complete my goal of reading one hundred pages today, I need to read (get ready for this. Are you ready?) a single chapter. Only one. Oh boy.

Okay, so here’s what happened. Lately I’ve been staying up super late to watch the equestrian events in the Olympics (it’s the only time I ever see them televised) and yesterday I stayed up until around five am watching show jumping. Obviously, I was super tired today, especially after the cat I’m cat sitting woke me up early, which made me even more hesitant for this volume of BASARA. But I started reading and I finished that one chapter and then I kept reading and I kept reading and then I only had one chapter left and obviously I can’t leave on just one chapter left. So I finished the volume. I was totally expecting to be reading this for three days so I’m super stoked that I managed to read it all today. This series just gets better and better with each volume, I’m so obsessed. I’m also kind of worried that I’m not going to want to read anything else until I’ve completely finished it, which can’t happen because I only have the first five volumes (this was volume three). Side note, I kept picking up the book upside down because the cover has a character on it upside down.

Today I read 287 pages of manga and read 1/10 volumes for the month! I’m off to a good start! I’m also probably going to let the spinner wheel choose tomorrow’s read as well.

[evergreen-writing]

Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've?) || JD (Heathers) x British!Reader

Cross-posted on AO3

CHAPTER ONE : I Can't See Much of a Future

11AM in Sherwood, Ohio, so 4PM back home, and you were watching ever-so-painfully as the classroom clock ticked down to 12, when you could escape around back with a mediocre American sandwich from the cafeteria and your copy of Sylvia Plath’s Ariel to fuel your lamenting. Sure, this quick dip across the pond (as it was first proposed to you) has helped your family financially, that couldn’t be denied, but God, did it make you lonely. Last July, you were ever-so-politely begged to accompany your twenty-five year-old brother to his exciting yet confidential new science job for a few weeks while your parents ‘sorted something out’, but then the weeks turned into months and now you are approaching your 6th month in redneck America with excruciating lethargy.

Sure, you made friends, but you’ve had it up to here with them; with the only name people use for you being ‘Redcoat’, with constantly being asked if you want tea, with incessant comments about British girls being more ‘polite in bed’ than American ones from two certain jocks who you are far too dignified to name. You’re smart, yes, but you find it hard not to be when comparing the two school systems you have been enslaved to, and pretty, apparently, but you’re unsure if that is just due to the novelty of your nationality messing with people’s heads. Despite your personal qualities and the privileges they bring, you know that you hate it here.

So, once you step outside that classroom, you go through the motions. Your most often-seen acquaintance, Ivy, immediately pounces on you, fresh off a period of smoking in the third floor girls’ toilets, and bombards you with news of a ‘rad party’ the weekend coming, and asks where you got your lipstick before deciding it must be from ‘one of those London brands’. You are not from London. However, you have tried to play upon people’s assumptions, and have adopted a far posher accent than usual to quell any commotion surrounding the fact that England does in fact, have a North. Then, two unfortunately familiar boys, towering proud in their letterman jackets, approach you, their chests puffed out in a manner that you can only relate to birds during mating season. They ask you your plans for the weekend, with a barely understandable guffaw lacing their tone. Upon being told that they’ll have to ‘wait and see’, they admonish you for being ‘such a tease’ and in turn, ‘so British’ and move on to a girl far less world-weary and far more susceptible to their advances. Ivy grabs you by the arm and pulls you around the corner, into an empty classroom far from other people’s prying ears.

“I, personally, cannot ‘wait and see’. My entire schedule this week revolves around who will be where, when, and I cannot deal with showing at that party and not having anyone to tell Kurt and Ram to ‘shove off’.”

Each time she quotes you, she does so in a cheap imitation of your accent, and you find plenty of opportunity to roll your eyes. Desperately putting off the decision, as it will inevitably be to go somewhere where you’d prefer to be six feet underground, you decide to laugh at her.

“Why have you dragged me into an empty classroom, Ivy? Planning something nefarious?”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes, now.

“It’s because I’m your friend, and I know you like to do the whole aloof British girl shtick around the boys, so I’ll help you preserve your image, but, God, do I need an answer.”

You sigh.

“Imminently?” You try.

She nods once, determined.

“Imminently.”

You sigh, and turn your head away from her to hide your disappointment, as you were honestly planning on staying in this Saturday and watching Doctor Who on that illegal, pirate TV channel you’d found that somehow manages to hijack the BBC signals right to your home television. You suppose you will have to wait until it is released on VHS.

“Look, unless something comes up, I’ll come. Can’t have you facing those big, mean boys all by yourself, can I?”

When you finish, she envelops you in a hug, resting her head on your shoulder and wrapping her arms so tightly around you that you earnestly cannot breathe for a few seconds. In these seconds, your slightly oxygen-starved brain surveys her, and you honestly don’t know how she survived without you: she’s petite, crudely so, her head barely reaching your neck in the hug despite your lacklustre height of around 5”6; she’s all curves and no edges, wrapped up in whatever Madonna was wearing last week and most worryingly, every emotion she experiences is immediately on her face as if you were watching some sort of hammy pantomime. You feel as if you must go to the party on Saturday, only to bring all the attention and undressing eyes off her.

Still clinging to you like some sort of overgrown toddler, she whines, pouting.

“What would come up that would make you leave me all alone?”

You laugh slightly at the carping, high pitch of her voice and you murmur something not truly thought out, just something to make sure you don’t develop tinnitus.

“I don’t know, if a guy asks me out or something.”

She pulls away from you and her face quite literally glows, as if she is being lit from behind.

“Is there a guy who would ask you out? If so, I need to meet him.”

You laugh truly now, if not slightly incredulously.

“You’re not my mother, Ivy. Plus, there isn't even a guy! That was a hypothetical!”

She hums, shaking her head vigorously.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this, Redcoat, just you see.”

Just like that, she bounds through the classroom door, a blur of a low-cut shirt and tight black trousers, leaving you all alone, surveying the ‘ALGEBRA IS FUN!’ poster of the classroom that you now know contains maths lessons. Irritated, you correct your inner monologue that you have to say ‘math’ now (why - it’s not mathematic, is it?) and calmly debate grabbing some food. Twelve to twelve-twenty is Kurt and Ram’s demon time, and although their torment isn’t enacted on you in such an obvious way, you find it incredibly difficult to sit through the literal bullying of random, helpless American kids and act like you find it funny. It is slightly, but your fun ends when you remember that these aren’t cartoon characters from the American TV shows and instead actual, real-life kids. So, you decide that your best train of thought is to pull out Ariel, which you cling to like a security blanket and paw feverishly to one of your tabbed and wildly annotated pages and read Lady Lazarus, whispering the lyrical lines to yourself like some sort of maddened prayer to an ancient Goddess. You’ll grab some food at some point, you decide.

Around the last couple of verse paragraphs, sometime about the commanding of ‘Herr God’ and ‘Herr Lucifer’, you hear a dry voice leering near the previously unopened door.

“Sylvie, huh?”

You look up to see a teenage boy, his gaunt yet lanky frame cloaked in a deep black trenchcoat, fluffy, tawny fringe nearly covering his eyes, which you can vaguely see are a dark brown, seemingly containing multitudes. Immediately, something seems wrong about him. Unfortunately, this only intrigues you more and you decide to amuse him.

“Mhm, she’s my patron poet.”

He takes this opportunity to stride forward, his pace not suggesting he’s aware that he’s intruding, letting the door swing then slam behind him. His face doesn’t even react to your accent. He doesn’t give away much, actually, just simply nodding his head in response and vaguely smirking as he comes over. He slides onto the desk facing the one you’ve claimed as your seat and his intent gaze implies that you cannot just flip over to Tulips.

“I’m new”, he says, “I’ve been told to find the registry office, yet never been told where the registry office actually is.”

You sigh, in a performative manner that is unusual for you and slide Ariel back into your backpack.

“Follow me. I arrived in September, so I’m pretty sure the way is still in my memory.” You trail off for a moment, but when the boy barely replies, only mirroring you by propelling himself off the desk, you say more. “I’m not from around here.”

He laughs slightly at this, as you can hear a slight, dry chuckle from behind you.

“Somehow, I could tell. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not from around these parts either.”

Due to your place of origin, you can’t distinguish different American accents apart, unless those accents are rootin’ tootin' cowboy or valley girl, so you are genuinely shocked by this reveal, and you think the boy can tell, as that endearingly miniscule laugh repeats itself.

“I couldn’t have guessed,” You beam, before shock settles on your body and you whip your head around. “God, I have been so rude. I’m Evelyn.”

He makes an attempt at a polite smile, and only says: “Nice to meet you, Evelyn.”

Silently, you continue walking.

Trying to shake off your slight horror at his unwritten-rule-breaking behaviour of not sharing his name in return, you try to make yet another quip.

“I still don’t know why they need another office just for admissions. Surely, they could just use the regular one.”

You cast your eyes behind you, careful not to slow your stride, but you notice that he’s not even smiling, instead, his lips flatten into a straight line.

“They’d get overloaded, Evelyn. Highschool makes kids crazy: they quit, they die, they kill themselves, whatever. Then, another worker drone comes to take their place - rinse and repeat. If you aren’t pulling your hair out by now, you’re stronger than most.��

You, to be completely frank, are stunned. Unsure about whether that was even a joke or not, you let out a muffled, half-laugh before deciding that being candid is your best bet to keep this conversation afloat.

“I’m just waiting to get on that plane back home, to be honest. I was only meant to be here for a few weeks, then the weeks turned into months and then… I don’t know.” You trail off, slightly taken aback at how honest you are around him.

It wasn’t too long ago that you decided that who you are at school is a front, a character to pull you through. Now here you are, expressing actual emotions and being an actual person in front of a literal stranger who you don’t even know the name of.

You turn fully around now, meeting him in the eyes and you notice that he is fully considering your statement, his eyes not even meeting yours, instead unwavering straight ahead.

Suddenly, he speaks.

“I want to get out, too. I think everyone does, really.”

This lulls you into a rather placid silence, you somewhat cocooned with the revelation that you think, deep down, you already knew. Keeping up a steady pace, you soon reach the registry office and the boy begins to leave you, turning his back. You hear your voice escaping your mouth before you even realise you’re speaking.

“Will I be seeing you around?” Your voice sounds distant, yet hopeful.

Swivelling to face you, he smiles in a way that is actually genuine, in a tone which is the lightest you’ve ever heard from him, you hear:

“Hopefully.”

And then he is gone.

(P.S.: Reblog with the word 'taglist' to be added to the taglist)

[yandereunsolved]

Ahs characters from each season having to compete for your love in a reality television show ❗❗ No killing is allowed... it won't stop some of them from trying. You start with twenty contestants, you vetted the candidates. They are all in the place of your choosing. Some contestants may have any edge because of that.

So what will it be? Murder House, Briarcliff, the Cortez, etc...? Let's just go with the basic for now and say Murder House (but it is mansion size and is able to fit twenty people). Tate is already planning on terrorizing the other guests. He takes up his old room and doesn't allow anyone in it. The rest of the ghosts in Murder House watch in interest. Violet is on as well. She was not gonna allow Tate to get up to his fucked up shit again. You're cute anyway.

You get rid of five candidates after the first two days. You have gotten acquainted with them. Now there are only fifteen left.

• 4 challenges later and only seven are left

I'd imagine the challenges could be ahs themed in some way. At least keeping up the provocative and dark theme. Who can kill your enemies the best? Who knows the most about you, your deepest and darkest secrets? Who has the best special talent? Who is able to woo you the best with just one gift? Some are bloody and some are wholesome and some are beautiful.

In the off time of the challenges— who are you connecting with the best? Who wins dates/gifts from you when they win the challenges? What are those dates/gifts? Do you allow yourself to be seduced by one... or multiple of them? Who gets into fights and what are they like?

• 6 challenges later and you have your one and only.

Although, if you wanted to stop early and have more than one partner it would make for good television. Imagine the bonus episodes.

DO NOT and I repeat DO NOT have a reunion episode. I guarantee someone is going to get knifed or an entirely new place becomes haunted. If they were yanderes it would be even worse.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✧ taglist: @coentinim @cxndiedvi0lets @marchsfreakshow @slutforgarlogan @lacucarachapisser

[karamina]

Horseland Age Headcanons

Time for me to show up out of the weeds with my completely unsolicited headcannons and theories for obscure television series that I should be way too old for again lol. Today's victim:

Horseland

There seems to be a general consensus on the ages of the various human characters in Horseland. That fanon conclusion being that the main characters are all around 15 yrs old, with the exception of Will, who is slightly older at 16-17 years old. I disagree with this assessment.

First let's look at some direct quotes from some of the episodes.

Episodic Evidence

1) Episode: "You Can't Judge A Girl By Her Limo" (S1E1)

"You calmed Button down better than I could and I've been riding her for five years!" - Alma Rodriguez

This quote provides some clues about Alma's age, or at least the minimum age that Alma can be. Most riding instructors will take students at the age of 9, with some taking as young as 6 years of age. Being's that Alma's dad is the manager at Horseland, I think that Alma would have began riding at a very young age. By that logic, Alma is somewhere between 11-14 years old, unless she rode a different horse before Button.

https://horsesafetytips.com/2020/06/04/whats-the-best-age-to-start-horseback-riding-lessons/

2) Episode: "Fire, Fire, Burning Bright" (S1E5)

This episode has some interesting quotes that may give clues to the main character's ages, or at least the Stilton girls ages and Will's age.

"Let me get this straight, you got all the way to middle school without learning to swim?" - Molly Washington

Wouldn't it be odd that Molly specifically mentions Chloe and Zoey making it to middle school (11-14 yrs old, in Canada from Wikipedia) without having learned how to swim if they were high school aged (14-18 yrs old)? If they were in high school, she probably would've said that instead. Beings that the series likes to remind us that Chloe is older than Zoey, that would mean that Chloe is about 12-14, and Zoey is around 11-13 years old. Either that or they are twins, but that doesn't seem to be the case (I myself have a sister that is 1 and 1/2 yrs older than me, and I also had a close relationship to her growing up). The only evidence I have seen that points to them being twins as opposed to being siblings close in age is the names rhyming with each other (Although my mom's friend's four grandchildren all have names ending with the -en sound and I went to school with twins that had non-ryhming names so that isn't a very strong argument imo)

"But I was in charge of the trip. I am responsible for everyone." - Will Taggert

This one's a bit less obvious, but as a volunteer that has worked with minors on weekend retreats before, I know that organizations and schools typically require (often by law) at least one faculty chaperone to be 18+ yrs old and to have clearances stating that they have never abused a child or commited a crime (usually, they also want more than one adult chaperone per group as well, but we'll let this slide based on the fact that there are only 5 minors going on this trip). From this line and his role in this episode's plot, we can deduce that Will is the staff member from Horseland facilitating this overnight event, and thus is at least 18-19 years old. This makes sense. Will has a rather unique role in the series compared to the other characters. He is a sort of groundsman and riding instructor at Horseland, rather than a student. His aunt and uncle (Bailey's parents) are also his employers. Reasonably, if I had to pinpoint a narrow age range for Will, I would say that he is 18-21 years old, although I wouldn't discredit him even being as old as his mid twenties (at least in season 3), almost solely based on his demeanor and almost laid-back relationships with the other main characters. His behavior in this episode even supports this. I went through a similar predicament, albeit on a smaller scale, while acting as a hiking guide at the age of 20 on one such aforementioned retreat. I blamed myself for potentially endangering these students, even though they were told to follow my lead and instead went off trail at one of the more dangerous parts of the trail. Likewise, Will blamed himself for the forest fire, even though it was really Chloe and Zoey's actions that caused the fire, for the sole reason that he was the adult responsible for the trip and all the students he took on it and thus is immediately liable for anything bad that happens (Well more like Horseland would be liable, and Will would be at risk of losing his job and/or facing fines or criminal charges). From this episode and how Will progresses throughout the series, I'd say Will is in his early stages of leadership and that is why I chose an age range closer to the ages of majority in Canada (which depends on which province Horseland supposedly exists in). I know some of y'all may be thinking about this, so I'll address it while I'm still on Will. In several of the episodes featuring competitions, while we never actually see him compete, Will is on Jimber and wearing typical dressage wear as opposed to his jeans and t-shirt (See "Changing Spots"). Some may say that this proves that he is actually a student as well. It may be possible that he is a student as well, and simply tutors more ameteur riders in his free time, but this says nothing about his age, only that he would be more advanced than the other main characters. He also could be dressed like that just for show for the competition. Additionally, while I know very little about equestrian competitions, while I was in HS winter colorguard, my instructor (a college student) usually would compete with a different club in a different age category at the same competition. It may not be disimilar.

3) Episode: "Pepper's Pain" (S1E7) "Zoey, you guys have been together for years. Your dressage proves how well you've grown as a team." - Chloe Stilton

The information provided in this line from Chloe is ambiguous. However, the emphasis she puts on years implies that Zoey has been riding Pepper for like a really long time, although she may just be emphasizing this word as she's trying to make a point to Zoey. Regardless, it is safe to say that Zoey has been riding Pepper for at least 5 years. That would put her in the same minimum age range as Alma, 11 to 14 years old.

4) Episode: "The Competition" (S1E9)

"Oh my gosh, what a huge let-down. First off, his girlfriend was there, and they were both old! He was at least thirty." - Chloe Stilton

This ones a bit of a reach, but what teenager thinks that 30 is old? I certainly didn't (then again, I did grow up surrounded by family members that are elderly, so take my words with a grain of salt). Regardless, this statement solidifies the argument that Chloe is probably middle school aged, rather than high school aged. As we progress from childhood to adolescence into adulthood, the perception of "oldness" changes. Have you ever seen the vine where this little girl (likely kindergarten aged) famously says "I'm 16! I'm a grandmother!". If you were a middle schooler, you probably would consider 30 to be old. There are many articles that document this phenomenon:

5) Episode: "Heritage Day" (S03E10)

"Zoey, they eat mosquitoes, not teenage girls." - Nani Cloud

This line takes place after the girls are frightened by a group of bats sharing the cave they took shelter in from a storm. This line clearly states that at this point of the series, most if not all of the main girls are teenagers (ages 13-19). We can conclude one of two things, depending on how one percieves this show's timeline, since the line is said towards the end of the show's final season. A) The girls have always been teenagers or B) There is a time skip between season's 2 and 3. For me, B is plausible if we try to explain Bailey and Will's voice changes cannonically. But B is also not plausible considering Will is already an adult and would have already undergone a voice change. Thus I will say that the ages of the girls are constant through the series at the lower range of the teens, perhaps even preteens.

Plots and Storylines

Next, let's look at the plots of the episodes. A lot of the episodic plots support most of the main cast being preteens or in their very early teens. Molly getting her first cellphone, Alma getting her first crush, Chloe lying about being able to do an advanced jump to impress her peers, Sarah getting her first taste of death through the loss of a beloved pet, etc. Not to mention, many of the episodes are driven by some drama being stirred up (middle schoolers are notorious for being awful to each other). These are all typical problems that preteens face during this stage of their life. You may be inclined to think that all of the MCs are in middle school from this, but there is some evidence for some of the characters being slightly older than others. In the episode "The Best Loss", Molly is out with her friends at a pizza parlor with no parents in sight and has been able to take the public bus to and from Horseland on her own for the entire duration of the series. In the episode "Talk, Talk", she's even talking to her friend Amber about what she should wear to a party. This leads me to believe that Molly is slightly older than the other girls. Bailey also falls under this category. In the season 1 episode "Boss Bailey", Bailey is left in charge of Horseland for a day when his parents and Will have to go facilitate a parade. Even with Bailey being the owner's son, I think that they would not want to leave a middle schooler in charge of an entire riding school. Bailey is also used as an example during a lot of Will's lessons to the other MCs, demonstrating jumps, meaning he's probably more advanced than the other riders. He also does a lot of the groundwork and maintenance with Will (such as in "Pepper's Pain", "Fire, Fire Burning Bright", and "Wild Horses"). For these reasons, I think Bailey is a bit older than the girls.

Conclusion

I could go on and on, analyzing each character's behaviors one by one, but I'd essentially just be rewriting the show's script interspersed with my own interpretation. That is most of what this conclusion is, my interpretation of the characters based on my own life experiences and the collective characterizations the show provides across its three seasons. So with that being said, here are my guesses as to the ages of the characters.

Sarah Whitney -        13 Molly Washington -  14 Alma Rodriguez -     13 Chloe Stilton -           14 Zoey Stilton -            13 Bailey Handler -        15 Nani Cloud -              13 Will Taggert -            20

I chose most of the main characters to be so close in age to each other as they are all in the same "practices" at Horseland, as well as how they interact with each other.

So, what do y'all think? Do you agree with the ages I chose for each character? Why or why not?

*Side note - I know there are a fair deal of Sarah x Will shippers out there. I know that most of them do not support minors being in relationships with adults. Remember, there are no official ages for these fictional characters and this post is just my personal interpretations. While I myself do not ship these two characters, my intent is not to say that this fan population is wrong for supporting this ship. My purpose for writing and posting this is to share my thoughts on the Horseland characters ages based on my own observations and life experiences. 

[rabbitcruiser]

Anthony Bourdain was born on June 25, 1956, in New York City.  

Bourdain Day  

The life, legacy, and birthday of world-traveling culinarian and  storyteller Anthony Bourdain is celebrated today. Created by José Andrés  and Eric Ripert, fellow chefs and friends of Bourdain, who announced it  with a video, Bourdain Day is celebrated with the sharing of tributes and memories of Anthony Bourdain.

Bourdain achieved rockstar status—a rare feat for a cook—and his  suicide in 2018 devastated his fans, who felt a strong connection to  him. He traveled the world and ate food in just about any location  possible. In the process, he demonstrated the power of a shared meal to  bring people together, the diversity of cuisines and cultures, and also,  in contrast, that no matter where people are from, they very much are  alike. He was a storyteller and explorer of the human condition who used  food as his landscape. His ethos, which drew so many to him, can be  summed up with his own words: "If I'm an advocate for anything, it's to  move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply  across the river. Walk in someone else's shoes or at least eat their  food. It's a plus for everybody."

Anthony Bourdain grew up in Leonia, New Jersey, and began working in kitchens at the age of 13. He later said he learned the most important  lessons of his life as a dishwasher. But addiction took hold of him when  he was in his twenties, and he became hooked on heroin for a time. He  went to Vassar College in New York State for two years before dropping  out and enrolling in culinary school. He then worked as a line cook and  sous chef at a number of restaurants in the Northeast, before becoming  the executive chef at Brasserie Les Halles in Manhattan.

In 1999, after publishing two suspense novels, Bourdain's article "Don't Eat Before Reading This" appeared in The New Yorker,  garnering him some attention. In it he captured kitchen life and the  characters of the underbelly he came across while working there, saying,  "In America, the professional kitchen is the last refuge of the misfit.  It's a place for people with bad pasts to find a new family." The  article set the groundwork for and led to the book Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly, released the following year, which was a best-seller and brought Bourdain widespread fame. Bourdain followed it up with A Cook's Tour: In Search of a Perfect Meal.

Then came television. Four shows over sixteen years brought viewers  to the far corners of the world, where food and conversation underpinned  an exploration of culture. Bourdain's first show, A Cook's Tour, was adapted from his book and aired on the Food Network in 2002 and 2003. Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations debuted on the Travel Channel in 2005. It received over a dozen Emmy Award nominations and had two wins over its nine seasons. The Layover, also on the Travel Channel, aired from 2011 to 2013.

In 2013, Bourdain moved to CNN with Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown.  It won five Emmy Awards and a Peabody Award for "expanding our palates  and horizons in equal measure." Tragically, Bourdain died of suicide on  June 8, 2018, while in France working on an upcoming episode of Parts Unknown. He was 61. Although he is no longer with us, his life and legacy live on in his robust body of work and with Bourdain Day.

How to Observe Bourdain Day

Share  a tribute or memory of Anthony Bourdain along with the hashtag  #BourdainDay. Then you could celebrate his life, legacy, and birthday in  a number of ways:

Read one of his books, such as Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly, A Cook's Tour: In Search of a Perfect Meal, or No Reservations: Around the World on an Empty Stomach.

Read "Don't Eat Before Reading This," the New Yorker article that set him on a path to fame.

Read a book about him.

Watch Remembering Anthony Bourdain.

Watch Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain.

Watch episodes of A Cook's Tour, Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations, The Layover, or Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown.

Read remembrances of Bourdain from his fans.

Eat at a place he ate. Visit a place he visited. Read some of his quotes. Above all, move—"As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river."

Source

[haggishlyhagging]

Media critic Jennifer L. Pozner has spent thousands of hours and an immense amount of patience watching both cable news and reality television, and understands better than the average person how alike they've become. "We treat stories that we would have never treated as journalism twenty years ago like headline news," she muses. And we treat reality TV the same way. More relevant to feminism, however, is how the reality genre has harnessed the belief in a postfeminist world and, in doing so, reframed retrograde gender dynamics as expressions of freedom and empowerment. Far more than any backlash could have predicted, the feminist rhetoric of individuality, opportunity, autonomy, and choice has been co-opted by a consumer media that has very non-ulterior motives for presenting women as willingly sexualized, hyperfeminine ciphers.

In Pozner's 2010 book Reality Bites Back: The Troubling Truth About Guilty-Pleasure Television, she asserts that one of the most jarring features of reality TV is the way it urges its female participants—and often, the women and girls who watch them—toward narrower and narrower definitions of beauty, self-worth, and success, as well as a truncated sense of what kind of life is possible and desirable, all while encouraging them to see other women only in terms of competition and comparison. But "reality" functions as a magic shield against accusations of racist and sexist cliché and regressive storylines: producer and participants alike will reason that if you put twenty-five women in a room with a man they barely know, of course the evening will end with the women sobbing, yelling, yanking each other's hair extensions out, calling each other sluts, and drunkenly slurring, "We're meant to be together" to floor lamps. Reality TV is part of an ongoing narrative of postfeminism that, like Wonderbra billboards once did, assures women that feminism has granted them the power and the freedom to be whatever they want to be. And if what they want to be just so happens to conform to a smorgasbord of insecure, catty, vapid, and villainous stereotypes that even Walt Disney's frozen head would reject as too cartoonish, who's to say that's not empowering?

Let's take The Bachelor because, since it's one of the highest-rated network shows for more than a decade, we kind of have to. Since its debut in 2002, ABC's reality flagship has drawn in advertisers' favorite cash-cow demographic, women 18-34, by the millions, and has served as a barometer of how young, heterosexual, and mostly white women are encouraged to alter their ambitions, personalities, and behaviors to compete in the dating market. The show, mused media critic Susan J. Douglas when it premiered, "offers highly normative female ‘types’ into which most women allegedly fall ... urged to place themselves on a post-feminist scale of femininity to determine how far they have to go to please men without losing all shreds of their own identity and dignity. In the process, young women calibrate, for better and for worse, what kind of female traits are most likely to ensure success in a male-dominated world." For twenty seasons, the series has confirmed centuries' worth of entrenched beliefs about what women want (marriage, money, the knowledge that they've beaten out masses of other women for the a man they barely know), and what men seek (a thin, deferential woman who's only as ambitious as she needs to be to bag a husband).

-Andi Zeisler, We Were Feminists Once

[winchesterish]

im gonna say this: we KNOW 90s and 00s shows were not diverse. is there some point to keep saying it about the SAME shows like it'll open up a portal in time so we can change it? yes, older television held different social standards than what we do today. in twenty years what we consider good might be considered immoral. there's no point in critique without change, and the things being critiqued are changing. supernatural is what it is, and the first five seasons represent the period in time in which they came out, and what people at that time were like. regardless of how we like it, that's what it is. television and film today is becoming more diverse and it's fantastic, but it took time to get here, and slamming old shows for not being modern is ridiculous.

[vintage-retro-queen]

Prologue-New Reality Show, Must Watch!

When school was closed due to an investigation, the class was all at Alya's house to find and watch a movie or a T.V. show. They were glad that they sent Marinette away to a camp in Canada. That way, she won't hurt Lila anymore. They were all enjoying themselves until they stopped at a T.V. show that was starting.

They all look to see what show it is.

"Yo! We're coming at you live from Camp Wawanakwa! Somewhere in Muskoka, Ontario. I'm your host, Chris McLean. Dropping season one of the hottest reality show on television, right now!"

Seeing this show got their attention, so Alya dropped the remote, and they all continued to watch the intriguing reality show.

"Here's the deal. Twenty-five campers have signed up to spend eight weeks right here at this crummy old summer camp. They'll compete in challenges against each other, and then have to face judgment of their fellow campers. Every three days, one team will either win a reward or watch one of their team members walk down the Dock of Shame, take a ride on the Loser Boat, and leave Total Drama Island, for good."

"Yikes. Poor loser dude." Nino murmured.

"Their fate will be decided here, at the dramatic Campfire Ceremonies. Each week, all but one camper will receive a marshmallow. In the end, only one left will be standing and will be rewarded with cheesy tabloid fame, and a small portion which, let's face it. They'll probably blow in a week."

The kids laugh since that could be possible for that winner.

"To survive, they'll have to battle black flies, grizzly bears, disgusting camp food, and each other. Every moment will be caught on one of the hundreds of cameras situated all over the camp. Who will crumble under the pressure? Find out here, right now, on Total, Drama, Island."

The kids looked very interested in the show.

Little did they know, they were in for a big surprise.

Desc. Get to Know My OC

[parkduris]

HELLO! ! ! anth here, coming at you live, from your area! i come from the eastern timezone, he/him pronouns, and am currently twenty-six years old! i'm here to introduce you to one of my favorite people in the entire world, my son, the light of my life, park duri! he's better known simply as duri when it comes to the entertainment industry. he's a singer, songwriter-producer, model, & television personality! he's your friendly neighborhood puppy, big ol' sunshine, and much like a teddy bear. without further ado, on with the show! please like this post if you'd like to plot!

as just a friendly reminder, there will be mentions of a car accident, parental death, injury, post-traumatic stress disorder, and a few other things. however, everything will be properly tagged if you'd like to skip those parts!

duri is born on december 25th, 2000 at 9:48pm in seoul, south korea! his parents were both unmarried college students at the time of his birth, something that was completely out of the norm. but, the park and oh families never quite seemed to be normal, in some sense. they were responsible, however, and very much in love. he comes from the itaewon neighborhood of seoul.

spends a lot of time with his grandparents and family when he's really young, simply because bongju and aeri are very busy with college, and they often took the reigns of raising him in the evening and on the weekends - while doing their education and jobs, just to make sure they could fully take care of their son.

after they graduate, they wed in 2004 when duri is three years old. it's a spring wedding, right at the peak of the cherry blossom season. a time full of happiness and duri not really knowing what was going on, but he enjoyed every moment of it because he was with his parents for the majority of the ceremony. it's a nice memory, sweet for everyone in attendance.

CAR ACCIDENT TW, PARENTAL DEATH TW, INJURY TW // it's 2006, duri's five, and he's on the way to school, in the car, with his parents. it's like any spring morning, though it's a cold day like spring mornings tend to be with the winter chill still working its way out - but, it was a normal, usual morning for the park family... until it wasn't. they're struck by another car that morning and it ends up being pretty bad - taking the lives of both of his parents, duri would injure his leg, and he was the only one essentially able to be saved by a college student and other bystanders that saw it happen. // END TW.

following this, his uncle, bongki, and aunt, choa, would ultimately end up taking responsibility for duri, becoming his legal guardians. they didn't want bongju and bongki's parents or aeri's parents to have to worry about taking care of the young boy; especially with the fact that he was a handful now (more in the sense of mental and physical state.) between running the successful café and things of that nature, they would be able to care for duri, and give him the care he would so desperately need for a while.

they would make his room in that apartment above the successful café, heart and seoul, really nice, and comfortable, and give him the things that he wants; he needs. it's somewhere that becomes a safe haven, even if sometimes at night, it felt like it was anything but. but, he'll always be fond of his childhood bedroom in that apartment because of how much love his uncle and aunt had put into it.

PTSD TW, INJURY TW, ANXIETY TW // duri was a bit of a handful following the accident, simply because they couldn’t fully tell what was wrong with him, besides for the leg injury that was being cared for with physical therapy. they would soon learn that he suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder and anxiety from the accident, causing him to have to go into therapy, as well as grief counseling to help him to process everything and get better. duri, would attend therapy for many years to really help him out. though, he still has a lot of synonyms to this day of both ptsd and anxiety that seemingly won’t go away. // END TW.

INJURY TW // the injury that duri received to his leg was something that would be a bit bothersome every now and then, especially when he would overwork the leg. but, he would say it isn’t too, too bad, truth be told - he can deal with it, even though it can be really bothersome. he’s kind of just… ignored it, but physical therapy had helped and later, working out would help pretty often too. but, it’s still something that’s bothersome and he should really look after it, but he tends to just work through it, truth be told. // END TW.

when he's young, he gets super into music. it's almost out of nowhere, but he was always someone that just really liked music. so, bongki and choa - as well as the rest of the family - decided to really curate this interest of duri's. instead of going to cram school, he was going to a music and vocal academy - he'd learn piano, violin, and guitar, as well as take vocal classes. he loves it, it's all he wants to do, truth be told, it was clear he was meant to do this.

he was good at school, truth be told; he was always studying, relying on himself to do so because he wasn't attending cram school or any type of academic academies, considering he traded it for music and vocal. he was always known as the rather friendly, sweet, kind, and nice kid in school, he was friends with every person. this was something that caused duri to always be the class representative each year in school because of the fact that he got good grades, and he was friends with everyone. though, a lot of the time he was kind of walked over and used because the teachers really liked duri, so students easily got things.

duri surprises a lot of people at school, too, during a talent show when the big voice comes out of the kid who's always doing his work, the nice kid, the reliable, diligent kid. he's scouted here at the talent show, but he doesn't actually believe anyone is who they actually say they are; so, he never does anything with the scouts information.

at age fourteen, in 2015, duri opens up a youtube channel, duri's record shop. he had just gotten equipment to do this a month prior and he was really excited. he uses this channel to upload song covers, since he's just always really loves to sing, this was an outlet outside of talent shows and vocal classes. he gets channel subs and views; as well as a decent amount of comments that he answers. but, duri isn't an influencer or anything of that nature because he didn't have a consistent upload schedule.

as a teenager, he's kind of really ambitious, truth be told; he was already doing a lot. but, as a teenager is when duri gets about 6 certifications to his name. he gets level 10 certifications in piano, violin, and guitar. he achieves level 5 certifications in english and japanese as well, two languages he had been learning since he was young. as a teenager, as well, he also gets his hands on a vocal teaching certification. so, as you can see, duri's kind of always liked the adventure of learning and diving head first in those kinds of things. ambitious in some sort of sense, but he really just loved those things and he was constantly just learning them; especially when he couldn't sleep.

in october of 2017, duri uploads a brand new cover to his youtube channel. he decides to cover his all-time favorite, i will always love you by whitney houston. he did the same routine he always did, recording the song in the corner of his birthday, before editing the video on his bed on his laptop, and then uploading it. he thinks nothing of it, as he usually does, and then a week later... all of a sudden, it had blown up. he gets a bunch of comments, views, subs, and everything in between. he does his best to respond to as much as he can.

this viral hit is something that causes duri to receive a lot of people trying to scout him, love calls if you will. though he ends up accepting secret garden's offer due to the promise of debut.

he attends somewhat of a private audition with his uncle and aunt soon after accepting their offer, going through all the ropes, before signing upon the dotted line.

he's thrust into preparations for a debut as a soloist. in truth, he kind of always thought he was going to be a group member when he dreamed of this life. but, he's more than okay with being a soloist because of the type of music he'll be doing. not to mention, it's clear secret garden wanted to utilize the vocals that he holds. he debuts on january 1st, 2018 with the mini album, at gwanghwamun.

duri writes, composes, and produces all of his tracks. only about two of them are composed and produced by him, rather than written, and those are the ones that are covers of songs, rather than originals.

he's a rather strong vocalist; he's got a voice that's really made for ballads and really just power vocal songs. which is all of the songs that duri really tends to do, they stay in that realm of using his incredible vocals; which he's really happy because duri just loves to sing, and loves to really show off his voice. honestly it just really makes him happy??

luckily, with the type of music duri does as a soloist, he doesn't have to dance. which he's kind of really thankful for because he's almost kind of insecure about it? plus, he'd rather not have his leg really flare up from such movement. though, he does know a good amount of dancing and you could get him in on the tiktok challenges. but, there's really only a few times he'll actually be a dancer and all that.

duri's a very sweet guy. he's super kind, rather friendly, and can be a bit talkative. he's super bubbly, someone who kind of just giggles a lot because it's almost like it needs to get out. he's definitely charming in those type of ways; the way he's super kind, sweet, bubbly, friendly, reliable, helpful, and all that stuff. he's everything sugar, to put it simply. honestly, he's really just a soft guy!!

a bit of a crier like a lot of his emotions just come out as crying. though it's also because there's just that part of him that's a bit gloomy because of the trauma, that's neither here nor there. he definitely cried big time on every single award and stuff that he's won.

he's a happy boy, even though sometimes he has a hard time with his mental health. in a sense, he kind of masks his bad days with how he usually is, especially because he doesn't want to burden anyone with his own things.

holds the energy of a puppy, but also is the sun that's shining down. he's a super bright person. honestly, there's not one mean bone in his body, he doesn't even know the definition of being mean.

will 100% try to be your friend, not even gonna lie. he's just a real friendly guy, probably believes you're friends with him after one conversation!

his image is definitely just his own personality, truth be told. there's really no other way for duri to be. on top of being known as the sweet, bubbly, friendly, nice guy to the public - he also holds an approachability image, a born to be an idol image, as well as a good leader image.

duri lives by himself in what could probably be considered a humble apartment? it's an apartment with a loft that has one bedroom (though, it's probably in a more luxury apartment building in a sense.) however, duri's designed it to have his bedroom on the loft and he uses the bedroom as more of like an office/library and where his music stuff is. he's lived in the apartment for 5 years, and his family had paid for the apartment until he started making his own profit. he could probably get a much bigger apartment, but he's very much into his current apartment.

big time collector of cute things, he really likes cute things. so, he's got a lot of plushies and stuff like that, considering they're really just his favorite.

he's a big-time plant and flower person, so he's got a lot of plants around because he feels it brings life and greenery to a place. they make him happy.

big time book reader as well, so he's got a lot of books, and you can probably often see him reading books as well at random times. sometimes, he really just likes the quiet time and escaping into books, in some sense of it.

duri really likes playing video games that are labeled as "cozy" truth be told. so, things like animal crossing, stardew valley, etcetera. anything that's kind of relaxing, in some sense, duri is all about. that's really the only video games that he tends to know, truth be told. though, he can also really come through on fifa games as well.

he's 100% a shower singer. has full on whitney houston, beyoncé, kelly clarkson, mariah carey, celine dion, anyone who's released taeyeon songs, little mix, angelic songs, eternal songs, and various ballad concerts (of course among other songs) in the shower.

has an alcohol allergy. so, he tends to avoid anything with alcohol because of it. meaning alcohol itself (which is fine because duri is not big on nightlife at all), medication containing it, and a lot of stuff. it kills him that he has to avoid things that contain gochujang paste due to the meju-garu - aka, anything fermented is a no-go.

duri is really, really big on cooking. it's one of his favorite things to do, something that he's pretty good at. when he can, he's often just the one who cooks meals because he prefers to do something of that nature. though, of course, he doesn't get to do it as often with how busy schedules are. but, he does often crave a home-cooked meal.

one thing to note is that duri has some pretty bad claustrophobia. so, if you take an elevator with him, you might notice that he has a bit of a habit where he stands in the back corner, closing his eyes, and sings to himself when the doors close; placing his mind elsewhere to pretend he's not inside the elevator. it's probably a bit odd, but it helps.

very very gay. that's it, that's the tweet.

duri has gotten lucky with secret garden, to be honest. he's written, produced, and composed every single solo song that he's released. getting the chance to do something like this has really meant a lot to him, especially in a company like secret garden; but, he's glad he has a good relationship with the company and they've entrusted him to do. would really like to write songs for others as well in the future.

duri's done a lot of different things in his career. of course, he has his career as a soloist that's pretty successful. though, he sits at 4 in fame currently and a 2 in fandom - simply because his fandom is kind of mainly old people (whom are dedicated and spending money) and a few of the people around his age who just like his music + the variety shows he appears on. his fame kind of is really on the hands of the general public who likes his music and will watch his shows.

he's had a few osts, such as "told you so" from where stars land, "but, it's destiny" from crash landing on you, "start over" from itaewon class, and "breath" from doctor cha.

duri's also made his japanese debut in december of 2022! he wrote, composed, and produced all of the songs on the album, human (by max changmin), the cover of put your records on, he's completely composed and produced himself.

has had a few different main castings as well and some other great feats, like winning 6 times in a row on king of masked singer.

anyways, he's a good boy <3 i really, really love park duri and i love writing him sm i'm so excited :") this got way too long i'm so sorry!! but, thank you for reading this far!