#you don’t have to like it

[glass-dagger]

I’m so sick and tired of people being grossed out by cardan’s tail and oak’s hooves. They aren’t REAL it’s FANTASY. Can we stop over sexualizing ya characters please? Like just admit you don’t like it because it ruins your attraction to them.

#it’s fantasy not YOUR fantasy #you don’t have to like it #they are characters #tfota #the cruel prince #tcp #the stolen heir #the prisoners throne #oak greenbriar #cardan greenbriar

[mando-din-lorian]

It absolutely baffles me that there are people who genuinely disliked “The Prisoner” episode.

Like, we got Din hunting down those motherfuckers one by one in the most badass way possible. He went full on Batman disappearing in the flickering lights. The competence. The skill.

We got a glimpse of what his life was like before we were even introduced to him in the show. We got to meet people who worked with him, who know how skilled he is. You could see their insecurity a mile away with how they were treating him.

We got Bill Bur saying he wants to see Din’s eyes in the softest, most homo manner possible.

We got Din breaking out of a prison cell barely even 5 minutes after he was shoved in there.

We got Din taking out an entire group of security droids by himself.

And people didn’t like it??? Baffling. Truly baffling.

#i don’t understand #i truly do not understand #someone explain it to me #the prisoner is one of my FAVORITE episodes #It’s like my go-to episode to get into a Mando mood #i absolutely love seeing Din’s competence #even a glimpse of the savagery he had when he worked with this group #everytime i see someone say they dont like the prisoner episode my brain short circuits #which fine #you don’t have to like it #everyone’s opinions are there own #i just don’t get it 😩 #the mandalorian #din djarin #mando #the prisoner #migs mayfeld

[missroki]

how i write my version of a black girl is my fucking business, lmao.

#‧₊˚ 🧂 ۫ ⭒ — sorin speaks. #you don’t have to like it #but if y’all think a black character isn’t black enough then…. #unpack that babygirl #bc what about them is not ‘black enough’ to you

[marvelcriminalhoe]

The Dancing Statue

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

This is for @supraveng 500 Followers Challenge!! Congratulations bb!!

Rules - There are no rules! 

Challenge - Pick a title from the list below and write it about your favorite character or real person!

My Prompt Choice - The Dancing Statue with Steve Rogers 

I’ve had this ready for a whole month and forgot to post it because it was in my drafts! Ah! Anyway here it is hope you enjoy :) this was REALLY fun to write and I had a different idea for it in the beginning but i just went with it lol :))

Warnings: just fluff

You loved museums. Any museum really.

It started when you were a kid, your father would take you to the museum every weekend since it was only $3 for him to get in and kids were free. It didn’t matter that you could only go to the museum because money was tight, it was always a blast and your dad would make it fun every time. 

It’s started being where you would want to go for all of your birthdays or when you would have a hard day at school. Museums became your solace. Your safe place.

So it only made since that you would find it even more comforting at night, when you were the only one there. 

That started when you were in college. You got into Juilliard on a complete scholarship for ballet. They only give one full ride per year for ballet and the pressure you felt having to keep up, stay on top, was monumental. You knew you would never be able to attend without it, which just added to the pressure. 

You had made friends with the night security guard at the Museum of Natural History one night when he caught you crying on the steps after a hard rehearsal. You didn’t even remember going to the museum, it was like your mind knew it needed somewhere to relax. To recharge. 

And that’s exactly what you did with Barry. He let you walk around with him as you unloaded how stressful your first few months in New York had been. He let you complain about the workload and how overwhelmed you felt being so far from everything you had known for the first time in your life. He let you talk about how much you missed your dad, how you knew you wouldn’t get to see him for awhile since there wasn’t enough money for him to visit or for you to go home during breaks. 

Barry said you reminded him of his own daughter, and he let you come back after that night. He even told the other guards to let you in if he wasn’t on patrol. Sometimes he would walk around and chat with you and other nights he would let you go on your own. 

You’re not entirely sure when you started using the hallways to practice, but it was a few weeks later. You would dance in front of the paintings or statues or artifacts. Practice until you got it right. But unlike the stage or studio, you didn’t feel that overwhelming stress, all you felt was peace. 

You’re positive it’s what got you through college. 

When you got the call confirming your spot in the Washington Ballet, Barry and his wife were the second people you called, your dad being the first. They were all ecstatic for you and Barry put in a call that night with a friend that did security in DC.

That’s how you got here, dancing barefoot along the stone floors of the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, a mixture of the soft patter of your feet and the velvet like melody of the music playing through the speaker of your phone, where it lays against the wall, fills the empty air around you. 

You had maybe been here an hour or so, not nearly as long as usual, but for some reason the dance felt off. You felt like your steps and the music didn’t align. Your feet were dancing alone while it seemed the music was almost calling out for a partner, longing for one of the statues around you to come alive and sweep you off your feet. 

Of course, dancing in front of the Captain America exhibit, you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself about that idea. 

Who wouldn’t want one of these hero’s on the wall to sweep them off their feet? 

Not that you’re someone that goes for the muscled up hunk types, you’ve always liked the art nerds more, but everyone can appreciate a man in uniform once in awhile. 

Shaking your head you try to refocus on the beat as it starts over again, taking a refreshing breath before going into your count. You get halfway through this time before you step out and have to stop.

Your just about to step back in when you hear clapping behind you, making you swivel around with wide eyes. 

“Uh, sorry— I just— that was really good. Felt like I should clap or something.” The real life statue of a man says when he meets your panicked gaze.

You were expecting one of the guards to have been making their rounds over here or something, not for the picture on the wall to actually come to life. 

Are you hallucinating? Have you been dancing longer than you thought? 

Maybe you accidentally fell and hit your head and now you’re in some sort of weird hypnotic dream.

Instead of saying something normal like, Thank you kind stranger that’s not really a stranger because I used to see you on the news all the time except for those few years your face was scattered on wanted posters, you went with the option that made you internally wince, 

“Museums closed.”

Smooth, really, because obviously he knows the museums closed. He is fully aware there shouldn’t be anyone else here and yet, here you are, practicing your piece in front of his monument. 

Truthfully, he should be the one to tell you the museums closed. Perhaps he’s taken up night guarding after he retired from avenging and he’s here to kick you out. 

Though, the other guards never mentioned anything. And surely he wouldn’t have clapped if he was just going to throw you out on your ass. 

“I-I know.” He stumbles over his words, as if he’s the one that should be nervous in this situation, “Sorry, I just heard the music and… You’re really good.” “Thanks.” You mumble, and now its your turn to be bashful. Of course, you've heard compliments bout your dancing all your life, but theres something so, genuine, about the blonde comment that you can’t help but be flustered about it. 

He takes a tentative step towards you, reaching his hand out as his next step is more confident, “Steve Rogers.” 

And you want to laugh at that, because you both are aware you already know his name, or you should, considering you’re dancing in front of his monument. You take his hand, introducing yourself with only a slight waver to your voice due to the shock you feel radiate up your arm at the contact. It takes all of your control not to become even more embarrassed, but when you look up to his bewildered face, you theorize that perhaps you weren't the only one that felt it. 

Regardless, you drop his hand and find your focus looking anywhere but him. The silence that now radiates is palpable and awkward, only broken when Steve clears his throat, “Do you only dance in dark museum hallways?”

His words have the desire effect, minimizing the tensioned air that had settled around you both and brings a laugh from your lips, “Uh, no, no— just when I need to clear my head.” “Guess we have that in common.” 

You look up at him at that, your turn to joke with a raised brow, “You dance in museum hallways when you need to clear your head?” And the laugh that now leaves his lips runs through you like fresh air, comforting a piece of you, you didn't even know needed comforting, “Never tried that, no. I usually stick to just walking around them. Are you a dancer?” 

“I dance for the Washington Ballet.”

Steve sends you a friendly smile, his hands tucking themselves into his jean pockets, “I uh, I’ll let you continue practicing then. I’m sure you have a big show or, something, that you’re getting ready for.” His smile is shy as he backs away, “It was really nice to meet you.” 

And you almost want to stop him, this is his area of the museum, technically, but before you can, he’s gone, and with how your brain is working tonight, you’re not entirely sure he was there to begin with. 

Am I going crazy? 

Shaking your head, you reset the music and practice for a few more hours before your feet finally have had enough, and you retire home. By the next morning, you’ve forgotten all about the encounter the night before. Another week of practice and a few more nights at the museum, without anymore special appearances from real life statues, and your show goes off without a hitch, another one soon taking it’s place. 

That’s how you find yourself in the same place a month later, practicing your steps in front of the Captain America Monument. Usually, you didn't care where you practiced, choosing a new place in the museum every time. But since that night, the one where you weren't sure if you were hallucinating or not, your body has either consciously or unconsciously bringing you back to this spot to dance. You try not to read too much into that, just like you try not to read into the ghost of his hand in yours, the way your arm still feels the rush of the shock, almost as if it’s holding onto the warmth it received. 

You practiced for hours, at least, but much like that night, the song feels off. Your steps feel off. Everything feels off. And it makes you want to scream out in frustration. Instead of doing that though, you look up at the picture of the blonde adonis of a man you can’t seem to shake out of your head, blaming him for how thrown off you seem to be, and mumbling a, “Stupid Captain America.” 

“Wow, what’d I ever do to you, doll?” Comes from behind you, and the deja vu you get turning around with wide eyes and a racing heart is comical, the only difference being this time Steve is leaning up against the concrete slab with a smirk on his face.

“Oh my god.” 

Thankfully, Steve doesn't seem upset at your earlier comment, nor does he acknowledge your shock. Instead, he pushes off the wall, hands in his pockets as he walks towards you. His smirk turning more into a reserved smile, “I saw your show.” The shock on your face stays the same, along with your pounding heart, “What? You did?” “It was really good.” He nods, standing in front of you now. You stare at him, surprise still on your face, reeling at the news he actually watched your show, but with some confusion too, he doesn't seem like the type of man to go see a show, “Why were you at a ballet show?” The small blush that settles itself on his neck and cheeks is so endearing it almost makes you want to melt at the sight, “I uh— I sorta, looked your name up after we met.” And you do melt at that, especially when he rubs the back of his neck and looks anywhere but right at your eyes, “I just thought— you’re dancing was so beautiful that night— I wanted to see the whole thing.”

And now it’s your turn to be flustered, again, because it seems to be the only emotion he brings out of you, mostly by his words and the way he peaks at you through his lashes. The blue of his eyes is mesmerizing, like looking at the stars in the night sky, something the pictures of him don't bring to justice, and you find yourself wanting to stare at them longer. 

“That’s,” You shake your head, a small smile gracing your features, “Thank you. That’s really sweet.” 

“Yeah.” A small smile of his own on his face as he nods. He looks over to where your phone lays, still playing the music, “Are you practicing something new?” “Yeah.” You nod, explaining the new show that will be happening in a few weeks, “Its— I’m just struggling a bit with the steps.” “Need any help?” Steve questions, and at the questioning tilt of your head, he explains himself, “Just, I could uh, tell you what I think. If you want. I don;t know a whole lot about dance, but, I’m sure a second option could help.” “Sure.” You grin, the acceptance coming out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, not that you would. Having the retired soldiers undivided attention on you sends a sort of rush through your body and brings a whole new set of butterflies you haven't had since the first time you danced on stage. Stage fright is not something you’ve experienced since you were little, and you find you try and hype yourself up in your mind as you restart the music. But at the reassuring smile Steve sends you as he sits on the bench in front of his statue, takes all of your worry away. He’s already seen me dance, what do I have to be worried about? 

This started a new tradition. You and Steve would meet up 3 nights a week. You, practicing through your steps, Steve, telling you his honest opinions. They were mostly praise, but after the 5th time of you reprimanding him, telling him you need the constructive criticism too, if you are to be at your best, and promising you wont take it as anything but him helping you, he started handing it out as well. Though, still far less than his compliments. 

4 months later, this weird dynamic you and the former avenger have built becomes the thing you look forward to the most. Steve does to, he told you that, rather self consciously, one night. You both had shared stories in-between breaks which turned into confiding in one another. It became part of the routine to talk about anything and everything after that. There were even some nights you never even got around to dancing, too busy walking around and the dark museum and talking. 

Like tonight, “I never ran so fast in my laugh.” Steve’s laugh echoes down the quiet corridor as you both walk side by side, “My ma was so mad at us. Bucky was banned from coming over for a whole 2 days.” You shake your head at the story, imagining young Steve and Bucky terrorizing his poor mom with the ‘’pet frogs’’ they decided to catch and bring into the house, “Did you have to bring so many in?” Steve’s grin as he looks down at you is infectious, “We couldn’t catch one and leave the rest! They were family.” “Still,” You laugh, “13 frogs in your house?! You’re luck Bucky was only banned for 2 days. If it was me, he’d be banned for life.” 

“Nah, my ma loved him too much for that.” Steve rejects that idea with a wave of his hand. You both flow into comfortable silence after that, only your steps making noise as you walk around. 

Steve looks down at you again after a few minutes, “You don’t need to practice tonight?” With a shake of your head you reply, “The next show is a duet. Hard to practice without my partner here.” He nods a few times, mind no doubt thinking about something, silence resuming as your walk seems to take you back to where you both first met. A question that has been burning  on the back of your tongue for months now comes to the surface. You usually try and stay away from the topic of his heroism unless he brings it up himself, never wanting to over step, but you can’t stop yourself tonight, “Why were you here? That night we met?” If he’s shocked by your question, his face doesn't show it. His gaze observing the memorial in front of him. His memorial. “Sometimes, I like to come here and just… Sit. I guess. Reminisce on everything.” He shrugs a shoulder, his eyes going over the pictures of his old unit. 

You lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, how isolated he must have felt waking up from the ice alone, all his friends gone, is chilling. No pun intended.

Granted, that was years ago, and he did get one of those friends back a couple years ago, and then went on the run, and then got pardoned when he saved the world, again, but those haunted times must still bother him some nights. You imagine someone doesn’t really move on fully from something like that.

He finally tears his gaze away, looking down at you. He reaches up with his other hand and places it over yours, giving it a squeeze. You expect, like the other times you comforted him like this, for him to let go after, both of your arms dropping to your sides. But he doesn’t. Instead, he searches your face for something, slowly dragging your hand down his arm until he switches hands, holding yours firmly now, linking his fingers through yours. 

You try to keep your breathing normal, but by the way his thumb runs over your pulse point, you know he can tell how fast your heart is beating. 

“I can help you practice.” He whispers and you find yourself watching his lips as he does. “What?”

He steps closer, taking your other hand and placing it on his shoulder, before grabbing your hip, “You said you needed a parter, right?” You find yourself smiling as he slowly starts to lead you in a dance. He doesn't seem to care that there isn't any music and neither do you. You do however raise a brow at him, “This doesn't seem to be ballet.” “I don’t know how to dance ballet.” He shakes his head, his lips pulling up at the corners, his grip on you tightening just a little as he pulls you closer, your noses brushing against each other, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” You whisper out, staring into his eyes that hold so much warmth and affection. Affection you know mirrors in your eyes, growing the longer you spend time with him. “Is this okay with you?” And Steve knows you mean it genuinely. He’s told you the story about the promised dance he didn't get to keep. How, even when he was able to go back, to finally have the dance, he knew then he hadn't found his partner, and returned to wait for the right one again. The breath he releases as his eyes close, forehead resting against yours, is one full of relief and peace, “Yeah. It’s perfect.” 

And you realizes then, quite startlingly, that your solace, the place that has always been the museum hallways, has shifted to the man now holding you in his arms. But you find it hard to care as his lips gently mold against yours, before pulling back and continuing to lead you in a dance that you’re sure makes all the statues in the museum wish they could come to life and enjoy. 

Too bad that sort of magic only happens once in a life time. 

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers fluff #Steve Rogers x female reader #marvel au #marvel fanfic #steve rogers one shot #steve Rogers is retired #and lives in dc again #instead of New York #cause I want it that way #steve Rogers doesn’t go back in time in this #he stays #because that ending was stupid #that’s my opinion #you don’t have to like it #supravenghit500

[glitterock]

the people hating on the dylan mulvaney song just hate fun tbh

#and are transphobic mostly but also hate fun #you don’t have to like it #but it’s so cute #and ppl are just looking for a reason to be transphobic by putting out these fucking think pieces criticizing a song #that’s just supposed to be fun #it’s literally just like TGIF by Katy Perry #like my girlie dylan ate with it #like allow womanhood and girlhood to be fun im living la vida loca being a girlie #like yes there’s suffering involved but if u think dylan hasn’t also suffered ur a fucking brick

[thatgirlstellina]

everything I have learned from this album drop is that people pay attention to everything that doesn’t matter and ignore what does and then get mad when their perception of something isn’t the intention. also misogyny.

#Ttpd #so many women are making posts about how terrible it is but I know if a male artist made this they wouldn’t care too much #You don’t have to like it #But you’re also more aggressive because it’s a woman #Your perception of someone if not their problem.

[banana-themed-url]

Imma need people to actually consume media before criticizing it. Seeing a two-minute trailer is not the same as watching a whole three-hour movie. Oppenheimer (the movie) did not fucking glorify the atomic bomb and you would know that if you 1) watched the movie and 2) had a crumb of media literacy.

There is a real conversation to be had about the movie’s flaws and whether it needed to be made at all but if you think it glorified the bomb or its use then we watched two different movies

#oppenheimer #I’m so sick of this take #especially from people who clearly have not seen it #you don’t have to like it #that’s fine #but engage with it before drawing sweeping conclusions #it’s a biopic not a documentary

[lisanamjoon]

i always find it so odd when ppl start yelling about firing the hair stylist or stylist bc like… how do you know the artist didn’t specifically choose that outfit or hairstyle, y’know? lol it’s so rude

#i’m sure in some cases maybe they don’t choose but still… #i saw where yeri defended her hairstylist & that was so cool to me #you don’t have to like it #but have some manners ffs

[romansmartini]

hey guys if you’re planning on making a vaguepost on the dashboard can you message me with the details and some of the lore behind the vague post you’re making. a vaguepost for the dash and a detailedpost for me. because i like to know what’s going on. if you do this i will automatically take your side because you’ve done the right thing by letting me know what’s up. thanks in advance ❤️

#jillian.txt #believe it or not there is not an active vagueposting situation happening so you don’t have to worry i’m doing the vagueposting here #100% serious about this btw i will keep your secrets and hype you up. i just like to know what’s going on

[mzcain27]

I think game studios should just release their character creators online. For the times when I don’t wanna play the whole game, just the lil dress up part

#yes this is about baldurs gate 3 #no I don’t have a decent computer if any description or a PlayStation #I do wanna play the game but I mostly wanna make my dnd characters for hours #you could literally do it for everything tho #totk outfits and dyes #Skyrim could have it’s 17th release #outfits in shit like assassins creed games #dragon age #fromsoft games #the sims maybe?? #the options are endless pls game devs #video games #nintendo #Xbox #Sony #PlayStation

[aristoteliancomplacency]

Guys.

Y’all.

I…

I just. I just… i have discovered something. And I have laughed too much. I have laughed every time I have tried to explain it to someone. I cannot get through this.

Look. Okay.

There are two things you need to know, here.

First: There’s a style of Greek pottery that was popular during the Hellenic period, for which most of the surviving examples are from southern Italy. We call them ‘fish plates’ because, well, they’re plates, and they’re decorated with fish (and other marine life).

Like this one, currently in the Met:

Or this one, currently in the Cleveland Museum of Art:

They’re very cool. We’re not 100% sure what they were for, because most of the surviving ones were found as grave goods, but that’s a different post.

The second thing you need to know is that when we (Classics/archaeology/whatever as a discipline) have a collection of artefacts, like vases, sculptures, paintings, etc. and we do not know the name of the artist, but we’re pretty sure one artist made X, Y and Z artefacts, we come up with a name for that artist. There are a whole bunch of things that could be the source for the name, e.g. where we found most of their work (The Dipylon Master) or the potter with whom they worked (the Amasis Painter), a favourite theme (The Athena Painter), the Museum that ended up with the most famous thing they did (The Berlin Painter) or a notable aspect of their style. Like, say, The Eyebrow Painter.

Guess what kind of pottery the Eyebrow Painter made?

#tagamemnon #fischteller #can you fucking imagine? #like other painters trying to explain to him that fish don’t have eyebrows #and he’s just like ‘fuck you all at least my fish have SOULS.’ #and people bought them??? #other people were also like ‘FUCK YEAH EYEBROW FISH!!!’ #other people like me. #I would 100000% buy the eyebrow fish

[cock-holliday]

Sometimes wild attraction shit happens when you learn to separate masc/fem from man/woman. I’ve known queer women find the femininity in a man attractive. I’ve known gay men get so hot and bothered by the masculinity of a woman.

There was once a guy who was not really my type but then he did drag and was suddenly wildly attractive to me. And since I’m bisexual it doesn’t give me a crisis when someone is suddenly hot to me in an unconventional way. I used to think this was particularly a bi experience.

Then I’ve met plenty of gay men and lesbians who are also chill about that sort of thing. Sometimes life is like that “oops made out with a twink in Brighton who turned out to be a lesbian who thought I was a lesbian” and sometimes it’s like “hey, I’m not normally into men but this guy has got something hot going on.”

#and this of course leaves out androgyny in all its formss #or feminine masculinity and masculine feminity and so on #gender and sexuality are weird #don’t get too hung up on it #you don’t HAVE to like anyone #someone liking you doesnt mean you have to return it! #AND two people who you don’t think should fit together fitting together doesn’t affect you literally at all #LJsm

[acidgirl]

#if one more person tries to act like netflix sending a mediocre band to a picket line as a form of retaliation #is an actual thing that could happen i will kill you #also if you guys can’t handle a little jab at one of the most milquetoast pop bands of the current era #iiiiiiii don’t think you’re ready for this website or the internet in general #just because somsone does good stuff does not mean i have to like their stuff

[counting-stars-gayly]

I’m actually LOVING how Rick Riordan, and the other writers of the show, took his initial concept of a Percabeth rivalry fueled by that of their parents and kind of turned it on its head?

Now, instead of Annabeth being wary of Percy because he’s a son of Poseidon, he’s wary of her because she made a callous impression on him. They get off to a rocky start even before finding out who Percy’s father is, and when they finally do, Annabeth doesn’t care. Instead of them fighting because of who their parents are, they’re fighting over their own opposed worldviews.

Then, instead of them arguing over which of the gods is cooler and who was right in the story of Medusa, they realize that, just like Medusa, Annabeth is a victim of her mother and that, unlike Medusa, she is a far kinder and stronger person, unwilling to repeat the cycle of hurt. They realize that, like his father, Percy often acts without considering potential consequences and that, unlike his father, he is a far kinder and stronger person, willing to step up for someone he wronged and whom he cares about.

Instead of Percy and Annabeth’s rivalry being focused on that of their parents, it’s focused on who they are, themselves. But the path to friendship is still the same: a realization that they have each other’s backs, no matter what, because they’re not their parents after all.

#i kind of typed this in my essay voice because I knew it would be long so ignore that #also I don’t actually know which of the other writers are playing big parts in percabeth’s story so threats why I put a focus on Riordan #that’s* #aaaaanyhoo if I’m being honest I definitely prefer this version of percabeth #AND I like that Medusa said ‘‘we are not our parents until we choose to be. you three have chosen’’ implying that she thinks they’ve chosen #to be their parents only for Percy to reveal in the next episode that he’s chosen to be better than his father. #that was a really nice touch 👌👌👌 #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo disney+ #percy jackson disney+ #percy jackson #annabeth chase #Percabeth #rick riordan #Medusa #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #pjo tv spoilers

[theoldkyokodied]

The Allegiance of the Ascended Vampire and the New God of Magic

#bloodweave #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale x astarion #astarion x gale #gale dekarios #astarion ancunin #yes this is about astarion helping gale defeat mystra and take her place with the crown in exchange for gale helping him with the ritual #the ‘they can make each other worse’ part of their relationship turned to the max #I enjoy them being reluctantly soft for each other more but from time to time I just think about how powerful they could get together #toxic evil boyfriends. take love and twist it up until it’s unrecognisable #I like to think that astarion approached gale with that offer after realising no one else in camp is gonna help him #and that he can use gales own hunger for power which backfired when astarion actually became emotionally invested in gale #and after gale kept his word despite everyone’s concerns astarion changed his plan from not fullfilling his end of the bargain to actually #helping gale kill mystra (mostly so that gale could belong to him and him alone. and letting him take the place as a god bc having a god #at you beck and call is definitely appealing. especially one as eager to please as gale) #anyway what I want to say with this is please please please let me kill mystra i don’t even care if the weave gets destroyed again

[mumblesplash]

i know it’s like years old at this point but i love that one collab mumbo and grian did with tommyinnit bc it’s like the single most concentrated example i’ve seen of mumbo’s Chaos Nullification Powers

you get to see a bit of it on hermitcraft, mostly via his interactions with grian, but until seeing that collab it didn’t really hit me just how completely mumbo can no-sell other people’s attempts to control a situation. tommyinnit is possibly the single shoutiest, most chaotic minecraft youtuber out there, and in most videos i’ve seen he pretty much overwhelms everyone else and sets the tone for interactions because of this. but mumbo just. doesn’t let him. no matter how much tommy escalates in intensity, mumbo reacts with *exactly* the same energy he always does. grian largely comes across in the whole video as annoyed and reluctant to engage with the whole thing, but mumbo’s not even affected. he just rolls with anything he finds funny and basically ignores anything he disapproves of, only seeming more and more unflappable the harder anyone tries to get a rise out of him.

AND imo, this is the key to my favorite interpretation of him as a character

see, when the people around him are being more reasonable/calm, i think mumbo often comes across as anxious and a bit easily overwhelmed. the thing is, his nervous wet cat vibes do not scale. he has one setting. his responses to the last life ‘ah-ha!’ jokes and to hermitcraft 8 starting to crumble to pieces under a falling moon are almost identical.

mumbo jumbo is inexorably and eternally Just Some Guy, but that gets stranger and stranger the weirder his surroundings become. the giggly incredulousness that makes him an easy target for goofy puns looks Very different when it’s also his reaction to the impending end of the world.

#anyway yeah i have this whole idea in my head about mumbo’s friendship with grian from a characterization standpoint #bc i agree with the somewhat? common consensus that being friends with mumbo has made grian softer and friendlier over time #but i don’t think it was in a ‘reflecting back the kindness he’s being shown’ way #i think it’s because the more harsh and chaotic you try to be towards mumbo the more you feel ineffectual and out of control #and grian can’t handle it so he slowly becomes nicer until he feels like they’re on equal footing again #like don’t get me wrong i think they genuinely are good friends #and i don’t think this is necessarily something mumbo is doing on purpose #but i think the power dynamic going on under the surface is much more bizarre and weighted in mumbo’s favor than it seems at first glance #mumbling