#this is pure defense of buffy

[angelthemanspanker]

If Buffy found out Angel kicked out Connor she would also be told why and, I think, maybe cut Angel some slack. I don't believe Angel throwing out Connor was, in fact, the same as Joyce throwing out Buffy. There is a quick, easy-to-miss scene towards the end of Angel season 3 that supports this viewpoint, one where Connor throws Angel in the ocean in a box with the intention of leaving him there forever to shrivel up in eternal agony and insanity

Now Buffy might have done that to Joyce at some point tbf it's been a while since I watched the high school seasons but I feel like maybe there's a difference between removing your extremely strong and dangerous son, who tried to put you in the Torture Nexus last time you saw him/the surface world, from your home (AND with an important "You can't be here yet" attached), and telling your daughter that if she leaves she can never come back because you demanded an explanation and then refused to accept the truthful one she gave you even though she's saying she slays vampires and thirty seconds ago you saw her slay a vampire.

Just because two scenes would look real symmetrical if you put a few lines out of context next to each other in a gifset does not the same thing make

[evieelyzabethh]

Sugar and Spike

pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader

summary: after a night of patrol goes wrong, Spike starts noticing some changes in himself, mainly that Buffy's sweetest friend won't leave his mind and that she would never look at him the same if she knew what he wanted to do to her.

warnings: smut!!! a smidge of yandereness, kinda a sex or die fic, possessive spike, handjob, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral (fem receiving), praise kink, biting/marking (mentions of blood), a little bit of spanking, overstimulation, riding, fingering, veryyy little plot, and I think thats about it.

In hindsight, they should've kept a better eye on him. It was an odd night of patrolling, the usual gaggle of vampires being a demon or two this time around. Big tall thing that appeared out of nowhere and left as soon as it came. Spike, always with little regard for the consequences of his actions, ran right in. Ran so hard he went right through the demon as it went into smoke. He breathed it in before going into a coughing fit, as if he could feel it in his nose and lungs, spreading in his chest like a vine that pulled everything impossible tight before releasing him like he was never in its grasp . Red flag one.

It fell on him like rain, some clumping into what looked like pink sparkles in his hair, on his jacket, his worn boots. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling away expecting to see it gunked together, but there was nothing there. It felt like his hair had been hit by my mist, slightly damp and cool. It seeped into his exposed skin, adhering itself into a pink sheen which also disappeared after only a few minutes. He remembered trying to brush it off, expecting it to feel wet but it was just slick. It was admittedly infuriating, especially since the feeling wouldn't go away. Red flag two.

“Buffy!” He shouted, rubbing his hands on his jeans as if it was going to wipe away the phantom feeling, but his complaints were met with apathy. 

“There’s nothing there, Spike.” A groan bubbled in his chest. 

“Astute observation, Slayer, but it feels like something’s there.” You were there beside him, something that would’ve gone unnoticed had he not been hit with your scent as your fingers brushed against his hand. He pulled away quickly out of instinct, not as subtle as he would’ve liked to because you noticed and scampered off in between Buffy and Giles. The distance between you and him got larger and the two of you talked about a mall trip you had planned and Willow was the only one to stick with him. She humored him, allowing him to shower at her place and taking a sample of skin only to find nothing. No residue, nothing abnormal, nothing had changed at all. Red flag three.

But he was sure it was fine. Nothing had really changed. You had been a bit cautious though.

You were prone to worrying, and he couldn't blame you. There was a lot to worry about when your best friends hunted demons and one of them was a literal creature of the night. You worried about Buffy so much he genuinely feared you would collapse from all the stress you put yourself under. Pursuing a nursing degree so they could avoid hospital visits unless absolutely necessary because none of you had the money. Having him train you in basic self-defense because you hated feeling like dead weight. You took up Latin and all of the other dead languages in those old dusty books just so you could be useful. You tied yourself in knots just to be sweet. God, you were so sweet. Even to your own detriment, like pure sugar that was going to rot his teeth eventually.

The more time you spent together, the more the rot seemed to take his brain than his teeth. His mouth never got anywhere near you; Buffy made sure of that. He wished he could say it was because she was babying you too much, that you were also tired of Buffy making Spike seem like the biggest mistake you could ever make. To be fair, he hardly knew you. He knew of you; he knew of the pink wardrobe and the fluffy socks and the pretty shoes. He knew of you as Buffy's cute neighbor who stopped by so often that you might as well live with them. You weren't being a baby, you were being cautious, even more now. He almost wished you didn't believe him as much as you did, maybe you'd keep visiting him. He hadn't seen you in days and it was really starting to take a toll on him. His leg bounced and he got in the bad habit of biting his nails, which was starting to get annoying with how often he had to repaint them.

If you were here, you would repaint them. You would sit your pretty self on his busted couch, and you'd have a little bag with you with all your pins and charms that jingled like the earrings that dangle from your ears. In your bag would be at least three shades of pink, a range of blacks and greys, and a wild card or two, maybe a blue or a green. You'd let him pick his color, despite knowing he always went for black. You asked anyway, just in case he decided to go with pink just to humor you. Had you walked through right now, he would've obliged. He would've done anything you asked him too. It wasn't even that he was lonely, but it was getting to suffocate in here. It was getting hot, like a fire was spreading. Each breath felt smoke filled, his skin was on fire, his skin was getting damp, like the dust had fallen again. His hand was shaky as he put a cigarette between his lips and lit it, surely the smell would break him out of what had to be a daze.

If you were here, you'd make a joke about him needing to air the place out. He'd probably open the door and call that enough air, but he liked his privacy, and he didn't like the idea of anyone just being able to waltz right in. You would want to make a joke about no one wanting to visit him, but you’d bite your tongue at the fear of being too harsh. You always got that look in your eye when you thought something that could be misconstrued as mean. You took your lip into your teeth and your pretty eyelashes flitted and you looked away. He thought about what it would be like to bite your lips, wanting to see what they looked like, all red and even prettier than they were before. Just a taste, that's all he wanted, a taste.

He got up to open up the door only for that phantom feeling to return. All over his body, it felt like he had stepped out into the sun, like every molecule that made up his body was vibrating and mere seconds from combusting. His breathing got ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his brain going into overdrive. He squeezed his eyes shut as if it would make it go away, but even from behind his eyelids, you were there. The idea of you, your smile, your laughter, fuck the very way you said his name. It sounded so nice coming from you. 

The way you said it when he got injured in a fight when you would patch up his wounds and have a bag of blood for him to replace what he lost. “Spike.” you would say. Like he should’ve known better than to just throw himself into danger. Not even bothering to consider the possibility that he did it to look heroic, or maybe in your care with your hands over his chest. There’s no reason for him to be this beaten and bruised from some baby vamp; William the Bloody. Spike? He had pride, but not as much as Angelus. It was easily quenched by the fact that he was in no way losing with your delicate hands tracing over faded scars on his chest and feeding him blood while they were just dust. 

“Spike.” Buffy would say, her tone laced with less concern and more disapproval. She knew something was up. After all they had gone through together, vampires should’ve been nothing for him. He had to space out his “fuck ups” just to get her off his back, just to get her voice out of his head. She didn’t say his name like you did. 

There wasn’t much better than how you said his name when it was just the two of you. Being together in his crypt, sometimes in your own bedroom which you had invited him into much to Buffy’s chagrin. “It’s Spike,” you had said, “how many times have we saved the world with him? I think he’s earned it.” It sent shivers down his spine. He would’ve saved the world so much sooner if it meant being able to be in your space. If it meant getting to hear you say his name through fits of laughter, trying to regain your breath while still finding enough to utter his name. “Spike.” you said, your hand over his while you giggled. He felt that heat now, felt the heat of all your touches culminating right now. All over his skin, tensing his muscles, holding his chest as he fought for breath himself. 

While he had the chance, he should’ve raided your underwear drawer. Now he was left to fist his dick with just the memory of you. You wouldn’t notice a pair or two gone, surely you wouldn’t. It was the type of small thing you would overlook because really what is a pair or two. You wouldn’t want him to be in pain, hearing his situation now, you’d feel like it was all your fault. The least you could spare was a pair of your prettiest panties for him to wrap around his cock while he fisted himself to the thought of you and how you would say his name now. 

The closest he’d gotten would be after a big battle. You had taken a beating, by the time you had gotten to a safe space you had lost a dangerous amount of blood, but the sounds that came out of your mouth were so delicious. And you trusted him to carry you to safety, your bloody hand wrapping itself around his bicep to maintain some tether to consciousness. “Spike.” your voice dripping with pain, but even that wasn’t enough to mask how pretty you sounded. He felt bad then for how hard it got him, but there is such a thin line between   pain and pleasure. The only difference now would be circumstance, and he would never hurt you. This would be good for you, the both of you, you just had to let him. You just had to say his name. 

“Spike?” In that moment, he knew there had to be some high power looking out for him when he heard your voice. Dream-like, and soft, like the wind could have blown it out and away from your lips. “Spike?!” you said again. He couldn’t tell if it was his shred of restraint or his body’s unwillingness to listen to his brain that kept him glued to his couch. 

“Now really isn’t a good time, love.” He tried to keep his voice level, he really did, but it was too much. And you weren’t stupid, he heard the heels of your shoes against the hard floor and smelt you before he even saw you. And fuck you smelt heavenly. 

“Are you okay? What happened-” You looked like you had a halo above your head, or maybe he was much further gone than he had thought. You cut yourself off in shock. When you had walked in, you hadn’t expected to catch Spike with his hands down his pants. 

“You know what, I’m just gonna go a-and come back later.” You tried to smile in an attempt to make the situation less awkward than it needed to be, but he grabbed you by your wrist. 

“Wait-I just need-fuck. I just need you to stay for a bit. I don’t feel good.” Your eyes met and you saw the sheen of what you assumed to be sweat covering his chest and face. His pupils blown out, his hair out of place, his labored breathing, like he couldn’t catch his breath. Oddly enough, the sheen had a pink tinge, and despite the fact that his fangs were protruding, his vampire face hadn’t appeared. You reached out to touch his forehead to surprisingly find a temperature. He groaned at the contact, both wanting to melt into your skin and like it physically pained him. 

“What happened?” He declined the answer, instead pushing his head more into the palm of your hand, tipping his head to sniff the inside of your wrist. “What are you doing?” You tried to pull away and put some distance in between the two of you, but he pulled you back, even closer than before. 

“You smell so good.” He nosed his way past your wrist and up your arm till he made it to your collarbone, trying to find where he could hear your blood pump the loudest. “Stop it!” you pushed against him as soon as you felt the tip of his fangs attempting to break skin. To both of your surprise, he let you. It looked like it pained him to do so, his eyes screwed shut and his hand gripping the arm of his couch until the wood snapped. 

“If this is about the demon thing, I’m gonna go get Willow, okay? You just need to stay right here.” The authority you had laced in your voice was cute. 

“Just stay here with me, yeah? There’s no need to get Willow. We don’t need Willow.” His voice had dropped an octave, his pupils blown and his brain damn near empty. Anything went in one ear then out the other as he held your hands in his, staring through you as if daring you to defy him. 

“Spike, you aren’t well.” You had tried to reason, but all he heard was that you weren’t saying no because you didn’t want this. You were concerned for his well being, even when he had you pinned down and his teeth at your neck, each breath moving you closer to him drawing blood, you were saying no because you were concerned he didn’t want this. You somehow thought he didn’t want you. 

“I’ve never felt better, baby.”, he said-practically fucking growled. Hell if he wanted you, he needed you. He pressed himself into you, his hands grabbing at anything he could to ground himself, his left at the base of your scalp and his right bunching the fabric of your skirt in his hands. He breathed into your neck, nipping and nicking at bare skin then soothing it with his tongue and kisses. He worked himself up over you, taking and taking until he was drunk, his tongue lolled out as he put his head on your chest.“Can I fuck you.” 

You had been caught in a daze yourself, his words had barely registered. You had more sense than he did at this point, finding enough resolve to shake your head. “Please.” he begged, groaning it out through clenched teeth. “I need you to make it feel better, please God just make it feel better.” He had pushed his hips into your hand, his weeping cock leaking onto you, pleading with you to touch it. “I’ll make it good for you, I swear, just be my sweet girl, yeah? Just make it better.”

You experimentally rubbed the tip, and he whimpered. His hand grabbing your wrist so fast a look of shock flashed across his face. You took that as a sign to pull away but he put your hand back around him, pushing your hand up and down his base. “Too much too quick, love.” 

Any hesitancy you had was swallowed as he smashed his lips into yours. It was urgent and quick, almost bruising how hard he kissed and held you as if you were going to disappear at any point. He tugged at a handful of hair, catching you in a moan that he used to force tongue into your mouth, sucking it as you pumped his dick at a painfully slow pace. 

His kisses made you breathless, and it was then you realized that he likely forgot in his haze that you actually needed air. He moaned into your lips, the sound spreading throughout your body and shaking you to your core. It wasn’t lost on him how damp your underwear had gotten, had he had the strength to pull away to touch you he would, but the mere seconds his skin would be off yours was enough of a deterrent to keep him in place. 

You tried to move away, but his hand kept you in place. “Don’t move.”, he rushed it out, a tone that otherwise would’ve been more commanding had he not been weak himself. “Keep going.” His hips bucked and stuttered, his movements becoming erratic the more faint your touches became. Like it was a warning; let me up for air and I’ll keep touching you. He whined at the thought of you pulling away. That wasn’t fair. 

His lips parted from yours, settling for the corner of your mouth before moving to your jawline to your neck, then just under your ear. You gasped for breath, you numb with the ecstasy of air and the feeling of his rushed kisses. He was getting close. Your hand was covered in his sticky pre-cum, his cock even more so as your hand moved alone over him, his own hand now grabbing at your shirt at the feeling. You squeezed at the bass, a motion he clearly enjoyed with how his body tensed up. A series of obscenities flowed from his pretty lips as he came, spurts of his cum getting over your pretty pink skirt, an image Spike would get himself off to later. 

You didn’t get long to sit in what just happened when he was on you again, laying you on your back and ripping your skirt clean off. You moaned something that sounded like “My skirt!”, but neither one of you were really worried about it. 

His lithe fingers were quick, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties, while he kissed up to where you wanted him excruciatingly slow. His hands rubbed and teased at the soft skin of your thighs, marking bruises everywhere he went. 

He moaned into you, sniffing you once again, before finding a place he wanted to dig his fangs into. Maybe it was how delicately he stuck in his teeth, maybe it was the lust blown fervor, but it didn’t hurt as much as you anticipated. In fact, you moaned at the intrusion, unable to know what to do with yourself as he sucked and lapped up the blood he had drawn. Your fingers wove into his hair, as if he could be pulled any closer to you than he already was. “You taste so good. So good.” And he let you know as such. The obscene noises that flew from the both of you, the slurping and whines, the pop of his lips as he traveled from one spot to another. But that’s not how he intended to eat you whole.

You were unbelievably wet, soaking through your panties and even Spikes fingers before he took pity on you and decided to pull them aside and plant his fingers into you. Now, you weren’t a virgin, but you had never had sex that felt as good as this. Never had someone in you that had hundreds of years of practice beforehand. 

“You’re doing so good, Sweet Girl. So good, can’t get enough of you.” What was an attempt to calm your nerves, had you keening and over the moon, the praise bringing tears to your eyes as you ground yourself in his hand. That didn’t move him along any quicker, his tongue still collecting anything you would give him like he hadn’t been fed in years. 

“Spike!” You called out, which finally seemed to get his attention. He saw the glass-like look your eyes had taken and the pout on your face. You looked like you were about to cry. Poor thing, so desperate. He said he’d take care of you, make you feel good. No point in denying the inevitable. 

You whined when he pulled out of you just to choke when he began to devour you. His nose at your clit and his tongue plunging into. “Thank you.” he muttered into you, like this was some divine gift to him. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” The combination of his praise and how good he was giving it to you made that coil in your belly tighten and tighten until it threatened to snap. And he just kept going. Completely in his own world, the only thoughts in his mind being about you, how you smelled, how you tasted, god you were so good to him. Letting him eat you out like this, helping him like this. He shouldn’t have expected any less from his girl. His sweet girl. No one else's, you couldn’t be anyone else's after this. His grip tightened around your thighs at the very thought. “Mine.” he said, the vibrations hitting your core deliciously. “Mine.”

“Yours Spike, all yours.” He hummed in approval, inserting two fingers back into you while he kept up his electric pace. He held your hand as it began to be too much, your back arching off the couch and your thighs closing around his head as he just kept going. You called his name as you came, high and higher until it became too heavy on your mouth and you couldn’t say anything at all. The grip you had on his hand had loosened, but he hadn’t let up. He still rambled into you, “Again. Again. Again. Please.”

You didn’t know if your hips were bucking into him or try to wiggle away from him. Either way, both attempts were unsuccessful. With how hard he pulled on your panties they had snapped and had been thrown to the side for the simple crime of being in his way. His forearm lay on your hip keeping you in place. Your hand still laid in his, him squeezing it as if it was any comfort from the inescapable feeling of his tongue licking your thoroughly soaked pussy. 

Your toes curled in your frilly socks as you came again on his tongue, and you foolishly expected that to be enough. You would’ve asked him to stop if you could pant out anything more than whines. You would’ve pushed him away if you could manage anything more than weak taps on his forearm. “No more.” you whispered out. “Can’t.” His fingers rubbed your hand as some form of encouragement. 

“Yes you can, love.” You shook your head weakly, scooting your hips back only for him to swiftly smack your pussy. You preened on the contact, and he drank in the arousal that gushed out just from that. “My sweet girl isn’t gonna disappoint me, is she? She’s gonna make me all better, isn’t that right?” Your brain was so fogged out you couldn’t even produce a response. You just groaned and squirmed, unable to brace for impact when he smacked you again. 

“Spike!” You cried out, but he didn’t care. Heknew you were feeling good from how much you gushed while he tongue fucked your cunt. It was just a bit too much for you right now. You would feel better, you just needed to let go some more. He tried to relax you, tried rubbing mindless shapes on your skin to calm you down as he worked you through your third orgasm, but you just heaved. Your tits bounced with how heavily you breathed, and yet after all of that, he still didn’t feel better. Why didn’t he feel better?

Despite the relief that came from him pausing his abuse, you still whined as he sat up from behind your legs. With your taste still on his tongue, he kissed you. You sighed into him, the feeling of his large hands moving from your hip to under your shirt to touch your tummy and rip your bra in half. You didn’t even notice him moving you into his lap and setting your thighs on either side of him so you straddled him. He thumbed your nipples, pinching and rubbing over them while he relished in the feeling of you cunt so close to his dick. 

You didn’t seem to catch on either as he slid in between your folds, too lost of him finally kissing you again. You moaned into this kiss as his fingers dipped to toy with your clit before he whispered in your ear. “Just one more.”

In one fluid motion, he slipped his dick into his cunt, catching you as your limbs went weak. He was so big you felt your eyes water with the pressure of him being in you. You could tell he was struggling to stay still, but the haze had worn off enough for him to regain some sense. He still waited eagerly for you to adjust, brushing the fallen tears from your eyes and kissing your checks to make it all better.

“Too big. It’s too big.” You stuttered. It was all you could manage to mutter out. He cooed at you, his dick growing harder than he thought possible at the feeling of it all and the praise. 

“I was made for you, Pretty Girl, you can take it.” You yelped as he jerked his hips into yours, but he just couldn’t help it. You were so pretty like this, all fucked out and dumb. Not a thought behind those eyes of yours and the only thoughts he was capable of was you. How warm you were, how wet you were, how tight you were. You were squeezing him and  milking him dry and as much as he tried he just couldn’t stop him self from fucking into you. 

“I’m sorry.” and he meant it. You weren’t ready and he couldn’t even tell if he was ready, his body had a mind of his own and he felt himself just slipping into the feeling of being enveloped by you. “Just too good. You’re too good. My good girl. You’re gonna take all I give you, aren’t you, love? You gonna be my sweet girl and take it?” His voice was breathy and low and impossibly hot. 

All you could manage was a soft ‘mhm’ as you took him in. It wasn’t like you had any other choice as you bounced on his cock, gripping at his chest and taking in each moan you earned as you drew blood from your scratches. 

You felt every inch of him, felt the tip of his dick hit your cervix and kept pounding at it like it was his job;  like he would die if he didn’t. You can’t do anything but take it as you screw your eyes shut and just try to breathe as everything in your body fights to hold on to some feeling. It was impossible to think, not when Spike’s hands were all over you and his touch was so incredibly hot. Even stranger, a pink glow began to emanate from him, that or you were closer to passing out than you originally thought. . 

He kept you close to his chest as you both chased your impending highs together, your lips meeting in the middle as you moaned and sighed into each other's mouths and he was a goner, rambling like a mad man in your ear, thanking you endlessly for something he couldn’t put his hands on. Maybe it was your release, that you felt coming like a truck. He squeezed at the fat of your hips, pulling you even closer until neither one of you could tell where the other started and ended and you came like that, so close that you were almost suffocating, but a different kind from before. 

He came not long after you, his dick still inside spurting his cum inside you and keeping it in there with little intention of coming out any time soon. That pink glow had faded from before, fading away until there was nothing there and the slight pink tinge from before was gone too. His eyes drooped a bit, his blue irises that you hadn’t realized you had missed finally reappeared, his pupils returning to normal and his fangs retracting. 

He hung his head in your neck and you felt his temperature drop a bit, no longer boiling hot. He refused to move his head from his spot though. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was ashamed of what just happened. 

After the both of you had a moment to catch your breaths, he removed himself from inside you, stalking off to find something to wear now that your outfit was completely ruined. He even had the decency to turn around while you changed, granted he had a hard time looking at you anyway. 

“You’re gonna wanna deep clean that couch.” You said to break the silence. You were surprised you got a chuckle out of him. 

“Yeah. I don’t normally do this sort of thing on there.” Another moment of silence passed between the two of you.

“You know, we can go back to my place and I can fix your nails. I can tell you’ve been biting at them.” He didn’t need to be told twice either. The place still stunk of sex and his head was feeling clearer than it had in days, he couldn’t stand to be there right now.

“About all of this…you won’t tell Buffy, right?” You giggled. 

“Not if you don’t.” And that was more than enough for him.

[torntruth]

❛ who do we have here? ❜ - for buffy

— SOME PROMPT FROM HERE , always accepting , @ofspvrta [ an ancient immortal vs. california ] .

IT'S THE INSTANT WAY BUFFY'S HEAD TURNS. not quite fast though , the slow turn until green eyes are boring into kassandra's make it more efficient. nose wrinkled into an irritated scowl , lips a thin line. buffy stands up from the unconscious knight she's hovering over. the punch she just landed across his face is already bruising up ... and he's certainly not moving. THE CAMPER IS SITTING ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. she's still glaring at kassandra.

... because she's more concerned at how fast the tall woman had found them. if she truly wanted to hurt any of them , she would have attempted. KASSANDRA'S THE LEAST THREATENING OUT OF THE TWO PARTIES HUNTING THEM. and she's really only threatening because of the fight that broke out of confusion more than anything. buffy just doesn't have time to figure out what kassandra needs exactly because she's too busy with an army of knights from an ancient organization and a whole ass GOD . oh she's so tired.

there is nothing that buffy would love more than to be arguing with dawn over something trivial while eating a homemade sandwich in the comfort of their house. NOTHING MORE. buffy opens her mouth to say something , probably out of anger and a little condescending because she is defeated and annoyed ... but the obvious sound of hooves on desert starts echoing. if they keep standing here that army's just going to keep coming. the one knight that she had already incapacitated was using one of the swords. HER SPECIALTY , she thinks as if a lot of weapons that aren't firearms are her specialty. she jumps sideways , rolls , picks up the sword at the same time and then heaves it like it's a spear towards the charging knight. the sword runs through the knight. and there is no longer a discussion whether these knights are human , or if they could be considered otherwise because they're from another realm. THEY'RE ALL DYING ANYWAY. does the no killing humans rule count if it's in pure self defense? yes.

" knights of byzantium and there's a whole army , " buffy just breathes out , actually. she's already backing up towards the camper. finger pointed ... menacingly towards kass.

" if you would like to have a discussion , you can join me. but if you lay a hand on any of them , even the vampire , i will kill you. do you understand? "

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

dw rewatch - takes on "the end of the world"

companion watch:

"the artic desert" hits different lol

something something bella vs the witch

rose's fear attack when she finds heres lf in the alien situation. she's genuinely terrified! it's a good beat, man. more than that, it's a rare beat. I get a lot of people don't vibe with it and prefer the more "buffy-esque approach, since it's "more to the point" and gets you larger than life figures… but personally I much prefer it when scifi/fantasy scenarios are portrayed as the terrifying reality they would be. also this: "ROSE: I just hitched a ride with a man. I don't even know who he is. He's a complete stranger"

war of the world vibes with the little robot fellas. /unintentional parallel to how cassandra dies and how the aliens in that book die?

"it gets inside and changes my mind, and you didnt even ask" "i didnt think about it like that" it's interesting that rose question this tbh

"five billion years in the future, my mum's dead" "bundle of laughs you are" /god i love this exchange. nine's constant attempt to downplay ANY surfacing of Real Emotions. rose's naivety in contemplating for the first time in her life that oh yeah, people die. the first statement of the "everything dies, everything ends" theme that will be woven throughout all the rtd era.

ngl i wish rose Did More in the plot of this episode, in terms of actually solving the crisis, feels like a stepdown after Rose giving her the most climatic moment... that said she does get a lot of great quibs in this one: "you two go pollinate and i'll go meet the family"/ "and i want you home by midnight!"/ "its better to die than to live like you, a bitchy trampoline" / "youre just lipstick and skin"

she's really similar to nine/ten in that aspect. they both have that "humor as defense mechanism" thing

blorbos:

the way nine and rose Lean in those stairs…. im Looking respectfully and im Thinking pure thoughts. (honestly ppl talk a lot about ten and rose's body language in s2 but there was A Lot going on with nine and rose as early as episode 1)

"all that counts is here and now" can't tell if zen mindfulness or a desperate defense mechanism to cope with ptsd.

first thing rose does is call her mum ): - Cassandra "I'm too young" vs Ten's "I was going to do so much more"...(ben wyatt voice) it's about the hypocrisy (oh having written this note before rewatching new earth... put a pin on that!)

timeless child retroactive continuity bonus: perhaps cassandra as "the last human" (not really a "human") paralleling "the last timelord" (not really a "timelord)? - "JABE: And what about your ancestry, Doctor? Perhaps you could tell a story or two. Perhaps a man only enjoys trouble when there's nothing else left". well post-s13 they're gonna enjoy themselves a lot more lol - there's something very anti-entropy about how the child gets to regenerate indefinitely without "losing" its essence and its dna integrity (vs cassandra's "flatness", the child gains more and more complexity as time passes).

colonialism/hegemony: - NINE: "mind you, when I say "the great and the good" what I mean is the rich." / "Five billion years and it still comes down to money" / this maybe be harsh,,, honestly i hate to say but doctor who sometimes really is just typical neolib """anti-capitalist""" fiction. - in the sense that it pretends to be anti-capitalist, but really is just capitalist realist. it's writers can imagine 203223 scenarios of the earth dying but they cannot conceive of a post-capitalist world, a classless society or simply a world without taxes. Of course you could say "this is so these stories are relatable" but even in their relatedness, there's rarely a portrayal of the anti-capitalist struggle (rather than just generic star wars-style, ideology-less "rebellions).- (that said, obligatory "I'm not a politics robot" disclaimer... "Do you think it's cheap, looking like this? Flatness costs a fortune." is an iconic retort lol) - there's also a kind of subtle Myth Of The Linear Progress Of History thing going on with cassandra being framed as someone who "stayed behind" and has not embraced this analogue to our "Color Blind Post Racial Society" which has "Obviously" outgrown prejudice and notions of racial purity. - "good thing i didn't take you to the deep south" / "you were to busy making cheap shots about the deep south" // parallels to-> "who do you think makes your clothes?" "Is that why you travel 'round with a human at your side? It's not so you can show them the wonders of the universe, it's so you can take cheap shots?" "sorry" . actually no rtd i dont think these are chepashots at all lol they are VERY relevant shots!! it's very transparent how the writers are kind of meek about making these *truly* transgressive points, but it's much easier to have the doctor argue that rose having a donor card is "a different morality"... again one is truly transgressive, the other is fun-but-no-challenging-of-the-hegemony scifi "dilemma". - the "quick word with Michael Jackson" line is doing A Lot but idek how to even begin to entangle it lol it's very 00s, for sure. - for once, a self aware one: "People have died, Cassandra. You murdered them." / "It depends on your definition of people, and that's enough of a technicality to keep your lawyers dizzy for centuries"

themes: - everything has its time and everything ends check your bingo cards. racial purity vs mixing vs 'progress'. class. life cycles. gut instinct (rose jumping the gun to empatise w/ the doc + nine going through the fans + rose reaction to the alien parade). destruction as tourism, as "artistic event" (an uncomfortable parallel to how this is what our heroes will be doing for the next 10+ seasons). - this episode does a bit of a u-turn on the previous (And the next) on its constant questioning of the intrinsic "meaning" of a physical body. in this, cassandra's continuous operations are framed as a kind of "lost of an essence". also the "surface" of her thinking as metaphor for her missing the "essence" of what it means to be human (biologically but more fundamentally, ethically).

Live Fast Die Young / YOLO / everyone deserves to be mourned. everyone deserves a dignified death. thread carefully and cherish life, because it will all be gone. our time is limited and short and it is because it is short that it means something. Life only means anything because there's Death.

ecology and environmentalism. "there are many species in that planet. mankind is only one / I'm a direct descendant of the tropical rainforest." obsessed with it. wish they brought back the rainforest.

[cyarsk52-20]

The Tragic Zero

Roxana HadadiJune 8, 2023

In trying and failing to craft a romantic hero narrative, Tom Sandoval broke the No. 1 rule of reality TV.

After all the gallons of Tom Sandoval’s fake tears, the gravity-defying orbits of Ariana Madix’s rolled eyes, and the sense that none of this has gone the way the man who single-handedly ruined white nail polish intended, whatever Raquel Leviss was going to say during the third and final installment of theVanderpump Rules reunion couldn’t have mattered much. What Leviss did in secret over this past tenth season — participated in a seven-month affair with Sandoval, an OG cast member in a nine-year relationship with long-term Pump Rules-er Madix — had already been revealed. Yet Bravo overlord Andy Cohen had promised a “twist,” and so audiences arrived desperate for one. Leviss’s apology to Madix was hardly an unexpected development, but it was thorough, even if the actual record-scratch moment — her tear-filled affair-timeline clarification in the final minutes of “Reunion Part 3” (against Sandoval’s wishes, she says) — confirmed that her mea culpa was full of mistruths.

Did either moment really change the mind of anyone who’s followed this ignominious display of Bravolebrity infidelity, backstabbing, and ostracizing? Before Leviss took the stage alongside the Vanderpump Rules cast who had unfollowed her on social media after the affair went public, and with whom she was reuniting after weeks of not being “seen or heard from,” according to an intertitle in the May 17 finale episode “#Scandoval,” certain narratives about the former pageant contestant had been set in place: She was a lost woman without a personality of her own, someone who entered the Pump Rules world because she was dating another cast member, James Kennedy, and who seemed adrift since they ended their five-year relationship and engagement in 2021. She was an opportunist and, as was thrown about many times during “Reunion Part 3,” “a sociopath,” going behind best friend Madix’s back to sleep with Sandoval in the couple’s home. Perhaps most self-destructively, she was a mouthpiece for Sandoval, seemingly repeating what he wanted her to say about their relationship and its contested details, and about the unique happiness they felt with each other that no one else (not Kennedy, not Madix) had provided.

Leviss and Sandoval’s insistence that their relationship was born not out of malice, but of pure synchronicity and organic magnetism, is the defense they’ve clung to all season, one seemingly manufactured by their assumption that true love could be a fortification against all accusations of wrongdoing. “It wasn’t about fucking, it was about a connection,” Sandoval claimed to Madix in “#Scandoval.” “He made me feel heard and seen,” Leviss said to reunion host Andy Cohen in “Reunion Part 2.” “We don’t live our lives by logic. Feelings took over,” Sandoval declared in “Reunion Part 3” when Cohen asked why neither Sandoval nor Leviss came clean to Madix. What the pair didn’t anticipate, however, is that the kind of grandiose, illicit version of romance they were performing works better in fiction, when the audience’s imagination is open to sentimentalizing misdeeds and deceit. Reality TV is a different animal, and the lies from Sandoval and Leviss broke the tenuous social contract upon which this genre is built.Reality TV is a different animal, and the lies from Sandoval and Leviss broke the tenuous social contract upon which this genre is built.

Vanderpump Rules isn’t literary canon like Anna Karenina or The Age of Innocence, and Sandoval and Leviss aren’t star-crossed TV lovers like Angel and Buffy or Robb and Talisa. Sandoval’s blundering attempt at rebranding as a lover mired in an irresistibly amorous, inevitably tragic liaison ultimately tested the limitations of his acting abilities. His spin hasn’t stuck, either on his Vanderpump Rules castmates (friends and coworkers who, for more than a decade, have blurred all kinds of personal and professional boundaries) or the viewers, who demand reality-TV personalities perform authenticity above all else. All of this negativity wasn’t the storyline that Sandoval wanted, but it’s the one he’s now stuck with.

Infidelity has been a central component of Vanderpump Rules since the series premiered in January 2013 as a spinoff of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, following multimillionaire Lisa Vanderpump and certain (attractive, thin, mostly white) staff members at her mini-empire of West Hollywood restaurants and bars. In those early days, “home-wrecker” was a common insult between the cliquey factions who worked at SUR Restaurant & Lounge; as Cohen noted in “Reunion Part 1,” “No one in this group has clean hands.” Sandoval was there from the beginning, a smooth-faced, aggressively cheek-boned actor who at the time was dating co-worker and fellow actor Kristen Doute; by the middle of season two, Doute was wondering whether Sandoval’s friendship with Madix, a recurring cast member, was just a friendship.

When Sandoval and Doute broke up, he blamed their growing emotional distance, her insulting and dismissive behavior toward him, and their lack of a sex life (keep these all in mind!), and soon he was with Madix, in a relationship that Doute kept trying to sabotage. Doute has since claimed that the series’s production team positioned her in ways that made her seem vengeful and hysterical, like when she showed up to SUR with the “Miami Girl” who she accused Tom of cheating on Ariana with in season three. But Madix was an impenetrable wall when it came to trusting Sandoval, and over the years, their relationship was a constant as so many others either broke up or were rocked by their own cheating scandals, including Doute and Kennedy and Sandoval’s best friend Tom Schwartz and his eventual ex-wife Katie Maloney.

Throughout season ten, as whispers of impropriety between Sandoval and Leviss grew louder, Madix maintained the calm neutrality that helped her befriend nearly everyone on the show, even those who hated each other, like Maloney and Scheana Shay. Her frankness in confessional interviews, her refusal to get involved as castmates bullied or trash-talked one another, her raw, agonized grief over the deaths of her beloved grandmother and dog, and her big-sister generosity toward Leviss (who, like so many other former Vanderpump Rules faces, could have been quietly shunted off the show after her relationship with a main cast member ended) made her a viewer favorite. Her loyalty and her evenhandedness — and how long she and Sandoval had stayed together, seemingly stable and satisfied, despite their shady origin story — made her the closest thing Vanderpump Rules had to an unblemished heroine. The tactical error Sandoval made, though, was thinking that Ariana’s heroine qualities also made him heroic.

Within the show’s purposeful group dynamic — almost incestuous, with castmates referring to each other as brothers and sisters and then also sleeping with each other’s partners — everyone’s brand is dependent on the inherent drama of that closeness (who’s getting along, who’s feuding) and on a presumed degree of honesty. Vanderpump Rules thrives on the tension between the two: the sense that everyone is living their truth for us to watch, even though (and sometimes, especially if) it might be divergent from someone else’s. Since the affair was revealed in March, Sandoval has tried to use that tension to his benefit by claiming that his happiness with Madix wasn’t genuine while his feelings for Leviss are; that Madix didn’t take his concerns about aging and aimlessness seriously, while Leviss did. The problem is that Sandoval and Leviss’s secrecy kept us from seeing any of that. They forgot that the reality-TV formula deems honesty to be what is captured on camera and dishonesty to be what people claim happened off.

Vanderpump Rules is a show with a long memory, and thanks to the reminders provided by desaturated flashbacks to prior seasons, Sandoval’s self-pitying presentation of himself as “the most hated man on television right now” is established as eerily similar to how he behaved in the past with Doute and with Miami Girl. Or consider his behavior when confronted by Madix, Schwartz, or Vanderpump in “#Scandoval,” blaming Madix for both his actions and inaction: “Every time I tried to apologize to you, it just makes you more angry”; “I don’t know how it happened. It just happened”; “I was seeking something that I wasn’t getting here”; “I lost all my mojo … Once I turned 40, I was like, ‘This can’t be the rest of my life.’” Maybe this would be sympathetic, if it weren’t overly reminiscent of the same excuses he gave to Doute when they broke up. In “Reunion Part 1,” Vanderpump Rulestakes us back to 2013, to Sandoval saying to Doute, “We also hadn’t had sex in three months. … You cringed every time I hugged you,” and then flashes us forward to March 2023, when he said to Madix, “We’d be separated all the time. … We have no sex life.”

Sandoval’s rigid allegiance to this almost scripted litany of complaints extends to his physicality: covering his face while making sobbing sounds in an embrace with Schwartz; deeply sighing, exhaling, and pausing when pressed by Cohen; his lack of eye contact, his shaking head, and his faraway gazes when Madix speaks. His only believable moments are when he breaks from this woe-is-me execution and admits that he’s tired of that very staging. When he whispers in Leviss’s ear in their one “#Scandoval” scene together, “I can’t kiss you, there’s cameras,” or starts yelling at the production crew in “Reunion Part 2” that they want a “for-real break where we’re not being filmed,” those are brief glimpses of the bifurcation between “reality TV” and “reality” that Sandoval thought he could use to his advantage. “I don’t want a camera in my fucking goddamn face. … We have to watch what we fucking say,” Sandoval complains, but those cameras, and the accuracy we want them to convey, are the primary reason we care about Sandoval at all. Without them, Sandoval is more a “worm with a mustache,” as Kennedy claims, than the group’s central driving character.They forgot that the reality-TV formula deems honesty to be what is captured on camera and dishonesty to be what people claim happened off.

That role goes instead to Madix, who Vanderpump Rules, and by extension the audience, have chosen to elevate. Madix emerges from this season not as the woman who did wrong, but the woman who was wronged; she’s Rosaline in Romeo and Juliet, she’s Natasha Naginsky in Sex and the City, she’s Jennifer Garner saying of Ben Affleck’s phoenix back tattoo, “I refuse to be the ashes.” Sandoval’s failure to make himself a tragic figure made Madix a triumphant one. She was seated next to Cohen at the reunion, dressed in a body-con outfit that qualified as a fashion fuck-you; she was scornful in refusing to accept Sandoval and Leviss’s apologies, yet vulnerable when admitting that the support of her friends, coworkers, and Vanderpump Rules fans has been needed and valuable; she was direct in interrupting anyone who suggested she should feel bad about Sandoval and Leviss’s love. (I assume that branding genius Lala Kent is already working on a way to turn Madix’s “I’m not humiliated. They are” into merch for Something About Her, the sandwich shop Madix and Maloney are opening this summer.)

Madix’s willingness to provide the production crew with her text messages, her unfiltered reactions to Sandoval and Leviss’s affair, and her vehement defense of herself spread her fame outside of the Vanderpump Rules sphere, to new brand partnerships, acting roles, and an invite to the White House Correspondents Dinner. When Cohen described Madix as “like Princess Diana” in “Reunion Part 1,” he was referring to her bold, bright-red dress and comparing it with Diana’s iconic 1994 “revenge dress.”But his observation works on a larger scale, too, if we see Sandoval as Prince Charles, Leviss as Camilla Parker-Bowles, and their relationship as a self-serving respite from the pressures of a demanding public and the weight of a forward-facing identity. They might have become king and queen, but they — unlike Madix’s People’s Princess — never became beloved.

Sandoval’s greatest misstep was thinking that he could craft his own narrative within an episodic reality-TV format that accumulates character development over time and that can break the fourth wall by pinpointing those same characters’ flaws and mistakes. What is Leviss’s final confession to the producers, and to us, about sleeping with Sandoval when Madix was out of town for her grandmother’s funeral if not evidence of how quickly one version of a story can fall apart, and another version can take on a new shape? Sandoval’s claim in “Reunion Part 1” that he wanted to be “more real … I just didn’t think it was fair to the rest of the cast” illuminates the dissonance we’ve always known about “reality” TV: that it’s only as real as its participants allow it to be.

Bravo has perfected a formula in which its anointed live in front of the camera for however long they want to be marginally famous (unless they go to prison, which is becoming a trend!), and Sandoval and Leviss were no match for a machine that has been grinding along for decades. In an atmosphere of 24/7 surveillance, maybe an illicit dalliance — a secret from the world, something that no one else knows — is inevitable, a way out of what could be perceived as an existential trap. Unlike a spilled Pumptini, though, that deception doesn’t just wipe away.

[hurtrite]

skyler had been detached from sex for a long time. he thought of it as a purely physical and biological need — stiff flesh seeking out any warm, wet hole that was available, the ensuing in-n-out, in-n-out never lasting quite as long as it did in those cheap pornos he'd watched in secret as a teenager. that way of thinking was perhaps a defense mechanism, rationalizing the first time he got on his knees for a stranger outside of a liquor store because he needed gas money, but it still led skyler to wonder if it was easier for him - a man - to be used by a john, allowed to remain mute while getting fucked ( often preferred silent or forced to be, beyond the occasional involuntary grunt ) whereas the first pack of hookers who had allowed him into their fold somewhere near georgia had transformed sex into the ultimate performance piece. they'd yowl like cats in heat and then stroll out back of the motel to bum a cigarette off skyler, asking if he knew anything about how quick you could tell if you had crabs, completely nonplussed. did it get 'em paid more? or was mewling roleplay just part of the fantasy that these macho men expected from a woman? never once had skyler ever had to pretend to cum, and for that, he was thankful. sometimes, though, it made him think that he just had a bunch'a noise stored up — a surplus of inhuman sounds and pitches he never hit all on his lonesome, locked up and waiting to be coaxed outta his system. buffy held that key, because whenever they were together, he couldn't keep his trap shut. not even now, with his mouth buried in her cunt, practically anguished in the way he moaned right into her heat, all wanton lust and need.

he was a dog. he was her dog — a hound of love, an obsessed mutt, prepared to rut against the mattress and cum all over himself if she so commanded. one snap of her fingers and he'd do it. his cock was already aching, trapped between his belly and the tangle of starchy sheets, each twitch of his hips feeling equal parts punishment & reward as itchy discomfort chased away any minor relief he could find. this wasn't about him, though, skyler had already gotten his tonight. he'd came in the very pussy that he was devouring now — maybe if he licked deep enough, he'd get a taste of himself oozing out in his lover's slick. . . buffy's heel dug into his back and his body responded, crumpling close, shoulders bowing under the pressure. blue eyes cut up the length of her body in a stubborn glare, looking as if he wanted to growl at her. the grip buffy held on his hair had him feeling scruffed like a wild animal, pinned in a way that didn't make his heart race, but slowed his pulse exponentially. he was so fuckin' gone on her. skyler tried to draw away just for the pleasure of forcing her to pull him back in closer, to feel her heel stab deeper into his shoulder blade and grind her pussy more steadily against his face. use me, he wanted to plead, fuck yourself on my face. digits curled into the meat of her thigh as he groaned, pushing at the leg not draped across his back, forcing the spread of buffy's legs that much wider. eagerly, he surged forward again, tongue delving deeper, knowing that the perfect point of his nose was nuzzling right up against her clit — this wasn't the first time he ate her out. experience was on their side, granting them the knowledge of just how to push & pull, of how brutal they could be with one another and still survive it. one more thrumming lick had his chin canting up, skyler's tongue finally meeting that sweet bud of nerves to swirl and tease. there was the barest brush of his teeth before his lips sealed around it to suck as well, moaning again.

as comforting as it was emotionally, their connection was a recipe for disaster. a ticking time bomb, of sorts, one that would leave buffy with shrapnel lodged deep into her flesh, so deep that there would be no removing it without nicking a vital organ or artery on the way, and so her body would simply have to accept the little parasites as a part of her and heal around them. if it didn’t wipe her out altogether, of course, which would be the preferable option. one simply couldn’t have attachments of any sort when in survival mode; weakness of any kind could be a death sentence. but while buffy had been living with this constant looming dread that something or someone would take him from her, closer to the forefront was the immediate safety he provided, a sort of security that she’d never thought could exist for someone in her situation. the first time she’d slept through the night without waking up in a cold sweat some time around 3 am with an irrational fear of imminent danger, buffy woke up that morning so disoriented that she wept for seemingly no reason. when it was just the two of them, buffy could finally drop her defenses and just be present without that constant threat of danger hanging over her head. right now, the only thing she was in danger of was going into cardiac arrest from just how hard her heart was pounding as she peered down at the man still making his descent down her body, mouthing at the taught skin stretched across her ribs, barely enough meat on her bones to keep them from jutting out in spots. her body was an equal mix of plump, pillowy flesh and sharp, unforgiving edges— shapely hips and a perfectly round ass pockmarked with an unfortunately deliberate scar that still hadn't faded after a decade and a half, bony elbows and knobby ankles and jutting ribs you could probably play like a xylophone. it's like her genetic code had adapted to her personality, enticing curves mimicking the deceiving dose of honey she doled out to potential victims clients, while the angular jut of her bones echoed the violence she was capable of. even from the jump, skyler just had this innate understanding of her body, somehow familiar with the intricacies and complexities of her form before he'd even seen her in the buff.

"y' want me t' go all freddy krueger on ya'? i'll have y' all sliced up like a honey baked ham... buffy's meat." in the eye of the proper beholder, that slime he was sporting could transform into something more benevolent— glaze. lacquer. lubricant. whatever was dripping off of him, she'd lick up each and every drop, and savor it, too. her grip on his hair turned to a gentle caress once he'd gotten settled with his head between her legs, though he'd paused to rest his head on her subtly protruding hip bone rather than follow through on his unspoken promise. "that ain't too corny, is it?" running her fingers through his hair, she pushed it back away from his forehead and admired the unobstructed view of his visage, his face being just about the only part of his body lacking blood splatters now that buffy had cleaned him up a bit. legs widened in anticipation when he inhaled her essence straight from the source, draping one leg over his shoulder and digging the heel of her foot into his back to keep him pressed down. as soon as his tongue touched down on her glistening cunt, she let loose a sigh that hung in the air and was swiftly swallowed by his own emission of satisfaction, whatever stress lingering in her body from their previous activities swiftly draining from her very pores. hips lifted from the mattress to chase his greedy mouth, once again grasping onto the hair at the base of his skull and tugging while the other grabbed a fistful of the threadbare sheets. "you're just starvin' ain't ya'?" teeth sunk into her lesser lip, though it did nothing to muffle her ensuing shaky moan. "go on... eat it like ya' mean it, fuckin' dog." to punctuate her demand, buffy sunk her heel further into his flesh, suddenly wishing she'd been wearing the sky-high platforms that had been glued to her feet back when she danced full time.

[stephaniespoiler]

Review: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Episode 1x02: “The Harvest”

Notes: - This episode aired alongside “Welcome to the Hellmouth” as a two-hour premier.  I’m reviewing them separately, partly for convenience, and partly because they are technically different episodes.  Both reviews are being posted simultaneously, though, to fit the original airing.

Summary: Buffy manages to fend off Luke (with help from the cross necklace given to her by a stranger identified in this episode as “Angel”) and save Xander and Willow, but Jesse is captured.  The next day, after explaining the supernatural world with Giles to Xander and Willow, Buffy realizes where the vampires’ underground lair is and goes to rescue Jesse, with Xander later catching up with her to help.  They find him, only to learn it was a trap and Jesse has been turned into a vampire.  The two escape, and are informed by Giles and Willow that tonight is “the Harvest,” a once-in-a-century opportunity for the Master to free himself from his underground confinement by having a follower (Luke) serve as a vessel to transfer power from his victims to the Master in a ritual.  Realizing that the vampires are going to strike the Bronze, the four go there to stop them: Buffy taking out Luke, Xander confronting vampire Jesse (and killing him when a fleeing woman pushes Jesse into his stake), and Willow & Giles helping civilians get out (with Willow saving Giles from Darla).  The following day, Giles warns them about the Hellmouth will cause them to face many more demonic threats, to which the teens accept before joking about how Buffy can get kicked out, leading Giles to say “the earth is doomed.”

My thoughts: This episode is... okay.  It technically does its job of concluding the rest of the pilot’s story and establishing the season’s central story arc/threat.  However, I find the episode hard to be as engaged by as “Welcome to the Hellmouth,” I think partly because it’s paced oddly.

I know that it’s technically the second half of the pilot, and so is mostly providing the climax to what was set-up last time, meaning it will be more action-heavy.  But the action sequences feel very dragged out and extended, to the point they lose tension as I begin to wonder why Buffy is having so much trouble closing a door.  In addition, there’s a lot of scenes in-between that action that seem to be there for padding.  Principal Flutie telling Buffy to not leave campus during school and locking the gate, only for Buffy to immediately jump over it, seems like it was there to pad out the episode.  Similarly, Buffy stopping at home and being grounded by her mom (worried after the principal called due to her missing classes), only to immediately sneak out: it makes sense for the characters, and to an extent showcases their relationship, but it means nothing for this episode’s narrative and feels out of place.

There are some good scenes, however, that contribute more to the main characters.  Xander is fleshed out more, showing a sense of inadequacy in the face of supernatural threats (as he can’t fight like Buffy, or research like Willow and Giles), intelligence in deducing they were going to attack the Bronze, and his hatred for vampires following Jesse’s death is established.  Willow, meanwhile, has a strong scene where she speaks up in defense of Buffy when Cordelia and Harmony are trashing her, before messing with them by giving the wrong button that leads to them deleting their programming work.  Her stepping up and being slightly less timid also plays into the episode itself, with her saving Giles in the climax by pouring holy water onto Darla.

For Buffy herself, I appreciate the fight with Luke where Buffy shows some cleverness behind her pure strength, tricking him into thinking the sun is she to distract him long enough to be staked.

Also worth noting we learn Angel’s name, although I really don’t like him in this episode.  There’s some cryptic lines teasing his history (how the vampires don’t like him), but I find his crypticness to be annoying.  He also adds nothing to this episode’s narrative, made worse when you learn he was watching the Bronze at the end but did nothing to help Buffy when it could have been the end of the world.

I’d say the character we learn the most about is the Master, learning his backstory (having tried to open the Hellmouth decades ago but failing due to an unexpected earthquake, leading to him being trapped in a church underground) and what an excellent job Mark Metcalf does in the role, striking the perfect balance between a campy performance and being imposing and threatening (really exemplified when some of the other vampires are scared of him).

I also noticed an interesting reflection between him and Buffy for the first time: both are essentially trapped.  Buffy didn’t want to be the Slayer and was trying to avoid it before getting pulled back in, while the Master is physically trapped and working to break free, both drawn to this location by the Hellmouth.  I may be over-analyzing here, but it stood out to me and I’m curious if the show plays this up in any manner in the future.

Favorite small moment: Giles asking Willow for her to help by searching on the web, saying, “It may be you can wrest some information from that dread machine.”

Overall: This is another episode that does what it needs to do - finishing the cliffhanger, fleshing out the cast a little bit more - but I don’t think is as engaging as the first episode.  I wouldn’t call it bad, though - it has some good stuff with characters, Xander in particular, and is pretty much required viewing with how much it sets up.

[theleafpile]

Bear with me but I’ve been thinking again about a way to change up  the storyline of season 2 to make Angelus into the villain he was supposed to be, Mr. Suave It Takes Real Artistry Death Guy.

So about midway through the season Angel has his One Moment of Pure Happiness moment with Buffy and by the end of the season he’s re-ensouled but sent to the Hell dimension. Angelus is described as the kind of vampire who enjoys mental torture, who likes to kill people from the inside. “To kill this girl, you have to love her.” He doesn’t take Spike’s “fist and fangs” approach but prefers some “finesse.” He finds beauty and pleasure in it. Unlike his human counterpart Liam, Angelus is supposedly cool and focused.

But we never see it. After one encounter with Buffy (in his apartment the morning after) he immediately fesses up that he’s soulless, revealing himself to be Angelus again. Then he begins going after her friends, starting with killing Jenny Calendar in an act of self-preservation. I guess you could argue that since Angelus has been waiting in the wings for so long he’s grown impatient, but that’s not how he’s been talked up to be. He’s the vampire who drove Drusilla insane, after all. That takes patience!

So here’s what I would have liked to see:

Firstly, a stark visual difference between Angel and Angelus. I would have liked to see Angelus frowning at Angel’s wardrobe, at all the soft shirts and big leather jackets. In the beginning he’d pick the nicest among them, some sleek and more subdued number that still matches Angel’s usual style, even if it’s a little nicer than his usual threads. Angelus is a snappy dresser, with some timeless elegance. He’s vain and holds himself above all others, and his clothing reflects that. After he goes shopping, he gets nothing that draws the eye too much, of course, but prefers quality, expensive brands. And the perfect character to bring up the difference? Cordelia. She is very impressed with his new style, complimenting his newfound taste. This can irk Buffy, whom Cordelia in a snide one-off manages to make her feel frumpy or tasteless in comparison. This can also spawn a small crisis moment for Buffy, who (like Willow later) complains that she doesn’t have enough “mature” clothes, that all her clothes reflect her teenager-ness, and if she’s going to be with Angel on a more “mature” level (now that they’ve had sex) then she should look like the woman she’s becoming. (Becoming. Get it?)

When he and Buffy do have sex again (and they must, to keep up the ruse) Angel is . . . different. I mean, what did Buffy expect? He did the whole make love thing for taking her virginity, and it was sweet, but he obviously wouldn't be like that all the time. He's older, and more experienced, and he wants to be with her, and knows she can take him being a little . . . rougher, than before. She's just new to this and that's why she's all confused and unsure. And this is definitely not something she'll bring up to Angel until Willow forces her to in her best-friend-and-I-care-about-you well-meaningness, but after talking with Angel Buffy really only feels worse.

Throughout, Angelus plays the loving boyfriend. He continues to play the hero, staking vampires as necessary and using the opportunity of splitting up with Buffy during a patrol to take a victim for himself, then acting all self-deprecating in a way she feels she has to soothe when he claims that he just wasn’t fast enough, that he staked the vamp but wasn’t able to save the victim in time. When the gypsy subplot comes up--Jenny’s uncle can still come to town, Jenny can still discover the ensoulment spell--Angel(us) plays hurt by the accusation. The other Scoobies step in to his defense, putting Jenny and Giles on the outs. Of course he’s not soulless! He’s one of us! He’s a good guy trying his best and you’re making it worse by thinking he could lose control of himself so easily! With some behind-the-scenes machinations from Angelus, this leads to Jenny and her uncle leaving town . . . or so everyone thinks. Again, in an act of self-preservation, Angelus stalks Jenny and kills both her and her uncle--knowing he’s risking the ire of the gypsies who cursed him. 

The loss of Jenny (again, just thinking she’s left town, but is also not returning his phone calls or emails) throws Giles off his game. Angel(us) steps up to relieve the poor Watcher of some of his burdens so he can take some time to himself. Angel(us) helps with research, leading the gang in that more than he ever did. He helps determine when and where Buffy should patrol. This begins a subtle, but noticeable, shift in control.

Obviously Angelus doesn’t want Buffy around him all the time. While he’s always playing nice with Joyce, he turns it up a notch, and tells Buffy that out of respect to her mother he doesn’t want her sneaking out at night to see him anymore or spending the night over at her place. There will be plenty of time for that soon enough. She’s still in high school! I know how fleeting lives can be, he says, especially those of our parents. I wish I’d spent more time with mine instead of fighting all the time. So Buffy caves. We see her getting closer with Joyce, which helps Angelus immensely. No more nights over at his place, except for maybe the occasional weekend . . . when he can’t manufacture some unavoidable evil that takes all night to fight.

Next, I’d like to see Angel do what Spike did with Adam: begin fracturing the friend group. He wants to isolate Buffy as much as possible, but he can’t do that by saying bad things, like Spike did later. No, all must seem to be in her best interest. For example, he could pressure Willow to look into colleges out of state. Look at Buffy, he tells her, when she becomes reluctant. She’s doing better than ever. He can sense the latent power building in Willow and wants her as far away as possible. Maybe he sets up Oz with a once-in-a-lifetime band touring opportunity (without anyone knowing it was him, of course). With Oz gone for months, what’s to keep Willow here? Doesn’t she know that he’ll follow wherever she goes? And he’s just as smart as she is--doesn’t he deserve a chance at a fulfilling academic life just as much as she does?

This brings up Xander. What to do with Xander stumps Angelus to the point of disbelief, and he becomes increasingly frustrated witht he boy in a way that’s getting harder to hide. He considers killing Xander in some kind of accident, but knows that he has to take the boy out of Buffy’s life in a way that makes it look like it was his own free will, like he did with Jenny. He tables the issue.

Then, Angelus has to make Buffy reliant on him, not just as a Watcher stand-in but also as the love of her life. So what does he do? He sets things up so it makes him appear like he’s interested in Cordelia. Nothing big--a smile, a laugh at her joke, telling the gang that some idea of hers is a good one. Angelus and Cordelia are never alone together, of course. They’re just friends! Angel doesn’t have many friends, right? So to make one is such a big deal and Buffy should be happy for him, right? Naturally, Cordelia soaks up all the attention and crumbs of affection. God, she’s so easy to play. Buffy becomes paranoid. It gets to the point where Buffy wants Cordelia out of her life. She’s just getting in the way! And who steps up for her? Xander. Accusations fly. He’d rather defend Cordy than be Buffy’s best friend? Angelus is loving it. Everything’s looking up.

Then, the event occurs that’s the beginning of his downfall. He gets caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. The smallest sliver of doubt at his intentions and excuse begin to creep in. Xander suggests seeking out Jenny or her people for some answer, way on the D.L., to which Giles replies that he hasn’t heard form her in months. Something about this sits wrong. They all seem to have vanished. This becomes suspicious.

Sensing this, Angelus doubles down. He brings Buffy to a nice date, like the ice rink. He reassures her that if he were to lose his soul, she would know. She would sense it, intuitively, as the Vampire Slayer but also as his girl. They are just that close. Besides, he adds cheekily, I’d probably just slaughter all of your friends. Then you’d know.

They hug. First we see Angelus’s smug grin. Then we see Buffy, who looks decidedly unsure.

After this, the season’s Big Bad ramps up its game. Spike and Drusilla returning work in nicely here. Angelus, unable to help himself, reveals that he’s back to them, but wants/orders them to stay out of it. The Slayer is his kill.

Spike is chill with that. Why? Because now he knows he has ammunition to get the Slayer on his side against Angelus, whom he wants payback against for any number of slights, the least of which is sleeping with Drusilla again. Spike is not on Angelus’s team, but Angelus, in his cockiness, doesn’t realize that.

There comes a point, near the finale, where the characters are at their lowest. The friends have separated. Giles feels lost. Buffy is second guessing herself, her instincts, resulting in her getting unusually hurt during a basic fight.

But who figures out the truth first? Cordelia. (Which works in the context of Angel 1x1 too.) Cordelia goes to reveal the truth of Angelus to the others. Angelus interferes and tries to talk her out of it, but she is not buying it, pal. She knows an evil vamp when she sees one, and you are it. Angelus, done with wasting time, drinks her dry--to the point of death. He leaves her. 

Drawn by the scent, other vamps come sniffing around. Buffy slays them, and in a heroic moment where Buffy puts aside how she feels about Cordelia, saves her life. At the hospital, with the gang all there (minus Angel) there’s some confusion, but Cordelia is absolutely adamant that it was Angel who attacked her--and why.

Brought together by this unlikely event, the Scoobies realize their worst fear has come to fruition: Angelus has returned.

The question becomes . . . how long has he been back?

Now, that’s a villain. 

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Spike

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(There are so many options for meeting Spike that it was genuinely hard to choose which one I wanted to write for this. I could do probably do a whole post about various meeting scenarios)

- Spike knew about you far before the two of you met. He’d been watching, or more accurately stalking you, ever since he saw you with the Blonde slayer. 

- Initially, it’s to use you as a weapon; to taunt the slayer with the threat of hurting her weak little mortal friend. It makes his fun little game of getting under her skin so much easier. All he has to do is show up near you, linger just out of your view or look as though he’s about to approach you and her face crumbles into a look of both severe warning and fear. 

- But he never does confront you, not until you’re forced to find out that Buffy is a slayer and that vampires are real and that your life is very much so in danger if you don’t start taking some precautions. 

- So you stopped walking at night, or going anywhere at night, even with friends. Stopped hanging out in shady places, always carried holy water or a cross, etc. You were doing well, you were being safe, until one night when you went out with some friends; after a few quiet and safe months for everyone, and without thinking, you did so with no “weapon”. 

- At first, you had a surge of fear course through you upon finding that you forgot your safety precautions at home, but as the night dragged on and nothing happened, you were able to calm down. You had fun, your life was back to normal at least for a little while, and soon enough your friends were dropping you off back at home. 

- You waved to them as they drove off, brushing away your hair as the wind blew it in your face. You turned to head inside your house, only getting a few steps forward before a hand gripped your shoulder and pulled you backwards. 

- If there was ever a time to die of fright, now would be it. Of course, standing before you was the bleach blonde bat himself. 

- He was far more handsome than you ever expected from Buffy’s warnings but that was besides the point. He flashed a grin at you, moving forwards as you clumsily walked backwards to get away from him. 

“Hasn’t anybody ever warned you about being out alone at night, pet?” 

- You couldn’t have answered if you tried though it turned out you didn’t have to. The sound of a car approaching broke the silence and in an instant Buffy was jumping out of the passenger side seat and running towards the two of you. 

- Spike merely held his hands up in a mocking gesture of surrender as the blond threatened him, his eyes locking darkly on you for a lingering moment before he stalked off. Buffy guided you to your door and made you promise to be careful, handing you the jacket you’d forgotten at the party. 

- That was the last time you saw him for a long time though you’d heard of his temporary alliance with Buffy when trying to stop Angelus and Acathla from sucking the world into hell. Buffy assured you that he’d left town with Drusilla and wasn’t coming back, putting your mind at ease. Well, at ease until he did come back. 

- Heartbroken, depressed, and alone Spike returned to Sunnydale, and who did he visit? Well, who else but you! 

- You were sitting on your back porch when he arrived, completely alone with everyone in your house out for the night. Turns out that fight or flight wasn’t the only response one could have when encountering something dangerous; there was also freeze. 

“Spike,” you could barely get the name out, eyes wide, heart racing nervously. “What are you doing here?”

- He gazed at you for a long moment, his jaw set moodily and his eyes contemplating and stormy. And then, as though it were normal, he took a seat beside you on your porch and began to speak. 

- He started from the beginning, talking about helping Buffy, leaving town with a girl, their relationship. And then he began to speak about their fight and subsequent breakup, and in pure shock you realized that the man had started to cry. 

- Now unbeknownst to you and as I said before, Spike had watched you for a long time. He’d seen the way you were with your friends and how kind you were and him, desperate for someone to talk to, had decided that he would unleash his tale of misery upon you. 

- Okay, so you’d comforted your friends during breakups before but comforting a depressed vampire after a breakup; one that only months prior was undoubtedly going to kill you, was not something you were prepared for. 

- Tentatively, you reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder, stilling there for a moment, trying to think of what you should do. Before you could speak, he’d leaned down and pressed his face against your shoulder, branching off into more of his story. 

- You took his cold hand into your free one and began to speak, hesitantly offering comforting words and explanations, reasoning with him that maybe this girl wasn’t meant for him as much as it would hurt for him to admit it. 

- After a few minutes of this, he raised his head from your shoulder, sniffling and wiping his face before setting his gaze forward and awkwardly excusing himself. You; still bemused by the entire encounter, said goodbye and without thinking told him that you’d “be here”. 

- He froze for a moment before nodding and slinking off into the darkness. You merely took a deep breath and went back inside your house, wondering what the hell your life had become. 

- As time would tell, your caring nature would prove to be a driving force in the creation of a friendship between you and the vamp. You showed him (1) one ounce of kindness and he latched onto it, feeding from it like the vampire he is. 

- He’d taken your advice to heart, kept himself from Drusilla and settled into his cozy crypt in Sunnydale, though that wasn’t the only place he resided. Spike had also taken to loitering around you and your house. 

- No one has ever really been nice to Spike which is awful to think about but true nonetheless. It hadn’t really bothered him before since he’d never had anything to compare his treatment to, but now that you’d shown him genuine care and kindness, well, he wanted more. 

- So yes, he loiters, he visits, he acts as though his sudden trailing of you is not odd in the slightest. You don’t have the heart to turn him away, not after that emotional display of his, so you just accept it although wearily at first. 

- After a while, you begin to trust him. If this was all a ploy then hell, his dedication was enough to warrant his right to kill you. But it wasn’t a ploy, as much as Buffy believed it was when she found out, scolding you for being stupid and demanding that Spike stay the hell away from you. He didn't. 

- He makes every excuse in the book to come and see you, showing up uninvited yet unsurprisingly nearly every night and sometimes day. It doesn’t even really matter what you’re doing at the time, he has no problem just sitting and watching, helping, or doing something on his own. 

- It takes some time to realize why he’s so drawn to you and when he does, he doesn’t know what to do because it’s finally so obvious to him. And it scares him.

- Above all, he fears rejection because the more time he spends with you, the more he realizes that you not returning his affections is going to tear him apart. So he puts off telling you though not for long, he can only keep himself from confessing for so long before he finally can’t take it anymore.

- He calls you from a payphone one night and asks if you can come see him, “just for a little while” though you know it won’t be, knowing him. You glance at the clock and though it’s late and you should probably be going to bed, you agree.

- Soon enough, you’re walking into his humble abode and questioning him as to what he wanted you over for, missing the way his eyes locked adoringly onto you as you shrugged your jacket off. He remains quiet for a minute until you call his name curiously.

- Finally, he confesses everything. How you’re the only one who’s ever really been nice to him. How he thinks you’re beautiful. How he loves your personality. And finally, how he loves you. You’re shocked to say the least but you don’t have time to be shocked, he’s looking at you expectantly; vulnerably, waiting for an answer and hopefully one that won’t shatter whats left of his heart.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” You stutter out, swallowing the lump of emotion that’s made it’s home in your throat.

“Just say that you love me back.” He whispers.

- He’s pleading with you now and the mere thought of how truly in love with you he must be to discard his usual sarcasm and defensiveness and genuinely beg you to not reject him pushes you to respond.

“I love you too.” You can see the weight lift from his shoulders as he moves closer to you.

“Say it again...please.” He asks quietly and your heart races.

“I love you.” You reply as he reaches you, mere inches away from your own body. He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you tightly, pinning you to him.

“One more time. ...Just please, one more time.” He whispers into the crook of your neck.

“I love you. I love you. I love-”

- Your words are cut off by a desperate kiss. Months of yearning and longing piled up into one amazing, beautiful kiss.

- You always thought that a kiss making you weak in the knees was something reserved only for movies but it was then that you found out that wasn’t the case. By the time you were forced to pull away because of a little thing called the need to breathe, he was the only thing holding you up.

“I love you.” You told him earnestly, gazing into his eyes, your hand smoothing the back of his hair. He silently tilted his face up, pressing his lips to your forehead before pressing it against his own.

“Stay with me?” He asked and you recognized that it meant two things all at once.

- He keeps himself glued to you at all times. You’re that insufferable couple who can never keep their hands; or lips, off of each other, he can’t at least.  

- He likes playing with your hair. Doesn’t matter what’s going on, whether you’re perfectly happy, horny or arguing; his hand gravitates to your hair without thinking.

- Painting his nails.

- Passionate, slightly rough kisses. He ravages your mouth whenever he can.

- Making out, like, a lot. Doesn’t matter what mood either of you are in, all he wants to do is shut out the world and focus on your lips and the way he can get you to make those quiet little moans.

- Sitting on his lap. Be careful though, he gets particularly handsy and needy whenever you do. 

- He’s pretty much horny all the time and when he isn’t right off the bat, he’s very easy to turn on.

- Teasing him with your neck; it drives him crazy. If you let him feed off of you, I assure you, it will be the most erotic thing you’ve ever been through.

- He compliments you a lot, especially when you get all dressed up, but he’ll also sometimes just bite his lip at you, looking you up and down and making you seriously contemplate not going out like you were planning. 

- He calls you sooo many pet names. Things like: baby, darling, love, sweetheart, pet. Not to mention the one’s he’s made into pet names with how much he calls you it. 

- Calling him William; it always seems to do something to him whenever you do. He can’t really describe what he’s feeling but he isn’t going to tell you to stop.

- Getting “bloody awful” poetry written about you. You don’t even care if it’s bad, you find it adorable and romantic either way, though you’ll probably only get to read it if you go snooping.

- Chivalry is ingrained deep within him and it always comes out when he’s with you. He opens doors, pulls out your chair, etc, without even thinking about it.

- Getting to wear the jacket™. He’ll give you hell for not bringing your own coat but will do so while draping his own over you and pulling you close.

- Singing along to the radio with him. He likes classic rock so that’s usually what’s playing.

- Soft, lingering touches. 

- He acts as though he’s touch starved even though he’s obviously had affection people before; namely Drusilla. He gets all weak when you put your hands on him or show him affection. Either that or he just gets all riled up.

- As much as he loves your kindness, he does like when you’re aggressive and mean to him. There’s just something about an angry woman that drives him wild.

- He has a bad habit of talking when he shouldn’t and/or being aggressively; and unhelpfully, sarcastic. Get used to telling him to or making him shut up, your choice.

- Innuendoes, sarcasm and delightful quips.

- Late night visits. If you can, I’d suggest adopting a nocturnal sleeping pattern. 

- But don’t worry, or, well, maybe you should, because he’ll also visit you during the day, wrapped in a blanket and quite literally smoking. He’ll greet you as though it’s completely normal, defensively asking if it’s a crime to want to see “his girl” when you incredulously ask him what he’s doing. 

- Does he accidentally stay at your place until after the sunrises so that he’s “forced” to stay with you the entire day? Maybe....

- He’s clingy and possessive in an endearing, slightly annoying way. He only does it or acts like it because he loves you so much so you can’t really be too bothered by it.

- He likes to think of himself as a big bad vampire but deep down he’s a sentimental, emotional softie who’s desperate for love.

- Comforting him. He deserves to have someone be there for him and believe in him and you’re that person. You’re the only one who really gets to see that broken side of him and you should be honored by that privilege.

- He’s not very experienced in comforting people but he has this inexplicable urge to do so whenever he see’s that you’re upset. Even if he’s furious with you, the moment he see’s tears, it’s like the anger drains out of him and leaves him with a heart that’s aching at the sight of you so hurt.

- He insists on looking after you when you’ve fallen ill or gotten hurt. He trusts no one else to do it, not letting them near you unless he’s sure that they can help in a way he can’t. You’re practically held prisoner until you’re well again, though he makes your imprisonment quite enjoyable.

- He holds you while you sleep, watching over you, memorizing every detail of your face. Usually, you’re either cradled against him, your face resting against his arm and your arms wrapped around his waist, or he’s spooning you from behind and pressing kisses to whatever bare skin he can reach.

- He makes these confessions that have your heart racing and tears wanting to come to your eyes because of how beautifully romantic and touching they are. They can be about anything having to do with you: your beauty, your personality, the things you do, or just how he feels about you in general.

- He’s genuinely scared of how hard he’s fallen in love with you. He’s never really been close to anyone; not like he is with you at least, so it frightens him to see how much of an affect you have on him.

- It may sound odd but he loves your scent. It’s practically a drug to him. He huffs you and your belongings: your neck, your hair, perfume, clothing.

- He steals your clothes and photos. He’s practically got a shrine to you in his crypt, nestled deep in one of his drawers where he hopes you’ll never find it since he doesn’t want to explain what its doing there. 

- He kinda, sorta, moves into your house after you start dating. I mean, he’s there so much that he’s practically living with you. He definitely stole one of your drawers over time, sneaking his stuff into it right under your nose until you finally realize that you have an entire drawer full of just his clothes.

- You aren’t really sure how he did it, but he made your mother really like him, like even before the two of you started dating. And rest assured, if you got a boyfriend between becoming friends and dating him, Spike most definitely turned your mother against them. Either that or she just liked him so much more and tried to persuade you to date the vamp instead, which he’d be very smug about.

- Buffy isn’t fond of your relationship but she plays nice, except for when she gave him the “I’ll stake you if you hurt her” speech.

- Defending him. He gets so happy and smug whenever you do, a Cheshire grin spreading across his mouth as he stands behind you.

- He wants to be better, for you above all else, and with you by his side, he’s sure he can.

- He get’s incredibly jealous over you. He doesn’t even like hearing your exes name leave your mouth, god forbid someone were to flirt with or be interested in you. The police would find their body dead in a ditch somewhere or; at the very least, severely beaten. 

- He’s incredibly protective and selfless when it comes to you. He’s ready to kill and be killed if it means that you’ll be safe. Thankfully, not many of your threats are that big so he doesn’t have to put his undead life on the line.

- Taking care of him when he’s hurt. He only allows you to do it, not wanting to be that vulnerable looking under anyone else’s gaze. He has a habit of saying that he “doesn’t deserve you” once you finish doing something for him which make you feel the need to prove that he does.

- You get into little meaningless arguments and bicker a lot but you don’t have very many serious fights. But if you did have a serious fight, he’d raise his voice, maybe insult you a little; nothing too severe just rude, and one of you would wind up storming off.

- He’d pretend as though he didn’t care but he’d be really torn up, going to your friends to rant about what happened and moping about their homes, not caring if they want him gone or not. They’ll probably wind up calling you to come get him, or he’ll go off in search of you on his own, apologizing for everything and asking if you can forgive him.

- Lots and lots of “I love yous”. They range from being incredibly sincere to horny to lighthearted; sometimes in the same conversation!

- He plans on spending the rest of his undead life with you. He’s already got a ring and a plan to sire you when you’re ready, just say the words and he’ll be yours forever.

[loisinherlane]

Okay, I didn't have time to build on this as I posted, and this is very spoiler-heavy, so under a cut!

I like to first talk about how Whedon initially wanted to portray vampires as completely evil, no chance of redemption. The was described is that vampires kill humans and another demon grows inside their body. The human soul is gone. What is left isn't the same person. Obviously, the totally evil vamps were nixed early on with the introduction of Angel as a "good" vampire, though S2 resurrects the concept by turning Angel back into Angelus. (Notably, this occurs after Angel sleeps with Buffy for the first time. In a lot of ways, this is a metaphor for shitty boyfriends who turn into someone "different" after they get what they want. But on the surface, this causes Angel to lose his soul.)

But the seeds have already been sown. We now have the concept that vampires could be good if they only had a soul--and then we're left with the question of whether vampires are the people they were before. We've also complicated matters by introducing Spike, who is not motivated (purely) by bloodlust, but also love for Drusilla. He takes care of her because he loves her. And in this sense, love becomes a neutral action. It does not require a soul. It is heart to heart.

For me, one of the big hallmarks driving home how important the soul is. In S1 and S2, Angel insists that Angelus is another being. Because he has his soul, he's someone else. But if he is someone else, why does Angel feel culpable for the actions Angelus took? And why would the Kalderash curse "Liam"/Angel for Angelus if they are not the same person? To illustrate that Angel's defense is wrong, I point to "I Only Have Eyes for You". Angelus's return begins with stalking and psychological manipulation (akin to how he tortured Drusilla as a human, though hers was likely worse for being prolonged and also her knowledge of the inevitable). But Buffy and Angelus are possessed by ghosts in love. They kiss. And Angelus suddenly decides to end the world--after he was "forced" to feel love.

Why would he do that if Angelus isn't in love with Buffy? He is, even if he won't admit it. But Angelus doesn't like that love makes him want to do "selfless" things--such as being gentle to Buffy. Meanwhile, Buffy teams up with Spike, a more pragmatic vampire, who does not want the world to end because he lives in it. Their forms of vampiric love are paralleled throughout this season, though not necessarily discussed directly. We have two parallels: Angel(us), who insists he's not Angel or Liam, and Spike, who will later deny being William--but also deny that he's a different person once his soul is returned. So we know that Angelus loved Buffy and Angel felt guilty for Angelus's crimes. (Which we know include stalking, torture, murder, and attempted world-ending. As far as I recall, rape isn't specifically mentioned, but with everything else involved, why wouldn't rape be on the list?)

This leads into my discussion of Spike: Spike's crimes are similar to Angelus's, though Angelus is repeatedly acknowledged to be worse within the universe. When Spike is transitioned to a love interest (or rather, when he falls in love with Buffy, as he is most decidedly not a prospect on her end initially) in S5, he rehashes a lot of Angelus's behavior, stalking, attempted torture, though it is framed as a joke because he's not a serious threat by this time. It's meant to illustrate that Spike cannot love Buffy truly because he's a vampire. But S5's story progresses in such a way to reveal that Spike's love is genuine--and that Spike can hold affection for humans without expecting anything in return, such as leaving flowers after Joyce dies and babysitting Dawn. Granted, Spike does acknowledge that protecting Dawn was for Buffy--but at the same time, he didn't plan on telling her the truth. Spike does things for Buffy because he wants to protect her. He loves her. But it is not an entirely selfless love.

It's not that his love isn't capable of being selfless. S5 Spike expected nothing of Buffy because he knew she felt nothing for him. His actions were because he loved her without expecting return. Once Buffy returns in S6 and begins that ill-advised relationship, he has something he does expect--and no moral compass other than his love for Buffy and her expectations for him. Buffy isn't at her best in this season, and she does lead him astray. Setting aside the misogyny of Buffy's role as his moral compass, Buffy sets expectations for their relationship that involve sexual violence and lack consent. (This is not a moral judgment on any kinky stuff but just an acknowledge that Spike and Buffy were both hard on each other.) And while Spike's attack on Buffy is portrayed as rape, Buffy earlier in the season began to touch Spike while invisible without identifying herself, and he reacts poorly until he knows it's her. Buffy has set the expectation that no doesn't always mean no. Once Spike realizes that Buffy is serious, he's horrified at his actions.

So now we're finally at the big point I wanted to make: This is a moment that fascinates me in a way. Why is Spike horrified? He's a vampire. He doesn't have a moral compass in the way humans do (per the show's rules). Vampires often relish in the freedom to commit outlandishly horrible acts, but rape is never at the center. Spike has murdered people indiscriminately, bloodbaths for fun. But the moment that gets him is an attempted rape.

From this moment on, Spike chooses to retrieve his soul in the hopes that he can get Buffy back. He's wrong. The soul only returns his knowledge of right and wrong. And of all the things he's done, that's something he can never forgive himself for.

one thing about buffy is that in a lot of ways it does frame rape as worse than murder. and i'm not here to start a philosophical debate about ranking of crimes. but i do think it's intriguing.

[comradesummers]

Funny how, as much as I do prefer Angel in his own show, it’s difficult for me to get past the broody hero man with a dark past who never talks about his feelings trope, but when Buffy represses her emotions and doesn’t talk about her feelings it hits so different.

Like, I’m aware that it’s a bit of unfair bias on my part, but there’s still something a lot more refreshing and interesting to me about a powerful woman who, owing to her possession of that power, has been taught her entire life that it’s her job to take care of others, and therefore simply does not know how to take care of herself and doesn’t even believe she deserves to be taken care of, as opposed to a powerful man who did terrible things in his past and spends all day feeling rightfully guilty about them.

I’m not against redemption stories like Angel’s, to be clear. I don’t need all my characters to be moral and pure for me to feel for them (Buffy certainly isn’t). But there’s still something about the sheer amount of characters like this that bothers me. It’s like we’re collectively encouraging people to understand and sympathize with the (usually cishet, white, able-bodied, etc.) men who do terrible things, and want them to forgive themselves and express their feelings, whereas women who repress their feelings because they’ve been taught that their feelings simply don’t matter in the grand scheme of things, aren’t usually given as much sympathy. Not by their audience and not by their writers.

And that’s probably a big part of why I’m so defensive of Buffy Summers.

[rametarin]

And further thoughts about the yaoi paddles.

If you’re under 20, and just now learning that fandom seniors in their late 20s, 30s, 40s, even low 50s, used to run around slapping eachother on the ass with yaoi paddles in anime and comic conventions after anime became a household media staple, you probably have.. questions.

You’re probably thinking, “Wow!! It was really lawless and anarchistic back then, wasn’t it! They never heard about personal space or sexual harassment laws! SOCIETY must have been SO different, back then!”

NO. I cannot stress enough, the Yaoi Paddle phenomenon was borne PURELY because the demographic MOST LIKELY to protest and be wet blankets about everything fun and sexual and admittedly VERY SKETCHY sometimes in fiction, and ALWAYS bad in reality.. turned off and said virtually nothing. Wokesters that’d protest about the environment and sexual assault against women would take off their Problem Glasses by night and act like paddling was harmless, contextually acceptable behavior.

Yaoi Paddle shit appeared because something absolutely magical happened in scifi and fantasy fandoms. It survived purely because boys didn’t complain, or their complaints were not taken seriously. I promise you, I assure you, if you grew up in the late 80s, your night time TV was INUNDATED with heavy handed messages about how sexual harassment (always male-on-woman flavored) was wrong, even proxy or indirect violence to women (tossing rubber gloves in their lap) was wrong, and to never, ever, ever do that thing or they’d rub your nose in it and consider you mentally diseased until the day you died.

Fandom was always niche, with sci-fi and fantasy stuff being off in its own little corner. Conventions, before the internet was king, was one of few places where more rural, disparate suburban and city-definition isolated geeks, nerds and dreamers could get together and just cut loose. Comic books, novels, video games. All that GOOD shit. But if you knew a girl in the 80s and 90s, you knew a girl that knew a girl that was getting them to be less tolerant and “more conscious and aware” (80s and 90s parlance for Woke) and when that happened, a new persona was created. A new bunch of dialogue options, created.

Suddenly they didn’t say stuff like, “Ew. Why is this character dressed like a SLUT? Typical male writers. Like we’d ever draw ourselves in this or put ourselves in this.” Because that’d be a personal, subjective opinion. Instead, the option to say, “It’s endemic in our western culture that male chauvinist authors and writers in a patriarchal system exploit femininity in media and reproduce misogynistic culture.”

And so assured this was true by mob mentality AND the idea that learned, educated, acredited and tenured academics had this opinion, they were scientists, and so they were right, permeated. Suddenly girl-fans had outlets to have justified apprehension for everything they saw and didn’t like or, if they actually liked it, STILL interpreted it through their lenses to be on, “the right side of history.”

It made fandom miserable and a sausage fest for a while, if only out of fear of driving away female friends. You couldn’t share that shit unless you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that your female peers and friends wouldn’t disregard you like a “typical misogynistic western male” for enjoying that stuff.

Sentiments and peer pressure thoughts emerged. Like, “The comic industry is hostile and cruel to women that try and enter it, and they exploit the image of women for cheap dollars.” So they simply weren’t interested in comics- mostly- unless the comics were written by women and sold with that virtue in mind. In which case, you had boys glowingly mentioning just how much they liked this authentically written adventure by this female comic author. Isn’t that just so special? Not like those horrid anti-woman cigar smoking old man stories, right?

There was always something to nag and get vitriolic about with the media. That’s part of why the Whedon brand of feminist writing got so popular in the 90s. it was low hanging fruit of peppy “sassy” girl characters doing girly things. They weren’t like “other” girls written in comics and cartoons. They were actually girly. Not idealized infantalized children, like those horrible white men write, you know.

Well. Things were looking really bleak for the forseeable future. Lots of boys just felt like comics and cartoons were lost to girls that weren’t specifically into them, and that meant more sausage fest conventions or hobbies, and signing off hope on those things being respected and accepted on the merits of what they are and were. The girls had embraced serials-filed-off radfem rhetoric and lenses, sometimes without even knowing the origins of where those truisms like the Male Gaze even came from, just assuming it was true and indisputable. And it complimented their insecurities, so they’d embrace that shit until they couldn’t anymore.

And then.. something absolutely miraculous and amazing happened that blindsided this whole vitriolic culture.

Anime.

And amazingly, every complaint that a lot of nerdy girls had about the very much sanitized, policed and made PG writing and characterization of characters in western comics and cartoons, just... fucking up and vanished. Seemingly within a fucking YEAR, the entire social culture of Problem Finders, finding everything wrong about these stories, the characters, the writer and the company that produced them being misogynistic male chauvinism, dried up. Those voices quieted, or were shut out of the groups.

Media from Japan was some of the most infantilizing, sexist, tittelating shit compared to mainstream American comics and cartoons and video games, and girls fluttered to it like flies to shit. We had Buffy basically subverting boogymen that a bunch of girls had been taught were still relevant after the 1950s by fighting crime in melee combat with men, and winning, while wearing jogging pants and cracking sassy, like Lola Bunny being a “tough girl.”

Japan had doe eyed, waif bodied ballet dancers that basically farted iridescent glitter, hearts and all the symbols and shapes of the Lucky Charms, riding unicorns and fighting evil in cute outfits. Being childish and not at all mature or professional to show how womanly and competent they were, basically being overgrown 11 year old girls fresh off the playground swing set.

And the fangirls loved it. Those nagging voices that would speak up and remind them about misogynistic, male chauvinistic “societies” and culture? Just.. they fucking VANISHED from the mind for AN ENTIRE GENERATION. I’m not exaggerating. Tolerance and fun and innocence was back again. The problem-glasses felt too ostracized and alienated, or didn’t even want to wear them anymore for personal reasons, and the Radfem Baby Wokes just seemed to grow out of that collective hysteria and pretend it never happened and never existed.

That’s why the very EXISTENCE of Yaoi Paddles at conventions was just so fucking bizarre to those of us that lived up to that point. After, “Stay in your own personal space, boy. DON’T even TOUCH a GIRL unless she VERBALLY AND PUBLICLY CONSENTS or it’s proof you’re just living up to this misogynistic, objectifying society’s evil history!” was drilled into us, day on the playground by day on the playground, by women with axes to grind and good-boy sycophants performing sharing those sentiments for brownie points, it was so fucking surreal to IMAGINE girls just running around sexually assaulting and physically assaulting random strangers because they thought they looked like cute, gay men.

It wasn’t that they didn’t know any better beforehand, it’s that they COMPLETELY put those sentiments away and up and decided, as girls, it was okay to violate male autonomy because they weren’t women, and “it’s okay to paddle a yaoi boy ^.^!” With NO self-awareness whatsoever.

The very fact it existed is testament to how attention starved boys were for girls approving gaze and playful interaction, that they’d tolerate some pocky fingered little cow stranger smacking them on the ass with a plank of wood because it was a socially acceptable way to just interact with girls in their lonely assed fandom and interest. It was an acceptable way to meet girls and positively interact. That’s the degrading bullshit boys said virtually nothing about at the hayday of yaoi paddles, purely to be welcoming to girls in anime and hentai approving spaces.

WE GREW UP hearing and watching horror stories and boogymen stories about true crime and sitcoms and crime shows about evil evil men violating the personal space of women for lewd and lecherous reasons. We had it drilled into our heads that the tolerance for boys and men doing that was negatives, and the general sentiment was men caught doing that (to women, or children of any sex) were effectively free game for any violence you personally felt like unloading on them, confident that in such outraged rape and sexual assault hating times, juries would excuse that passion as a defense.

So if you look back on the era of Yaoi Paddles and think. “WOW. That must be like driving cars before they invented seat belts and cough medicine before they invented the drug safety and scheduling legal system!”.. NO.

It was not like the 50s-70s, where many of the rules hadn’t been written yet so it was anarchy and chaos. Yaoi Paddles existed almost PURELY because girls HAD no rules if they didn’t want to respect them. The Yaoi Paddle phenomenon flew in direct opposition to how interactions were supposed to go, and ABSOLUTELY NO ONE would tolerate the reverse; no cis straight man could walk around randomly smacking women on the ass with a plank of even foam in pantomime, or ‘floating hand’ pretending to be a perverted character. The double standard was GLARING. The Double Standard was a fucking bugbear that had grown from a tiny screaming goblin and was now hanging upside down from the ceiling, roaring.

But because it was GIRLS inflicting it on BOYS, absolutely no party cared enough to raise a stink about it. The Radfems kept their mouths shut, because boys were the recipients. The Radfem Sympathizers really wanted to spank boys, so suddenly they couldn’t find their problem glasses and instead put on their neko ears. The boys were either stoic and amused by it or really wanted to be seen as cool and not buzzkills, so they tolerated to reveled in it.

Many times when you hear about things that happened either when you were a child just too young to really personally experience a thing, or before you were born, we’re quick to assume it’s a medieval place and the people were so uncultured as to have never pondered the social problems of spanking one another on the ass unprovoked. Violation of personal space, personal sovereignty- all that. That was NOT okay at the time. It happened because fujoshi decided it was okay and nobody argued with them to not do hat, or they were told to stop and did it anyway.

And as I’ve laid it out, that is the most bizarre and surreal element to the whole thing. They DID know better, but felt it didn’t apply to THEM because they were girls, and a girl slapping a boy on the ass “as a joke” didn’t mean anything- because it wasn’t happening TO them, FROM a man.

And irony of ironies, it was NEVER okay, EVER, throughout that entire era, for the reverse to be a thing. It was very specifically and exclusively not. As a man if you ran around slapping cute looking girls with the Yuri Paddle, you goin’ to either juvy hall, or prison, boi. Both sexes knew it. And yet, yaoi paddles STILL became a thing.

[kyloren]

Why Reylos Are A Bright Spot In The STAR WARS Fandom

It’s impossible to parse all of this out or to really say who’s “right” or “wrong” or what “right” and “wrong” even mean in fandom spaces. From my vantage point, the Reylo community is one of the more forgiving and accepting out there. It’s comprised of not only women, but plenty of men and non-binary Star Wars fans, from different races and orientations and experiences. And that’s true of any shipping community. In a fandom as large as Star Wars, there should be room for all of us to express joy or grief or surprise or disinterest in our cultivated spaces. It’s how we all choose to cross-pollinate that could use some work.

But Reylos aren’t deserving of the intense condemnation that comes from larger voices in the fandom. The ridicule feels specific and exclusionary, and rooted in gatekeeping sexism. Comparing them to the Fandom Menace is ridiculous. That group created blogs dedicated to roasting journalists, creators, and fans. Meanwhile, the Reylo community (along with Ben Solo fans) poured much of their frustration and sadness over The Rise of Skywalker into an act of good, by raising money for Adam Driver’s charity, Arts in the Armed Forces. How much money? As of this writing, over $76,000, more than double the charity’s fundraising goal for an entire fiscal year.

full article below the cut:

Why is romantic love such a controversial thing in fandom? It’s something I ask myself a lot, as a person who writes about shipping and who desires the kind of love that stories tell me might exist. I’ve spent most of my life in fandom spaces—participating in conversations or observing and examining them—and have witnessed firsthand how objectionable fictional romance can be, especially in fandoms that appeal to and target men. Why is this the case, and why is romance a thing we use to punish women looking for escapism in genre stories?

It’s hard to say, but it remains an endemic and undeniable strain. Shipping, which is fandom code for wanting two characters to be together, is often snickered at or seen as some frivolous element of appreciation. It can lead to shaming that feels personal and accusatory, as if your interest in a fictional relationship is a roadmap to your own intentions and experience. This attitude towards shippers is especially present in the Star Wars fandom, where the relationship between Rey and Kylo Ren is steeped in a seemingly never-ending controversy. There are fervent supporters of the romance between these characters, a plentiful contingent of opposers, and those who don’t really care one way or another but still seem fit to criticize.

Why has the “Reylo” ship created such a stir? Let’s dig into this subset of the Star Wars fandom: where it started, why it’s accumulated so much negativity, and why the Reylos don’t deserve the bad reputation they’ve acquired, especially in the wake of The Rise of Skywalker.

THE ORIGINS OF REYLO

The release of The Last Jedi was a rough time for a lot Star Wars fans. The film—the eighth in the Skywalker saga and the second in the Disney-era sequel trilogy—made a lot of bold storytelling choices, which divided the fandom into camps. Those who loved the meditations on the Force, Luke Skywalker’s troubled hero’s journey, the complicated characterization of Poe Dameron, Finn and Rose’s failed mission, and the strange developing bond between Rey and Kylo felt at odds with anyone who saw otherwise. Many disliked Luke’s arc, or the apparent sidelining of Poe and Finn, or the democratization of the Force. The disagreements spiraled into something bordering collective mania. It’s a debate that still rages today, and that seeped into the conversations we’re currently having about The Rise of Skywalker.

I loved the movie, but found the discourse numbing. Positive Twitter conversations were instantly marred by detractors, and every passionate argument was upended by accusatory nitpicks. I felt discouraged from participating in any of it, and I felt bitter towards the Star Wars community in general. Until I found the Reylos.

After stumbling on podcasts like What The Force?, Skytalkers, and Scavenger’s Hoard—all female-hosted programs—I realized there were plenty of encouraging conversations about The Last Jedi happening in fandom. I also realized most of them were Reylo-oriented. Suddenly, I was exposed to the exact conversations I always wanted to have about Star Wars: deep dives into mythology, redemption arcs, symbolism and dualism, religion, poetry. And all of that was encompassed in Reylo. All of these larger stories, focused through these characters joined by fate and purpose, who represented opposing ideologies of the Force.

There was so much to dig into. Rey and Kylo have a classic enemies-to-lovers storyline, a romantic trope seen in fairytales like Beauty and the Beast, classic literature like Pride and Prejudice, mythological stories like that of Hades and Persephone, even modern genre television like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’s typically used in women-oriented storytelling, as it affords duality and compassion to both parties; a distribution of power that makes the women as complicated, compromised, and interesting as their male counterparts. Rey’s interest in Kylo adds a layered intrigue to a character otherwise patently “good” and “pure,” words commonly associated with women, forcing them into palatable, antiquated gender roles.

Their relationship feeds a part of the fanbase who craves that kind of female protagonist. One who represents their own burgeoning lust, complicated compassion for the men they chose to care about, and temptation towards things we’re told to fear. Through the Reylo relationship, Rey took on another angle, one that finally made Star Wars feel like a story for me.

THE BACKLASH

I also learned right away what it meant to be a Reylo in the Star Wars fandom. The relationship between the light-sided Rey and dark-sided Kylo was riddled in turmoil. In The Force Awakens, a scene where he straps her down and interrogates her is considered by many to be abusive. The language Kylo uses to seduce Rey to his side in The Last Jedi is also seen as manipulative and problematic. He tells her that no one knows her like he does. In their opinion, he’s attempting to groom her to his standards, to turn her into what he wants against her own will. Those against the relationship will tell you that it’s a dangerous and negative message to send to young girls.

And here’s where I’ll say something potentially controversial amongst my fellow Reylos: I don’t think these people are “wrong.” Because everyone’s experience and perspective is their own thing to interrogate, and it’s not up to me to tell people how to feel about something–even if I disagree entirely. What I do take issue with, however, is the need to interrogate someone else’s preferences or fantasies. There is an infantilizing element to the backlash, as if those opposed think that Reylos haven’t reconciled with the themes presented to them, and are merely choosing to ignore them because they think Adam Driver is hot.

The way I see it, relationships like Reylo—power fantasies oriented on the feminine psyche, with an antagonistic male—fulfill two things I love in storytelling. They are pure escapism; the happy ending those of us drawn to the incurable are never afforded. And they are instructive, as they exemplify the patriarchal schism between men and women: that we are not equal, but that women love men anyway because of the compassion that comes naturally to balance that division. It shows how we can mend those gaps through patience and understanding. It’s archetypical and fantastical, sure, but that’s what Star Wars is: a fairy tale that wrestles with society and humanity in broad strokes.

That said, there are other reasons for dissent. Some fans ship Rey and Finn, and see their romance as a better avenue for a healthy relationship. Some have experienced personal trauma and can’t abide a romance that mimics and negates their pain. Others just don’t see the Reylo thing at all. Absolutely all of that is valid. Shipping should never be a competition or an authoritative moral stance on any side. Rey/Finn shippers are just as valid as Reylos because it speaks to what someone personally craves and desires. The shaming shouldn’t exist on any side—but because it does, the passionate defense comes in.

REYLOS DON’T DESERVE THE HATE

That knee-jerk self defense has drawn a lot of ire to the Reylo community in the aftermath of The Rise of Skywalker, the final film in the Star Wars sequel trilogy. On paper, the Reylos were given a lot of what they desire: Kylo Ren is redeemed and turns back into Ben Solo. Rey and Ben fight side by side and even share a kiss. But then Ben dies and Rey ends the movie alone, something that irked the shippers. They saw the ending as a grim conclusion for Ben and a way of punishing Rey for expressing her desires. To many, the ending feels hopeless and feeds into this stereotypical notion that for a woman to be strong, she must be single — as if romantic love weakens us.

There are other ways to read the ending, and many fans found power in it. That’s the beauty of film: that it’s entirely subjective. But in their profession of disappointment, the Reylos once again became a punching bag for the fandom at large. A recent BuzzFeed article compared the way Reylos reacted to The Rise of Skywalker to the way the Fandom Menace—a trolling, abusive, anti-Disney hate group—reacted to The Last Jedi. (Never mind that their “source” for this reaction was a tweet from a prominent member of the Fandom Menace, and that many of the complaints in question were either fabricated or from non-Reylo accounts.)

It’s impossible to parse all of this out or to really say who’s “right” or “wrong” or what “right” and “wrong” even mean in fandom spaces. From my vantage point, the Reylo community is one of the more forgiving and accepting out there. It’s comprised of not only women, but plenty of men and non-binary Star Wars fans, from different races and orientations and experiences. And that’s true of any shipping community. In a fandom as large as Star Wars, there should be room for all of us to express joy or grief or surprise or disinterest in our cultivated spaces. It’s how we all choose to cross-pollinate that could use some work.

But Reylos aren’t deserving of the intense condemnation that comes from larger voices in the fandom. The ridicule feels specific and exclusionary, and rooted in gatekeeping sexism. Comparing them to the Fandom Menace is ridiculous. That group created blogs dedicated to roasting journalists, creators, and fans. Meanwhile, the Reylo community (along with Ben Solo fans) poured much of their frustration and sadness over The Rise of Skywalker into an act of good, by raising money for Adam Driver’s charity, Arts in the Armed Forces. How much money? As of this writing, over $76,000, more than double the charity’s fundraising goal for an entire fiscal year.

I also know that the Reylos helped me find my way back to loving Star Wars, gave me endless professional and creative inspiration for the last two years, and deepened my interest and love of storytelling and mythology. I know I’m not alone, and I know that the Reylo shipping community has made Star Wars finally feel like a fandom they were allowed to love. That’s something I hope fans with different access points to the world of Star Wars might think about before they wag a finger or call Reylos fake fans or mock their interests and experience. Star Wars can and should be for everyone, and how we find our way into the galaxy far, far away is a unique, personal, and beautiful thing. Love is what it’s all about at the end of the day. Even romantic love.

by Lindsey Romain for Nerdist [find article HERE]

[keyofjetwolf]

Pitch Me your thing!

HELLO HELLO MY SUNBEAMS. For most every category, there was an impressive turn-out for pitches, so I thought we’d utilize the weirdness of this year’s GIFTENING to give something new a try. The popular vote winner for each category will happen on the first day, but on the second, the winner will be chosen from YOUR PITCHES. Mostly those pitches will be to me. The exception is in Miscellaneous, where you’ll be pitching to my family, because what I want to do and what is most entertaining isn’t necessarily the same thing.

So! How will we do this thing? GLAD YOU ASKED. I’ll link you to a form in a minute with space for one pitch. Once you fill it out, you’ll be asked if you want to do another. There’s no limit to the number of pitches you can send in! But remember that if you submit multiple entries for the same category, you’ll basically be competing against yourself.

NOW WE’VE GOT SOME RULES FOR DOING THIS (which I mostly stole from Holligay, because I have no creativity this year). Please read them carefully! I’ll toss pitches that break any of these, and I’d rather your hard work not go to waste.

Pitch Me is open for your submissions from RIGHT NOW (22 December) through the very last day of this hellyear (31 December) at 11:59pm MT.

The thing you pitch must have come from what was nominated for THE GIFTENING 2020. (Full list of those nominations in every category below the cut on this post.)

Entries must be unsigned! I’m looking to chose based on the pitch alone, regardless of who submitted it.

The pitch itself must be 100 words or less. HAVE PITY ON ME I CAN ONLY CONSUME SO MUCH.

If you’d like to get some help, ideas, feedback, all that good stuff, the Discord is a FANTASTIC resource I encourage you to use.

HERE IS YOUR PITCH SUBMISSION LINK

And, as promised, below the cut you’ll find the list of all the nominees in every category you guys sent in this year. IT’S A LONG LIST HAVE FUN WITH THAT

Anime

A Place Further Than The Universe/Sora Yori mo Toi Basho Ace Attorney (Gyakuten Saiban) Action Heroine Cheer Fruits Aggretsuko Aho Girl Air Master Akuma No Riddle Alien Nine Angel Beats! Angelic Layer Appare-Ranman Aria Aria the Animation Arrietty/ The Secret World of Arrietty (Ghibli film) Ascendance of a Bookworm Azumamga Daioh Baccano! Beastars Black Cat Blood + (the series) Bloom Into You Blue Drop/Tenshitachino Gikyoku Bodacious Space Pirates (starting right where you left off) BOFURI: I Don't Want to Get Hurt, so I'll Max Out My Defense Boku no hero academia Bubblegum Crisis Card Captor Sakura: Clear Card Cardcaptor Sakura Castlevania the Animated Series Cells at Work Chaos; Head Chihayafuru Code Geass cowboy Bebop Cyborg 009 Death Note Death Parade Deca-Dence Demon Girl Next Door Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba) Diebuster: Aim For the Top 2 Dog Days dorohedoro Dot Hack//SIGN Dr. Stone Elfen Lied Erased (Boku Dake Ga Inai Machi) Escaflowne Excel Saga Fantastic Children Fate/Zero Flip Flappers Fresh Precure Fruits Basket 2019 Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Ga rei Zero GaoGaiGar gekkan shoujo nozaki-kun Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex Ghost Stories (dubbed) Girls' Last Tour Great Pretender Hoseki no Kuni/ Land of the Lustrous House of Five Leaves/ Saraiya Goyou Inari konkon koi iroha Interviews with Monster Girls Inuyasha Isekai Izakaya "Nobu" Jellyfish Princess/ Kuragehime JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 4: Diamond is Unbreakable Kaguya-sama Love Is War Kaleido Star Kannazuki no Miko Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken! Kemono Friends Kiki's Delivery Service Kimi ni Todoke: From Me To You Kino's Journey/Kino no Tabi (2003) Land of the Lustrous (Houseki no Kuni) Little Witch Academia Lord El-Melloi II's Case Files EP0 {"A Grave Keeper") Love is Hard for an Otaku Love Live! Sunshine!! lupin the 3rd part 4 Madoka: The Rebellion Movie Magic knight rayearth Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha March Comes in Like a Lion Mardock Scramble Master of Martial Hearts Mawaru Penguindrum Megalobox Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid Mob Psycho 100 Mobile Suit Gundam (1979) Monster Mushishi My Bride is a Mermaid (Seto No Hanayome) My Love Story!!! My Neighbor Totoro My Next Life As A Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom My Roommate is a Cat NANA Naruto Natsume’s Book of Friends Neon Genesis Evangelion (hateblog) New Cutey Honey Nichijou Ōban Star-Racers One Piece Ouran High school Host club Outlaw Star Paranoia Agent Perfect Blue Please Save My Earth Pop Team Epic Pretty Cure Fresh Princess Jellyfish/ Kuragehime Princess Mononoke Princess Principal Princess Tutu Project A-Ko promised neverland (/yakusoku no neverland) Psycho-Pass Ranma 1/2 Re: Cutie Honey Re:Creators Read or Die (OAV) Red Garden relife Revolutionalry Girl Utena Rose of Versailles Ruroni Kenshin Sailor Moon Sailor Moon (viz dub) Samurai Champloo (english dub) Sarazanmai School Days School-Live! Scum's Wish Senki Zesshou Symphogear (listed as just "Symphogear" on Crunchyroll.) Serei no Moribito (Guardian of the Spirit) Shin Sekai Yori (From The New World) Shirobako Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle Smile Pretty Cure (Japanese original)/ Glitter Force (english adaptation) Snow White with the Red Hair Sound Euphonium Strawberry Panic (yuri) Sweetness and Lightning The Devil is a Part-timer The Devil Lady The disasterous life of saiki k (saiki kusuo no Sai Nan) The End of Evangelion (movie) the Promised Neverland The Twelve Kingdoms Tiger & Bunny Tokimeki Tonight ToraDora Tsubasa Chronicle Umineko When They Cry Valkyrie Drive: Mermaid Vinland Saga Violet Evergarden Whispered Words (Sasameki Koto) With a Dog AND a Cat, Every Day is Fun Yona of the Dawn Yu Yu Hakusho Yugioh Duel Monster Yuki Yuna is a Hero Yuri Kuma Arashi Yuri On Ice!!! Zoids: Chaotic Century Zombie Land Saga

Non-Anime Animated

Adventure Time Amphibia Animainiacs (Original) Animaniacs (Reboot) Archie's Weird Mysteries As Told By Ginger Barbie Life in The Dreamhouse Batman the Animated Series Big Guy and Rusty the Boy Robot Big Mouth Bob's Burgers Bojack Horseman Bravest Warriors Captain N: the Game Master Carmen Sandiego (1994) Carmen Sandiego (2019) Castlevania (Netflix) Cats Don't Dance Coco Courage the Cowardly Dog Craig of the Creek Cyber Six Daria Darkwing Duck Dragon Booster Dragons: Riders of Berk DuckTales (2017) Exo-Squad Fern Gully Fillmore! Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends Futurama Gargoyles Glitch Techs Godzilla: The Animated Series Green Lantern the Animated Series Hedgehog in the Fog (Ёжик в тумане) Hey Arnold Hilda Infinity Train Iron Giant JEM Kim Possible Kipo and the Age of the Wonderbeasts Legend of Zelda animated series (1989) Legion of Super-Heroes Liberty Kids Magical Girl Friendship Squad Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart The Legend of Korra Moominvalley Motorcity My Little Pony (Classic, NOT FiM) My Little Pony: Equestria Girls: Rainbow Rocks Onyx Equinox Over the Garden Wall Over the Moon (2020 film) Owl House Primal Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure Redwall Rise of the TMNT Roco's Modern Life Rugrats RWBY Samurai Jack Seis Manos She-Ra (1985) She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Sonic Boom Spartakus and the Sun Beneath the Sea Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse Star vs. the Forces of Evil Strange Magic Super Mario Brothers Super Show Superman: The Animated Series Teen Titans The 13 Ghosts of Scooby Doo The Animals of Farthing Wood The Dragon Prince The Hollow The Legend of Tarzan (TV series) The Magic School Bus (1994) The Mysterious Cities of Gold The Pirate Fairy (Disney Fairies) The Powerpuff Girls (1998) The Real Ghostbusters Thundercats (1985) Thundercats (2011) Transformers: Prime Tuca and Bertie Twelve Forever Undone Venture Bros Wakko's Wish Wakfu Wander Over Yonder We Bare Bears (TV) Winx Club Wreck-It Ralph (2012) X-Men Evolution X-Men: The Animated Series Xiaolin Showdown

Live Action

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea 28 Days Later 3rd Rock from the Sun A Series of Unfortunate Events American Horror Story: Asylum Babysitter's Club (2020) Batman (the old Adam West version) Better Call Saul Black Mirror Blackbeard's Ghost (Peter Ustinov) Boston Legal Boy Meets World Boys Over Flowers Bromance (Taiwanese tv series) Brooklyn 99 Buffy the Vampire Slayer Cadfael Cagney and Lacey Charmed (2018) Chopped Cleopatra 2525 Cloak and Dagger Clue (1985) Community Crazy Ex-Girlfriend Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance Dead Like Me Dead To Me Deadwood Death Note (Netflix) Derry Girls Dimension 20 - The Unsleeping City Doctor Who (New) Doom Patrol Dracula's Daughter (1936) Escape to the Chateau Farscape Fingersmith Galavant Godzilla (2014) Gokushufudo (2020 Japanese TV drama) Golden Girls Good Omens H20: Just Add Water (somewhere in seasons 1-2) Happy New Year Harley Quinn movie Hateblog a REALLY STRAIGHT soap opera. Haunting of Bly Manor His Dark Materials (HBO series) Holes Hot Fuzz House Inception Inside No. 9 Iron Chef America Joan of Arcadia Julie and the Phantoms Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle Kamen Rider Build Kamen Rider Ex-Aid Kamen Rider Fourze Killing Eve Knives Out Letterkenny Leverage Little Women (2019) Lucifer Matlock Majisuka Gakuen MASH Merlin Mission Impossible Ghost Protocol Money Talks (1997 film) Motherland: Fort Salem Murder She Wrote Mythbusters Nailed It! Never Have I Ever Once Upon a Time Orphan Black Pen 15 PGSM Pi (1998) Picnic at Hanging Rock (2018) Pride and Prejudice: A New Musical Puppy Bowl Pushing Daisies Rome (hateblog) Russian Doll Sabrina Sense8 Sera Myu: Un Nouveau Voyage Shameless Sierra Burgess Smallville So Weird Star Trek: TOS (or their films) Star Trek: The Next Generation Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Star Trek: Voyager Stargate Atlantis Suckerpunch Supernatural (out of context speedrun the last three episodes) Sweetheart Switched at Birth Tall Girl Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles The Addams Family (1964) The Big Flower Fight The Booth at the End The Bride With White Hair The Crown The Fresh Prince of Bel Air The Good Place The Kissing Booth The L Word The Librarians The Magicians The Muppet Show The Pregnancy Pact The Room The Steve Harvey Show The Stranded The Untamed The Witcher The Wolfman (1941) Torchwood Twilight Zone (original) Twin Peaks Ultraman Nexus Umbrella Academy Van Helsing Warehouse 13 Warrior Nun What We Do In The Shadows (tv show) Will & Grace Wynonna Earp X-Men 2: X-Men United Xena: Warrior Princess

Miscellaneous

Alpha Flight #41-62 Anime music dance party, the logistics of which are to be determined! Ask Hot Pocket and/or Mina-pup AskSharknado: Giftening Edition Attempt to make French macaroons Commentary on old Goggles Critical Role Crowdsourced: A Black Mirror-style day where Jetty has to ask what her choices are of the audience for everything! I give you a menu, you decide what she has for dinner? What does she wear? Does she walk on the track or do the eliptical? Does she go to a movie with Doc or play a video game with Mike? Can be done alongside other stuff. Doodle Day Dramatic readings of fan fiction! Drunk History (or whatever your favorite subject would be) with Jet Wolf! Drunk Sailor Moon Exorcising Closet Ghost Fic Prompts Day Figuarts Day! (Not specifically freeing anyone, just various fun poses and such) Guess the plot of a show based on its opening Her Shim-Cheong (manhwa) House of X/Powers of X Hubby's Choice IDW Jem comics liveblog Intros Only (watch show openings, give commentary, guess what show is about, etc.) Jackbox Games Jet Wolf paints along with Bob Ross Jet and Doc go to Heaven/Hell, respectively: Jet gets to write reams of words about the awesomeness of Rei Hino and Doc has to read all of them and say ONLY NICE THINGS. Jet does Tiktok dances Jet Liveblogs Holligay: A Nature Documentary Jet Ranks Sailor Moon Image Songs Jet Reads Goosebumps Jet Reads Legion of Super-Heroes Jet redesigns the Wolf and Gay offices! Jet shows off her knitting Jet Wolf attempts to recreate scenes from Sailor Moon with Mina and Hot Pocket and/or whatever is in the house Jet Wolf reacts to Sailor Moon tiktoks (in blog form) Jet Wolf reads Love and Rockets. Jet Wolf reads the Jem comics by IDW Jet Wolf reviews her old top 100 Sailor Moon moments list Jet Wolf talks about Archie Comics Jet Wolf talks about each cel she owns and why they are so awesome. Jet Wolf writes Poetry Jet Wolf's Top 5's Jet, Hubby and/or family play board games Jetty Rants and Raves Jet Wolf tries to crack the Gravity Falls Codes Kiwi Blitz on Hiveworks Let's Play on Webtoon Liveblog: Favorite X-Men comic book arcs Livestream Pathfinder one-shot LOONA (Collection of music videos with an ongoing story/universe about GIRLS who are FRIENDS and SAVE THE UNIVERSE) Lore Olympus on Webtoon Mike regales us with "the story of your love" while you get increasingly embarrassed Mina and Hot Pocket day - liveblog like a nature documentary Mister Tsukino Does His Taxes and the Household Budget (Sailor Moon fan comic by Shadowjack) Nancy Drew: Ghost Dogs of Moon Lake Not So Shoujo Love Story on Webtoon Pitch Mishaps for Untitled Senshi Game (it is a lovely day in Juuban, and you are a Horrible Minako.) Pitching hubby's favorite media at (readers/holligay/jill/momigay) Playing with dolls (because how could 3 women not have any dolls between them) Re-Take By Studio Kimigabuchi (All Ages Version) Real or Fake Anime (people submit descriptions of anime you guess if it is an anime that actually exists or not) Reviewing succulents Scavenger hunt! Not entirely sure how it would work, maybe folks could send in asks for you to show things like your favorite Rei Hino object, or the thing that's been with you the longest, etc. sewing/knitting/baking tutorial Share or rant about a Roman history topic Sleepless Domain on Hiveworks Talking to Docholligay 2: Doc Harder (basically you talking to Doc's future womb evictee while still in there and telling them stuff like say the greatness of Rei Hino) The Monster Duchess and Contract Princess (manhwa) The Polar Bear Plunge--I take Jetty to our finest Lake Elmo in January, and she jumps in! Note: THIS IS NOT DANGEROUS, WORRYWARTS. I'll bring a life preserver, I've done it before, and I would do it with her if I weren't pregnant. The Senshi Helpline--The Senshi, taking your advice questions, here and now! The World of Moral Reversal Virtual knitting/crafting circle! Let us craft and chat with you! What-If #24 Gwen Stacy Lived Worm the web serial Write an explanation for a drawing we send you! Yuri Hell's Kitchen

[sw-daydreamer]

Why Reylos Are A Bright Spot In The STAR WARS Fandom

There was so much to dig into. Rey and Kylo have a classic enemies-to-lovers storyline, a romantic trope seen in fairytales like Beauty and the Beast, classic literature like Pride and Prejudice, mythological stories like that of Hades and Persephone, even modern genre television like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’s typically used in women-oriented storytelling, as it affords duality and compassion to both parties; a distribution of power that makes the women as complicated, compromised, and interesting as their male counterparts. Rey’s interest in Kylo adds a layered intrigue to a character otherwise patently “good” and “pure,” words commonly associated with women, forcing them into palatable, antiquated gender roles.

(...)

The way I see it, relationships like Reylo—power fantasies oriented on the feminine psyche, with an antagonistic male—fulfill two things I love in storytelling. They are pure escapism; the happy ending those of us drawn to the incurable are never afforded. And they are instructive, as they exemplify the patriarchal schism between men and women: that we are not equal, but that women love men anyway because of the compassion that comes naturally to balance that division. It shows how we can mend those gaps through patience and understanding. It’s archetypical and fantastical, sure, but that’s what Star Wars is: a fairy tale that wrestles with society and humanity in broad strokes.

(...)

That knee-jerk self defense has drawn a lot of ire to the Reylo community in the aftermath of The Rise of Skywalker, the final film in the Star Wars sequel trilogy. On paper, the Reylos were given a lot of what they desire: Kylo Ren is redeemed and turns back into Ben Solo. Rey and Ben fight side by side and even share a kiss. But then Ben dies and Rey ends the movie alone, something that irked the shippers. They saw the ending as a grim conclusion for Ben and a way of punishing Rey for expressing her desires. To many, the ending feels hopeless and feeds into this stereotypical notion that for a woman to be strong, she must be single—as if romantic love weakens us.

(...)

There are other ways to read the ending, and many fans found power in it. That’s the beauty of film: that it’s entirely subjective. But in their profession of disappointment, the Reylos once again became a punching bag for the fandom at large. A recent BuzzFeed article compared the way Reylos reacted to The Rise of Skywalker to the way the Fandom Menace—a trolling, abusive, anti-Disney hate group—reacted to The Last Jedi. (Never mind that their “source” for this reaction was a tweet from a prominent member of the Fandom Menace, and that many of the complaints in question were either fabricated or from non-Reylo accounts.)

(...)

But Reylos aren’t deserving of the intense condemnation that comes from larger voices in the fandom. The ridicule feels specific and exclusionary, and rooted in gatekeeping sexism. Comparing them to the Fandom Menace is ridiculous. That group created blogs dedicated to roasting journalists, creators, and fans. Meanwhile, the Reylo community (along with Ben Solo fans) poured much of their frustration and sadness over The Rise of Skywalker into an act of good, by raising money for Adam Driver’s charity, Arts in the Armed Forces. How much money? As of this writing, over $76,000, more than double the charity’s fundraising goal for an entire fiscal year.

I also know that the Reylos helped me find my way back to loving Star Wars, gave me endless professional and creative inspiration for the last two years, and deepened my interest and love of storytelling and mythology. I know I’m not alone, and I know that the Reylo shipping community has made Star Wars finally feel like a fandom they were allowed to love. That’s something I hope fans with different access points to the world of Star Wars might think about before they wag a finger or call Reylos fake fans or mock their interests and experience. Star Wars can and should be for everyone, and how we find our way into the galaxy far, far away is a unique, personal, and beautiful thing. Love is what it’s all about at the end of the day. Even romantic love.

----

source: nerdist.com/article/star-wars-reylos-bright-spot/

[spaceskam]

the storm inside him grew

day 10 for @winged-fool! And also the last one that will be on time! The last 3 are taking longer than anticipated, but they’ll still be coming. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

warning: ptsd, dissociation, angst, hopeful ending, hurt/comfort

ao3

Alex had never felt so shitty and so content at the same time.

He raised his hand that was cupped with water, letting it pour over Michael’s bare chest. The man was deadweight against Alex after having fallen asleep sometime shortly after the beginning of their bath. He was breathing slow and steady, a direct contradiction to the tear tracks on his splotchy cheeks. Alex wasn’t really sure what had caused the crying, all he knew was Michael had shown up at his doorstep in the middle of a storm. He was sobbing and shivering and soaking wet, so Alex pulled him inside without a thought.

“I’ve got you,” Alex whispered, keeping himself from covering him in kisses. He wanted to. Badly. That’s all he wanted. However, he didn’t know if he was allowed. He wasn’t really sure what was happening.

Michael had clutched onto him, sobbing incoherently in between the word ‘Alex’ over and over. Alex had hugged him and tried his best to make it go away, to make whatever was hurting him leave. When that didn’t work, Alex had whispered sweet nothings to him that was usually saved for when day turned to night and defensively rough sex turned into something a lot more personal. Still, that hadn’t worked, so Alex asked what he needed and all he got in response was ‘Alex’. So he brought him to the bathroom.

For all he knew, Michael was still in a relationship with Maria. They could’ve broken up and that could’ve caused the crying, but this didn’t seem like an end-of-relationship breakdown. So they could still be together and this could’ve been triggered by something else entirely. Was this just a long time coming? Did something new happen? Was Isobel okay? Was Liz okay? He didn’t have answers and he didn’t really want to ask. It was easier to be in this bubble of them that he hadn’t gotten in years. Not really, not entirely, not purely.

This was pure.

Buffy’s feet tapped against the tile as she waddled in, staring at them with her naturally judgy eyes. Alex wanted to say ‘what? I’m not doing anything wrong,’ but the truth was he could be doing something wrong, he just hadn’t gotten confirmation and was choosing to be ignorant. Because, if Michael and Maria were still together, this was something wrong. Even though it wasn’t sexual, even though it wasn’t even romantic, it was something intimate. If Michael was Alex’s and Alex found out he went to someone else and took a bath with them to calm down, he would be furious.

He didn’t feel as bad as he should’ve.

“Four years ago, I thought I was never going to see you again,” Alex whispered, pushing a wet hand through Michael’s hair. It was already wet with a mix of sweat and rainwater, so Alex cupped more water in his hands and brought it to his hair. “We had gotten in a fight and you told me that if I planned on leaving again, there was no point in coming back. But I had to leave because I was still in the Air Force and I wasn’t about to get arrested because I didn’t want to leave your bed, so I let you push me away. Maybe some part of me wanted you to.”

Michael moaned low in his throat as Alex began working the shampoo into his hair. He had no idea if he was even awake or not, but he kept on. He’d already fucked up today, might as well revel in it.

“I love you,” Alex said, softer than before, “Even if you don’t love me and even if you don’t want me to love you, I can’t help it. You are in my veins, Michael. No matter what, I am yours. And I’m so sorry about it. I wish I could be someone that you wanted.”

Michael took in a heavy breath through his nose and shifted, laying on his side with his head tucked over Alex’s heart. Alex resisted the urge to kiss his head and poured more water on it instead.

Buffy huffed at him, waddling back out as if she couldn’t even take his shit right now. It was a valid feeling to have. The logical part of Alex’s brain could barely deal with him right now, he was stuck. And, God, he wanted to be stuck.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Alex went on, making sure he got all the soap out of his hair before reaching for the conditioner, “But I hope you know you can tell me. Maybe I can help. Or, even if you don’t want to, I’m still here. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

He got every inch of Michael’s hair, being extra careful about the side that was pressed to his chest. He didn’t want him to move. When he got it all covered in conditioner, he just stared at him for a moment. And when that didn’t feel satisfying enough, he wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, “You’re safe.”

Alex felt the last of the tension fall from Michael’s shoulders.

Getting Michael to bed was a great feat that left Alex feeling sore and out of breath.

He had to wake him up so he could get out of the bath, but being conscious only seemed to reignite the panic in his system and he ended up crying on the floor of the bathroom. Which meant Alex had to listen to it as he dried off as quickly as possible and put on his prosthetic even when he really didn’t want to. But, he did it and dried Michael off before bringing him to bed.

He took a moment to breathe before he dressed them both in nothing but boxers, too worn out to do anything else. Then he took his leg back off and sat on the bed where Michael was crying helplessly into the comforter, his whole body balled up and shaking.

“I hope you’re okay,” Alex whispered, staring at him uneasily. This was too much. He should’ve just let him sleep in the bath.

Alex crawled into bed and grabbed the blanket, engulfing Michael and himself in it. He wrapped Michael up in his arms and held him as tightly as he could. Michael’s face stayed tucked under his chin with his cheek against his heart, wrapped up in him. Again, Alex felt the moment he relaxed. It took weaving his hands through his wet hair and taking steady breaths that Michael unconsciously matched.

“I’ve got you, love.”

Alex stayed awake for another hour or so and Buffy decided she could stand him enough to come climb onto the foot of the bed. It was well past 3 in the morning and things were finally calm which allowed Alex to dose off with the love of his life in his arms.

He couldn’t have been asleep long when Michael woke him up again.

Michael was suddenly aware again, sitting up slow and confused as he looked around the room. Alex rubbed his eyes and gave him an encouraging smile. He wanted so badly to go back to sleep, but he could stay awake to make sure he was alright.

“Alex?” Michael said, voice clear like he hadn’t been sobbing for hours, “What the hell is going on?”

Michael looked almost offended, clearly irritated to find himself, not in his girlfriend’s bed, but in his ex’s. That woke Alex right up, sitting up sharply.

“Why am I here?” Michael demanded. Alex furrowed his eyebrows and stared at him. He just roughly got out of bed. “Where are my clothes? What the fuck happened, Alex?”

“Do you not remember?” Alex asked carefully. Michael scoffed.

“Obviously not. Last thing I remember was I had a date with Maria and then it started storming and suddenly I wake up half-naked in your bed,” Michael said, still searching for his clothes. Alex felt sick as he paused and looked at him accusatorily. “Did anything happened?” 

Alex gulped and his stomach dropped. He pulled the blanket up over his chest, feeling vulnerable and out of place and angry. All he’d done is taken care of someone he loved who needed him and now he was being judged for it.

“No,” Alex said softly. 

“Good,” Michael said, “Where are my clothes?”

“Bathroom,” Alex answered. Michael stormed that way and came out fully clothed.

“Do not tell anyone about this,” Michael all but threatened and then he was gone.

Alex sat frozen for a few minutes, trying to process what had just happened. No processing seemed to make sense. Did Michael simply lose hours of his night to crying to Alex? Did he drive when he wasn’t all there? Regardless, something about it all left Alex feeling horrible and dirty.

He laid down and tried to blink whatever tears that came away. Buffy crawled up beside him, cuddling up and trying to provide the comfort that Michael had. It didn’t really work, but he appreciated the effort.

He just couldn’t figure out what happened.

-

Two weeks passed and Alex hadn’t heard from anyone about anything. Michael never called, Maria never freaked. It was radio silence. He felt it was for the best and tried to forget about it. He was almost successful too.

It wasn’t until he heard a crack of thunder and a familiar panicked knocking on the door that made it clear that he couldn’t forget. Alex tried to ignore it and tried to be the bigger person. He still hadn’t been able to shake how wrong and dirty he’d felt when Michael had left the last time‒he refused to make it worse. He wasn’t going to answer the door.

“Alex,” Michael’s voice called, panicked and scared and desperate and thick with tears, “Alex!”

Alex clenched his fists in his lap, squeezing his eyes shut and tried to breathe. Buffy whined and nudged his leg, pawing at him. He didn’t know if she was trying to tell him to calm down or to go to Michael.

“Alex! Alex! Alex!” Michael screamed, sobbing as he banged against the door. Alex could hear the horrible sounds of him crying. 

“What do I do?” Alex whispered to no one in particular. He needed help. He couldn’t do this alone.

Buffy ran to the door in response, pawing at it and howling in response to Michael’s cries. That felt like all the help he was going to get.

Slowly, Alex went to the door. When he opened it, he found Michael in the same state as he had three weeks prior. He was soaking wet and sobbing and instantly clung to Alex like it was the only thing he could.

“Alex,” he whimpered. Alex had no choice but to hold him right back. He couldn’t just let Michael cry. He couldn’t do it.

Rather than make the mistake of stripping him out of his wet clothes again, Alex simply fetched a towel and wrapped around him. He placed them on the couch instead of the bed. He let Michael curl into him, but he didn’t initiate anything. He refused to do something wrong again. He refused. 

Michael was shivering in his towel, head in Alex’s lap. Alex simply ran his fingers through his hair and tried to tell himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. This was fine. He wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“You can’t do this to me again,” Alex told him, “You can’t just come here… You can’t just need me.”

Michael, of course, didn’t respond. Instead of stressing, Alex continued to run his fingers through his hair and try to keep him warm as the crying persisted. The crying only died down when Michael fell asleep, even then letting out small little whimpers. Alex wanted to hold him until every single thing that had ever bothered him went away. He wanted so, so badly to will it all away.

But he was terrified.

This time, he didn’t sleep. Instead, he stayed still until Michael jolted up and looked around. Just like last time, he was disoriented.

“What the fuck? Why am I here?” he grumbled to himself. His eyebrows were furrowed as he bowed his head, staring at the ground in confusion. Alex said nothing. “Alex, what is going on?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said coldly. That awful feeling he got from last time rushed through his body again. This was wrong. He was horrible. This was inappropriate. 

“Alex, I’m losing time,” Michael said, turning to face him. He wasn’t insulted like before which was good. “Second time in two weeks. I don’t remember coming here.”

“I didn’t touch you, you don’t need to worry.”

Michael scoffed and shook his head, standing up and dropping the towel. He stared at Alex, eyes angry just like last time. Alex did all he could to be respectful and, again, he felt horrible. He wanted to curl up and take a shower all at the same time. He was dirty. Bad. Wrong.

“Do you even care about anything but yourself, Alex? Saving your own ass? I’m losing time and all you’re going to do is say that you didn’t touch me? I can’t remember anything!” Michael spat at him, angry at something, someone, and turning it onto Alex.

Alex wasn’t stupid. He knew it was unwarranted. He knew not to take it to heart. And it still felt like a blow to the stomach.

“What do you want me to do? Tell you what happened? You showed up and screamed my name until I let you in. Then you cried yourself to sleep. That’s it, that’s where your time went,” Alex explained, hoping it would make him leave. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand him staring at him like that. All angry and disgusted.

“Just… leave me alone, Alex,” Michael insisted, storming towards the door with his squeaky shoes.

“And what if you come back to lose time here again?” Alex called. The squeaking stopped.

“Don’t let me.”

Alex waited until the door slammed before bringing his knees to his chest and letting his tears fall.

-

“You need to go!”

“Alex!”

“No! I’m not doing this!” Alex yelled. Michael dramatically dropped to his knees, crying and latching onto Alex’s thighs with his head on his stomach. Alex used the door frame to hold himself up, looking up in hopes someone would save him.

“Alex,” Michael begged, holding onto him tightly. Alex peeled him off and then dragged him inside, tossing him onto the couch unceremoniously. Michael reached out to him in desperation.

“We are not doing this again,” Alex said, “Stay on the couch. You can leave when you wake up from whatever this is.”

He knew Michael wouldn’t remember any of this. Right now, he was losing time and losing his mind. Something was wrong, but coherent Michael had asked him to leave him alone. He was doing his best to listen.

Alex didn’t sleep that night. Something about listening to the man he loved wailing for him kept him up.

Sometime around four in the morning, the wailing stopped. Another hour passed before Alex heard knocking on his bedroom door. He didn’t answer.

“Alex?” Michael asked, voice hoarse from the hours and hours of scream-sobbing. Alex didn’t say anything, staying curled up with Buffy and chewing on his thumb. It was worn down entirely. “Alex, can we talk? I know you’re awake. We need to talk.”

“Come in,” Alex said without his own permission. He was tired and worn down from listening to him cry for hours. He just wanted this to stop. He couldn’t take it.

The door creaked open and Michael slowly walked inside, arms crossed as he stood in front of the bed. He smelled like the rain that had coated his skin. He looked pitiful. Alex didn’t sit up, instead cuddling Buffy closer and peering over her to see him.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Michael said weakly, “But it has something to do with you.”

“Me?” Alex echoed, not even trying to hide how much that hurt. All he’d done recently was hurt, hurt worse than he’d ever hurt in his life. 

“I keep coming to you. I blackout and I come here every single time. That has to mean something,” Michael said. Alex took a deep breath.

“It happens every time it storms.”

“You think that has something to do with it?” Michael clarified. Alex shrugged. “Why would the weather have something to do with it?”

“Has something bad ever happened during a storm?”

Michael scoffed, “I mean, I lost Max. But, still, that was afterward.”

Alex let go of Buffy and slowly sat up. He was slowly but surely piecing things together. Well, some things. “Thunder can sound awfully similar to an explosion.”

Michael wrapped his arms tighter around himself. “What are you saying?”

“Some people when their PTSD is triggered, their mind will go somewhere else to protect itself. Maybe that’s what’s happening,” Alex offered, “Maybe you’re being reminded of Caulfield or losing Max or both. I don’t know. It just sounds like it might be a possibility.”

Michael swallowed and bowed his head, huffing a laugh. It slipped into a shuddering breath as he curled into himself. Alex longed to reach out and comfort him, but he didn’t. Surprisingly, it wasn’t hard. He was so scared to fuck up.

“Okay, okay, so I’m dissociating,” Michael said, nodding, “How do I stop?”

“I don’t know. Therapy, I guess,” Alex said, “But that won’t necessarily stop it. It might just help.”

“So, what, I’m gonna continue losing my fucking mind every time I hear thunder?” Michael asked. Alex licked his lips and didn’t answer. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t magically fucking cure PTSD.

“I don’t know,” Alex said.

“Why you, then? Why am I coming to you? What’s so special about you?” Michael asked. Alex squeezed his eyes shut and looked away, his whole body aching in response. What’s so special about you? “Alex, wait, I‒”

“I don’t know how to help you. If you need me to throw you on my couch every time you come here, I’ll do it. I’ll do what you want, just stop fucking saying shit like that to me,” Alex snapped. He couldn’t take it. He felt like a dick for being rude to someone who wasn’t okay, but fuck. He’d had enough. “You keep acting like I don’t have feelings. You always act like that! Ever since we were 17, you act like I can’t be hurt by you! You act like what you say doesn’t matter, but it does! Do you not understand how badly it hurts to hear you act like I’m scum? How horrible I feel whenever I take care of you and then get punished for it? Do you know how many days I have spent disgusted with myself for the way you looked at me? I’m trying my best and I…”

“I’m sorry,” Michael said, voice weak, “I’ve been taking it out on you, but I’ve just been‒”

“You love that word, ’but’,” Alex pointed out, “I’m sorry, but. I know you’re hurting, but. I really love you, but. That erases everything, you know. Nothing’s ever your fault.” 

“Alex‒”

“Just go,” Alex said, looking over at him, “I’ll be here when you’re dissociating, but you can go otherwise.”

Silence. Michael opened and closed his mouth multiple times. He never said anything.

“Okay.”

And he was gone.

-

There was a 98% chance of a thunderstorm.

Alex waited.

The sky turned gray. The air got muggy. Alex went home early. There was a knock at the door before the thunder even began.

“I figured out why I come to you,” Michael said whenever Alex opened the door. He was coherent for now. “It’s because I wanted you then. When things got bad for me, I wanted you. My subconscious is now just… forcing me to go to you.”

“Okay,” Alex said. Michael took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “I’ve been reading about everything and trying to work through it without having to go to a therapist and tell them I’m a freak of nature, and my first step is telling you I’m sorry. I’ve been horrible to you and everyone else. You’re right, I always blame other people and I am so sorry. I’m going to work on that.”

Alex gulped and nodded, “Good. Thank you.”

“And I’m not going to say ‘but’ anymore. You’re right about that too.”

“Okay.”

“And I broke up with Maria,” Michael stated which felt like it didn’t fit the rest of the conversation and Alex furrowed his eyebrows. “I was hurting the both of you and myself, so I think it was for the best. Obviously I still want you.” Alex’s eyes went wide. “Not like that. Well, actually, yes, like that, just not right now. I want… I want to be a better person before I can even try to be with another person.”

“Good for you,” Alex said, “I’m proud of you.”

Then they stood, staring at each other in silence that was awkward. Things were never awkward between them and suddenly…

“What are you waiting for?” Alex asked. Michael just folded his lips in. “Are you waiting for forgiveness? Because I’m not ready to give that to you just yet. You hurt me badly.”

Michael grimaced, but softly said, “No, I don’t expect you to forgive me. I would really, really appreciate it if you could give me the opportunity to make it up to you, though.”

“How do you plan to make it up to me?” Alex wondered. Michael quirked the smallest little smile.

“Just time with you. Showing you that I’m trying to change. And if you don’t want to be alone with me, that’s fine. And at any point you can tell me to stop and I will. Just… please give me a chance,” Michael begged. A loud crack of thunder sounded overhead and Michael visibly flinched. Alex’s heart went out to him involuntarily.

“Okay, you can try to make it up to me,” Alex agreed. Michael gave him a thankful smile. “Do you want to come in? You know, since you might just be coming right back here anyways.”

“Thank you,” Michael said, stepping inside. 

They both sat on the couch and waited. Michael took slow, regulated breaths and Alex silently praised him for it. It was better than nothing. The night went on and Michael never seemed to slip away completely, though his hands were shaky and he got a headache from hell. Alex sat with him through it and they spoke about anything except for the negativities. They spoke until the storm quieted down.

It felt like a successful night.

“You can sleep on the couch, if you want,” Alex told him, “Just come get me if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as Alex started making his way towards the hallway, Michael added one last thing.

“Alex,” he said, “You never did anything wrong those last few times. The fact that I made you feel guilty and dirty for being good to me when you had no idea what was happening makes me sick to my stomach. I am so, so sorry. I can’t ever repay you for what you did for me.”

Alex paused and took a deep breath. It was the first real breath he’d taken in a while that would actually go deep. It felt good.

“Thank you.”