#could be poly

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ Rather Cold, Isn't It? — Jayce and Viktor x GN Reader during winter ☆

Genres: Fluff, Mild Angst || they/them pronouns for reader || Can be poly or separate, up to you || Warning for discussions of ableism and trauma

A/N: Eermm hi. Saw a lot of HC posts about Viktor and Jayce dealing with the cold, and I needed some ideas to post fics in-between opening requests soooo ya

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Jayce hates the idea of you being cold. Seeing his mother nearly freeze to death in front of him left no small impact, he's always worried when temperatures start dropping too low to be safe. He'll always have a coat or warm place to stay to offer you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 If need be, he'll try to offer up his own coat to you, a bit persistently. Which might seem a bit counterproductive, and in truth, it is. But Jayce wants you to see how much he cares, and he completely misses thinking about himself at times trying to accomplish this

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He feels absolute safest if you two can sneak off to a warm little corner of your own somewhere. His room, his office, the lab, anywhere he can turn up the heat and carry a blanket to wrap you up in. He'll also keep his arms around you as much as possible, especially if he feels your hands turning ice cold.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 If you tell him it's a little much, he'll joke that he'd rather have you be a little too warm than ice cold. But in all seriousness, he'll try to dial it back. He doesn't wanna come off as overbearing, he just can't stand the idea of you ever feeling the way biting cold can fade to terrifying numbness. Either way he's gonna fret for you until it's warm again

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Viktor is moreso the one who tries to ignore the cold. Keyword tries. The drop in temperature often irritates his bad leg and back, which makes walking around the lab even more of a pain. Though, as you come to find out, Viktor's a little defensive towards offers of help. Not in an aggressive way, he's just occasionally very stubborn when anyone implies he can't handle himself

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Not that he hates help, absolutely not. He'd actually be glad to have someone even halfway understand him any day of the week. But he remembers far too many instances where Piltover residents offered help merely out of pity. They'd look at him like a frail bundle of glass shards, unable to do a thing himself. Or, when he did rarely want some assistance, they'd shy away from getting near him because he's a Zaunite

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Once you reassure him that your offers come from concern and not condescension, he eases up. It's not your fault, he reassures, but he hopes you can understand where he's coming from. He let's you start setting the area where he works to be warmer. If he's gonna refuse to step away from the desk, the least he can do is let you make sure he'll be comfortable there

ᯓᡣ𐭩 In those moments he's usually lulled into being more receptive to a break, both by the comfort from the warm environment and your presence. Eventually he gives in, putting aside his work for just a second to make sure you're warm as well. He'll 100% chastise you if you fuss over his health while ignoring your own

[kaahmbem]

my experience in fields of mistria so far

[hatsbuckets]

18+ Filthy fucking food for thought:

Soap’s a depraved little thing with a tongue made for sin.

He's buried between his dove’s thighs, tongue-fucking her until she’s crying out his name, giggling, twitching, begging for mercy she’ll never get.

But his fixation doesn’t stop with her. He’s got a mouth made for service, and his Captain, his Lieutenant, his fellow Sergeant? They know it. They let him. They use it.

So when he's on his knees (mouth pulling off of Price's cock) and asks—so sweet it’s disgusting—for them to fuck his girl full of their cum, to wreck her cunt one after the other until she’s slurring her words and dripping down her thighs, they don’t hesitate.

Soap's drooling before they’re even done. Crawling between her shaking legs like a dog in heat. Tongue out. Eyes wild. Eating her sloppy, used cunt like it’s his fucking religion—lapping up every drop they’ve spilled in her, moaning like a whore because he needs it.

He needs to taste all of them. In her. From her.

He doesn't stop until he’s breathless and soaked and fucking shaking.

(more)

[rocketbirdie]

still waiting for them to announce cloud strife's chocobo ranch simulator

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Fic Idea where Fiddleford helps Stan rebuild the portal, but Stan finds out that Fiddleford has a wife and he's like

"You have a WIFE?? That DIDN'T marry you to steal your car and money???? What are you DOING here???"

"Yeah, well.... She's better off thinking I'm dead somewhere....."

"A WIFE. That LOVES you. Get outta here and go explain yourself, Idiot!!"

"She and our son shouldn't have to deal with--"

"YOUR SON???!!?!!??"

Anyways, so Stan helps Fiddleford reach out and explain himself to his wife, but expresses that he wants to keep being in Gravity Falls, so his wife and kid go to live with them in The Shack instead.

Blah blah blah, bonding happens, Stan bags Fiddleford AND his wife and becomes a step dad, God bless 🙏

[ohimsummer]

Hiii no pressure but whenever you do another satosugu texts could you do one where the reader is jealous of someone flirting with the boys while at the mall?

— minors dni, poly! stsg, jealous! reader, crack, cw satoru, fuck it cw suguru too

📱: : @anthoosies @staryukis @deepenthevoid @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @risuola @bunnymacaron @hellkaiserinphoenix @astral-hydromancy @bookswillfindyouaway @rosso-seta @sugurubabe @soraya-daydreams @arthurschneider @venzlenes @khaothick @haruchiy0 @sillysushi @hobarihope @crocodilethesir @starlightanyaaa @reodiaries @spicana @lovley212 @katharinasdiaryy @ninikrumbs @imaniitheoneee @tojislittleprincess @puppyminnnie @pinkfqiry @getoloverr @blindbabycadder @littlemissfix-itfic @luvr-exe @snackeyalleyjuice @apatauaia @trafalgarrattata @sataraxia @elleflying07 @toptierbunny @purplegemadventures @whokilledvivi @getouolgy @exinqiu @flvffybunny @leilalilox @babytoshiii @idkluvv @froggkat @princ3ss-juicy @starsharkz @zzzlevislothzzz @sugu-love @peachyaone @squishies0102 @ivy-vivii @mynahx3 @ratedrrrr @ha-zel-art

[shalmonsdraws]

he's still figuring out vine whip

[the-odd-shu]

Lab shenanigans

Characters: Viktor, Jayce, Reader

A thread following the chaotic trio that is, laboratory illustrator!Reader, Viktor and Jayce being unsupervised in the lab.

Note this takes place during season 1:

Gender Neutral!Reader who got hired as the lab illustrator because neither Jayce nor Viktor can draw and they need an illustrator to document all their official papers with recognisable diagrams of their inventions.

The next part

Masterlist

Reader who was just freshly been employed as the lab illustrator, sitting diligently at their new desk whilst Jayce fetches the research folder and Viktor tinkers away in the background.

Reader who lets Jayce set down the heavy folder on their desk, which holds all of the pair's research as well as hundreds of cruedly drawn sketches of inventions such as the Hexclaw and early drafts of the Hexgates, drawn by both himself and Viktor. (They are not drawn well, and it is only because most of the drawings are labelled with big, obnoxoious arrows that you actually know what you're looking at).

Jayce pausing in his explanations of the tech on each page and his promises to pull everything out of storage when you need it for a refence, slowly trailing off when he catches sight of your reaction to the drawings: "Why are you making that face?"

Reader who is diligently flicking through the pages and trying not to crack up at the poorly drawn stick figures, and the messy, uneven parallel lines of wires and robotic arms, and the scribbled oblong that is supposed to be one of the gemstones. They're not half bad attempts from people who focus their energy and time into math equations and flowery research papers, but that doesn't mean they're not amusing to look at.

"What face? I'm not making a face."

Reader turns all of their attention down to the pages and proceeds to fail at smothering their snort as the concept sketch of one of the Zaun suits. They push the folder back along the desk, to create enough space to prop their elbows on the table, to pinch the bridge of their nose hard to try and school themselves into some form of calm.

"Why are you laughing?" Jayce asks, sounding geniunely confused.

Whilst Reader tries to save face by responding, "I'm not. I'm just- uh, coming to terms with how much work I have ahead of me."

Jayce frowns.

The commotion has caught Viktor's attention.

"Well, it is a lot." Jayce allows, "but we won't rush you. The deadline is months away after all, and if-"

His words fade into the background in your mind as Viktor chooses then to roll over on his wheelie office chair to see what's going on, only to immediately grin in understanding. He rolls his chair up on the adjascent side of your desk, mouth pulled into a wicked smirk as he points to a particularly wobbly zaun suit drawing. "That would be one of Jayce's masterpieces."

Jayce lets out an offended noise, whilst Viktor takes malicious joy in flipping through the folder to point out which other drawings were done by Jayce. Most of them are wobbly and uneven, but have clearly been mapped out with steady, slow care.

In retaliation, Jayce swipes the folder out of Viktor's gleeful hands, and pointedly flips to a fresher page dated back to a couple of days ago. You catch a glimpse of the title 'hexcore', scrawled across the top in confident letters, before Jayce is turning the folder back to you and loudly proclaiming the work of art as Viktor's.

[The ‘hexcore’ has been drawn with wobbly, uneven lines that lacked the sleek, parallel look of the actual subject, with poorly recreated runes that did not at all take into account perspective or foreshortening.]

Reader loses it at the attempt, whilst Jayce and Viktor continue to squabble with one another in the background.

I just NEED all three of them to spend countless hours in that laboratory getting stuck in their respective tasks (creative Vs Scientific) and all three of them come out aching and satisfied by the time the janitor comes round to kick them out for the night, despite doing jobs that require different parts of their brains. The overlap of countless, almost unsolvable equations, with the hours of staring at a blank page and slowly but surely coaxing out an image, it just so precious to me somehow.

Bonus points of course, if Jayce and Viktor are getting really into a scientific debate across the room by the chalkboard, flinging enormous words back and forth at one another, whilst Reader slowly dies inside trying to make the metal part of an invention LOOK like metal.

I just need Reader allowing the background muttering and excited exclamations to sooth them as they carefully draw another diagram above a neatly scrawled out text box of the pair's latest concept.

Jayce: “Yes! That could work! What do you think, Y/n?”

Reader: Head snaps up at being addressed. “Uh…”

They blue screen as they come back to reality and realise they haven’t moved in hours and their back and neck desperately ache from the movement. They're suddenly starving, and hungry, and really need to pee, but didn't notice before because they were so engrossed in their work. Kind of like how the other two get about their research.

Viktor being a night owl and working on projects late into the night.

Jayce being smart and taking cat naps on his desk because he's an early bird, but a deadline is coming up and he refuses to be defeated by exhaustion.

And then you have Reader. Who is not being supervised in the kitchen, where they've made their fifth coffee and with shaking, caffeinated hands, they begin pouring in a generous helping of a Piltover energy drink.

Viktor hears the can pop.

He says your name warningly. "You better not be making that culinary monstrosity again."

Instead of responding, they knock back the whole mug in desperate gulps, ignoring the rancid taste and shivering from the mix of burning liquid with the pop of hundreds of tiny bubbles.

The mug gets slammed loudly back on the counter. Viktor sighs heavily and pushes his wheelie chair towards Jayce's desk.

He wakes him up, with a prod of his cane into his side.

"I'm about to have a breakthrough." He explains quickly motioning to his desk. Blary eyed and clearly not fully awake yet, Jayce nods along. Viktor points dramatically to Jayce and then in the direction of the kitchen. "You're on assistant duty for the next half an hour."

The tiredness leeches out of Jayce's face. "They didn't-"

"They did."

"But they've already got caffeine shakes!"

"Tell that to the sound of the kettle bubbling away and the pop of a can lid. It has already happened Jayce. All we can do now it keep the damage to a minimum."

On silent feet, Reader's shadow appears on the other side of the desk. Both men jump. The light overhead casts their face into shadows and somehow makes their eyes glow. It is a terrifying sight.

Viktor recovers first. "We need to put a bell on you!"

"Kinky. Now, whatdoyouwantmetodrawnext?!" Their assistant rushes out in a single breath.

And both scientists pale. It was already beginning then.

The next four hours consists of Jayce struggling to keep his eyes open whilst Reader pokes fun at him and offers up their 'creation', Jayce firmly declining and trying to get on with his work, whilst Viktor keeps to himself and snorts periodically at the banter.

Reader draws and draws and then rubs out, before diligently getting back to drawing again. There is a frenzy to their marks. A wildness to their eyes. The scratch and scritch of their pen, getting lost amongst the sound of cogs turning and screws tightening and Jayce's yawning. So much so that when it suddenly ceases, neither of the scientists notice at first.

Not until Viktor asks for a warm tea, only for the previously eager assistant not to respond. He lets out a fond sigh, Jayce straightening up from his own work.

Reader is passed out on their sketchbook, having FINALLY crashed.

Viktor gets up to make his own tea.

Jayce shrugs off his jacket, and puts it over their shoulders as a makeshift blanket. The man has such broad shoulders that it practically swallows the assistant from sight, but they do not stir.

"That'll give them an awful neck ache tomorrow." Viktor observes aloud.

Jayce snorts. "Maybe it'll be enough of a punishment to stop them making that foul concoction."

"Unlikely."

Jayce just shakes his head and collapses back onto his desk and lays his head down on his arm. "Ten minutes." He mutters out before closing his eyes.

Viktor hums. And by the time he gets his tea back to the desk, his partner is out like a light, just as he had predicted.

"I CANNOT believe you're making me do this Jayce." Viktor exclaims sarcastically.

"Viktor. Please let me get that cog for you. Just this time. Please!"

"Oh no, no, do not get up on my account." Viktor firmly dismisses as he shimmies down his cane, one hand over the other all the whilst making exaggerated groaning noises.

Jayce is practically vibrating in place. "Please! It is literally all the way under that side board. Can I just slide it out for you? You can pick it up yourself."

"Oh no, do not strain yourself!" Viktor insists, sitting himself down on the floor, one hand holding his cane up as he shoves his other arm under the side board.

"VIKTOR!" Jayce all but whines, and takes a step forward.

"Ah!" Viktor immediately reprimands. "Y/n get the spray bottle!"

You've been watching the entire scene in amusement from your desk. Quietly giggling at Viktor's ribbing and Jayce's desperation to be useful. They make a rather amusing duo.

Jayce's eyes have jumped up to you. Frozen mid-step, eyes pleading.

You grin, pointedly reaching across the gap between yours and Viktor's desks to grab said spray bottle.

On the floor, Viktor makes a triumphant noise, before straightening up and brandishing the cog above his head. "Got it!" He exclaims, before slamming the blasted thing onto the side board. Then he tries to clamber back up his cane to his feet. He is unsuccessful as his leg decides not to co-operate this time.

He sighs. "Jayce." He says heavily, "as punishment for making me get down here in the first place-"

"What?! I've literally been-"

"As reprimand for your dastardly crimes. You are obligated to offer me one hand. But ONLY one, or your punishment shall evolve into death by spray bottle." Dramatically, he holds out his hand to his exasperated partner.

In support, you give the spray bottle a little squeeze in Jayce's direction, to which he shoots you a dark look. You merely grin back.

Then Jayce offers Viktor his hand, their fingers wrapping around the others wrist. "Slow." Viktor instructs, as he readjusts his legs into the right position. Jayce nods.

Then Jayce gently pulls Viktor up as Viktor balances between his feet and his cane.

"Thank you." He says, patting Jayce on the cheek, before promptly turning on his heel to retreat back to his desk.

They're so silly, I love them so much.

The next part

[nonranghaes]

heads up: reader not feelin great, physically. doesn't get really specific. food mentions.

"hey." felix crouches down beside the couch. his hands are a little cold against your skin as he cups your cheek, head tilting as he tries to get a better look at your face as you peer up at him. "soup's done."

"'m fine..." you turn your face back into your sleeve, squeezing your eyes shut. "don't need it..."

he lets out a sigh, leaning in to kiss the side of your head. "honey..." his voice is soft, but the word hits you just as hard. you've always been his baby, his babe, or just your name, since there's intimacy in that, too. honey is saved for when he's worried. "it'll make you feel better to eat something. can't take medicine on an empty stomach, right?"

you just let out a whimper of pain. moving feels like too much for right now, but you know it's because you haven't eaten yet today. feeling sick means that everything is a chore. the only reason you even got out of bed was to let felix in since his arms had been full with the groceries he bought, and you practically face-planted onto the couch after you shut the door.

"i'll feed you." he says softly, fingers brushing against the back of your neck. "does that help?"

it does, a little. you turn your face again so that you can see him. he's still wearing an apron, hair pulled back out of his face as he smiles at you. he's your sunshine, even now when he looks a little tired from worrying. you want to be mad at your roommate for calling him, but... minho had good intentions. you know he did. even when you whined at him for calling felix before heading out to work, he didn't bicker with you but told you to call him if you started feeling any worse since felix wouldn't be there until closer to lunchtime (and even then, he ended up making a run to the store after he checked on you, leaving you boyfriend-less for a little longer). you muster up a nod, and felix kisses your cheek this time.

"good. i'll bring it here, okay? all you have to do is sit up." he starts to walk away, missing the way you paw through the air to try and catch him by the hand. "i'm glad minho called," he calls back to you from the kitchen, "i know it's nothing serious, but... i'm just glad he's looking out for you, too."

the blanket falls onto the couch as you slowly push yourself up so that you're sitting again. your head aches, and for a moment you feel something weird with your sinuses, but it's not as bad once you see how happy felix is that you're up again--even if it's only to eat something. you feel loved as he sits down next to you, carefully sitting the tray on the coffee table as he prepares to feed you soup by the spoonful.

and you feel it again hours later when you rouse to the sound of the front door being opened. minho stops to see you, home from work, and quietly thanks felix for caring for you so much. how wonderful, you think to yourself as felix rests his hand on your cheek, it is to live in a world with so much love embracing you every day.

[the-dormant-ocean]

Zayne: Have you seen MC?

Sylus: No.

Zayne: Good.

Sylus, amused: Why?

Zayne: Since the heat wave started I haven't been able to take one step without her. She's insisting she will die without my Evol.

Sylus, taking Zayne's hand and putting it against his cheek: My poor darling. You're a victim of your own success.

Zayne: Sylus... Did you take my hand to soothe me or are you using it to cool yourself down right now?

Sylus, smiling: Both, my love. Two birds one stone.

Zayne, sighing: The both of you genuinely love to test my patience.

[monod1cot]

in my head these 2 were best friends

[eliknowsnothing]

there was gonna be nine but im too eepy for that rn. goodnight losa nation im clocking out

[dreemurr-skelememer]

MORE STARGAZE POLY !!! /NF

they mean the world to me and they mean the world to each other

[hatsbuckets]

"divorced!Price this divorced!Price that." I love him I do but,,, (my widower!price hc ig I'm a sucker for found family)

Widower!Price

who lost his light, love of his life, a feisty dove who never let him leave without a kiss nor enter her bed (yes hers) without a shower first. She was kind, sweet as hell, but met his young fire with her own.

A woman who saw Price's world-bearing shoulders and gave him a place to let it rest.

Who let him rant, let him bitch and moan, but always voiced her own opinion, gave him perspective.

Who held the torch in his darkness, and held his hand through the night.

Met his banter with her own. Added to the cynical gallows humor with clever quips.

Like bourbon down his throat and velvet on his skin.

A woman going places on her own of course, wildly independent, and he let her. Still made her let him pay for everything though.

Loved her wholly.

And she passed.

And Price moved on, buried himself in work, became the more rigid captain we know and love. Didn't let himself get close again, doesn't need to. His heart broke, shattered, he filled it with duty, his soldiers, his mission.

Nik and Laswell are there. (If it's timed appropriately.) They pick him up when he falls, but he keeps moving. Keeps fighting. Filling the cracks in his heart with the sand of duty.

But then this man, a huge ass, blue eyed blonde, who followed his orders without question. And he came back broken, hollowed, and Price had to wrap him up- gave him a mask, a purpose. Directed that fuel into something more.

And then that young Scot, youngest kid kicking ass for SAS selection. Price pushed him, kept tabs. He was an easy pick for the task force. And this kid is a light, warmth. A feisty jab, a jolting reminder of that dove he knew, that dove he loved.

And then the sergeant, lovely and so smart. Challenged him. Didn't let Price's humor go without challenge, without additions. This man who showed Price, reminded Price that the fight wasn't just something to fill cracks in his heart, but to protect, to fight.

And now, this team he's formed, it hits him harder than he cares to admit, they're filling the cracks with something more than the sand of duty. Repairing, fusing pieces like a soldering iron, heat, light, reactionary, and a bit of trauma, but there.

[shalmonsdraws]

spokey dokey

[sophbun]

your uber driver is here