Note the dialog between Sam Wilson and Jane Foster, the fake Thor and the fake Captain America as they close in for combat with monstrous foes (see at about 9.35)

“Jane: Frost Giants. Small ones. Sam: They don’t look so small to me. Jane: They will once we are finished with them.Sam: I guess I can give the old threads some action this one last time. Jane (flourishing a honking, huge warhammer in her tiny, little, delicate, nurse’s hands): If this is truly the end of your time as the Captain, then let us make the most of this day. Jane (continuing): There will be the sweet taste of combat, then of mead, then, perhaps. of your lips. Sam: Kissing can wait. For now, let us stick to punching.”

Keep in mind, True Believers, that this is supposed to be the selfsame Jane Foster who was the love interest for Don Blake, the real Thor, back in the day.

And the writer has the woman proposing the hot smooching after getting roaring drunk on mead, while all the while exalting in the glories of smashing bones, splattering brains and blood and hearing the screams of the disemboweled and dying foemen, and seeing them driven before you, and hearing the lamentation of their women.

Yup. That is Jane Foster. Just the same person as this.

https://www.scifiwright.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/08.jpg

Note that back in the day, each sentence ended in an exclamation point. That is because everything was exciting! In the modern day, each sentence ends in a period. Nothing is exciting. Nothing matters.

The change between two entirely opposite personality types, from loving and caring nurse to brutal barbarian she-man is entirely organic and reasonable. Whatever.

Or, just maybe, on the other hand, these writers are sociopaths, with no native understanding of human emotions or interior human life, and so they cannot portray people except, perhaps, like the stiff and absurd caricatures seen on Soviet propaganda posters.