The Strawhats are all very fiercely protective of each other, they care about each other in equal measures, but I love that they’re always the quickest to act when its matters concerning Robin. Robin is who they express their protectiveness and love for must often and most explicitly. if its for her, even a member of the ‘coward trio’ like Nami will threaten to beat up CP0 agents. Yknow like the “How dare you make Robin cry?!” misunderstanding in Egghead, and everyone vowing to protect her in Punk Hazard and blushing like crazy when she says she trusts them? And it doesn’t just make me happy because Robin is a character that I hold dear to my heart, but in a meta way, I appreciate to see so much love being expressed towards like? An older woman?
Not that Robin is an OLD WOMAN by ANY MEANS, the woman is thirty. But she’s very unique as a character because as an older woman, she doesn’t serve any of the usual spots in the Strawhat’s life. She’s not their mother, their mentor, their boss. And she’s very independent, physically strong, and one of the most brilliant and knowledgeable people in the One Piece universe. She’s not someone’s charge, their daughter, or their pupil. She’s not even, like, actively being asked to use her skills to help Luffy’s mission, Luffy has no personal interest in the poneglyphs and ancient histories of the world, she’s doing that because she wants to. And it’s so. neat that she’s allowed to do that? An example of an adult woman in fiction who isn’t being pressured to be strong for anyone, and even more than that, is at every turn treated gently and reminded that she can rest, she can rely on others, that she will be protected. That she is loved for being herself. That is so neat? It is so unique?
Oda is NOT a shining example of feminism guys, (often the opposite), I know this, I am not delusional. But a character that fulfills this specific female fantasy of being seen as adult and capable and intelligent, but without the drawback of being expected to play caretaker- being so casually cooked up and presented by some guy? That’s pretty neat. I’m high-fying him over that for sure
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Idle Hands
Summary: Whenever Tony forgets to go to bed, it's always been up to you to bring him back to your side.
Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader
Warnings: Heavy on the softness compared to most of my other stuff; I was in a very sentimental (read: sad and touch-starved) mood back when I wrote this lol. Tony Stark is a TEASE both in word and deed -- I have said it is canon therefore it is now. The feral way he makes me feel should be illegal. Also you can read the...implications of my vague wordings towards the end as tame or as smutty as you wish ;)
I feel the need to mention here that Tony Stark has been my most favorite comic book character since I was but a mere 11 years old. He holds the distinction of being my longest-running fictional crush/object of my obsessions and I love him so deeply and for so many little reasons that I could write a PhD dissertation on him. So please enjoy my little love letter to the man that has held my heart for nearly a decade and a half <3
It's that point of the night where you really can't decide if it should be counted as ungodly late or ungodly early. 4:00 am does tend to scramble the thoughts.
You've been drifting in and out of an uneasy sleep for what feels like forever, and as you roll away from the digital clock display on the wall with an annoyed sigh, you suddenly see why.
The other side of the bed is utterly untouched.
He hasn't been here with you at all.
You sit up, trying to remember if he had plans tonight. The calendar app on your phone has no record of a gala, awards ceremony, board meeting, or anything else that might have taken up his time.
Which means he's probably down in the lab again.
Briefly, you contemplate trying to call him, but you know from experience that he probably isn't taking calls right now, even if FRIDAY tried to put one through for you. He's in that zone that only designing and building can put him in, the one mindset where his too-busy brain is crystal clear and the world at last makes sense to him.
So you pull yourself out of bed, throw one of his old sweatshirts on over your cami and pajama shorts (he keeps the AC cranked all the way whenever it's warm outside) and pad out of the bedroom and on your way downstairs.
His lab is awe-inspiring as always, no matter how many times you see it. The purring thrum of the generators and the comforting pulse of dimmed lights, the heavy, electric feeling of the air itself -- he's described his workspace to you as having a life of its own before, and you can understand so well why time escapes him down here.
You just hope he's not using it to escape from other things as well.
He's deeply absorbed in his work on something at a station opposite the door, and your heart skips a beat even as you smile fondly at the familiar sight. Clad in sweatpants and a black tank through which you can just barely see the blue glow of his arc reactor, he looks all at once more human than usual and like some being from another world entirely.
It's the Stark curse, he told you once, and you recall the wry slant of his lips as he said so. To know you're a god trapped in a mortal body, an infinite mind with a finite number of years to use it. It's the reason behind all his greatest triumphs -- and all his harshest falls from grace.
And somehow, you were lucky enough to be the one he fell in love with.
It still feels like a dream sometimes.
Realizing he isn't going to look up on his own anytime soon, you stifle a yawn and knock sharply on the doorframe.
"Tony?"
He stiffens as if he's been shocked (always a possibility, when he's rewiring) and shoves the safety glasses high up on his forehead. "That would be yours truly. Everything alright?"
With a laugh, you cross the room, warmth rising in your chest as he immediately sets down his tools and steps out from behind the table to meet you. And damn, he always looks good -- he is Tony Stark, after all -- but there's always something about him when his hair gets all unruly and he has THAT look of intense concentration on his face that really drives home to you all over again just how gorgeous he is.
You cuddle up to him, and he kisses the top of your head.
"Asked you a question, Honey."
"Do you know what time it is, Tony?"
There's a prolonged moment of answering silence as he glances up at one of his nearby monitors. "Crap. Well, why are you up?"
Pulling back slightly so you can tease the protective eyewear off his head, you give him a look. "Can't sleep."
An eyebrow tilts; he's playing dumb.
"And that's my problem why?"
"Jerk." You take your time playing with his glossy dark hair, neatening it back up before raking your fingers through it to mess it up again. "Maybe because you love me...?"
"Oh, so you're down here looking for sympathy, got it." He smirks at you, a well-practiced and infuriatingly handsome look. "In that case, sorry about your insomnia, Beautiful. There's melatonin in the drug cabinet upstairs." He snares the safety glasses from your fingers once more and makes as if to return to his work. "Sympathetic enough for you?"
You wrap your arms around his waist from behind, stopping him from going any further, though the smug son of a bitch starts tinkering with his new designs again even through your persistent clinging. It mesmerizes you for a couple seconds, always has, the way his hands work with such delicate precision and dexterity, and you can't help selfishly wishing he would turn them towards other, less...mechanical endeavors at this moment.
He probably would, in all honesty, but Tony Stark is the king of making you work for it. Philanthropic he may be, but some things even you have to earn from him when he's feeling particularly devilish.
"I don't want your pity," you hum, pressing a sleepy kiss to his shoulder. "I was lonely without you."
"Perfectly understandable. I've been told by many that I'm scintillating company. You can, by all means, stay and watch me work, you know. Feeds my humble ego."
You roll your eyes and impatiently reach up under his shirt, feeling his muscles tense at the unexpected coldness of your hands.
That finally gets his attention and makes him turn around. Before you can even fully comprehend it, he's swept his work out of the way and lifted you up onto the worktable instead, restless fingers drawing intricate patterns on your inner thighs, though his eyes never leave yours, crystalline blue pinning your attention to his amused face instead of his very distracting hands.
"That," he grins, "was adorable. Sleepy version of you is so much more demanding. Maybe I should stay down here too long more often."
You try to frown at him, though his sparkling gaze and mischievous touch make that impossible. "How dare you."
"I do a lot of dumb things to see where they get me. You know that." He nods at the thick gray sweatshirt still keeping you warm. "Why don't you take that off for me, Sweetness. You make me cold, I get to return the favor."
Unable to come up with something snarky to say in return with the way his hands are making you shiver now, you do as he suggests with little resistance, the exposed skin of your arms and chest prickling at the much cooler air.
He leans in to tenderly kiss your neck, and your breath leaves in a sigh at the way his facial hair scratches at your throat. He's always been a helluva kisser and the meticulously maintained goatee is just the icing on the cake. Making out on his worktable was not the original plan when you first came down here, but even by his own admission Tony's best plans are usually improvised.
And you're certainly not complaining.
"What did you want from me again?" he murmurs, close to your ear.
The absolute audacity of him.
"Mmmmmmm," seems to be about all you can manage at the moment, and you know very well what's coming next.
He pulls you closer to him, the movements of his fingers turning agonizingly slow and prompting a slight gasp from you.
The smile that gradually spreads its way across his mouth is absolutely wicked.
"What was that, Sweetheart? I didn't quite catch it."
You try to reclaim some semblance of coherence, but his firm hold on you prevents you from escaping his delightfully systematic torture, so instead you grab on to his well-defined shoulders, your forehead resting against his chest. The mechanically-stabilized beat of his heart echoing beneath his skin a brief reminder that he's alive, despite everything he's been through, and he is yours. There's no one else on his mind, no one else he's let this far into his messy and often painful world.
The world may know him as Iron Man, the one who has saved them more times than they could ever count, but how many people really know the Tony that you know?
That same Tony who now raises one hand to tip your head back, whose sharp eyes soften with affection for the slightest of seconds before the anticipated words fall from his tongue, the words he knows will always unravel you.
"You just have to tell me what you want. Come on, Princess. Use your words."
You shudder and lean in to beg for another kiss.
"You, Tony. Always you. Please."
He kisses you back with renewed intensity, leaving you completely breathless.
"There we go...was that so hard?"
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angry about saw 3d again im going to rant abt the public execution trap
so like, the public execution trap is innately sexist as all hell and tina is a caricature of a woman. the basic premise is this:
brad and ryan, two college students, are sitting opposite to each other with a spinning saw blade between them. their girlfriend tina, another college student who has been cheating on them both and manipulating them to 'do crimes' for her, is hung up on the ceiling above them, dropping down towards the blade. brad and ryan can either leave the sawblade where it is, killing tina when she drops on to it, or they can fight and kill the other, saving tina in the process.
for starters, tina is the kind of character that like. if I asked a 4chan user to describe the behaviour of women to me, they'd probably describe tina one to one. she's a conniving vixen, basking in the attention these two men are giving her and playing them both. when the game starts, she tries to play them, cheering for whoever is winning and claiming she's 'always loved him', until the other gains the upper hand at which point she switches teams, indicating her two faced, selfish nature. this is an opening trap - we are not granted any more time with these three characters. we know that she is a manipulative bitch, and that's all.
chad and bryan aren't particularly different in this regard. they're just as flat as tina is. they're both stupid frat bros easily egged on by the closest woman giving them attention. I'm going to be honest I don't remember which is which but until tina switches sides when white boy 1 overpowers white boy 2, they're both eager to save her and kill the other. white boy 1 catches onto this though, and he and white boy 2 agree that the other is not their enemy. they allow tina to drop onto blade, one of them exclaiming 'tina, I think we're breaking up with you!' right before she is gruesomely murdered in front of them.
from the character's perspective, this is justified. she was, after all, playing them both. without a doubt it is a horrible position to be in, but in the context of their relationship troubles, both white boys are innocent, more or less. neither of them knew that tina was dating the other. she was hurting them both, and didn't really care about either of them, switching teams to try and save herself without a care as to which one made it.
but it's always important to remember that someone created these characters and this situation.
tinas character is a sexist trope, a whore who plays with men for her own gratification. she's a succubus, leading innocent men down the path of evil, and this is how she is played. she is costumed so her cleavage is on display, she's been manipulating these boys into committing crimes for her (this is not elaborated on), and letting her die is framed as the correct choice. her death is a punchline, one of the frat bros dropping a one liner right before she is murdered.
she is the one who did the most wrongdoing, cheating on her partners and pushing them to crime on her behalf, but notably, it's not her test! she has absolutely no power in the situation. instead, the two men are being tested - will they continue fighting each other to save her in spite of the pain she's caused them, or will they acknowledge that they are both her victims and work together at her expense? her life is in their hands.
someone wrote a woman who is manipulating two young men, in which the two men agreeing to let her die is the correct and cathartic option. her death isn't something to be mourned, it's to be celebrated.
and look. if it were just this scene, maybe it would be fine. it would still be gross for the reasons outlined, but it wouldn't make me side eye the entire creative team behind this movie as much. but it isn't just this game.
there are 6 individual games (public execution, horsepower trap + the 4 from bobby's larger game) played in this movie. 5/6 feature a female hostage who is entirely powerless and must be saved by a man. none of them survive. this is totally ignoring the treatment of jill tuck, one of this movie's protagonists who gets not one, but two different deaths in this movie in which she is horribly murdered by another man, and both are framed as something to be excited about.
you're allowed to kill women off. you're allowed to write about toxic evil women who convince men to do bad things. but come on dude. when not a single one of the women in your movie are written with more than one personality trait, aren't allowed to be anything more than a damsel, you need to start looking inward. what the fuck did they put in the water in 2010 that made everyone working on this movie hate women this much
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