I think one of th things with soldier is that a lot of the times ppl just put him at his Maximum Everything. Maximum idiot maximum LOUD. But the thing is hes not really at 100 all of the time. Hes a very 0 to 100 type character. In the comics at least. Like i remember rereading the first comic and just sort of being fascinated by how he Is. Chill isnt really the right word but I dont know how else to explain it.
“The heart makes its own rules” what are you saying.
Anyways i think part of soldiers whole thing is that he operates in his own world on his own rules. He will say shit so casually or matter of factly but hes not always screaming it. Sometimes hes just. Saying things. With a tone that could convince you he knows what hes saying until you register the words and realize he is saying nothing sentences to you.
567 notes
·
View notes
I think it genuinely cannot be overstated how important that kiss in season 2 of Good Omens was.
From a plot standpoint, that kiss showed Crowley's desperate attempts to keep Aziraphale, to reel him in and back to the Us that they had built upon.
But from just a show standpoint, they. fucking. kissed.
Obviously their love transcends physicality, and Neil has said that Good Omens is a love story even before season 2, but the outright confirmation of a widely popular queer ship ON SCREEN is just so... Unheard of.
Every fandom or show has their trademark gay couple that aren't-really-gay-but-also-kind-of-are-gay: Merlin and Arthur, Sherlock and John (very heavy offender), Dean and Castiel (okay this one was canon, but we all know what happened IMMEDIATELY afterwards), and I suppose at some point Ineffable Husbands had just been included in the same category as the rest of them.
And to have it be moved from mostly fandom and fan work fuelled to outright canon - like 'they fucking kissed on screen' canon - is just so fucking fantastic.
It's not vague, it's not lines that are blurred for the sake of being on the fence of appealing to two audiences at once, and it's not only canon because the creator just said it's canon without rhyme or reason purely for the sake of appealing to a queer audience (looking at you, Ms J. K. Rowling) - it's undeniable, blatant evidence that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love.
And yes, at the moment it's devastating, but it's also devastatingly real. And that's so important.
Especially with the release of Our Flag Means Death, I really do hope we are entering a new era in mainstream media where queer ships finally aren't treated as some sort of mysterious prize that the writers dangle in front of you like a carrot on a stick, and are just simply treated like any other ship out there.
Because if so, then queer kids will be growing up to these shows, see this new era of unabashedly queer media, and won't have to hide away their ships like some dirty little secret. They won't have to wonder if their representation is even representation. They won't have to get excited over being able to see the small chance of themselves represented in a character only to be let down so incredibly badly, because queerness is good only when it's marketable.
So sure, ending season 2 like that is fucking crazy, but you know what's crazier? Whatever the fuck Neil just did with that kiss.
1K notes
·
View notes
codtwt is going off on brainwashed!soap bc of his new warzone skin and it’s making me think of ghost deliberately getting himself captured by makarov bc he knows he’ll be given to his dog to try and break him; knows he won’t be able to resist the irony, the cruelty of being tortured by the teammate he lost
he doesn’t fight; welcomes the chains around his wrists and ankles, welcomes the hands stripping him of his weapons and gear until he's defenceless
he wouldn't use them anyway
when he stalks into the room, the muzzle, the scars, not even the blank hatred or lack of recognition could make him mistake his eyes
that's his johnny
he doesn't flinch as he digs knives into his skin; would never shy away from his kiss even if it's tinged with rusted steel. doesn't swallow his screams; not when he always loved hearing him, when he spent so long coaxing his voice from the grave
frustration joins the anger in johnny's eyes the longer he goes without giving up information
just jokes; dark and puns alike
just advice when he can't get the jumper cables to spark right
ghost's not trying to escape; not trying to barter his return to the 141
he's right where he wants to be
329 notes
·
View notes
I've been doing a lot of reading lately about the history of vampires in fiction and how the vampire as we know it today first entered literature, and the subject is honestly fascinating. The traditional folklore around vampires and vampire-like creatures is largely very different from what we'd think of as a vampire today, and it's also very different from how vampires appeared in even their earliest literary incarnations.
For one thing, there's nothing particularly alluring about most traditional vampires. They're bloated corpses that have crawled out of their graves, not dashing mysterious counts in lonely castles. They're not a particularly stylish or sexy monster.
However, from pretty much the moment that western literature first turned to the vampire myth for inspiration, writers saw something in the concept to sexualize. The poem "Der Vampir" (The Vampire) by Heinrich August Ossenfelder is often cited as the first ever true literary depiction of a vampire (published 1748!), and it is about a man corrupting a chaste and religious woman through his unwanted kiss/vampiric bite. John William Polidori's 1819 short story "The Vampyre" is widely seen as the first work to truly codify vampire fiction, and the titular Vampyre Ruthven is in large part inspired by the womanizing Lord Byron. Le Fanu's Carmilla depicts an intense attraction between Carmilla and her victim Laura. Stoker's Count Dracula is a man with overly flushed lips and hair on his palms, marks of Victorian fears of sexuality.
From the very start, vampires in literature have been a sexual monster. They're emblems of the seductive and terrible—the kiss of death that you can't help but be drawn to anyway. A violent forced intimacy that will corrupt you and drain away your very life force. There's a great deal of xenophobia and fear of the un-christian in early vampire fiction as well, but the fear of sex and sexual assault have always been a driver of literary vampires' horror and allure. Writers seem eternally split between desire for the vampire and revulsion at that very lust, even from the moments that the creatures first graced the page.
There's a great tradition of vampiric fiction both using vampirism to evoke sexual predators and making vampires themselves desirably sexy. Thus, given that it is very concerned with sexual assault and bodily autonomy as themes, often uses predation by a vampire to evoke sexual violence, and is deeply horny about vampires and blood drinking, Jun Mochizuki's The Case Study of Vanitas is actually one of if not the best modern successor to the canon of early vampire literature. In this essay, I will
458 notes
·
View notes