#another thing that makes me a walking lesbian stereotype is my long distance relationship

[skullhaver]

It's 2021, and I'm watching Buffy for the first time.

The Virgil on my Buffy journey is my long-distance girlfriend, who has loved the show for years. We just finished season 4, and I wanted to write about my favorite episodes so far. I suspect some of my faves are beloved by most fans, but others are weird, personal picks. Buffy fandom, please don't come for me.

I thought this post would be short but I was wrong.

Hono(u)rable Mentions: "Band Candy" S3E6 and "Halloween" S2E6

Both these episodes have fun premises where the Scoobies run around Sunnydale after it was upended by zany, chaotic dark forces. "Band Candy" is fun for devil-may-care teen Giles. "Halloween" is fun for 18th-century-ditz Buffy. These are both very good, and are the sorts of episode I can imagine happily rewatching in the future. I just have more to pontificate upon for the other episodes on this list.

10. "Ted" S2E11

I can’t say I enjoyed this episode, but it did take me for a wild ride. Probably nobody else has strong feelings about this weird story where Buffy's mom dates a stereotypical cheesy family man, who turns out to be a controlling abuser, who turns out to be a robot. I remember shouting at the screen, "Did Buffy just kill a human man?? Is it okay in the moral logic of this show for Buffy to kill a human if he's a direct physical threat to her??" I knew Buffy would have deeper stories than the monster of the week formula we'd seen so far, but this early in season 2, I had no idea when or how that would happen. This was the episode that finally taught me that Buffy is largely not interested in moral ambiguity, or in exploring what it means to be good or bad. Except for season-defining exceptions like Faith and Angel, evil characters are simplistically, essentially evil. But it was wild to believe for a moment that Buffy murdered her mom's abusive boyfriend and would have to live with the consequences.

9. "Helpless" S3E12

When Buffy tries to be genuinely scary, it succeeds with aplomb. The premise of this episode is dumb and contrived ("Giles has to remove Buffy's powers without her knowledge for a seeeecret test by the Watcher's Council") but the chase and fight in this episode are some of the most tense and spooky scenes of the whole series so far. Buffy's vulnerability makes the stakes feel real in a way few other episodes manage. And Buffy's victory is all the more satisfying because she can't punch her way out of this problem, she has to be smart and creative. The fridge horror, of course, is that Giles would endanger her like this in the first place, but that gets sorted out over the emotional arc of the next few episodes.

8. "I Only Have Eyes For You." S2E19

Another spooky episode, this one a classic ghost story of forbidden love ending in murder - but with the twist that the ghosts possess people's bodies to have them reenact their final moments. I love stories about breaking a doomed-to-repeat cycle. I love weird shit like the snakes manifesting in the cafeteria. And I really loved the choice to have Buffy and Angel come to understand their feelings about their own relationship by embodying these ghosts - especially how they embodied different genders than their own to better fit the "roles" of the haunting story, thus subverting the expected pattern. I found this episode clever, poignant, and effective.

7. "Who Are You?" S4E16

"Faith and Buffy switch bodies" is a wild premise, but the real joy of "Who Are You?" is watching Sarah Michelle Geller being an extremely talented actress for 45 minutes, portraying a totally different character. Watching Faith confronted by kindness and love from Buffy's mom, Riley, and her friends, then getting launched into an existential crisis over it is so great. Also, I just dig a good church fight.

6. "Hush" S4E10

As stated above, love an episode that reminds me that these people are talented actors! Featuring demons that render all of Sunnydale unable to talk, we get to watch great physical comedy right next to tense, silent fight scenes. The visual creepiness of the Gentleman and their straight-jacketed weird little helpers is hard to beat. "Hush" is such a clever episode that it ascends monster of the week status to become almost Twilight Zone-esque. Also, for the first time, Buffy sees Riley doing his Initiative thing, and Riley sees Buffy being the Slayer, but they can't talk about it?? That's good shit.

5. "The Wish" S3E9

Both "Something Blue" and "The Wish" feel like the writers decided to use fanfic premises on their own show... so obviously I like them a lot. But getting to watch a dark timeline AU with interesting world-building and attention to detail, a hilarious and horrifying Cordelia POV, AND a smirking kinky vampire Willow? Hello?? And the fact that the Wishverse comes up again in "Doppelgänger" (another truly fun episode) only improves my opinion. I imagine this is the kind of episode fans simply love coming back to.

4. "Restless" S4E22

This David Lynch-ass dream sequence was a weird choice for a season finale, but an extremely ambitious and cool episode. I should say up front that I love David Lynch-ass dream shit. There were creative and well-executed scene transitions as characters moved seamlessly from one dream room into another. Several memorably neat shots - Willow running between endless curtains as she tries to get onstage, Buffy alone in a vast desert with a weirdly high camera angle. And I got myself all excited thinking that the First Slayer would maybe become a different kind of antagonist - maybe not even fully revealed in this episode, or maybe an Id-like aspect of Buffy herself. But I forgot Whedon gonna Whedon, so the First Slayer had to be someone Buffy could punch in the end. And the First Slayer is sadly yet another primitive-themed, emotionally-stunted character of color for this show. Most of her lines in this episode are literally voiced by a white woman speaking for her, and of all the dumb quips to make, Buffy had a line about her hair being unprofessional? Also, I'm a lesbian, so the fact that the most explicit act of intimacy between Willow and Tara this show has allowed us to see occurs in Xander's horny dream sequence... it’s unforgivable, Joss. This episode was one of my favorites ever, deeply marred by some bad writing choices.

3. "Lovers Walk" S3E8

Spike, perhaps the best non-Willow character in this show, is back in Sunnydale, a hilariously heartbroken mess of a man, hell-bent on getting his former girlfriend Drusilla back. (Drusilla left him for a fungus demon.) So Spike breaks into a magic shop to get ingredients for a love spell, where he runs into Willow, who is getting ingredients for a de-lusting spell, because she is worried she and Xander will be too thirsty to behave appropriately in public with their actual partners, Oz and Cordelia. This is a hilarious moment just to exist. This is all the episode needed to do to satisfy me. But the fact that Spike then kidnaps Willow, and it ends with tragic stakes of everyone's relationships coming apart, not to mention me genuinely thinking Cordelia was dead for a minute there - wow. Chef’s kiss. The episode is balanced shockingly well between Spike being an ominous villain, and being the sort of lovable semi-evil (more gremlin-like) side character he'll become in season 4. What a wild ride.

2. "Graduation Day" S3E21-22

I'm counting this two part season finale as one because it's my list and I'll do what I want. "Graduation Day" feels like a quintessential Buffy episode executed to perfection. It has Buffy reaffirming her position as a moral heroine, sacrificing her own blood to save Angel's life even when she thought she had to kill Faith to save him. It has Buffy and Faith (or Buffy/Faith, as I prefer to think of them) getting to square off in a dramatic, tough fight. It has a lot of Mayor Wilkins, a character I truly adore for some reason. Nothing like a public administrator who plays mini golf in his office, wants you to chew with your mouth closed, and will kill a graduating class of high schoolers to gain immortality. The catharsis of the whole school getting to fight back against evil, instead of just Buffy against the world - a real joy. This episode misses the top spot for two reasons. "A special vampire poison and the only cure is the blood of a Slayer" is too contrived for me to let slide, and also I had to see Cordelia and Wesley kiss.

1. "Becoming" S2E21-22

Buffy’s season finales really do have good stories and satisfying payoff. First off, Buffy starts this episode by punching a cop and fleeing from the law. Later, Spike also punches a cop. A.k.a., Buffy said blue lives don't matter. Second - I haven't gotten a chance to comment on this yet, but all throughout season 2, evil Angel is such a joy to watch. As regular Angel, David Boreanaz makes exactly one face ("I am a kicked, angsty puppy") and bless his heart, it gets so tiresome. As evil Angel, he is so expressive, dynamic and terrifyingly creative in his badness. And I love his weird threesome energy with Spike and Drusilla. But also, it's so hard to watch Buffy suffer as she deals with her evil boyfriend doing evil things. Her ultimate choice in this episode, to kill Angel even as Willow's spell restores his soul, gave me some real big feels! Also, this episode marks the first moment of Willow doing big, plot-shifting magic on her own, solidifying her transformation from computer nerd to witch! 

Also, shout-out to the many good smaller moments in this episode: Spike making awkward small talk with Buffy's mom, Buffy constantly dunking on Principle Snyder, and Giles being tortured by visions of Miss Calendar (RIP Miss Calendar, I was your biggest fan.)

"Becoming" is an excellent season finale and the kind of Buffy episode I imagine I will want to re-watch in the future just for nostalgia's sake.

[kindrednerdspirit]

Sometimes A Thing Feels so Right: Part 3

Excerpt: In her fantasy, her lips brush against Newton’s earlobe before she whispers in front of the entire track team, “Now, let me help you dry off.” The thought alone makes Iz wet. She imagines herself gently pressing her thumb underneath Newton’s lips and pulling down just enough for them to part.

Sunday. Izzie returns home after going for a run.

Izzie jogs up the stairs to her front door and stops at the sound of a man’s voice.

“Where does she go?” He asks.

Is that Steve? She hesitates.

Izzie’s mum replies, “Mum and dad say that she spends a lot of time with another girl on the track team.”

“So she spends a lot of time with her friend. Sounds like normal teenager stuff to me.”

“No, no… like too much time together and she’s only briefly dated one guy.”

“So what? You think she’s a dyke?”

Izzie sucks in a quick breath at the word “dyke,” but continues hovering at the door.

“Maybe? She doesn’t look or dress like one, though.”

Nope, she doesn’t want to hear anymore of this conversation. Iz shoves open the door and glares into the living room, where Steve and mer mum are sitting on the couch. “Enlighten me. How exactly does a dyke look and dress?”

“Oh my God!” Her mum cries, clearly startled. “You scared me! Don’t sneak around listening to private conversations!”

“If I could actually count on you to be here, then I wouldn’t assume you were out and I wouldn’t accidentally hear your so-called private conversations!”

“Get out!” Her mum bellows.

“You don’t have to tell me twice!”

Izzie storms into her room. Her mind is racing, bouncing from her mum’s addiction, to coming to terms with her queer identity, to feeling lonely, to Newton. The only thing that’s clear is her need for space--space between her and this house. She starts grabbing clothes out of her dresser and cramming them in an overnight bag. Maybe she can go to her grandparents’ place. Despite knowing she needs distance, the familiar twinge of guilt for leaving Jason, Alysha, and Arya creeps up. 

Jase will be fine, right? He has a phone to call her in case of emergencies. It’s just one night. You’re not mum. Iz repeats the last two sentences in her head as she continues packing.

Tears stream down her face as she puts her homework and textbooks into her backpack. Iz is many emotions right now, but she’s mostly frustrated with herself. After all, why does she care what her mum thinks about gay people? Logically, she shouldn’t, but she’s livid as she thinks about her mum’s ignorant words. What did a lesbian look like, exactly? Butch, apparently. As if all queer girls looked the same.

She wants to kiss Alysha and Arya goodbye but she looks like a mess with her red, puffy eyes. No need to make them worry about her. She won’t be gone long, anyway. With a deep breath, Iz prepares herself to walk past her mum on her way out the front door. As she passes the doorframe to the living room, however, she cannot help but yell at the two sorry excuses for adults. Her mum is now standing, arguing with Steve, whose butt is still parked on the couch.

“You know what’s the most annoying part of you being back? You don’t make things easier! I worry and stress just as much as when you’re gone.” Izzie slams the door behind her and rushes down the concrete stairs to the front lawn. It’s awkward running with a backpack, but she needs the physical distance immediately, so she jogs until the end of the block. As she slows to a walk, she pulls out her phone and texts Jason.

Going to grandma and grandpa’s for the night. Say goodnight to the girls for me xx.

All Iz wants is to vent to Casey about her mum’s tone and judgment toward even the idea that she could be queer. Not to mention her presence in general. New topic. Think happy thoughts. The memory of bonding with Newton in Coach’s office comes to mind. She remembers feeling so happy that Newton wasn’t a spoiled rich kid like everyone else. That she also felt a need to be perfect all the time. It was the first time since her mum started using that Izzie didn’t feel alone. These days, however, thinking of Newton quickly gets depressing, so Iz takes out her headphones and listens to “The Look” by Metronomy. In an attempt to further distract herself, she concentrates on the lyrics.

Get up and we get down

We’re always running around this town

And to think they said

We’d never make anything better than this

Cause we’re always in small circles

And everyone thinks we’re trouble

We didn’t read it in the big book

And now we’re giving you the look look...

This town’s the oldest friend of mine

Sometimes when she listens to a song, she likes to imagine a story that goes along with it. Izzie pictures a woman driving around town with her girlfriend. The “small circles” are small town people gossiping about them, like townsfolk do, speculating about their relationship as the two live their lives. And like any stereotypical small community, the townies are narrow minded in their beliefs, believing that queer relationships are “trouble,” because the “big book” says so. Iz rolls her eyes at the thought, counting herself lucky to not be the woman in the song, until she hears “this town’s the oldest friend of mine.” The woman wants the town’s approval! She, by all means, is aware that they’re backwards, yet she still wants their acceptance.

Iz groans. Her attempt at distracting herself from Newton is failing miserably. Now, all she can think of is her own life in relation to the character in the song. How is she any different? She’s essentially surrounded herself with friends that don’t know who she really is, like Harmony and Scarlet. What’s the point in hiding her true self? Who cares what her friends think? Who cares what her mum thinks? Who cares what strangers think? Because at the end of the day, the only people that matter in her life are her siblings, grandparents, and Newton. And she pushed Newton away. She tried convincing herself that less connections at Clayton Prep meant flying under the radar, and flying under the radar meant more focus on track. It was her big chance to get into UCLA! Ironically, though, she felt even less focussed, because she was unhappy.

Evan was right. Newton chose her. The worst that could happen was happening right now--Newton wasn’t in her life. Period. End of story. It didn’t get worse than this, so Iz might as well try to make amends and go public. She had nothing to lose. That is, if Newton would take her back.

Monday, first block. Izzie’s perspective

The next morning, Izzie leaves her grandparents’ place with extra food in her lunch (an apple and sandwich that her grandma insisted she take) and a fire in her eyes, because today is the day she gets Newton back.

Izzie has decided to talk to Casey during track practice, since they share their first block. No sign of her, yet, as she puts on her sneakers, Adidas shorts, and a clean t-shirt in the locker room. She hustles toward the field, quickly spotting Casey stretching with the other girls on the team. Iz stretches on her own, her lips pressed together. Things are not going according to plan, because she was hoping for a private talk.

Sixty minutes go by of Izzie watching Newton. Her heart pounds from the anticipation of their conversation. Oh, and the small fact that she’s insanely hot. Casey slows down to a trot after sprinting the 200 metre. She’s overheating, so she splashes water on her face to cool down. Iz enjoys watching the droplets trickle down her face and over her lips. Calm yourself. Stop thinking about how you want to help her dry off. The braver version of herself would march over and loudly declare, “I love you.” Newton would then give a reciprocal answer, pathing the way for Brave Izzie to lean in. In her fantasy, her lips brush against Newton’s earlobe before she whispers in front of the entire track team, “Now, let me help you dry off.” 

The thought alone makes Iz wet. She imagines herself gently pressing her thumb underneath Newton’s lips and pulling down just enough for them to part. Newton’s breathing quickens. Izzie wants to tease, so she hovers centimetres from her mouth, making her wait. It’s hot watching Newton untangle, simply because she wants her. Newton swallows, quing Iz to finally nibble her lip. It’s a drawn-out nibble, as she gently pulls her lip back with her teeth and releases it. To Izzie’s delight, Newton quietly moans. Meanwhile, anyone on the track team who was previously unaware of their own sexuality has a much better idea of what team(s) they play for.

Iz is a hot mess by the time Coach blows the whistle, signalling the end of class. The girls begin walking back to the locker room in a large swarm.

Fuck it. Izzie thinks. I cannot wait any longer.

“Yo, Newton! Wait up!” She calls while jogging behind her.

Casey ignores her, continuing her conversation with another team mate. “Newton. Stop, please.” Iz is now beside her, making it very difficult to avoid a conversation. It all happens so fast. Before Iz realizes what is happening, Casey turns on her heel and looks at her with cold eyes. “I don’t know how to make this more clear. I don’t want to talk to you.” Her voice trembles and Iz swears she sees her shaking.

“I--” Iz is taken off guard. This is not going according to plan.

“Please, don’t follow me.” The way Casey pleads in a quiet but firm tone hits Izzie hard. She hesitates, wanting to respect the boundary, but desperately needing to share her feelings. Her hesitation ends up being too long, because the moment escapes her, along with Newton. She watches her moment walk the rest of the field and open the locker room door, then disappear.

Izzie stands, rejected, near the end of the bleachers. A familiar voice startles her out of her thoughts.

“Ouch. That was rough.”

Mel?

Izzie peers up at her new, potential friend who’s currently sitting on the bleachers with a notebook and a pen. She’s dressed in a long-sleeved black shirt that’s tucked into dark red corduroy pants with Doc Martens. Her long, wavy brown hair is tousled around her black glasses that frame her face.

Izzie feels annoyed from the rejection, the failed plan, Mel’s nosiness--all of it. “What are you doing here?” She asks, rather pointedly with an arched eyebrow.

“Working on my English essay.”

Iz grunts and folds her arms. “How much did you see, exactly?”

“Everything.” Mel sticks her hand into the bag of Doritos next to her and munches on the chips. “What’s your end goal?”

“With what?”

“Casey. You like her, right?”

Izzie’s heart quickens. “Yeah… how do you know?”

Mel shrugs. “Gaydar.”

Iz studies Mel before speaking. “How do you get good gaydar?”

“After you like girls for long enough, you just know when a girl likes another girl.”

Izzie feels herself relax as her defensiveness fades away. “Maybe you can give me some pointers some time.”

“What am I? Your lesbian guru?” A smirk spreads across Mel’s face.

Izzie laughs loudly. It feels good! She cannot remember the last time she laughed so hard. “Sure, why not?”

“I hate to break it to you, but I haven’t dated a girl before, so I’m going to be a really shitty gay guru.”

Mel’s honesty somewhat surprises Izzie, but because this quality is currently lacking in her life, it’s refreshing. “I’d rather have a shitty gay guru than none at all.”

The girls laugh. Iz doesn’t want to leave, but UCLA keeps her from playing hookie. “I should go to class, but I’ll see you at student council later.” She hasn’t given up on Newton--not even close. Izzie respects Newton enough to leave her alone if that’s what she truly wants, but not before letting her know she's done hiding herself from the world.

“See you.” Mel goes back to her writing with a grin on her face. And how could she not be smiling? After all, Clayton Prep just got a little more gay.

[lovedinapastlife]

Riverdale 3x16 - BIG FUN

BUGHEAD IS BEAUTIFUL~

Oh damn this episode is surreal in a way I’m not entirely comfortable with. But it’s exciting! Everyone’s looking forward to moving on from the craziness of dead bodies, breakups, and…drug trades. Amidst college and running businesses and stuff. Obviously. Normal high school stuff. Kinda reminds me of the nostalgia for season one.

Was the opening Mr. Musical Theater’s big number? Shucks, I wanted more of a sampling. This was mostly talk-singing, which…I’ll take. Kinda like the awkward rocking in the hallway haha.

Lili wearing green makes her eyes pop and my heart go poof. Similarly to Jughead’s adoring fuzzy feelings, I’m sure. DANG. They’re in HIS room now. Are they staying together?! Yay!

Aw I kinda like the idea that Betty and V would help Cheryl look and feel her best after being tossed over (ish)

I love the intros. “Bro it up. Two single straight dudes” like wow.

Chainsaw line is iconic, especially when moving to cut to the title. You think Kevin was subtly trying to dig at Cheryl for forcing him to cater to her?

LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR - another theme of this season

Betty rolling her eyes is amazing.

I love that the girls choreo’d their own fanciness. I liked Cheryl’s batch better but tbh I didn’t enjoy the dance-off and it’s hair-whip noises. Maybe it was so hyped in the behind-the-scenes videos that I found myself cringing at the octopus moves? And Toni’s batch wasn’t in sync so it was that much more awkward to watch. But I did love the “SHUT UP, TONI!” and look B+V exchanged afterwards. Yeah just gonna say up front this episode react is probably not gonna sit well with Toni stans.

Hiram dropping dramatic family stuff and racking up a bill at the Five Seasons. Who would’ve thought he’d be the one to instigate that divorce, right? Veronica cries almost disturbingly well. I’m not sure why she’d want them to be together after the assassination attempts and affairs and general shenanigans, but hey—it’s Riverdale.

Oh god is Betty the only one who notices the death-blue drinks and scary Gargoyle Pig person? These kids are stupid. I did catch Sweet Pea/JD with his slurpee which made me happy. FREEZE YOUR BRAAAAAIN~ Judge away the whole party, Betty. They tend not to be great luck in this town.

“Brainiac?!” Did she just call Reggie that?! HA. Oh geez I hate Evelyn (but I love her flouncy scrunchie and graphic shirts) and I hate Kevin and their stupid cult and drugs. Why can’t brownies ever be normal on a teen show?! Also, HI MIDGE!

I do love the idea of throwing a party to take ownership of Sisters of Quiet Mercy. If only it wasn’t so cult-y. Why are there people in swimsuits in the drowning tub while Archie jumps over them? Also, drugged-up dancing got some good Kevin hip waggles and some yikes s1 arrogant Reggie vibes. But Veggie is on again for 30 seconds? Okay then.

Jughead eating in the background as Betty side-eyes the circle share is such a glorious mood. Aw and then hugs for V. I am LOVING this side-eye mood. How did people not know Archosie was happening when they were always in the practice room, at each other’s houses, and walking in the halls together? So much awkward is happening that the cringe levels are through the roof. Kevin’s hand on his heart was so over-the-top. I kinda loved it? And I’m surprised V didn’t have more of a reaction to the Archie stuff, tbh, even if she’s got bigger things on her mind.

Oh no Toni’s got a solo and it’s here for the color of blood. Literally. Is she pointing at their crotches? Ugh her stripping musical threesome was so insulting it made my stomach churn. They just tried to make it seem like Sweet Pea wants something deep and yet he’s ready for a random hookup again? Peaches hasn’t even had any lines or anything to do but stand around looking smug. They’re trying so hard to make Toni sexy and it’s just feeding the lesbian/bisexual slutty stereotype. Can this show do hookups? Ever? There’s been no sexual/attraction buildup to this “threesome” (honestly Toni hasn’t even been a good friend to SP lately) and there was no fallout afterwards either! She was just like, “COME STRIP ONSTAGE WITH ME and this other person you’ve never talked to but beat the shit out of you one time. Oh wait no I’m good with my clingy yet complimentary ghost gf, you two have fun byeeeee”

Jughead and Betty flirting makes me feel slightly better

OH GOD NO KANGS. At this point the bile I’d been suppressing was legit in my throat. Like, why does attraction/love have to be tied to something awful 90% of the time in this show? Kevin and Fangs could’ve been a cute couple if they built up their connection beyond two lines over the course of two seasons. But no. Cult psychedelic weirdness over Midge, just like Moose and Kevin. Maybe even over Joaquin. DO WE NOT LEARN? I’m not even gonna start with the Farmies.

Archosie scene. Fun spin dance, but I still think they’re cute paper cutouts of nothingness at this stage.

Oh, of COURSE Weatherbee joined a cult. Loser.

I love Cheryl’s Heather Chandler vibe and scrunchie. Good call about making Toni test the tea for poison. Aw, I kinda wanted to see Ghost!JJ.

I have basically a folder full of stills of this scene and narrowed it down to these. Aw baby Jug, Betty understands better than anyone what he’s going through. When Betty was trying to get Jughead to look at her I legit felt emotional. And then they were beautiful. Forever. WE FINALLY GOT THEM DANCING! Oh and on his knees! Proposal vibes! I might’ve watched this scene EIGHT BILLION times for the eyes and hands and general endless soulmate love vibes. Like, this scene made the episode for me. They were so emotional and invested and harmonized like angels and I needed that in my life so thank you, universe. I hope Cole and Lili get to do amazing scenes like this together in the future because it was beautiful.

Ch*ni kinda interrupted my mains with their totally different vibe and zero choreography, even though they did sound lovely. Neither of them have changed their behavior to make their relationship work internally, whereas Bughead are sick of the external forces of the town trying to destroy their childhood icons/innocence and bonding over their love for each other despite their familial madness. I need a Bughead exclusive soulmates cut. Thank you.

Haha um...I think closing the drug lab in general would be good? Maybe not during the musical when Betty might be vulnerable again (and the rest of Riverdale) but hey...it’s entirely possible it’s emotional and not logical of me to say that ;) Sheriff FP seems extremely unbothered by mobile drug labs in town so why should we be, right?

HIRAM! SAY IT LIKE IT IS! I love that he called out Veronica’s shock over Hermione trying to have him killed. Twice. How rude.

I actually really liked Cami’s interpretation of “Lifeboat.” It’s pretty, but I’m not sure it added much to her story? Same with her attempt to have her parents go to opening night together. Maybe that song is more of an overarching theme for her story this season. Ish? But she also distances herself from people? Mehhhh overanalyzing Riverdale hurts my brain. And then her ploy to have one last happy memory is just them not looking or talking at each other and she feels worse. Ouch.

Why is there so much old stereo equipment in their house? I know they worked at a garage/scrapyard, but I didn’t see any speakers? I care too much about set dressings but whatever. Poor FP is dealing with hazards of being on the job. Gladys had hilarious delivery like, “Oh nooooo. Drugs. That’s terrible.” Also, she’s totally drinking beer in front of him, a recovering alcoholic. Classy. And also telling. Jughead and Betty are just side-eyeing in the background.

Did Cheryl send herself all those roses?! XD I did think the “blot” moment was cute but I still don’t understand what’s changed. I don’t even know if Veggie is a thing. Probably not. Okay then. Did love Reggie looking in the handheld mirror totally in-character though.

I KNEW THEY’D BURN THE PLACE DOWN ONE DAY! Omg the puns. The fire extinguisher. The kiss—oh oh my. Arson and tender body touching. All right. I’m down. Do they have a car now? Is Bughead gonna live in it? I cannot handle their passion in the best way possible.

The finale choreography was terrible. Oh my god was that cringe. I mean, couldn’t we at least get them looking at each other for a sec like the adorable Bughead moment of holding hands? Or someone helping V when looking at her parents? I get that they’re entreating the audience to be better (like Betty’s speech a billion years ago), but it didn’t hit the mark with me for some reason. My expression was mostly a mix of the Jones’. Was it just me, or did everyone onstage look like they were in some range of pretending really hard not to feel uncomfortable?

HI CHAD! The cult is terrifying. Also, if all the psychos are there, why aren’t Alice and Polly in attendance? The woooooorst. Was no one else inclined to clap like a normal person? Evelyn in general was interesting, trying to earn her father’s approval and everyone’s trust, but it’s usually so messed up on drugs and stuff that I don’t quite enjoy her scenes. Everything with the Farm is usually deferred, which annoys me, but we’ll get our answers soon, I’m sure. I want more Chad. I’m curious if the buildup is gonna pay off ^-^

And people are going through windows next time?

I really wanted the “hell” line from Heathers when Bughead came back from burning stuff down but I will live. Okay. Put our bids in for next season’s musical now and how long it’s gonna take us to get a promise/engagement ring on Bughead. Thank you.

[dasklaus]

Big wall of text incoming.

This is going to be my first text post on tumblr.

Originally, this was a porn blog. I guess I'm just not that into porn. This is a feelings-dump because I currently have an excess of feelings.

I never talked much about trans issues, least of all about my own. Like many, I keep thinking I'm fake, not trans enough or just weird. That's what I tell people, too: don't mind the male name, I'm just weird about gender. Don't worry about it. I minimize being trans all the time - then again, I truly don't think about it that often. It seeps into my life in small ways, rarely big ones, and I can easily overlook it, distract myself, pretend it's not happening. It's why I haven't transitioned yet.

When I was a kid, I had bigger problems. I had difficulties forming connections with people - still have, to be honest - while desperately wishing for friends - still do, to be honest. I was bullied to varying degrees, changed schools a lot, and regularly got beaten by my older brother while my helpless parents had long patient talks with both of us that didn't change anything ever except made it clear to me that talks were supposed to help but the nice, peaceful environment I lived in just manifested in unusual ways or I just failed to experience it as peaceful. To not turn this into a sob story: I was, in hindsight, really bad at interacting with other kids (in the sense of being an ignorant, arrogant asshole) and didn't take any initiative in solving my own problems, expecting my nice, peaceful environment to manifest itself somehow.

I was raised pretty gender-neutral. My clothes were blue, I waded in lego and books and while I tried to get hobbies like the cool kids did, nothing stuck. As I didn't connect to others naturally and felt a profound otherness (which I mostly attribute to my poor yet snobbish upbringing, my giftedness and - arguably more importantly - my knowing about it), I tended to look for ways to be special, to not do the mainstream thing because I was different, therefore had to do everything differently. When my parents let me choose an instrument to learn I chose drums. Impracticability and long waiting lists took this off the table, so I went for harp. I have no idea what I was thinking.

Being trans feels like that: like a bad choice based on a childish way of looking at myself, on not knowing how to present myself. Like making things weirder for myself on purpose.

I didn't have any clear signs of tomboyishness. I was shy, prone to anger and despair, relentless argueing and both a huge slob and a lover of lists. This is, as far as I can tell, the whole picture - no hidden dreams or interests that put me clearly on the feminine or masculine side of how one might expect a child with strong gender expressions to behave. Gender expressions I did not do.

I vividly remember a neighbourhood friend (the only one that I had and that I adored and looked down on all at once) asking which super power I would like if I were to choose. I went for switching sex at will. Nowadays I'd probably say shape-shifting, but back then, while a lot of things seemed neat, they only appealed to me for money or fame (or advancing science - this was a factor in my appraisal process). This one was the one I wanted for myself, that I would still want even if I had to keep it a secret. This is the only memory I have that tells me something might've been up even way back.

There were some indicators later on that I use to reassure myself. I wanted to go as a man for Fasching (a yearly costume party at school in February) in seventh grade, did, and was mistaken for Charly Chaplin most of the day. There were girls dressed as cowboys, male superheroes and actually Charly Chaplin, and my feelings of specialness faded away, replaced with shame at my generic costume and bitter envy for the people who didn't seem to make anything out of wanting to be boys sometimes.

In eight grade, I started hanging out with the sixth-grade boys, who were closer in age to me, as I started school at five instead of six or seven. Among those kids, a favourite past-time was a kind of wrestling done sitting cross-legged on the ground, both fighters trying to wrestle the other one to the ground. I loved it. Physical contact in general made me nervous, but I took to consensual violence with ease. Being one of the boys, even just for short periods of time, was the best feeling I got out of that time. I changed schools not long after.

I also developed a malformed spine by hiding my growing breasts. I started to hate my body in a way that I had no way of ever fixing.

We went for an excursion to a LGBT resource center. I got hung up on the question of lesbian sex, having started entertaining penis-in-vagina type of fantasies recently that pointedly omitted my own body or presence but were abstract, voyeuristic in nature. Nothing I could imagine girls doing compared to the coming simultaneously while getting physically wrapped up in each other I envisioned. Nonetheless, when asked to sort ourselves into corners of the room based on things like whether or not we've ever been in love (I had not), wanted to have kids (I did, the idea being that I'd live with lots of self-made playmates who all loved me by design) or whether or not we could possibly see ourselves being anything other than hetero, I felt queer. Not necessarily attracted to girls, but queer. I don't remember if I dared go into the queer corner, or whether anyone else did.

In ninth grade, I both fell in love and got a new name. She was the prettiest girl in the world by far, all eyebrows and carefully cultivated elegance, a dark lady of profound thought and inspiration and style, older and wiser and cleverer than I could ever hope to become. I learned her time-table to randomly bump into her between classes, changed my elective course from physics to math to share a class with her and worshipped the ground she walked on. I had a mutual friend tell her about my feelings after she went for a year abroad to the US, to enable her to reject me from a safe distance, which she, of course, did.

My name got discovered in a wallet a classmate won at a biology competition. I've been telling this story for years but recently discovered it was false - the dummy license in it had the last name I chose as my pseudonym on it, but a different first name. I must have chosen that independently. I made my class call me that (male) first name, and even got some teachers on board. A kid in a parallel class we had some course I don't remember with asked me (once, but loudly) whether I'd have surgery. I confidently told him I would as soon as I was eighteen, four years down the line.

The catch is that, while this became common knowledge among the students, I never told anyone. I have, to this day, never actually explicitely come out as trans. I introduced myself with my chosen name, asking not to worry about it. I evaded the rare follow-up question about what it meant. I expressed discomfort at being grouped with girls, having finally found my place among the guys at the new school (if you want a number, my sixth one. Explaining that would take another post of this length). I never talked to my parents, though, nor a doctor. I never said "I want to be a guy" or "I am a guy", I just tried to be a guy best I could - not an especially macho or stereotypical guy, either, just a guy.

That year, we actually watched a documentary at school about trans people. The only thing I remember is a group of fat bearded men sitting around a table and one of them saying he wished he'd have known about this treatment and all this when he was fourteen. That struck a chord. Here I was, fourteen, and now I knew.

Knowing didn't help one bit.

Not knowing what to say, to whom, and how to say it, rightfully suspecting that the people around me didn't know any more than me, I wrote a letter to EMMA, a feminist publication we got at home. I figured they'd know stuff about sex and gender and what to do. They told me to wait and (I told them a bit about myself, including my love for astronomy) that girls can be astronauts, too. While I know fully well that this was meant well, it shattered my hopes of insight and qualified help. I didn't reach out again for more than ten years, when I finally applied for a legal name change (a process that took over four years but got approved recently).

In tenth grade, I developed a crush on a guy. As a large part of my legitimacy in my mind hinged on my attraction to women (the one women I was still very much attracted to simultaneously), this was a problem for me. Still, I made the effort of knocking on his door, stammer out some feelings and getting politely rejected, never having expected anything else.

I found an article about trans men in a magazine. Some were said to help themselves prior to hormonal transition with excessive exercising and anabolic drugs prescribed by their doctor. The next day, I went to the nearest pharmacy and asked for anabolics. The pharmacist took in my fourteen year old weak and tiny physique and started laughing so hard she could not talk. I left red-faced and have never since set foot in that pharmacy again, even though it's the one closest to my home.

Lots of things happened in the following years. After school, I kept the name on the internet and some circles, but didn't dare it in others. I became clinically depressed, mostly for isolation reasons and being generally broken, weird, particular and incompatible with many aspects of adult or even teenager life. I took years working out how to be a person, a work in progress that is less obvious nowadays and much easier, but still there. When the occasional trans thoughts and semi-annually late-night ftm research binges didn't disappear even when I got myself a bit more together, into a successful "hetero" relationship (my first and to this day only LTR) and into friendships who exclusively knew me under my birth name, I felt the growing need to do something about that. I started using my male name with new people and workplaces again. I applied for a name change, which required several visits with psychiatric experts, to whom I lied about my boyfriend, fearing his existence and hetero-ness would influence the verdict, but nothing else.

Being with a hetero man led me to consider hormone treatment as a far-away possibility at best, not for here and now in any case. Fear of being alone again and fear of making myself effectively undateable for no practical gain, fear of regret and fear of the irreversibility of some of the changes made me procrastinate and ignore the issue of where to go from here, long-term.

Now my name is approved, I feel none of the ambiguity and doubt I expected. I spent two weeks feeling nothing but happy about it, showing off my new ID at every opportunity, booking tickets in my new name, informing boss and colleagues, changing my email signature at work and not regretting anything at all. And I think to myself: onto the next step.

Which brings me to today. My euphoria made me call the clinic and make an appointment for hormone treatment (having gotten the necessary info from the experts mentioned earlier). More than a week later, I finally told my boyfriend, who has, so far, steadily ignored any and all gender issues, not caring and feeling enlightened for not caring. And he cannot imagine staying with me through this. And I cannot fault him for feeling that way.

I love him. Being in an open relationship, I'm free to love others, too, which one might think makes it easier, but it doesn't. He is not replaceable. To make matters worse, I just got rejected from the only person that ever made me consider breaking the rules of our open relationship, which hurts hurts hurts like hell but is not something I can really bitch about because I already have someone and wanting someone else is just greedy. We - my partner and I - had plans to marry (now legally a civil union in our case) (he has the prettiest last name in the world, also I want to be with him forever, also taxes and insurance).

I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a woman.

There is no solution here.

What I really need right now is cuddles and for someone to tell me it will be alright, but I suspect it won't. I don't know how to deal with this.

Thanks for reading.