#this time she was bothering me on purpose and she was like ''i like it when you're upset''

[sashi-ya]

𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗿 +18 figarland shanks x f! reader x figarland shamrock

🩸 tw: one piece manga #1137 spoilers! if you don't know who shamrock is, careful! 🩸 tw 2: mdni. nsfw. threesome. dp. oral. rough. man handling. insults. 🩸 a/n: hi, how you doing ~ I said I wanted to write it, and I did. Did I totally ignore the fact I need to pack my suitcase? yes. And did my slutty needs win? also yes. Please enjoy. Don't expect much characterization about Shamrock or a very accurate relationship with Shanks as we barely know him. also, I now asume the "shanks" on the left is not shanks but Shamrock since he went to see the Gorosei and we all thought it was Shanks. 🩸wc: 1.5k

“Who could have said it was that easy to bring you back home, brother!?” “Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this”

In between two men that look so alike, and still so different, you find yourself. Restricted by soft, noble hands with ill intentions… you were maybe only a bait.

“It’s ok, Shanks. He didn’t hurt me!” you scream, trying to tame his instincts. You know that the red-haired pirate’s Haki can stop you from breathing -and destroy everything around as well-

“See? She is not lying. I have taken care of her, brother! You shouldn’t leave your little toys scattered around the ports of this world, or else someone else might stole them!” Shamrock Figarland mocks Shanks, yet he does in such refined way it ends up sounding like a truth you might already believe.

Shanks eyes fix on yours; perhaps he knows something you still don’t know. Perhaps, he understands his brother might be right. Leaving you on that port some months ago, crying, feeling used, was something he didn’t want, but ended up doing.

“I must admit you have a great taste, brother. She is such a sweet treat” Shamrock purrs, having your waist surrounded by one of his arms, while his free one caresses your cheek. “Aren’t you?” he continues.

The emperor can’t stop himself; even if Shanks is rarely bothered by immature and stupid actions that are meant to tease him, this time it did actually enraged him.

Gryphon’s edge ends on Shamrocks neck, with you in between two man exhorting dominance and testosterone. Shanks sun bathed skin, with salty traces from the sea… Shamrock’s one, pale, clean, soft, used to the finest things…

“Stop!” you whine, pressed in between their chests. “Stop, please! Stop fighting over me!”

Shamrock laughs; he doesn’t seem disturbed by the burning blade against his carotid, and in fact he keeps adding fuel to the fire.

“You are scaring the lady, brother… do you think she is gonna prefer your brutal attempt to save her instead of being treated like a queen?” he smirks, pulling you against him more and more.

Shanks puts down the sword, slowly. He needs his hand free now, to touch your face, to lure you back at him.

“Should I save you then? Or should I let you choose in between him and I?” he whispers, using his fingers to lift your chin up.

The difference is notorious even though both have the same purpose; possess you. Shank’s calloused hands, versus, soft, never used hands… how to pick just one? If both are irresistibly desirable?

“I don’t wanna choose; I love you, but you left me alone… I don’t love your brother, but he gave me what you took from me” you murmur, perhaps already regretting your decision.

“Ah… then you want us both, don’t you?” Shamrock says, moving your head to look at him instead of his brother.

“You want us both, (Name)?” Shanks asks, this time forcing you to turn your head to him.

Both have their hands on your mandible now; cris crossed, their thumbs close to the commissures of your lips, and their hips plastered against your body. Both hard, both erect. Both desperate to assert dominance, to devour you like beasts, like a hungry dragon.

Oh, sweet prey you must bleed to death in between their jaws. And you are totally fine with that… “I want you both; I want you Shanks. I want you Shamrock-sama”

The tips of his similar swords already cut your clothes, tearing them to pieces, leaving them like rags scattered around you.

Nudity, delicious and tempting, served on a silver platter to them. Shaking, you receive their fangs on each side of your neck, carving marks on your flesh.

Shamrock’s fingers tangle in between your hair, pulling your head back, making your breasts bounce.

The Figarland brothers’ lips abandon your collarbones to kiss your nipples; each attack one; sucking or biting. The difference on stimuli you loudly whine, with legs trembling and slowly failing you to keep standing up.

“Don’t fall, come here” Shamrock lifts you up from your waist, pretty much ripping you from Shanks’ mouth. You get seated on a rocky bed, somehow like a sacrifice altar. Elbaph castles all look the same.

Shanks grunts, watching his brother walk around the cold cot as you lay on your back. And, immediately after, he crawls in between your legs.

The pirate pleasantly finds out you are dripping wet, something he knows very well about you.

“Go first if you wish; as an act of kindness, I’ll let you have her first” the knight spits, acting as if he is the only one commanding. “I’m gonna have her warm mouth around me, anyway”

You gasp, as they both look with pure hatred into each other’s eyes. Yet, the moment breaks as you are given little pats and slaps to look to the side; as Shamrock just said, he wishes your mouth surrounding his sex first.

“Open, baby” he orders, softly. And you do, sticking your tongue out while you wait for his hardness to go deep into your throat.

His white pants don’t even need to go fully down; he is not even bothered to do it; his sex out will be enough. Drippy and delicious, it lands on your tongue. You receive it, pleased.

And as he begins to pump in and out your mouth, you begin moaning and choking.

“Such a slut…” Shanks whispers, looking at your oral spectacle, at the way the corner of your eyes fill with tears as you gag with his brother’s dick.

And, while he thought he cared about your body being used by someone so close but still so different from him, the idea of you being exactly used is what got him harder than ever.

“Now let’s see if your cunt can still handle me” the Yonkou grunts, dragging his palm up and down your sex, getting it coated with your juices. From your perineum to your clit, fast, enjoying the humid feeling of more and more wetness, forcing your legs open as they tend to close in response.

Shanks changes his palm for his two fingers, gladly anticipating the way your walls will clench around his dick when he finally buries deep inside you.

Shamrock laughs while using your face as a fuck hole; a tight grip on your hair to move your head, to make it bob, like you didn’t matter, like you were just made to please his “holly” dick.

“Keep your legs open, little slut” Shanks orders, going faster and harder, masturbating and getting your insides ready for his upcoming intrusion.

And just before you could burst, the redhaired stops the fingering. Maybe to punish you, or maybe just because he can’t wait no more. He needs to replace his fingers for his rock-hard shaft. It has started to hurt from the desire, from the desperation to fuck you.

That desperation, leads the pirate to slide his dick deep inside you without a warning, without any delicacy or love. Just pure madness, making your insides revolve and your body retort.

“Wow, easy brother…” Shamrocks grunts, forcing your mouth to keep surrounding his shaft. “You are gonna break her” he continues, laughing as if he wasn’t doing the same.

“Shut up” Shanks grunts back, going harder, using his arm around your waist to keep you from shaking, manhandling you for his own pleasure. “Keep fucking her, use her, it’s all she wants… slut”

In any other situation you would have feel yourself sad or insulted, but Shanks is right… all you want now is to be used, fucked by them…

“Then, let me fill her whole too” “Now you are asking for permission?” “Come on… you know me, I still have some codes”

Shanks scoffs; stopping his hips from punishing you with brutal rams, he lays flat on his back.

“Come here, ride me and get ready… slut” the pirate commands, allowing you to crawl and straddle your hips on his lap. You let your shaky body to fall on his sex, feeling all the length reaching deeper than ever. “Good girl…”

You start riding him, while Shamrock’s presence quickly surrounds you from behind. He kneels and pushes you from your back to fall a little on Shanks chest. “I’m sure your cunt can handle the Figarland pride just as well” Shamrock whispers on your ear, tickling your shoulder with his long hair, letting his tip slowly slide your already occupied entrance.

It takes barely seconds for both to be finally penetrating you, and also for them to start fucking you at unison. Your hips lost the war, and now it’s theirs that move.

“That’s good slut, that’s very good… you can take us both so well…” “Let us fill you up until you can’t keep it inside…”

You are just a toy, trembling, stretched, used, fucked by two of the strongest men in the world. And what a pleasure it is to know you took the right decision, why picking one if you can have both? ~

[itsnesss]

HI may i request a junho fic where junho keeps seeing reader and arresting her and taking her into custody and she keeps saying “this is the last time you’ll see me” and then he arrests her like two days later and hes like “are you doing this on purpose?” and reader is like “maybe” and then it escalates from there into freaky time 🤭🤭

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | criminal behavior (theft), smut, explicit content, p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 2.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You know what you're doing is wrong. You know it perfectly well. However, the risk and the possibility of being caught keep you moving. Your fingers graze the edge of a chocolate bar in a small convenience store. "It's no big deal," you tell yourself. A candy here, a poorly secured wallet there, always minor things. You don't need to do it, but something inside you pushes you.

You're about to leave the store with the chocolate hidden in your sleeve when you hear a familiar, firm voice behind you:

"Stop right there!"

Your heart skips a beat. It's him again. Slowly, you turn around, facing those dark eyes that seem to pierce you every time they meet yours. It's Officer Hwang Jun-ho, the same man who caught you a couple of weeks ago.

"You again?" he says incredulously, crossing his arms.

You smile as if it's some inside joke between the two of you.

"I guess I'm consistent, Officer."

He doesn't seem amused. His lips press into a thin line as he takes a step closer, making you instinctively step back. He observes you for a moment, as if trying to decipher your intentions.

"Hand over the chocolate," he says finally, extending his hand.

"What chocolate?" you ask with feigned innocence, raising your hands as if offended.

Jun-ho has no patience for your games. In a quick motion, he grabs your wrist and retrieves the candy from your sleeve. His touch is firm but not painful. You feel trapped, but not in a way that bothers you.

"You’re under custody for attempted theft," he declares, pulling handcuffs from his belt.

"Seriously? For a chocolate bar?" you protest, though you make no effort to resist.

He doesn't answer, simply leading you out of the store toward his patrol car. As you walk beside him, you can't help but notice him. There's something about his seriousness, the way his uniform fits his figure, that makes you want to provoke him even more.

The second time he catches you is at a street market. You're playing with a cheap keychain, pretending to be interested, when you "accidentally" slip it into your pocket. You barely take two steps before feeling a firm hand on your shoulder.

"Really?" Jun-ho says, his voice laced with incredulity.

You turn to face him, putting on your best innocent expression.

"Officer? What a coincidence."

He doesn't seem impressed. His gaze is stern, but you can see a spark of something else in his eyes. Maybe curiosity. Maybe irritation. Maybe something even he doesn't fully understand.

"Let’s go," he says, guiding you once again to his patrol car.

The ride to the station is silent this time, but the tension in the air is palpable. You can feel his gaze on you occasionally, as if trying to figure out your intentions. When you finally arrive, he lets you go with another warning.

"Don't do it again," he says with a seriousness that almost makes you feel guilty.

Almost.

The third time, you decide to be more obvious. You grab a pair of expensive headphones from a display case in a mall and head for the exit without even trying to hide them. It’s a bold move, but you know he’ll be nearby. And you’re right.

Before you can leave, you feel a hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"This has gone too far!" Jun-ho exclaims, his voice filled with frustration.

You turn to face him, trying hard not to smile.

"Oh, Officer, I thought we wouldn’t meet again."

He stares at you, his jaw clenched.

"What are you doing? Why do you keep doing this?"

"Why do you think?" you reply, leaning slightly toward him, invading his personal space.

Jun-ho seems thrown off for a moment, as if unsure how to respond. Finally, he leads you to a secluded alley instead of the station.

"Talk," he demands, crossing his arms. "Why do you keep stealing? You don’t need to do this. I know that."

You take a step closer, closing the distance between you.

"And what if I told you I do it for you?"

He blinks, surprised.

"What?"

"Maybe I like seeing you like this," you say, your eyes locked on his. "So serious. So frustrated. Maybe I want your attention."

Jun-ho studies you, his expression a mix of confusion and something deeper.

"Are you saying all of this was intentional?"

"Maybe," you murmur, leaning in even closer.

He grips your shoulders, his gaze searching for something in yours.

"This is insane," he murmurs, but he doesn’t pull away.

"Then stop me," you challenge, your voice barely a whisper.

Before you can say anything else, he kisses you. It’s an unexpected move, filled with all the tension that had been building between you two. It’s not soft or gentle, but it’s everything you hoped for. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart as the kiss deepens.

His hands, initially on your shoulders, slide to your waist, pulling you closer. Rationality takes a backseat as both of you get lost in the moment. No words are needed; everything is conveyed in the way his lips move against yours, in the way his hands hold you as if he doesn’t want to let go.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless. Jun-ho looks at you with a mix of disbelief and something deeper.

"I can’t believe this just happened," he says, shaking his head.

You smile, still catching your breath.

"Maybe I should steal more often."

He chuckles softly, though his expression remains serious.

"You’re trouble, you know that?"

"And you seem to enjoy solving it."

Jun-ho sighs, but he can’t hide the small smile forming on his lips.

"This doesn’t change anything. It’s still my responsibility to stop you."

"Please do," you reply with a wink, knowing this won’t be the last time you provoke him.

Jun-ho takes a deep breath, trying to regain control. But his hands remain on your waist, as if he can’t bring himself to let you go. Suddenly, his eyes harden with determination.

"This is insane," he murmurs, stepping back. His hand moves to his belt, pulling out the handcuffs.

"What are you going to do, Officer? Cuff me?"

He doesn’t respond. With a swift and efficient motion, he secures the cuffs around your wrists. The metallic click of the locks makes your heart race even faster.

"Are you seriously taking me to the station for this?" you ask, but there’s a playful tone in your voice, as if you’re enjoying this turn of events.

Jun-ho studies you for a moment, and for the first time, he seems to hesitate.

"No. Not to the station."

"Then where?"

"To my apartment. We need to talk."

The seriousness in his tone surprises you, but you don’t have time to question it. He leads you to his car and helps you into the passenger seat, your hands still cuffed. The silence between you during the ride is heavy, charged with palpable tension.

When you arrive at his apartment, he helps you out of the car and escorts you inside. The space is neat, minimalist, but cozy. Jun-ho carefully removes the cuffs, his fingers brushing against your skin.

"Sit," he says, gesturing to the couch.

But instead of obeying, you step closer to him, challenging the distance he’s trying to maintain.

"Do you really think you need to do this?" you murmur, your words a whisper between the two of you.

Jun-ho closes his eyes for a moment, as if trying to gather his strength. But when he opens them, something in his gaze has changed. He grabs your arms, his grip firm but not aggressive.

"I don’t know what you do to me," he confesses in a low voice, his breath brushing against your skin.

"Then stop overthinking," you reply, leaning toward him.

This time, the kiss you share is even more intense than the last. The tension that had been building for weeks finally erupts in a whirlwind of emotions. His hands find your waist again, and yours slide up to his neck as you both surrender to the moment.

Without breaking the kiss, Jun-ho guides you toward his bedroom. The intimacy of his personal space only heightens the heat between you. The touches grow more desperate, breaths mix, and clothing begins to disappear, piece by piece.

Your heart races a thousand miles an hour, but there is no fear in it. Just need.

When you both fall into bed, you are aware that everything has changed forever. This is not just sex. It's much more. It's the culmination of all the times it caught you, challenged you to continue, gave in to your provocations.

When he positions himself over you, his eyes lock onto yours for a moment before taking his time. He positions himself between your legs, caressing them as he enters you. Both of you gasp, the pleasure simmering slowly inside you. Jun-ho's movements are slow, deliberate, as if he were trying to prolong this moment forever.

"I'm very close," he murmured softly, his teeth finding the lobe of your ear. "And you?"

"Yes," you whisper, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you both reach climax.

The pleasure that envelops you is overwhelming. It's not a simple orgasm, but a profound experience, something that changes you from within. They both stand still for a moment as the world readjusts around them. Then, their lips find yours in a soft kiss, but full of meaning.

Later, while they lie together in bed, their bodies intertwined, Jun-ho looks at you with an expression that mixes exhaustion and tenderness.

"This wasn't in the procedure manual," he says with a weak smile.

You laugh softly, caressing his face.

"Maybe you should write a new one" .

He sighs, kissing your forehead.

"You are a lost cause" .

"And you are completely stuck with me, officer".

[mya-valentine]

I loved your Bleach Headcanons with Renji!..

Can I please have some headcanons where Ichigo, Rukia, Orihime, Uryu, and Urahara meeting a Soul Reaper who goes on Long-term missions ( can be gone for months at a time), and ends up running into them. And ends up saving them without knowing who they even are? (She has hallucination powers so potent they can effect the blind)

(She also wears a mask, and her robe has a hood on it. (She doesn’t show her face or body to ANYONE (her eyes can still be seen tho)

Headcanon: Meeting Mysterious Soul Reaper

Ichigo Kurosaki

Ichigo is immediately on edge when he encounters this Soul Reaper. Her masked and hooded appearance sets off his instincts, and he assumes she’s an enemy at first. The fact that her powers can affect even the blind both impresses and unnerves him.

Ichigo is grateful but frustrated by how little he knows about her. He tries to talk to her, but her reluctance to reveal her face or identity drives him crazy. He admires her strength but can’t shake the feeling that she’s hiding something big.

He starts making it a personal mission to figure out who she is, even pestering Urahara and Rukia about her. He can't stand being left in the dark about someone so powerful who seemingly vanishes after helping him.

Despite the mystery, Ichigo comes to respect her skills and her willingness to help without expecting anything in return. Her independence reminds him of his own.

Rukia Kuchiki

Rukia is more intrigued than suspicious. She sees the masked Soul Reaper as someone with a purpose she doesn’t fully understand but can’t help respecting. Her long-term missions hint at responsibilities that most Soul Reapers aren’t entrusted with.

Rukia is impressed and slightly uneasy about her powers. She wonders what kind of person can wield such an ability and still remain mentally stable. It reminds her of how dangerous certain abilities in the Soul Society can be.

Rukia tries to engage with her in a formal and polite way, but the masked Soul Reaper’s reserved nature makes it difficult. Rukia eventually respects her desire for privacy and leaves her alone—though she’s curious about what she’s hiding.

Seeing her in action, Rukia feels inspired. She wonders if the Soul Reaper’s long-term missions have forced her to become so closed-off and isolated, and Rukia feels a deep sense of pity for her, even if she never says it aloud.

Orihime Inoue

Orihime is immediately fascinated by her mysterious aura. She finds her masked and hooded appearance cool and asks a ton of questions, which are likely ignored or deflected.

After being saved, Orihime is the most openly thankful of the group. She tries to offer her healing powers as repayment, even if the Soul Reaper seems indifferent to it.

Orihime can’t help but feel that the masked Soul Reaper must be lonely. She tries to talk to her more than anyone else, offering kindness and warmth, even if it’s not reciprocated.

Orihime wonders what’s behind the mask and hood, but she doesn’t press. She assumes there’s a tragic reason for the secrecy and respects her boundaries, even if she wishes she could help her open up.

Uryu Ishida

Uryu is initially skeptical of her intentions. Her anonymity and the nature of her powers put him on edge, especially since Quincy history is full of betrayals by Soul Reapers. He watches her closely, always assuming she might have ulterior motives.

After seeing her in action, Uryu grudgingly acknowledges her skill. He respects her precision and efficiency, but her refusal to reveal her identity bothers him. He wonders if she’s hiding her face due to guilt or shame.

Uryu is fascinated by her hallucination powers. He speculates on the mechanics of her abilities, theorizing that they might work on a spiritual or sensory level far beyond what most Soul Reapers are capable of. (It's not him, it's me. I'm wondering)

While he respects her abilities and the fact that she saved them, Uryu is content to leave her be. He doesn’t trust her fully and would prefer to keep his interactions with her professional.

Kisuke Urahara

Urahara likely already knows of her existence and long-term missions, but he doesn’t let on to the others. He greets her with his usual playful demeanor, testing her patience but secretly observing her closely.

Urahara might subtly prod her about her identity or past, using riddles or humor to catch her off guard. If she doesn’t respond, he just laughs it off and respects her silence.

He’s especially intrigued by her hallucination powers. Urahara wonders how she developed such a unique ability and whether it has any drawbacks. He may even offer to “study” her powers in his lab, much to her disinterest.

While he’s curious, Urahara understands the need for secrecy and doesn’t push her too far. He admires her dedication to her duties and the sacrifices she’s made for her role, perhaps seeing a bit of himself in her.

.

.

.

[cbk1000]

Here is another preview of that sequel to the fic where two morons run around in the Yorkshire countryside not cottoning on to the fact that they have enormous crushes on one another:

By the time they had made themselves appropriate for public consumption, meaning that one of them was no longer sporting some sex hair, and the other was sporting no more than a manageable semi, the usual suspect had arrived, though they had driven all that way in sunlight. It was not like one of those ghastly outings on the moors, where the rain was driving as hard as the plough horse; this was one of those considerate rains, which had laid itself like a filter on the landscape. It had blurred out what was hard or no-nonsense about the land, and made it a thing which was for that frivolous purpose of beauty: in the lake was a watercolour of the castle, and beyond it the oak trees which might have been stern in their aeons were now like approachable elders. There was no naked eye which could fathom where the grounds were ended; and in the midst of them it seemed like all the world went on like that, that they had gone from that quiet civilisation through which they had driven in the daytime to this utopia in the gloaming. It was not yet noon; but already the world seemed to be on the cusp of itself; to be in the grey rainlight melting back into that land which is shortly to be under the moon.

“Hold hands, or no?” Merlin asked, shrugging on his jacket, which he did by getting in one arm reasonably enough, and then flapping about like a moron seeking the other. 

“For God’s sake,” Arthur said, and stuffed it in for him, and then, clearing his throat, answered the question by grabbing Merlin’s hand with a minimal secretion of sweat; then he saw his father coming across the lawns, and made a liar of the previous clause.

��I’ll bite him in a heartbeat; just say the word,” Merlin said under his breath, and then his father and the man he was walking with were within earshot, and Arthur was not certain whether to clutch or drop Merlin’s hand. There was an impulse almost to throw it; and with a bloody-minded grimness he held onto it, feeling it was the only thing anyone would see in all that beauty. His father’s face tightened, and smoothed; and he said to his companion as all four stopped, “David, this is my son, Arthur, and Arthur’s friend. Arthur, this is David, the groom’s father.”

“This is Merlin, my boyfriend,” Arthur said stiffly through his teeth. 

David took it neatly in stride; and said without any acknowledgement of Uther’s omission or Arthur’s resentment, “You’re Lisa’s cousin, then? Nice to meet you both. Are you the veterinarian chap? I thought Lisa mentioned Arthur was dating a vet.”

“Yeah. I work for a surgery in Emberford. It’s my uncle’s practice; I moved down a year and a half or so ago to take over a lot of the livestock work, since he’s starting to get on a bit.”

“Well, listen, not to bother you on your holiday, but we’ve brought our dog, actually, my wife and I, and she seems a bit poorly this morning. Would you mind taking a look?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“Thanks; Uther, nice chatting with you, but I’m going to nip in and steal these blokes for a moment. Sorry, my wife just adores her, and she’s been fretting all morning.” And he broke off from Uther’s side, and settled in at theirs. They went striding away in the mist, which was beginning to style Merlin’s hair though he himself hadn’t bothered; and as they left his father behind, Merlin began to trot out the usual line of questioning, asking about any changes in her behaviour, and what might possibly have preceded them. Then David, checking over his shoulder said, “Oh, no, she’s perfectly in trim. Just thought it was a real cock move, wasn’t it, saying you were his friend and not even telling me your name? Can’t stand that sort of rubbish; it’s the fucking twenty-first century, is it not?  But listen, Sheila, that’s the dog, would be absolutely chuffed to meet you lads, so come on and I’ll introduce you, and then I’ve got to get changed. My wife’s already sent me four texts.”

“We would be chuffed to meet Sheila,” Merlin said cheerfully.

[musubiki]

.🖤🔄🤍.

[gunstellations]

itll be alright

[e-adlirez]

Spoilers for Sinsmas/Sinsmas ramble

So I had Sinsmas paused on my browser to do life stuff as usual, I Will Be Okay was in my head, and I walked back to my computer after life stuff and realized the frame I had it paused on was

D

Do you see what I'm seeing

Their positions aren't just similar, they're reversed. In "I Will Be Okay", Via is on the floor and Stolas's shadow is standing up, looking down on her and reaching a hand to her from above, which she swats away. At the end of Sinsmas, Stolas is kneeling on the floor, with Via looking down at him from above, and her hand resting on Stolas's, which she pulls away from.

AND THE PARALLELS AND REVERSALS DON'T END THERE

From what I could see, it seems like there's only one instance where the parallel doesn't totally apply.

This.

Merry Sinsmas, Helluva Boss fandom :D

:'D

[grongleboy]

every time i discover another queer woman character being fucked over by the writer(s) i start biting rocks and breaking things and making bombs to explode big time

[ilovecoffeeandchemistry]

ooooh i woke up in a bad mood and it's so hard not to be a bitch about it

[callixton]

i adore my department head to death but i do wish she wasn’t so transphobic. hurts sometimes

[frostbite-the-bat]

I'm GOIGN back to sleep soon and abt this one I kngnow I don't use it it's pronouns officially but I've been Thinkin about it bu it's funny when my parents jokingly use Czech it it's on me like "oh hey that Thing it's awake haha" and like no ur right that's how you refer to me thanks I've been gender affirmed before bedtime again

[rubys-domain]

at this point i dont even care if i get kokomi. i just want a 5 star

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

I'm not judging her involvement in the crime based on this, but I do have to say that Arabella is exactly the kind of girl who has always made me most uncomfortable. so I can certainly relate with Eliza in that. :')

[shithitsmynipples]

Called the dentist to inform them I’m sick. The receptionist was very nice and told me not to feel bad about it and to feel better thank god

[jungleboy-cruise]

I get screamed at every single day and it's always for stupid shit but it never stops hurting like it's the first time

[bethanydelleman]

I'm really tired of the "woman sad about her arranged marriage" trope, especially if that woman is royalty.

I am sure that many women across time were sad about their arranged marriages, but I'm sure a lot of others were excited, ambivalent, or resigned. Again, especially if you were royalty! I am sure if you were born a princess, you were trained from birth that your whole purpose in life was to marry someone important to solidify the power of the person on the throne. And honestly, it's an important job, if it wasn't, they wouldn't have tried so hard to do it.

That woman isn't just marrying another king or prince, she's going to be an ambassador of her country. She's supposed to be there promoting good relations. She isn't just a woman being sold off, she has a job! Also, if she is marrying the reigning monarch (or the heir), she may well end up running the country if the king is off at war or he dies when the heir is really young. That happened a lot throughout history! (or maybe she marries the third son and helps him find his way to the throne. Good for her)

It just feels like a modern sentiment being projected back. In Romeo and Juliet, when Juliet's mother first brings up marrying her to Paris, Juliet's basically cool with it and says she'll try to like him. She would have known this was going to happen because that is what rich women do, they marry into another family so their two families can be buddies. What else would she even be expecting?

It wouldn't bother me so much except that it's all we see! Give me a story about a woman who is like, "Cool, I shall give it my all!" Or she's like rolling up her sleeves and planning how she's going to get the court on her side and rule France, power behind the throne style (these women are mostly portrayed as villains, but who is to say the king would do a better job?). And also, have a little faith in women's fathers? You think men in the past didn't occasionally consider the happiness of their daughters? Not even a little bit?