#I just cannot shut up

[shouyuus]

18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni

consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.

college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.

college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.

college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.

"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."

college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.

she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.

"well... fuck."

college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.

"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.

"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"

"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.

"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.

vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --

"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.

"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"

"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.

you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.

"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."

college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.

college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --

"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"

"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.

after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.

"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."

"out?"

"yeah. to celebrate."

you blink as vi pulls her hand away.

"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."

vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."

college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.

she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --

"come on! i wanna dance!"

college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --

college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --

but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.

college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --

"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"

"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"

it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.

"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.

"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.

"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."

vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.

"wait -- what? you..."

you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"

you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.

college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --

"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.

"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"

"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.

vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."

college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.

college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.

"all this for me, pretty?"

you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.

"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).

she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.

"nope, keep 'em open princess."

college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.

she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.

college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.

"what are you --"

you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.

"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"

college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.

"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"

she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.

"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."

vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.

"you're amazing, y'know that?"

college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).

who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --

"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."

[qoldenskies]

i think its so funny when people take the way donnie acts at face value even though its a horrible lie because he's a horrible liar, while understanding leo is bullshitting very well despite him actually being GOOD at bullshitting. many such cases

[inkskinned]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[quinns-art-box]

hey king what's so funny

+ some other doodles and a mini comic that wouldn't leave my head LOL (what i have to imagine happened sometime after the fight)

[zenwinter]

More silly in-game doodling 🌻

[wishchip106]

i miss the way they look at each other

i swear they kissed at one point during this i just can’t prove it….

XMEN97 S2 PLEASE GIVE US MORE CHERIK CONTENT I’M STARVINGGGG😭😭😭😭 (pan to the piled up plate of cherik)

[stars4krios]

You all hate Korra because she's short tempered, harded headed, and arrogant like that isn't why you love Zuko and Toph.

You guys only seem to hate thoese traits on a dark skinned woman and I feel like that's something you need to work through before you attempt to come at Korra because at this point your reasons for hating her are so constantly debunked and disproven that y'all just hate her because she's not Aang (you know the whole purpose of The Legend of Korra; to show us an avatar that isn't Aang)

[ghostcreaturetypething]

Imagine you are a child. A youngest child. Your mum died when you were a baby. Your dad is…grief-stricken, obsessed, more of a drill sergeant than a father. But you aren’t alone. You have this brother. And he’s only four years older than you, but from the moment your mum dies he steps up as your parent, and he does his best but…he has the same parents you do. One dead, one whatever the hell John is. He has very little experience to go off as to what a good parent should be. But he feels like he needs to be one for you, so he tries, and he tries, and he’s your brother and he’s your mum and he’s your dad, and he’s sort of all you have, honestly. And he’s annoying, and over-protective, and however old you get he only ever sees you as his baby brother. Or his kid.

But you can’t complain about your parents to your brother because he is your parents, and your sibling, both. So in that you sort of are alone. But you don’t know any different, so you grow up thinking that that’s what a brother is, and then you grow up a little more and realise no, he was always trying to be more than that, and then suddenly you are both adults and you aren’t the baby hiding under your brother’s wing anymore, but you’re still stuck with him, this brother who insists on putting you first in everything he does, just like a mother would — but he’s not your mother, or your father, he is your brother, and he’s only four years older than you, an age gap that seems to get smaller and smaller the older you both get. And your brother — he’s flawed, and he has daddy issues, and he gets angry too easily and sometimes he hits things, which would all be very well if he was just your brother.

But he’s not just your brother, is he? He’s your parent, he had to parent you, he’s spent his life parenting you, which you never asked for, but he did it anyway because that’s just the kind of person he is, and for most of it he was a child himself and god he did his best and it wasn’t always enough but you are so grateful to him, anyway.

And now you’re both adults, two boys all grown up but he, he is…Not. Actually. It happened so incrementally, just like growing up, that you didn’t really notice until it was too late. But suddenly your strong, capable brother is a child. Which, to be completely honest…you don’t really know how to deal with. And, I mean, it does make sense to you, you suppose, because you’re clever, and you went to school, and you’ve always loved research, so you know how these things work now, a little. Your brother is a child now because, simply, he’s fucked up. From the trauma. The trauma of your childhood, right, but of course it wasn’t trauma when you were living it, it was just your life, and you didn’t know then that your brother was having to be someone so much older than his years because he’d been like that for as long as you could remember, but now he isn’t, and you are left with the child he should have been, who needs taking care of but still insists on taking care of you no matter what, and sometimes he kind of…can’t. Not like he used to. Because while you grew up, your brother grew down, and your brother who is your parent is suddenly somehow a child still — no, not still, he was never a child, but he is now, throwing tantrums and pouting and messing around, ever immature, frozen at the age you never got to see him be because you were a baby and then you weren’t a baby but by that time that person he was for such a short time was gone. Your brother stopped being a child at four years old. And now you’re finally old enough to try and parent him back…and he seems to need it. Your brother who never got to be a child is now very much a child, but he’s also still your parent, this child, and you are in your twenties and you have grown into a clever, sensitive, caring, capable young person and your brother…your brother has grown backwards. And you want to take care of him. But it’s hard, and he doesn’t let you, doesn’t want to let you, and he’s still the only parent you have so sometimes, deep down, you still want him to take care of you, and he does, and he does, and he does.

But the older you get, the less you need him, the younger he gets, the more he needs you — until you do need him of course, and then he is there, always there, reverting back to the person who saved and loved and cared for you as a child. And it’s sort of difficult to reconcile the two versions of him in your head. And you find yourself getting exasperated with his childish antics and then you find yourself smiling at him fondly as a glimpse of a much younger person shows through the shell of the soldier your brother was forced to become and then you find yourself getting angry with the overprotective controlling superior officer he tries to be and then you find yourself deeply grateful for the unshakeable big brother who saves your life over and over and over again.

And it’s disconcerting. And it’s difficult. But you owe him everything and you love him even more and so you just keep living with it. With him. And you don’t mention it. And he doesn’t, because he’s him and he never mentions anything. And you wonder if he even notices that things he used to face without fear, blank as a brick wall, make him flinch now. If he realises the steady, dependable big brother he had to be when he was too young to be depended on is now a mess of turbulent, childish emotion. If he thinks back to his littler self and envies him his competence. You hope not. You hope not. You know now the weight he carried. At least a little. And you think, infuriating as he his…he deserves to be a child at least once in his life dammit, just like everyone else. So eventually, you begin to catch yourself smiling at him more and more often, and you begin to grow desperately fond of the parts of him that are still young, the parts littler you never got to see. And sure, he annoys the hell out of you sometimes. But you are grown now, and you are understanding, and patient, and kind. And you love your brother. So you don’t mention it. And he doesn’t, because he’s him. But you make allowances for him, and you step in front of him now sometimes, and you let him be who he is, as long as he’s not hurting himself. Basically, you step up. Because you can, because you’re older now, and you’ve realised that, in some ways, you are actually more grown up even than your big brother. And so you try your best to look after him. Just like he used to do for you.

[cintasvel]

i am trying to process my feelings about vel, cinta and velcinta because for a long time i didn't even think we'd get featured queer characters in star wars. i remember feeling completely disillusioned by the rise of skywalker same-sex kiss because it felt so out of touch to celebrate the bare minimum, or as i like to put it, crumbs. it didn't bring me joy.

when andor s1 happened, i was so overwhelmingly surprised to see vel and cinta as an actual couple. i genuinely could not believe it. the 'blanket' line really threw me and, after not expecting anything from star wars when it came to queerness, i was so flabbergasted to see genuine love and yearning between vel and cinta. like, it's bonkers to me that some people thought that relationship was remotely one-sided, but i've learned that many people will not give a sapphic couple the time and attention they deserve so i move past that.

throughout the wait for s2, i was so excited to see how vel and cinta's relationship would develop. how cinta's way of thinking would be challenged majorly, and what that would mean for the both of them. i think it's this waiting and hoping for better, for seeing how well conveyed vel and cinta's relationship was in s1, was ultimately what led me to feeling so betrayed with what happened instead. i don't think i'll ever forgive or not resent the writing decisions that led to cinta not being considered a character worth exploring. or, worse, only used as a tool to bring vel pain. i think, personally, cinta deserved to be more than just a lesson for vel to learn from. but that's neither here nor there.

ultimately, i'm so happy vel and cinta even exist. and i realize, even as i'm writing this, that to some velcinta will always be crumbs and i get it to a certain extent. because at the moment the wound feels so incredibly fresh and so undeserved and senseless and downright cruel. but for me, velcinta was not crumbs and their relationship will always mean the absolute world to me. the love story between a stone cold warrior who chooses love in the end and a rich girl who abandoned her life of privilege to become a rebel will always matter to me. i didn't think we've ever get it. i wish it hadn't been taken away and effectively shot out back by creators who, to be frank, simply don't get the intersection between gender, sexuality and revolution. but just because it's effectively 'ended', doesn't mean it stops mattering.

as an aside: it is also a very humble reminder for me that i should seek intersectional media from non-white male creators far more often than i already do. it won't always stop disappointment as big as this from happening, but i at least know i won't feel incredibly punked by it as i have with andor season 2.

anyway. velcinta forever i love my space lesbians <3

[edelgards]

there are just so many ways to say "i love you"

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

jon val jon or something

[afterartist]

Someone please give Soundwave a raise

He puts up with so much

[hi-intrepid-heroes]

it’s not that titan takedown doesn’t look fun it’s just that i feel like murph should’ve been invited to a wwe actual play. as a treat

[wishchip106]

Charles looking like a classic bond villain with his attack dog boyfriend

you really wouldn’t guess they’re on opposing sides most of the time

[DO NOT SEPARATE]

[andorerso]

I know people say we have six episodes left, but no, we don't. not when it comes to Cassian. the last three episodes are set directly before Rogue One. weeks or days, I'm not sure, but the last scene is going to lead into Rogue One. we have always known that. what that means is that by then, by the last arc, Cassian should already be the man we see in Rogue One. and what that also means is that they have three episodes left to get him to that point. and so far, it doesn't feel like we've gotten any closer to that man. in fact, we may have gotten further away.

at the end of season 1, it looks like we got there. "kill me or take me in." sure, maybe he would still have doubts sometimes or question an order or lose hope. but this is not that. this is full-on regression from how we ended season 1, something even Luthen himself rightly comments on. it feels like they wasted the first two arcs by having him do practically nothing. barely in the first three episodes, spending most of the time as a hostage, then we see him playing house, shopping, cooking (okay, I enjoyed that but at what cost?), going on a mission very very reluctantly (which were still the best parts of the arc imo), and once again disappearing for a great chunk of episode 6. and the scenes he did have? going to Luthen in the middle of the night, risking everything to confront him? barely wanting to accept the mission at all? saying that maybe he's not that much of a revolutionary? this is where we end a mere two years before Rogue One?

and don't forget, there's gonna be another time skip. so now we're a year before Rogue One, and there's no sight of the man who takes orders without question, no sign of the dedicated, life-weary, emotionally closed-off rebel spy anywhere. unless, of course, his development happens off-screen during the time skip but that would also be quite an interesting choice, would it not?

where was the character development? how will all this be reconciled in three episodes? how am I meant to believe that just a year short of Rogue One, he's still not fully committed? he's still not any closer to to the character we see there? where is the Cassian Andor I know and love?

[aingeal98]

OK final post on this and then I'll shut up I'm sorry I just have to say my piece. I think the reason stephcass feels so shocking when plenty of wlw ships have gotten the "like a sister to me" treatment in the past is that stephcass managed to avoid literally any mention of that for over 20 years. Even Batgirls for all it's light and flattened characterization understood that Steph and Cass are not sisterly, they're "whatever the fuck those two have going on." Literally every dc writer even if they understood nothing else understood that. They were written as ex lovers in future state so to go from that to this, and from wfa which while fanony takes pains to include oracle babs, steph and cass and duke (as flat and ooc as he is) as equally as important family members as the four fanon batboys, and references canon events that indicates that the writers have read the canon they're pulling from... Like it's not just a case of a bad writer it's a case of "How did we dodge this homophobic bullet for so long only to get hit by Wayne Family Adventures of all things."