#sorry for the rant but i just needed to get it out because it’s been pissing me off

[hanniebaeee]

Honey Cakes

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: established relationship, smuttyyyy, fluff

Summary: Hyunjin had it all planned out - a romantic dinner date (plus the surprise). But then he gets almost stood up, and then edged to near insanity. By the time dessert is done, so is his patience.

a/n: Someone sent me something, and I went feral ( @kittentaegu sweetheart, thank you for inspiring me hehe)

The first thing you see when you wake up is chaos in the form of a hundred texts and missed calls from your boyfriend.��

You are still groggy from sleep, but your heart nearly stops as you pick up the phone.

Hyunjin [7:30 PM]: Baby. Love of my life. Where are you?  

Hyunjin [7:30 PM]: I swear to God, if you’re dead, I will kill you.

Hyunjin [7:31 PM]: I’m literally sitting here looking like an abandoned puppy.

Hyunjin [7:32 PM]: The waiter asked if I needed water and was looking at me funny. 

Hyunjin [7:35 PM]: Just say it. You don’t love me anymore.

Hyunjin [7:36 PM]: I was a fool to believe in love.

Hyunjin [7:38 PM]: BRB ordering the most expensive wine so I can SOB into it.

Hyunjin [7:40 PM]: There's a happy couple at the next table. Omg I wanna die 😭

Oh, shit.

Your heart drops as you realize that your fifteen-minute power nap has turned into a one hour coma. It had been such an exhausting day at work, and all you wanted was to take a short nap before you met Hyunjin for your dinner date.

And now your dramatic ass boyfriend is left unsupervised in a fancy restaurant with his overactive imagination. You fumble with the phone as you call him immediately. He picks up in half a ring.

“Oh finally you called,” he sighs, voice dripping with melodrama. “Just say it.”

“Say what?” You sit up too fast and almost fall off the bed.

“You stood me up for thirty minutes,” he declares dramatically. “I am SITTING HERE ALONE in a romantic, candlelit, EXPENSIVE ASS RESTAURANT, looking like a HEARTBROKEN FOOL.”  

You press your lips together because you absolutely cannot laugh right now. Not when he’s being so serious about his suffering.

“Hyunjin, baby,” you say, raiding your wardrobe for something that will make up for this little mishap. And you grin as your eyes land on that dress. 

You haven't worn it before. Another one of Hyunjin's gifts - because he daydreams of you in all pretty outfits his eyes fall on and comes home with the said outfit, begging you to wear it for him. 

“I didn’t stand you up, I just -”

“Oh, so neglect is different from abandonment now?” he challenges, sniffing for dramatic effect. “Interesting.”

“Baby I accidentally took a nap -”

“Oh my God.” He gasps. “You slept through our date?”

“I love you Jinnie, and I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t gaslight me with love.”

You do a quick job with your makeup, and he's still ranting on the other side as you grab your keys and sprint out the door.

“I’m on my way right now, honey bun, I swear.”

“You’d better be,” he grumbles. “Because if I finish this glass alone, I’m throwing myself into the restaurant fountain.”

When you get there, panting from running in heels, Hyunjin is sitting at a candlelit table in the corner looking like a masterpiece and a neglected princess all at once.

You rush over, but before you can even apologize properly, he exhales exaggeratedly. 

“Did you have a nice nap?” he says coolly, twirling his wine glass.

You bite your lip, willing yourself not to laugh.

“Hyunjin, baby -”

“No. It’s fine.” He looks away dramatically. “I understand.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You slide into the chair next to him, lean in so close your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “I said I'm sorry, baby. I'll make it up to you.”

His entire body freezes as your warm breath fan his neck. Then he exhales, eyes dropping to your neckline, hand gripping his wine glass tight.

“This dress…” he mutters, clearing his throat.

“I knew you'll love it. I also haven't eaten all day, so I’m starving.” You smirk, running a teasing hand down his thigh.

He chokes on air.

“Okay. I’m sure we can work this out,” he announces, eyes dark. “In fact, I am not even mad anymore.”

“Thought so.” You grin cheekily, and Hyunjin sighs because it's no secret that you have this man wrapped around your little finger.

He rests his chin on his hand as gazes at you, a soft smile playing on his gorgeous face.

And just when you think that you've won this round, Hyunjin reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a cute velvet box.

“I was going to wait, but honestly, you’re gonna put me in an early grave. So let's do this, yeah?”

Your heart stops as he opens the little box and inside it sits the prettiest ring you've ever seen. His eyes are so gentle, so full of love - none of his usual teasing or the drama. Just him.

“I had a whole speech ready for this, but you stood me up and I panicked and I -”

You swallow hard as he rambled on. He's stumbling on his words, and he's so sweet, you just want to squish cheeks and cry for days. 

“So, marry me?” His voice is so soft as he asks you that, and he's looking at you with those pretty puppy eyes, and you are sure you feel the sting of tears forming in your eyes. 

“You sure?” You tease. “I did stand you up just now.”

He groans, head dropping into the table with a mild thump.

“Just say yes before I have a heart attack.” he says, looking up at you with a smile. 

You laugh, cup his perfect face in your hands, and say the only thing that’s there to say.

“Yes.”

And Hyunjin, the love of your dramatic life, kisses you breathless before slipping the ring on your finger. And you both giggle, foreheads pressed together, and he whispers, “We’re gonna need more wine now.”

Less than fifteen minutes later - Hyunjin is suffering, to say the least. 

Like, genuinely on the verge of passing out in this very fancy restaurant where he just proposed and you said yes. Because instead of rushing home to let him show you just how insanely in love with you he is, you’re… eating. 

Like nothing life-changing just happened. The diamond ring glittered on your finger as you ate like you haven't eaten in days. Literally wolfing down the pasta in between long sips of wine.

Like your hand isn’t resting on his thigh, your fingers idly stroking his inner thigh in a way that is definitely NOT innocent. 

And Hyunjin?  He is in shambles.  

You moan as you take another bite of that darn pasta, completely oblivious to the way he grips the edge of the table like his life depended on it. 

"This is so good," you sigh, licking your lips. 

Hyunjin closes his eyes. Lord, grant me strength.

You hum in absolute bliss, and say, "Baby, you have to try this -"

Try? TRY? Oh you've been trying him for the past fifteen minutes. And now he wants to try something, alright.

He wants to drag you out of this restaurant, throw you onto the first surface he finds, and have his way with you. There is a lot he wants to try right now. 

But no.  Because he’s a gentleman. A respectable, self-controlled, newly-engaged man (who's so close to losing his shit). 

"Are you okay, honey bun?" you ask, blinking at him with innocent, pretty eyes. And Hyunjin forgets how to breathe for a second. 

His thigh tenses under your touch, and he swallows audibly.

"I’m fine," he grits out. 

You tilt your head, unconvinced.  

"You’re not touching your food." 

Because his appetite is for something else entirely, and it is not on this goddamn menu.

"Just -" He clears his throat, shifting a little in his chair. "Just thinking." About all the ways he's going to wreck you the second you both leave.  

You hum thoughtfully, dragging your hand up his thigh just a little higher, and Hyunjin prays. Because if you don’t stop, he is fully prepared to drop to his knees in the middle of this restaurant, and beg for you to let him take you home immediately.

You stab another forkful of pasta and beam at him.  

"So, what are we getting for dessert?" You ask, giving him a sunny smile. 

Hyunjin blinks. Dessert? Then he laughs. It’s a broken,  hysterical laugh. Like he just realized he might not survive the night. And you just smile sweetly, your hand still very much resting on his thigh, way too close to a growing problem. 

The final nail in his coffin was of course, dessert. 

Honey cake. Warm. Moist. So damn sweet. You take your first bite, and Hyunjin swears he saw stars.  

Your head tilts back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting in pure bliss. And Hyunjin stops breathing. So this is how he goes - sweating in his silk button down shirt, rock-hard under the table, watching a damn cake give you an orgasm. More like a foodgasm? 

You let out a soft, sinful moan, and Hyunjin grips the table for dear life. Oh hell. 

You lick the spoon slowly, completely unaware that you are seconds away from being dragged out of this restaurant by your ankles.  

"This is so good, Jinnie," you murmur, voice low and warm. "You have to try this."  

No. He cannot. He physically cannot. Because he was this close to throwing you on the table and getting banned from this restaurant for life.  Which, honestly, might be worth it at this point.  

But then you load up a spoonful, hold it up to his lips, and whisper, "Open up for me, baby."  

OH. SO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY. 

Hyunjin glares at you, jaw so tight he might break his own teeth. But when has he ever denied you anything? He parts his lips, because he’s a damn fool. 

The second the cake melts on his tongue, his eyes slam shut. It's warm and sweet. And it is so deeply unfair that whatever culinary masterpiece this was, wasn't even close to what he actually wanted to taste right now. 

He groans, head falling onto the table again, rolling the taste over his tongue. And when he opens his eyes again, you are grinning like the devil you are.

You tilt your head, eyes full of mock innocence, and murmur, "Good, right?"  

Hyunjin inhales so deeply his lungs feel like they're ready to collapse. He stares at you and leans in, lips so close to yours, as he whispers, "Finish your cake. Then we're leaving. And when we get home, I hope you're ready, baby." 

The moment your fork clinks against the empty dessert plate, his soul fully detaches from his body. Okay. It's done. You're done. 

Now he can finally do what he has been plotting for the last two hours. His chair scrapes back so fast, and he grabs your wrist, and nearly drags you up and out in record time. 

You giggle shamelessly as Hyunjin literally throws you into the passenger seat of his car.  

He slides into the driver's seat, slams the door shut, says nothing for a minute. His head falls back against the headrest, his chest rising and falling as he tries to regulate his breathing. His fingers flex against his thighs.  

And you? You are having the time of your life.  

"Honey bun, why are you so tense?"

Hyunjin lets out a deep laugh. 

"Tense?" He turns his head to look at you, his blown-out eyes locking with yours. "Baby, I have been on the verge of dying for the past two hours." 

You bite back a grin, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to his neck.  

"Mm." You hum against his hot skin. "So dramatic."  

His hand snaps out, grips your jaw, forcing your face up and his lips barely brush yours as he growls, “Wanna say that again?”

The minute you two step into your shared apartment, Hyunjin has you pressed up against the door. And he doesn’t just kiss you. He devours you.

His hands are everywhere at once - one tangling in your hair, the other gripping your ass, pulling you flush against his firm body.

He kisses you like you owe him your soul for making him suffer like that. He's so hard, it's literally painful, and he can't wait a damn minute.

He lifts you up, hands gripping your thighs, making you gasp and wrap your legs around his waist, as he pins you there, caging you between his body and the door. 

His kisses are messy and sloppy, and he's sweating so damn much. You kiss down his jaw and neck and he groans as you nip at the skin around the little black mole on his neck.

Well he couldn't wait anymore. He's stumbling through the apartment, straight into your bedroom and drops you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off. You watch him strip, your eyes roaming his perfect body. 

And his eyes are on you, his hands reaching down and under your dress to pull your panties down your legs and off. He quickly gets rid of the rest of your clothes before your lips connect again. 

He's so impatient. Grabby and needy. But the minute he's finally inside you, he slows down. Because if he didn't, he'd be cumming without literally any action. 

It’s so slow and deep, and both your bodies are so sensitive with need. Your body arches into his, desperate for him to touch you. 

It doesn't take long for both of you to come crashing down from your peaks, and you can barely breathe. Sweaty, breathless, completely spent -  you’re both a mess. Hyunjin’s chest heaves, skin glistening in the dim light. Even his skin was so damn dramatic. 

“I have never known pain like tonight," he says, voice hoarse, eyes closed. 

You snort, nuzzling closer to kissing his damp shoulder.  

"You survived, baby." 

His arm tightens around you, rolling you over so he can pin you underneath him again.  His dark eyes flicker down, lips trailing down your jaw, your throat and your collarbone.   

"Barely."  

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world

[ceo-of-sloppy-women]

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her

Chapter 13

read it on ao3

Chapter 14

CW: alcoholism & heavy drug usage

You know you have to find some way to get through to her, but every time you open your mouth, she outright snarls! You’re nearly back at Zaun, and you still haven’t managed to get a word in edge-wise, too afraid she’ll snap at you and leave you in the mountains to fend for yourself. Yet, your hands knit together in your reigns, brows furrowed, watching her in the vain hope she’ll turn around and demand you spit it out.

No such luck.  

Eventually, you’re fed up and can see Zaun peaking over the horizon. There’s still a leg of the trail to go – twisting down the mountain and into the valley – so you muster all the courage (and audacity) you have left in your body to finally speak.

“What the fuck was that back there?” It comes out harsher than intended; you cringe at your own words.

Sevika’s head whips around, glaring you down as if she can get you to shut up again. She speaks haltingly as if each word is a poisoned dagger: “Drop it. It wasn’t anything. We encountered a horde. That’s it.”

“You almost died, Sevika!” you counter, urging King up alongside Duchess. “Died. As in: I would have been left alone in Piltover to find my way back to Zaun with or without your corpse. And now you won’t even let me talk about it! We should have started heading back the moment you began limping, not three hours afterwards, when we finally got caught. I don’t understand you; one moment, you’re perfectly fine with asking for help; the next, you stiffen your lip at the barest inkling that maybe that injury did more to you than we know. It’s fucking dangerous as Hell!”

“Drop it,” Sevika growls, shoulders tensed as she glares at the ground in front of her.

“No, I will not! Do you even know how it felt when I realized you weren’t behind me? I thought you were dead. That I was going to have to drag the corpse of my best friend out of the bottom of an infected horde just to give you a proper fucking burial. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’ve got a death wish or some fucked up complex; that was the worst fear I have ever felt in my life! And I have run from – Hell, even gone up against – infected hordes by myself with nothing more than a machete. So, I’m sorry that I won’t ‘Drop it’ because you are trying to brood away the pain instead of appearing weak, but I’d rather you have admitted you needed a fucking break than put both of us in that position! I don’t give a flying rat’s ass if you can’t do everything you could before your leg got bit or you lost your arm because I never really knew you before those. You’re not weak to me if you’re in pain, Sev’ you’re just human. Given all the fucked-up shit that’s happened in the world, I’ll take human over dead any day of the week. Suffering silently around me doesn’t do either of us any good – it’s not as if I’ll go out to every person in Zaun and besmirch your reputation. I haven’t told anyone about your leg for three weeks! I can keep shit to myself – you know that. So, excuse me if I’d prefer you alive than dead, especially if you died to save my sorry ass. I had nowhere and nobody before I met you, Sevika, don’t make me lose that again.”

You’re panting by the time you finish your rant, so caught up in the emotional turmoil that had been stewing for hours that you hadn’t been able to shut your mouth after you made your point. You just had to go and beat a dead horse.

Sevika turns her head away from you, hanging it low towards the earth beneath your horses. Your gut broils with anxiety – worried you’ve finally broken the last straw and shoved her away from you for good. The rest of the ride is silent as you wind your hands in King’s reigns, glancing nervously at her as Duchess trudges down the trail. You want to speak up – to say something, anything, that might fix the damage you unwittingly inflicted but can’t find the words to justify your actions. As Zaun’s gates dawn on you, you can almost taste blood from how hard you’re biting your tongue. Remorse doesn’t even begin to describe the turmoil broiling in your gut.

Out of everything you have said to her over the past few weeks, why did you have to go and find a way to fuck it up now?

As you dismount King, you stand nervously in the stables, unsure if you’re allowed to follow Sevika home. She’s pulling the supplies out of Duchess’ saddlebags and setting the saddle on a nearby post with a blank expression that twists your gut. Thankfully, Grayson swoops in, unwittingly saving you from the Hell you created.

“Ah, good, you two are back sooner than expected. I can take the supplies –“ she reaches out to take them from your arms; you let them go willingly – “Singed has requested your help today. I’m still putting the finishing touches on your printing press, assuming you have found the supplies I requested. That candy shop of yours is almost open for business.”

“Yes, we, er – we found the supplies. Nearly got chomped, but we managed it,” you mumble absent-mindedly, sending one final glance to Sevika. Her back is to you, busy brushing out Duchess. A sullen sigh escapes you before you can catch it. “You said Singed needs me?”

You miss the way Grayson arches an eyebrow behind your back, readjusting the supplies in her arms. “In an hour or so… why don’t you join me for breakfast? You can help me take these supplies to the warehouse, and then I can pay you back in kind with a hot meal. Nothing fancy, just the diner.”

“Sounds great,” you say with feigned enthusiasm. You take the rest of the supplies – Sevika’s supplies – that had been leaning against the stable stall for someone to cart off.

There’s not much more you can say to Sevika; what could you possibly muster up that you haven’t already said – that wouldn’t make it worse? Following Grayson out of the barn, you toss a quick goodbye to King over your shoulder. It’s up to Sevika whether or not she hears it as well. You can handle the dilemma of where you’re sleeping tonight after your shift; right now, you’re going to enjoy the fact you’re still alive. You are not her girlfriend; You are her friend. You are not responsible for Sevika’s self-sacrificial behaviour, no matter how much you wish you were. You have made your point; it is up to her if she listens or if you’re sleeping at… okay, well, you’re not quite sure where you’ll sleep tonight if she kicks you out, but you can cross that bridge when you get to it.

Grayson leads you to a nearby warehouse used to store Zaun’s communal materials. The new items are placed in a bin at the front, and workers snatch them up to catalogue what has been brought in. Grayson immediately checks out the supplies for the printing press, carting them off to her store to stash them away. You follow after her like a lost puppy as she weaves through the streets with a practiced ease, the silence stretched between the two of you eased with light conversation about your day-to-day lives. Little things, such as a particularly difficult chair order she had to fulfill and your work with Singed. She maintains a mild curiosity as the two of you step into the diner, her holding the door open for you (you duck and blush, trying not to focus on the way her bicep flexes from the weight of the door).

A waitress sits you at a table near the window, sunlight shining onto your table, casting the menus and Grayson’s black hair in a golden glow. You giggle nervously when your fingers brush reaching for the waters the waitress brings to the table before leaving you to contemplate your orders.

“Everything sounds so good after nine years without all of this,” you say, torn between absolutely everything on the menu. “What do you recommend?”

Grayson rests her chin between her forefinger and thumb, levelling you with a thoughtful gaze. You try not to squirm as she drags her eyes across your face.

“The crepes. Jericho has spent the last year perfecting them after Vi found Caitlyn in Piltover. Young Kiramman always requests them for breakfast. You will enjoy them; they come with fresh strawberries,” Grayson states in a tone that swings violently between flirtatious and matter-of-fact, making your head spin.

“Get all that from my face, did you?” you ask, exhorting her to piece out her reasoning.

“It was an educated guess that you enjoy sweet things, darling. A majority of the menu items involve syrup or sugar – your inability to choose between them suggested such,” Grayson explains as the waitress returns, burying the pet name amongst the tall grass of her logic.

You swallow thickly, ducking your head ever so slightly – embarrassed you were so easy to read (and maybe a little turned on from the careful attention). Grayson orders for both of you: for you, crepes and an egg (she does ask for your preference); for herself, two eggs, sunny-side up, with a side of whole wheat toast and beef-based sausages. You can feel yourself begin to salivate as the waitress asks if you would prefer strawberry syrup or maple syrup, greedily ordering both. Grayson chuckles softly as if she’s amused and pleased at your order (you can’t help but blush, ducking your head to hide it). The waitress merely jots it down and promises the food will be out shortly.

Leaving you and Grayson to sit quietly at the table, conversation stagnating between you two. Only the gentle hum of other people’s conversations and the old melody playing out of the jukebox fill the diner. It does not help that you are expending all your mental energy ogling Grayson as stealthily as you can manage, still dressed in Sevika’s shirt, and fueled by more than a little pent-up frustration at Sevika. Part of you is secretly hoping that Sevika will walk into the diner to see you and Grayson having breakfast together, think it’s a date, and stake her claim on you. Unfortunately, that is merely wishful thinking, and you know deep down Sevika doesn’t want you that way.

She’s just a friend.

Being friendly.

The chaste kisses on the cheek and the way she holds you just a little longer than necessary are nothing more than platonic. Today proved that much.

“What is plaguing you?” Grayson asks, breaking the silence.  

“Sorry, what?” you blink back into reality, staring at her owlishly.

“Unless you are hungrier than I thought, you have the look of someone… deeply troubled,” Grayson explains calmly, resting her arms on the tabletop. It makes her shirt strain around her well-built frame. “Anything I can help with?”

“Sorry, no,” you apologize again, fidgeting with your sleeve. “I’m just tired… and Piltover was… a lot – to put it mildly. We nearly died; frankly, I’m surprised we didn’t. There was a moment where I was certain that blowing us up was better than letting the approaching horde of infected tear us apart. Which, is strange to say even now, after everything that has happened, but, unfortunately, the apocalypse never seems to cheapen.”

Grayson rests her hand over yours, stopping you from unraveling the fraying sleeve of Sevika’s shirt. “I am sure Singed would understand if you went home. The apocalypse catches up to us all, eventually. There are days where I don’t open my doors – when I still remember the worst of it all.”

You focus on the gentle sensation of her thumb stroking against the back of your hand as you shake your head slowly. “I couldn’t. I kind of tore Sevika a new asshole for the stunt she pulled – it’s a long and personal story I don’t think she’d appreciate me telling other people about, but the short version is that she almost died instead of asking for help. Now she won’t talk to me… I think I fucked up, and now I don’t even have a place to sleep tonight.”

“Sevika’s a big girl; she can handle a little lecture here and there. She just doesn’t like to admit that others are right. Give her time; she’ll come around. If she doesn’t concede before the end of the day – or you find yourself without a place to sleep – I have a spare bedroom at my place that you’re free to crash in,” Grayson offers, squeezing your hand. Her warm smile coils in your gut, radiating like a hot meal scarfed down too fast, warming you from the inside out whether you like it or not.

You can’t help but give yourself over to the sensation. “Thank you; hopefully, I don’t have to take you up on the offer, but it’s nice to know I have the option.”

Her smile only burns brighter, and you can’t help but smile with her. You want to say more – she looks like she’s about to say more. Then the waitress returns, setting your respective plates in front of you, and the two of you pull apart as if you’d been burned.

Breakfast is delicious, just as she promised. You have to hold yourself back from scarfing it down all at once, torn between a desire to savour it and the starving hunger you hadn’t acknowledged until food was in front of you. You are barely able to stop yourself from licking the plate clean! Thankfully, you manage to reign yourself in so you don’t make a bigger fool out of yourself in front of Grayson. If she notices the desperation in your eyes, she doesn’t comment on it, instead making polite conversation about the various menu items. Things she liked, the different dishes the chefs were better at, and ingredient sources. You make a mental note to invite her over for breakfast one day and cook something to repay her for today – though you’re not sure what you’ll make as she had far too many favourite dishes to choose from.

After the two of you have finished, Grayson walks you to Singed’s lab, insisting you can crash on her couch instead if you need. You assure her it’s a generous offer, but the pay you earn is too good to pass up, as you want to have enough money squirrelled away to keep the printing press afloat. She respects your wishes, walking you to the door. Singed is lazily strolling about his garden, picking out various herbs and flowers, waving you to head inside by yourself.

Grayson stops you just before the door, taking your hand in hers and kissing your knuckles with chapped lips. You flush a brilliant scarlet, heart thundering in your chest.

“Stay safe and out of trouble today,” she says, straightening up as you will your hand to drop slowly to your side.

Without giving yourself time to hesitate, you lean forward and plant a kiss on her cheek (desperately hoping you’re not being too brash). She blushes softly and smiles down at you, yet all you can feel is a cruel twist of betrayal in your chest. It feels… wrong – you hate how wrong it feels, how much you wish she was Sevika. There’s no denying Grayson is an attractive woman, but even a harmless flirt feels like the most heinous betrayal. Yet, that twisting green-eyed monster inside of you roars in triumph, desperate to make Sevika jealous you’re giving another woman attention. Even if it’s a terrible position to put Grayson in…

“You as well,” you whisper, pulling back and slipping inside Singed’s lab.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you pull yourself through the process of getting ready – lab coat, gloves, boots, and every piece of PPE that Singed has squirrelled away to keep anyone inside his lab safe. Singed is still outside when you’re done, so you take a moment to look around. It’s a harmless pastime that you’ve done countless times before, yet this time, there’s something new. Sitting on his work desk on top of one of your journals, as if he’d left it out for you to find, is a key. Unassuming, sterile grey, with the letter ‘O’ engraved onto the top. You contemplate it for a moment before pocketing it. If he meant it for you, what was the harm of taking the initiative? He’s never complained about you doing so before. Killing time, you glance up at the map above his work desk to find a small pin with the same ‘O’ on it – it could just be a coincidence, there are countless pins, yet all of them are engraved with a different letter. This one is stabbed straight through the science district of Piltover… it could just be a coincidence, but you’ve survived for far too long betting on fate to take it at face value. You hastily scribble down the rough location in your journal as you hear the door to the lab open.

Singed finds you standing at the ready next to the old surgery chair, where the corpse of an infected lays. He nods approvingly, stepping toward you and beginning the start of his usual morning dissection, having you take notes. He does not mention the key; neither do you.

Routine overtakes you, the key quickly forgotten in the ocean of events that happen throughout the day. Singed has enough energy to open the clinic today, and the first person you see is Ekko, who managed to get a piece of rebar through part of his arm in a freak accident at the construction site. Singed scolds Ekko to no end as Singed gives him a dosage of homemade antibiotics while you clean and dress the wound. A few people come in with broken bones, some with scratch marks, and one kid with three bee stings (she had been picking flowers near Sevika’s bee boxes). Then, Vander came in with a broken pinky that he swore wasn’t from carrying crates around the warehouse, as Singed had prescribed him to ease off the manual labour to allow a previous shoulder injury to heal. You splint Vander’s fingers while Singed lectures him so hard it makes your lecture to Sevika seem like a playground squabble.

By the end, you’re too tired to do much of anything besides sleep. The sun has already set and Singed paid you a fair amount that nearly doubled in size when Vander gave you hazard pay for the Piltover trip. So, you treat yourself and Vander to dinner at the diner, too exhausted to bother cooking – the two of you order the steak special with poutine, steamed carrots and fried mushrooms. All of which sound like absolute heaven to you.

The universe allows you ten blissful minutes of ignorance while you wait, before Vander leans forward and asks: “So, not that I don’t appreciate this, but why didn’t you take Sevika instead of me?”

You hate his ability to cut straight to the chase like a truth-seeking bloodhound. Trying to shrug it off, you say: “Do I have to do everything with her?”

“No, but that hasn’t stopped you since you got here,” Vander points out, and you scratch at your wrist underneath the cuff of Sevika’s shirt.

“We had a fight,” you mumble to the table.

“A fight? About what? It couldn’t have been that bad that you scared her off – or did she finally scare you off?” Vander presses, taking on an almost joking tone to add a light-hearted air to the conversation.

“No, I –“ you run a hand through your hair and sigh heavily – “Fuck, Vander, I shouldn’t be telling you this. It ain’t your mess to get caught up in.”

“Kid, trust me, I’ve had worse. You think I’ve never had to give romantic advice before? My daughters’ aren’t exactly the most functional or communicative people out there,” Vander chuckles, leaning back in the booth. “Come on, spill the beans.”

You scoff at the absurdity, shaking your head. A sad smile dances across your lips for a brief moment before the grief of Sevika’s friendship smothers it. “Okay, fine. She nearly got herself killed out there because she wouldn’t take a break and rest. I said some pretty presumptuous things about her working herself to the bone because she needs to prove she’s still dependable despite her injury. And that I was afraid of her dying; that I didn’t want her to die for me…”

“Oh.”

You bob your head and swallow, refusing to look him in the eyes. “She kinda stopped talking after that. I haven’t seen her since we came back this morning. I know I fucked up, I just don’t think I can handle hearing her say it.”

“Kid –“ Vander is cut off by the waitress setting your plates down in front of you. He waits for her to leave before continuing – “Kid, I’ve been with Sevika through the thick and thin of it, and I’ve tried to tell her the same damn thing a dozen times over. She’ll forgive you, and if she doesn’t, I’ll knock her upside the head until she does. In the, uh, sparing ring – don’t go around thinking we beat each other up for being headstrong. All she needs is time. She’s taken a real shine to you; she won’t just up and force you out of her life.”

“Okay, good, thanks – I don’t think I could handle losing yet another person in my life. At least not to my own stupidity. It might be best if I give her some space, though… do you know if the printing shop is done yet? I know Grayson has almost finished the press itself, but I haven’t gotten an update on the shop.”

Vander drags a hand over his face with a tired sigh: “Sevika was supposed to tell you before you left, but you – fuck we sent you on a mission without even giving you the good news. The shop is done – I’ll show you after dinner – but kid, I don’t think you should do this. This is going to send the wrong message. I know Sevika can be intense at times, but –“

“Vander, I appreciate it, really I do. It’s just… I want to stop being a burden to everyone. Maybe if I put a little space between us, it’ll hurt less the next time she goes and almost gets herself killed.”

His brow creases together, lips pursed, and a pitiful look shimmering in his eyes. He takes your hand, stilling it from almost cutting the knife through your plate.    “I won’t force you into anything; I can only give you my best advice. If you think it’s for the best, I won’t stand in your way. However, if I was in your shoes, this isn’t the path I would walk down. At least think it over tonight – if you still feel this way tomorrow, I’ll show you the shop.”

“Vander –“

“I’m serious, kid. You’re exhausted. Don’t make stupid choices tonight that you can’t take back tomorrow.”

You bite your lip – he’s right, and you hate it. Instead of admitting it, you flag the waitress down and order a drink (unfortunately, all they have is mead, which only serves to sink you lower into despair). Vander shovels steak into his mouth to keep himself from commenting, and you can’t help but appreciate the gesture. The two of you eat in silence, occasionally talking about the weather or potential books you might print. When you’re done, Vander beats you to the bill, insisting you save your money because he’s got too much of his own. The two of you have two more drinks (which you pay for) before he walks you home, letting you point out the different stars in the sky. When you reach Sevika’s step, he hugs you tightly, squeezing you just a little too hard before he lets you go inside. You hug him just a little longer than necessary, letting go several long moments after his hands loosen. He doesn’t comment; neither do you.

The house smells like booze and weed. The backdoor is open, and you can see the shadow of a figure hunched over on the step, her back to you, lit by the faint glow of a joint. For a moment, you hesitate, standing in the living room, staring at her. Your heart aches to go to her, overpowering your drunken mind to take a step forward. The floorboard creaks beneath you, and your heart begins to hammer like a jackrabbit as you freeze like a deer in headlights. Headlights that never come. She doesn’t so much as turn her head toward you; instead, the joint is lifted to her lips, and a cloud of smoke dissipates around her head.  

Shoulders sinking, you trudge up the stairs like a scolded dog. Before heading to bed, you take one last shower, knowing it’ll be your last for at least a few days until you get your living situation in order. You know Sevika’s still smoking on the porch as you curl up in bed because fifteen minutes afterwards, her footsteps echo down the hall. They stop just outside your door, your heart hammering in your chest, willing it to swing open and for her to say anything. For her to apologize or curl up in bed next to you without a word – you’d even take her shouting at you to get out; anything but this nauseous silence that hangs around the two of you like smog.

Her footsteps continue down the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom.

[anamericangirl]

I know you’re probably done with the stupid Elon stuff (I know I am) but I just saw the beginning of the clip when he first goes on the stage and I just…. after seeing that how can anyone think he was doing a nazi salute 💀 like obviously he was giving his heart to the crowd but the way he goes on stage just gets me.

The awkward man who’s excitedly jumping and dancing around the stage? Doing a nazi salute in the middle of his extremely thrilled “we did it I’m so happy” speech? Make it make sense

It’s just so frustrating that people are going straight to “nazi 🫵” instead of watching the whole clip and using their brain. I’m not shocked about that, just frustrated. Sorry to rant to you I just needed to let this out. I really wish the whole clip can go viral and people can see what actually happened, you know?

The woke mob is notorious for taking things out of context because context, facts and reality destroy everything they believe in so they have to hyper-focus on small things they can blow out of proportion and make look really bad by lying about it and removing all context. But obviously when you have it in context he is clearly not doing a Nazi salute. It would have been the weirdest most random time to throw out a Nazi salute because it does not at all fit the theme of his speech or message he was giving.

Like it’s obviously not one and even without context it’s easy to tell it’s not a Nazi salute. It doesn’t even look like one. But people who cry Nazi want him to be one because they’ve been holding on to that narrative for eight years so they jump on anything they think they can use, which has just resulted in them becoming so incredibly ignorant that they think any gesture that involves swinging out your arm is a Nazi salute, regardless of the context surrounding it.

But that’s the only thing they’re good at. They imagined a problem into existence which has resulted in the country focusing on a completely harmless gesture made by Elon musk and people like us with brains explaining to idiots that not everything is a Nazi salute.

[slamrink]

Nothing to see here just steph stealing glances of klay like he’s afraid he’s going to get caught 😃😃 (via namxsj on twitter )

[kissthebridee]

if i ever stop talking abt this movie just know im either dead or have been hacked because oh my god. genuinely the most gorgeous movie ive ever seen.

[littlehatmouse]

i finished this in the last 20 minutes of lesbian visibility week after not drawing at all LETS GO

[volfoss]

it is beyond infuriating how anne rice seems to insist on marius being a positive force in anyone's life ever. like she can't fully commit to exploring the fact he groomed armand and has repeatedly taken away his consent for what marius thinks is best (take the end of TVA as an example) and just kind of flatly puts it in the narrative. there's not really much interest in how these horrific events make marius come across as the worst because EVERYONE loves him. for gods sake, lestat learns from armand exactly what marius did to him in TVL and then proceeds to go find marius and be super friendly to him in the same fucking book. even armand and pandora, two of the people who have MORE than enough right to hate him, do not. it doesnt feel like shes trying to explore the toxicity of the abusive dynamic he traps them in, it just is there. and like yeah ofc the toxic vampire romance series but i think that this should be handled with more care. and it is not ever really framed in a way that she is interested in exploring how marius should easily be one of the most horrific characters in this series because it kind of feels like sa/rape/grooming/other things of that sort are just put there to further plot and not to really get the respect that they deserve in a medium.

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

There is a very exquisite agony in playing a game you love so so so so so much, and realizing that one of the other players is trying to play a totally different game than you.

[poppyseed799]

btw I don’t know if this is a thing anyone is thinking about but I’m not gonna stop drawing Jimmy as a canary. It’s a lovely bird. It’s still something that’s been really important to his series. There’s no reason to drop the canary headcanon just cuz Lizzie fell into the void.

[little-red-fool]

Seen a lot of stuff lately of people just berating others for having takes on characters that they don’t agree with or that don’t align with their take, like girl it’s a fictional character they’re not real, and especially if it’s a fictional character who’s backstory/lore is quite vague, let people believe what they want it’s not that serious, I’ve got certain views on characters that don’t line up with how other people see them and vice versa, that doesn’t mean anybody’s right or wrong, even if it’s less canon-compliant, literally who cares. It’s a silly little made up person with a silly little made up backstory and we’re just making silly little headcanons, like bro it’s not that deep, and I’m tired of people getting so pissy with others about “issues” like this.

[bookshelfdreams]

.

[ratatatastic]

what does paul have against a-bo???

LITERALLY WHAT IM SAYING???? the problem with paul and something hes been critised for his whole coaching career is that he will always prefer to put in a vet over a young kid, especially vets hes worked with previously because he knows them better and newer kids have to go through trials and tribulations before he decides to start them regularly

it drives me mad because we're in need of a righty d so we can stop playing nate and kuli on their offsides. this isnt to say nate and kuli are bad on their offside theyve been holding down the mantle quite well it just its absolutely baffling that while ekky was out boqy shouldve stepped in (again) and at least run pp1, hes offensive, hes a puck mover and was just starting to gain chemistry with matthew and instead he was sat and put in like 1 back to back game and then tobi got called up.

im not mad at that decision i think tobi deserves to have more time to prove himself up with us but also youre best righthanded defenceman is out.. you decide to call up a lefty??? when boqy is right there??? and you have time to let him play out games and get used to the team (again)??? and you dont do that??? so now quite literally every pair has a lefty???? and you dont give him time to play and now ekkys back so now tobis down again and boqys back to being in jail???

the ideal here is that boqy slides up with mikksy because i think mikksy benefits from someone whos more offensively minded than he is (like monty was) while he hangs back at the blueline but i cant deny that his playstyle this season has really evolved where hes the dman whos jumping up more often in plays and joining rushes and the way he crowds the net is so very helpful and this due in large part to him adapating his play with kuli because last fucking season it was so notable how much the mikksy-kuli pair seemed to be too defensive and we're dragging each other down, and i was glad when monty came back because mikksy does benefit from a player like that. now it seems because of that its actually mikksy filling in the role of the more offensive dman with kuli because they have that chemistry now (not so much nate now because if i took a shot for the amount of times theyve taken each other out in plays because they havent had the time to properly establish their areas i think id be blackout drunk ofc the more time they play w eo the less of a problem that will be but when youre down ekky it looked not as good)

so now we have the conodrum of well the original plan of putting boqy up with mikksy kinda goes out the window because we realise how much the team benefits as a whole when mikksy gets on his horse and becomes a sometimes 5'10 winger, and you cant have two dman that are gonna be doing that... which is why when paul slotted in boqy he always put him with nathan. but that means uvis is out and you really dont want him out because he has great physicality and is also a puckmover so then youd be switching kuli nathan and uvis out which- 2 are vets, 2 have played for paul and-

you see whats happening here

[soothsayerlottie]

UGH I HATE MY GP SURGERY SO FUCKING MUCH 😡😡😡

[random0lover]

I hate men and their need to act like any emotional reactions you have while you’re on your period is just you being “hormonal” and “not yourself”

(Rant in tags)

[the-acid-pear]

hey do u fw phone guy jack and if so do you have any thoughts on phone guy jack

I loooooove phone jack as a concept unfortunately I haven't managed to build a coherent thought since the summer of '92 but let me try like. I mean he'd be undeniably one of the fucking worst ones hands down. Steven would blush next to how atrocious of a boss phone Jack would be. Because he's a bit of a cunt as it stands but w his brain reprogrammed to focus mainly on the company and forget his previous life? He'd be a turbo cunt. And I don't think he'd even that good at the job either. I do wonder if he'd manage to keep the narrator or not. I'd be funny if he did and the narrator remembered everything but was like, unwilling to tell him? Or maybe he'd tell him and Jack would just ignore it. He's busy half assing his duties to be bothering with past memories you know?

Hell even if he remembered I think it'd be a bit of a Roger moment in the sense that he was already fucking MISERABLE where he was and now he is Someone he's Scott™ and he lost everything already so what's even the point? Here is bad but there is worse.

Maybe I had more thoughts than I accounted for.