I also don't think it gets said enough that a bunch of people reacted with a visceral kneejerk reaction against 13 and co, or just with total apathy, actively because they were presented with a woman in her mid to late 30's in an outfit that wouldn't be out of place at a pride parade (or maybe in the toddler clothes section) that was in no way sexy (unless you're gay), a south east asian muslim woman, also dressed in outfits that do not show skin, a black man, and an older white guy that people aren't gonna be fantasising about because he's slightly Too old for that one even if fandoms Think they like the old guys. They don't. They mean 30 year olds and Walsh is twice that.
There are So many fandoms out there that have an absurd cult level following where, if you look, the Show/movie itself doesn't have that fandom, the young white men in the cast do and people ignore literally everything else even when other characters are there.
Like, as with all things, there will be people who just don't like it. But these sort of patterns repeat and repeat and repeat in different fandoms, and you get the odd exception to the rule, but they're still exceptions.
13's era does not Have a white man of the right demographic that wasn't just a one episode guest star. Like, at all. The recurring men are Dhawan, that guy who played that obnoxious american who was too old, and Anderson playing Vinder. And Karvanista if we want to be accurate. But he played a dog.
That is Absolutely a thing that effects fan reactions. I don't like it, but it is.
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Please, dearest parental figure, can we get a snippet of moon and soap after she has decided to come plop in his lap? I love the feral cat metaphor so much.
(Totally don’t have to if you’re not in the mood for it of course)
Yeah let's do some Soap POV cuz I love writing for the boys.
The living room is dim save for the flickering light from the television. Soap leans against the arm of the couch to avoid getting caught in the lovey dovey vibes emanating from the other side of the couch. Ghost takes up enough space on his own without Goose cuddled up next to him. If he cranes his neck he can see you popping popcorn in the kitchen, you lean against the counter in a way he thinks might be unbecoming of someone pretending to be a nun. It's more interesting than the movie anyway. He watches you with his hand against his cheek, and wonders if you're ever going to get it through your head that he's serious about you.
For fuck's sake there's only so much room a man can leave for Jesus before he starts assuming you don't want anything to do with him. Or, nothing with any feeling to it. It's all good fun sneaking around but at some point a fella has to wonder if you're just in it for that, fun.
You're so pretty. You're so damn pretty. Fearless, stubborn, always thinking you know best and so fucking- God. He must be crazy to love you like this. You certainly aren't as consumed by it all as he is. Prickly little- You take the bag from the microwave and dump it in the previously full bowl, stealing a few pieces for yourself. Soap doesn't bother to hide his staring when you catch his eye, he smiles, and watches your expression soften a little before you can catch it.
You make your way back to the living room and hold the bowl out to Goose, who takes it graciously, never taking her eyes off the movie as she grabs a handful of popcorn. Soap assumes you'll take your seat in the armchair again, cozy yourself up with one of the blankets. Maybe you'll even fall asleep, then he could have a reason to ask you to stay the night.
The wheels are turning in his brain, churning out plans and casual asks, when you sit on his lap. Every muscle in his body tenses, too afraid you'll move to even breathe. Move you do, settling a hand on his knee to find a comfortable spot and driving an anxious affectionate stake even further into his heart. You mumble something and start to stand again, Soap can't let that happen.
It's a gamble pulling you to lean back against his chest, spreading his legs a little wider to give you room as you tense under his hold. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Goose move her legs over Ghost's lap, his hand holding the outside of her thigh to give more room. Damn good friends, Soap thinks to himself. You're another issue, settled in his lap, legs neatly between his, and still as tense as a man waiting to be executed.
"Sorry, I'm not," you mumble, a hand on his thigh, a threat that you might try to get up again, "I'm not good at this sort of thing."
"Couldn't give a rat's ass," Soap tells you, quiet as he can manage. He can't make you relax but he can certainly make you more comfortable. He can settle your head against his shoulder, box you a little closer to the arm of the couch, rest his hand on your knee and rub his thumb against the cotton of your pants until you go boneless against him with a soft sigh. You certainly don't feel bad at this, whatever this is. Cuddling, God you're so- Overthinker, he's adding it to the list. Fearless, stubborn, smart-ass, overthinker.
You press your face a little closer to his neck, grip his shirt between your fingers. Cuddly little thing. Soap turns the kiss your forehead, wraps his arm around your shoulders instead of just letting you rest against it. Just like that, he thinks, isn't that nice? All cuddled up like a proper sweetheart.
Just for him. You don't have to be sweet for anyone else, and he sure as hell isn't going to ask you to be. But maybe once in a while you can be sweet for him.
You pull back and Soap's arms tense around you before he feels you touch his jaw. Gentle fingers that draw his attention down so you can kiss him, soft and slow. Christ if he could marry you on the spot he would. Goose can notarize, Ghost can witness, all he needs is a priest. Where the hell is Gaz when he needs him?
"Comfortable?" He asks when you pull away and tuck your head under his chin.
"No." You don't make a move to leave his lap, but Soap didn't think you would. Getting a proper yes out of you is like pulling teeth. He doesn't mind though. You're cute when you try to lie to him.
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I hope y'all saw the way Leah carried this episode. She is the people's Annabeth Chase. Also someone said percabeth mirrored Poseidon and Medusa in this episode. And they do because once again there's a girl who is extremely loyal to Athena being punished for the actions of a guy. The fact that Annabeth is Athena's daughter adds layers to it because it shows she really doesn't give a damn even when it's her blood. Which is messed up considering how Annabeth defended her. Like I was nervous when Annabeth told Percy to try talking to his dad because that definitely would have pissed her mom off but apparently it didn't matter.
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I don’t usually make posts like this, but I’ve been seeing a lot of anti-intellectual junk lately, and I really think we need to put the word “pretentious” up on a shelf until people learn what it actually means.
It doesn’t describe someone who likes artsy-fartsy deep meaning media. People who are pretentious are fake. They’re posers trying to be sophisticated and unique, not like other girls. They pretend to only like stuff they think will make them sound cool when they talk about it. They want to act like they know something you don’t, and they want attention for it.
By definition, if you genuinely enjoy something, you can’t be pretentious. If it resonates with you, and you analyze it, and you don’t care what people think, that’s the polar opposite, actually. If you love obscure experimental prog music, if you watch underground high concept indie films through English teacher eyes, if you spend hours in a modern art museum reading each piece as a vessel for storytelling, if your backpack’s full of poetry books that inspire you, if you play underrated games that were someone’s passion project, if you have an interest in studying the classics or the masters, you are not pretentious.
Of course, some people just don’t like some stuff, and that’s fine, but that’s not what this is about. Don’t let anti-intellectuals shame you for enjoying things just because your interests are inaccessible to them, because they refuse to be brave and put effort into critical thinking. You’re not stuck up for refusing to overlook the craft of artists.
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