“Between the worlds of the sweet and the savory. Not quite popcorn, not quite candy. What are we?”

This seemingly silly question comes from BoJack Horseman’s Todd Chavez (voiced by Aaron Paul) as he contemplates a bag of kettle corn — and his own sexual identity — in the Netflix series’ fourth season. In the previous season, Todd admitted that he wasn’t gay or straight; he was “nothing.” But he didn’t actually come out as asexual then, a personal revelation he avoided tooth and nail until his late 20s, preferring the safety of “nothing.”

Having a beloved character on a popular show come out was a huge deal for the asexual community: When you’re not one thing or the other, and you never see anyone like yourself reflected in media, it can feel like you don’t exist. As an asexual aromantic — meaning I’m not interested in having sex or relationships — I considered myself “nothing” for years because I didn’t see an alternative. For me and many others, watching Todd’s journey from nothing to something was life-changing.

If you’re unfamiliar with asexuality, and most people are, an asexual person is someone who does not experience sexual attraction. (Related, an aromantic doesn’t experience romantic attraction, but not all asexuals are aromantic.) That’s the definition provided by the Asexual Visibility and Education Network, which was founded in 2001 and can be considered the start of the modern asexual movement. The internet and the rise of discussion forums gave asexuals a way to openly discuss something that was previously considered quite private, and provided us with a means of creating a community and shared terminology.

With a community and identity, asexuals can now finally be recognized by the larger culture. And that’s slowly happening via television, which is gradually making room for storylines about asexual characters — but few shows are up to the challenge.

Asexual representation’s onscreen history is short and shallow

Perhaps the first depiction of asexuality on television came in 2003, in the form of Craig Kilborn’s recurring character Sebastian, the Asexual Icon, for CBS’s Late Late Show. Sometimes this bit would land on a brilliant articulation of what it feels like to be alienated by, and oblivious to, sexual society. (For instance: “In my opinion, the most erotic film of all time is TRON.”) Mostly, though, the character made it obvious the writers had no idea asexuality was a real orientation, turning the very idea of being nonsexual into a punchline.

It would be four more years until television saw its first sincere asexual character in Gerald Tippett (Harry McNaughton), introduced in 2007 on the New Zealand soap opera Shortland Street. Gerald discovered his orientation over multiple episodes and continued to have a full, exciting soap opera life after coming out. Three years later, American drama got its first asexual character via Huge, on the network then known as ABC Family. The short-lived series spares but one minute for Poppy (Zoe Jarman) coming out, but it’s a really good minute, full of vulnerability and overly direct awkwardness.

The only primetime series on one of the big four broadcast networks to address asexuality was a 2012 episode of House, which didn’t include any asexual characters. The episode “Better Half” features a clinic patient (Corri English) who House (Hugh Laurie) believes is lying about being asexual.

I hate to spoil this, and every, episode of House, but, yes, the patient is lying. She lied about being asexual so she could marry an asexual man, but luckily for her, her husband isn’t asexual either. He only thought he was because of a tumor in his brain. (I would suggest television writers avoid stories in which brain surgery cures not being heterosexual, but you do you, House.) I watched this episode with my mom when it aired, and I will always resent that it came out before I did.

Things picked up in 2014 when USA’s Sirens introduced Valentina “Voodoo” Dunacci (Kelly O’Sullivan), an asexual main character. Val was the focus of a major storyline where she forms a strong bond with fellow EMT Brian (Kevin Bigley), who isn’t asexual but is hopelessly in love with Val. Sirens can be a crass comedy, but the joke was always on Brian’s naiveté, and never on Val’s boundaries. While Brian considers Val his girlfriend, she never accepts that title officially, and the show is willing to live in a gray area instead of forcing Val to change.

A month later, Game of Thrones confirmed Lord Varys (Conleth Hill), a very prominent character, as asexual. Varys is a eunuch, but in Game of Thrones even eunuchs get it on. (Just look at Grey Worm.) The show goes out of its way not to conflate asexuality and being a eunuch, stating directly that Varys’s lack of attraction predates his castration. He even got a classic Game of Thrones speech about being asexual, saying, “When I see what desire does to people, what it’s done to this country, I am very glad to have no part in it.”

Slowly but surely, asexuality started coming up more casually on TV. In 2016, a background character on MTV’s Faking It, Brad (Sidney Franklin), shouts, “I’m asexual!” during an episode about taking pride in labels, and the comedy didn’t even feel the need to explain what he meant.

But 2016 is significant for another reason — it’s also the year BoJack Horseman began articulating Todd’s asexual identity. And in 2017, both BoJack and a new drama called Shadowhunters would break new ground for asexual representation.

Shadowhunters and BoJack Horseman indicate that asexuality is ready to hit the mainstream. But there’s still a long way to go.

The most common refrain from showrunners when it comes to their hesitation to write asexual characters goes something like Sherlock’s Steven Moffat’s excuse: “There would be no tension in that, no fun in that.” The supernatural drama Shadowhunters (which airs on Freeform in the US and Netflix internationally) shows why that excuse doesn’t hold water.

In a 2017 episode, Raphael Santiago (David Castro), a vampire, tells Isabelle Lightwood (one of the titular Shadowhunters, played by Emeraude Toubia) that he’s never been interested in sex, in an incredible scene where he dodges kissing her mouth to bite her wrist instead. Shadowhunters trusts that Raphael’s other physical needs and his passionate relationship with Isabelle could stand on their own, without needing to bring in sexual attraction.

And BoJack Horseman changed asexual representation forever by devoting a multi-season arc to Todd coming to terms with his sexuality and finally feeling like he belongs. BoJack also goes where no other show has, bringing in the asexual community at large: Todd joins an asexual meetup group and agrees to a date with another asexual, Yolanda Buenaventura (Natalie Morales), indicating the series plans to continue exploring asexuality beyond Todd.

But even with these advances, that’s still only a handful of American television shows that have ever made room for asexual characters, and there hasn’t exactly been a rush to introduce more. As recently as last year, The CW’s breakout hit Riverdale declined to make the character of Jughead Jones asexual, even though the character was established as such in the Jughead comics — which is especially disappointing for a show aimed at teens who could benefit from an exploration of the full spectrum of sexuality. 

We need more asexual characters, but also more variety in stories that move away from heterosexuality being the baseline. Television has yet to depict an asexual who is romantically gay, bi, or pan: Sirens, Shadowhunters, and BoJack Horseman’s storylines focus heavily on potential romances between men and women, and the idea that these characters might find romance in same-gender relationships is never brought up.

Plus, the focus on male/female relationships alienates asexuals who don’t experience romantic attraction. I find it frustrating that asexual-driven storylines on these series aren’t an escape from the message that I need a boyfriend. The relationships in Sirens, Shadowhunters, and BoJack Horseman are all incredible stories on their own, but when these are the most prominent examples of asexuality in media, it creates a false and damaging narrative that asexuality is heterosexuality-lite, instead of being a completely separate experience.

But stories of asexual characters won’t end here, maybe not even within these specific shows. Last year, Shadowhunters won the GLAAD award for Outstanding Drama Series for its depictions of multiple LGBTQ characters, so perhaps Raphael won’t be the last asexual on the show. BoJack Horseman could take advantage of Todd’s meetup group to introduce a wider range of people (and animals) within the asexual spectrum.

The door is open now for more series to bring in asexual characters, and I hope they will. If they don’t, though, Raphael and Shadowhunters are back for their third season, and as far as representation goes, those of us who are asexual could do a lot worse than the coolest vampire in Brooklyn.

Perhaps the best way to describe DC’s Legends of Tomorrow, the flat-out weirdest show in The CW’s DC superhero universe, is to let the characters speak for themselves:

“This can’t be happening. They’re not smart enough for this to be happening.” —Eobard Thawne

“We’ve barely begun, and already this is the worst, unmitigated disaster of my career.” —Captain Rip Hunter

“Who writes this crap anyway?” —Mick Rory

The fourth DC universe show developed by Greg Berlanti and Andrew Kreisberg — the team that brought The Flash, Arrow, and Supergirl to The CW — Legends of Tomorrow is like if the gang from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia stole the TARDIS from Doctor Who. The series, which follows the nonsense space adventures of a group of lovable assholes, embodies the spirit of “so crazy it just might work.”

It’s my favorite show on television, and it could be yours too.

I know: Keeping up with every piece of superhero entertainment in our current cultural landscape is exhausting. But I’m not asking you to watch another show about a lone wolf do-gooder on a mission to save their city. I’m asking you to give a chance to Legends of Tomorrow, a show about a ragtag family of misfits destroying history one poorly conceived and executed time travel mission at a time.

Need further convincing? In honor of the series’ wackadoodle second season, which ends with Tuesday night’s finale, here are eight reasons Legends of Tomorrow must be seen to be believed.

1) The premise is a joke (seriously)

The Legends of Tomorrow pilot is a mess of unconvincing seriousness: The idea that this team has been chosen by destiny to save the world sounds unlikely because it is. The Time Master, a.k.a. Rip Hunter (Arthur Darvill), isn’t James Bond, or even the Doctor. He’s a desperate mess looking to hire a hit squad to kill the immortal asshole Vandal Savage (Casper Crump).

Everyone on the team is less than a hero; they’re doomed nobodies with no effect on history, castoffs from The Flash and Arrow. When the intro says, “Don’t call them heroes, call them Legends,” it’s quite literally a joke — and that self-awareness is what keeps Legends of Tomorrow palatable where other superhero shows get smothered by angst.

2) The Legends are technically a wanted terrorist organization

No, I’m not talking about when Hawkgirl (Ciara Renée) and Firestorm (Franz Drameh and Victor Garber) attacked the Pentagon, or even Mick (Dominic Purcell) and Ray (Brandon Routh) setting fire to a White House tour. All that was small potatoes compared with time terrorism.

See, when Rip stole the Waverider — the ship/base the Legends use to trip through time — he became a fugitive from the Time Masters, who are like the government but for time travel nonsense, and everyone helping him automatically became an accomplice. While the term “time terrorist” isn’t used, it’s strongly implied when the Legends eventually blow up and kill all the Time Masters over ideological differences.

The Legends have also set off a fair number of nukes. Using Quantico as a reference point, I’m going to call one nuclear bomb getting detonated by a lovable loser the baseline acceptable amount of nuclear detonations. The Legends have set off at least three.

3) The Legends kidnap themselves as babies

In season one, the Time Masters sent an assassin to target the crew’s past selves, which would write their current selves out of existence. After saving Mick and Sara Lance (Caity Lotz) as teenagers, the crew realizes the safest move is to kidnap themselves as babies. However, they have no interest in taking care of themselves as babies. Instead they hand the baby version of Wentworth Miller’s Leonard Snart over to teen Mick and teen Sara to look after, with only the advice that if they do a bad job, they’ll be sorry.

I feel like I would be much more careful with a baby that was me in the past, but ehh, maybe I wouldn’t. Babies are annoying.

4) Sara Lance: flirting her way through history

Sara Lance, noted immortal badass, is having the time of her second life kissing women and making men fall in love with her all over time and space. She’s seduced a sweet nurse in the 1950s, the queen of France, basically the whole town of Salem during the witch trials, and Queen Guinevere of Camelot.

Sara even went back in time to become friends with the ageless Ra’s al Ghul 50 years before they meet up in her lifetime, just so at the last minute she could rub it in his face that at some future point she’s going to bang his daughter, Nyssa. Truly a hero for the ages.

5) Rip Hunter wants to screw his spaceship

Sara isn’t the only one using the Waverider as a dating service: Amaya (Maisie Richardson-Sellers) hooked up with her friend’s adult grandson, and Ray tried to marry a hawk god.

But Rip Hunter takes the cake when it comes to workplace romances. After he gets brainwashed, the team has to go into his mind, where they find an anthropomorphic version of the Waverider’s AI system, Gideon (Amy Pemberton). Rip and Gideon, finally in a situation where they both have human bodies, make out until Rip will literally die if he doesn’t leave. (For those worried about the computer’s ability to consent, Gideon goes out of her way to say she was into it.)

This is the only functional couple on the show.

6) Rip Hunter tries to kill a child, and loses

The ethical dilemma presented by killing a future monster as a child is a run-of-the-mill time travel issue. But when Rip wants to stop a genocidal dictator by killing him as a child, the team’s refusal to take Rip seriously — even after he kidnaps the kid — elevates the episode to high art.

While Rip talks himself into a shooting a brat, Ray has a sitcom-y side adventure where he meets one of his descendants and freaks out over whom he might have impregnated in 2016. Rip obviously doesn’t murder a child, and both these plots accidentally trigger the genocide they tried to prevent.

7) Camelot is a real, historically inaccurate place

In addition to sometimes being able to turn to steel, Nate (Nick Zano) is the crew’s live-in historian. Since Gideon can look up anything that ever has or ever will happen in all of time, Nate’s main contribution as a historian is pointing out the historical inaccuracies in Camelot that time they visited Camelot, a real place.

8) Jesus is definitely 100 percent real, and the Legends need to steal his blood

Season two centered on the Legends trying to find the Spear of Destiny, a magical artifact that can rewrite reality. Go with it; it’s not important.

The important thing is the spear has this power because Jesus Christ bled on it during the crucifixion. In case you think that’s a myth with a scientific explanation, it’s not, because only Jesus’s blood can destroy the spear, and they have to find some of it. It’s even briefly suggested, then immediately shot down, that the Legends visit Jesus on the cross directly and stab him just a little bit. Also the spear can only be activated by the word of God, which is pretty easy to find, as it turns out.

If you guessed that the Legends find a vial of Jesus’s blood by kidnapping J.R.R. Tolkien, then congratulations! You finally understand what makes Legends of Tomorrow so great.

The season two finale of Legends of Tomorrow airs Tuesday on the CW at 8 pm Eastern. Season one is streaming on Netflix.