#i was cold and achy and needed to Not Do Things so i played vampire survivors instead

[mydetheturk]

while it is still sunday, instead of six sentences, have a couple of scrapped paragraphs from a fic that might tentatively go up tomorrow

~~

The waitress brings Vash his coffee and says something about family.

Domina looks at her and smiles, and she knows how unsettling she must look with her too-pale eyes and thin smile when she says, “Oh, this is my brother in law.”

Stampede’s eyes go wide in shock and Knives goes speechless with how hard he’s laughing up against Domina’s spinal column. The waitress congratulates them – for what, Domina’s not a hundred percent sure, but it was fine.

“What the hell was that?” Vash hisses as soon as she’s out of earshot.

Domina’s smile drops. “Oh please. What your brother and I did is far more intimate than human marriage.”

[myfictionaldreams]

⁀➷ Stranger Things Masterlist 📚

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. Welcome to my stranger things masterlist! I love to write in my spare time and the fiction that I create is for 18+ readers ONLY please. Also, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags  ♥ Question? (requests closed)  ♥ latest works ♥

Steddie x Reader 🤘😎

✧ please rest! // You always wake up from date night feeling achy and exhausted and sometimes, you don't always prioritise your rest when you need it most. However, it seems great minds think alike where Steve and Eddie are concerned. (fluff, smut)

✧ give me a d!  // Steve finds your old cheerleader outfit and is desperate for you to try it on and surprise Eddie. (fluff, smut)

✧ heartbeat - kinktober // The upside down had changed Steve and Eddie forever but, at least their obsession for you hadn't changed. However, instead of your sweet smiles that they craved to see everyday, it was listening to the thumping of your heartbeat. (Vampire!Steddie // smut, fluff, dark-ish)

✧ deepthroat/facesitting - kinktober // It's Eddie's birthday and all he wants for breakfast is you. (smut)

✧ INK & NEEDLES // Fresh off a bad breakup, you walk into Steve and Eddie’s tattoo shop looking for a distraction. You leave with a lot more than just some ink. (smut, fluff)

Eddie Munson 🤘

✧ angel ~ You have had this surprise planned for weeks now. Tonight, you were going to dress up as an angel for Eddie but, what you hadn’t anticipated was the fact that Eddie would be coming home with the rest of the Hellfire’s club, incluing your little brother Dustin. (fluff, smut)

✧ dungeon Master meets his Mistress // Hellfire is short a member, so Dusting and the boys bed their old babysitter who taught them DnD to come play and because they know Eddie has a crush on he and wants to introduce them. (fluff)

✧ hair pulling (kinktober) // You weren’t even thinking when you pulled his hair to get his attention, didn’t notice the dark look in his eyes as he promised to make you pay later (smut)

✧ dacryphilia - kinktober // Eddie always loved teasing you but what happens when it goes too far? (smut)

✧ face sitting - kinktober // It was your six month anniversary and Eddie wanted only one thing, for you to sit on his face (smut)

✧ cold rings // Eddie was known for being a bad influence and you were more than happy to go along for the ride. (smut, fluff)

✧ pretty eyes // Eddie was your best friend but you were undoubtedly in love with him. During one of Steve's house parties, you find yourself in bed with him which wasn't unusual, you were only hugging after all... until your lips are brushing against his.  (fluff, smut)

✧ don’t distract me // Eddie had promised he would meet you after DnD to study for the upcoming exams but when he leaves you waiting in the rain, what will he do to make it up to you? (smut)

✧ you're mine, sweetheart // Eddie Munson loved many things but above all else, he loved teasing you, especially when it was so easy to do. All day he had been whispering into your ear and giving lingering touches and now, you were ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you. (smut)

✧ sweat - kinktober // Eddie was a pretty boy, and even prettier when he was sweating in his after-sex glow (smut)

✧ religion play/priest kink - kinktober // You were unsure as to what you'd done to offend the new priest. What's worse is that your mom had invited him over for dinner where you find him going through your bedside draw, revealing all of your well-kept secrets. (smut, dark)

✧ crave // You're confident, loud, and always in control-until Eddie Munson's praise turns you into something soft and aching. (smut, fluff)

Steve Harrington 😎

✧ roleplay - kinktober // It had been your idea to dress up for Halloween as characters from Scream. But, what happens when yo forget it's Steve under the mask? (smut, darkish)

Jim Hopper 👮

✧ desk duty // You're the sunshine of the Hawkins Police Station—always smiling and brightening everyone's day. Especially his. Chief Jim Hopper is gruff, intimidating, and far too old for you... But you've had a quiet crush on your boss since day one. The age gap, the power imbalance, and the rules make it impossible. Or at least, it should be—until one stormy night pushes everything past the point of no return. (smut)

[marigoldbaker]

sick day

read it on ao3!

Jenny figured that talking Willow down from her “Oh My God How Much Work Did I Miss” panic would be the hardest part of flu season, but when Rupert started coughing uncontrollably in the middle of a faculty meeting, she realized with an unpleasant jolt that she had an extremely difficult challenge ahead of her.

Namely, getting her workaholic of a boyfriend to take care of himself.

for @worn-whorehouse-stairs, who asked for sleep-deprived/loopy giles. this isn’t Exactly All About That, but i hope it is still something nice to read!!! i love u bunches and you deserve all the nice things <33

set somewhere in the interim between ted and surprise.

Flu season was sweeping through Sunnydale with such intensity that Jenny was seriously considering devoting some research time to looking up demonic viruses. Even Willow, who had had perfect attendance throughout the entire first semester, had had to miss a few days of school to get better. Jenny figured that talking Willow down from her “Oh My God How Much Work Did I Miss” panic would be the hardest part of flu season, but when Rupert started coughing uncontrollably in the middle of a faculty meeting, she realized with an unpleasant jolt that she had an extremely difficult challenge ahead of her.

Namely, getting her workaholic of a boyfriend to take care of himself.

���Really, Jenny, don’t fuss,” Rupert was saying irritably as they left the meeting. “I’m sure it’s only a light cough—”

“Xander threw up in class last week,” said Jenny stubbornly, “and he was saying that it was just a cough too. The only reason Buffy hasn’t caught whatever’s going around is because she is a Vampire Slayer—” she determinedly ignored the bemused look thrown in her direction by a passing group of students, “—and you are not that, so you need to take the day off before your cough gets worse.”

“I am not a teenager,” said Rupert. “I have a full-fledged immune system, and Sunnydale depends on my being present to—”

“Exactly!” Jenny persisted. “You need to be present! And you’re not doing anyone any favors if you get struck down with the flu!”

“Well, then, I’d best make use of the time that I can work, hadn’t I?” countered Rupert, grinning triumphantly as though he thought he was making some kind of a valid point.

“You’re completely missing what I’m trying to say,” said Jenny, crossing her arms and fixing him with the Look she gave students who tried to talk their way out of doing homework. It didn’t have the desired effect on Rupert, who gave her a Look right back. “You’re important, Rupert, to—” She stopped, blushing. Maybe it was too soon to go there. “To a lot of people,” she said awkwardly. “Probably.”

Rupert bit his lip, giving her a little sideways grin. God, Jenny missed the days when he didn’t know her well enough to pick up on what she was really saying. “Well,” he said. “Those people have no need to worry, because I can take care of myself just fine,” and he leaned in to kiss her.

“Ugh,” said Jenny, stopping him before he could. “No. Sick person germs.”

“Jenny, really, it was just a cough—”

“Taking no chances!” Jenny stepped back, giving him a thumbs-up. “Take care of yourself! Get better!”

Rupert rolled his eyes, but he was smiling a little as she turned to head to class.

And then, of course, Buffy called Jenny with that thread of panicked irritation in her voice that only ever came up when Rupert was being an idiot. Jenny, who had seen this coming a mile away, resignedly put down the papers she was grading and drove down to Sunnydale High, stopping only to pick up some ibuprofen for said idiot and some chocolate for Buffy.

Buffy appreciated the chocolate. “I deserve, like, so much candy for putting up with this,” she informed Jenny, taking a large bite of the Hershey’s bar. “He probably would have stayed passed out here all night if I hadn’t stopped by to check in, and where would we be then?”

“I am fine,” said Rupert, “if you would all stop fussing—”

“Facedown in the middle of a book is not fine, sweetie,” said Jenny, crossing the room to gently touch his cheek. “And I’m no expert, but it looks like you’re running a fever. You’re coming home with me.”

“Are you propositioning me in front of my Slayer, Ms. Calendar?” quipped Rupert, then sneezed.

“Yes,” said Jenny dryly, patting his shoulder. “That is definitely what I’m doing right now.” To Buffy, she added, “You kids can hold down the fort while I keep an eye on him, right?”

“Pretty much,” said Buffy, shrugging. “We’ll beep you if there’s an issue.” Her face softened slightly as she looked at both of them. “Thanks for doing this,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one he’d listen to.”

“Hardly,” said Jenny, amused. “I told him two days ago that he should take it easy.”

“If you would all stop talking about me as though I’m dead,” Rupert interjected, tried to stand up, and swayed alarmingly.

Buffy moved forward, steadying him. “I can still help you guys get home?” she offered. “I’m not going to be getting sick any time soon—thank you, Slayer mojo,” she grinned, ponytail swishing, “and I’m pretty sure trying to hold Giles up might totally crush you. You’re super tiny.”

“Pot, kettle,” Jenny pointed out, but gave Buffy a grateful smile in return.

“Now hold on,” said Rupert, still leaning heavily on Buffy. “I have not in any way agreed to this.”

“Aww, isn’t he sweet?” Buffy patted Rupert’s arm. “He thinks he has a choice!”

“So cute,” Jenny agreed, leaning in to kiss Rupert on the cheek. “All right, to my car?”

“No,” said Rupert.

“To your car!” Buffy sang out, towing Rupert out of the library. Pleased by her success, Jenny followed.

So it turned out Jenny had been completely off base, calling taking care of Rupert a challenge. Challenge was the word she used to describe troublesome students, or a virus on her computer, or another generally frustrating but inevitably solvable problem. In essence, calling Rupert’s illness a challenge implied that there was a logical way to figure out how to help him, and a good two hours spent trying to convince him to take cold medicine had made it clear that that was very much not the case.

“It’ll make me all loopy, Jenny,” Rupert informed her, completely disregarding the fact that he had said this exact sentence a good five times already. “A Watcher needs to be on high alert, not—not incapacitated by medicines designed to ease one into sleep—”

“Rupert,” said Jenny, who was by this point absolutely exhausted, “take the damn medicine.”

“I am a Watcher,” said Rupert with dignity, “not an invalid, and I shall not waste time being sick!”

“It’s not a waste of time to just let me take care of you!” Jenny snapped, too tired to remember how to be gentle. “Just—god, Rupert, you’re sick, and I care about you, and I want you to get better! And you’re not going to be doing that if you refuse point-blank to do the things that will help you get better!”

Rupert blinked at her, stunned. Then, in one smooth motion, he picked up the cold medicine, poured it into the little plastic cup, and drank it.

Jenny looked at him for a long five seconds, trying to figure out what the hell she had said that had changed his mind. “Okay,” she said, exhausted. “Are we going to have to spend another two hours trying to get you into bed, or—”

Rupert reached out and took her hand, and Jenny realized that he was shaking. “No, you can—you can just—I’ll go to bed, Jenny,” he murmured, squeezing her hand.

“I’ll help you,” said Jenny immediately. “Lean on me.”

“I’m f—” At the look on Jenny’s face, Rupert stopped, then let her help him up without further comment.

As Jenny carefully led him to her bedroom, she found herself wondering if her taking care of him had been as good an idea as she’d thought it was. Granted, she knew he needed someone there, because otherwise he’d have ended up researching until he was legitimately too sick to work, but…was she the kind of someone who was cut out for playing nurse? Their relationship always felt so fragile as it was—more than he realized, even, considering what she was keeping from him—and she felt as though she wasn’t good at being anything but frustrated and tired. Rupert was the gentle, caring one, with his soft touches and sweet kisses. If it had been her sick, Rupert would have been patient, and calm, and so much better at this.

Jenny was brought out of her mini-spiral as they reached her bedroom and then her bed, at which point she gently lowered Rupert down to the best of her abilities. He hadn’t been leaning on her quite as much as Buffy, which made the process a little easier, because Buffy hadn’t been wrong about how much bigger Rupert was than her. “Rest up, okay?” she whispered, then pressed an awkward kiss to his cheek, hoping it might make up for her impassioned outburst.

“Mm. Love you,” Rupert mumbled, eyes already shut.

Jenny felt his words like a jolt to her system. He thinks you’re someone else, her brain was telling her, he’s hopped up on cold medicine, he doesn’t know what he’s saying—but the part of her that knew they could both pretend this didn’t happen in the morning, that part of her let her lean down and whisper, “I love you too. Rest up.”

Jenny woke up all stiff and achy, Rupert’s head pillowed on her lap. She was used to stretching out and sprawling across the bed like a starfish, so lying propped up against the pillows with a weight in her lap (however much-loved that weight might be) wasn’t exactly conducive to a good night’s sleep.

Rupert was awake, and looked almost nervously up at her, as though expecting her to push him away. “Morning,” he said hoarsely.

“You sound awful,” Jenny informed him, unable to keep the tenderness out of her voice. “Do you want some water?”

“Hm,” said Rupert noncommittally, snuggling his cheek into her leg.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Tired,” Rupert mumbled, closing his eyes again.

Jenny sighed, leaning back into the pillows and trying to feel bad about telling Rupert she loved him last night. She didn’t. Most of what she felt right now was tired, coupled with a little warm rush every time Rupert shifted to get more comfortable. She ran her hand through his hair and thought about how maybe she could try and make him tea when he was feeling a little better.

It took Rupert about fifteen minutes to properly wake up, at which point he sat up, leaned against the pillows, and said tiredly, “I don’t want to be a bother, Jenny—you have better things to do than to, to take care of me—”

“Shh,” said Jenny, and kissed his forehead. “How’s your throat? Do you want me to make you some tea?”

Rupert didn’t answer. He leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut, and bumped his forehead against Jenny’s. “Don’t go, will you?” he mumbled. It didn’t sound at all like he was talking about her leaving to go make tea.

“Not ever,” Jenny promised without thinking. Rupert’s eyes snapped up to meet hers—promises were different in the morning, when they were both wide awake—and she blushed, stumbling to qualify her statement. “I mean—not ever as in I’m not ever leaving while—while you’re, um, sick. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Rupert agreed. He had a small, wondrous smile on his face.

Jenny almost wanted to ask if he remembered how, the night before, he’d said love you and she’d said I love you too. She decided against it. Call her a romantic, but she kinda didn’t want such a monumental moment to be while Rupert was sick and she had barely gotten any sleep. “Tea?” she asked.

“Please,” said Rupert, and rubbed his nose against hers.

Jenny smiled, squeezed his shoulder, and clambered awkwardly off the bed, realizing belatedly that neither of them had ever changed out of their work clothes. Sighing, she pulled her sweater off, then stepped out of her skirt, rummaging for a t-shirt and sweats in the bureau. “I think I have chamomile,” she said over her shoulder. “Will that be okay?”

“Quite,” said Rupert, who seemed to be restricting himself to one-word answers.

T-shirt on, Jenny turned, donning the shorts as she gave Rupert a sympathetic smile. “Throat that bad?” she asked.

Rupert made a face.

God, he was cute. How dare he be that cute? “Okay, well, I’ll go try and fix that for you,” said Jenny, and leaned down over him to press a quick kiss to his mouth. “Stay here and I’ll come back in with tea and—are you hungry?” Rupert shook his head. “So just tea for now.”

Jenny wasn’t very good at making people tea. She’d always been more of a coffee girl herself, and when she was sick, she usually just drove out and bought herself some tea from Starbucks or something. It was a trial-and-error kind of process, and the tea came out tasting mostly like hot water, but Rupert’s face lit up when she came in with the mug, which made everything feel worth it.

“Is it doing anything?” she asked, wincing a little at the look on Rupert’s face as he took a sip. “I know I’m not that great at—”

Rupert put the tea down. He reached across the bed and held her hand.

“Oh,” said Jenny, and blushed. “Okay.”

“Terrible tea, Jenny,” said Rupert, but he said it in the same way he’d said that he loved her. “Really quite awful.”

Jenny laughed and moved a little closer to him. “Feeling better?” she asked, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

Rupert hummed, leaning into her hand. “A bit,” he said. “Helps to get some sleep.”

“Are you gonna fight me if I ask you to take some ibuprofen?”

“I don’t think so,” said Rupert softly.

Jenny smiled, a little frustrated, a little in love. “What changed?” she asked.

Rupert hesitated. Then he said, “I don’t think anyone has ever taken care of me when I get sick. Not with—not for a reason outside what they expect of me.”

That statement, coming from one of the best people Jenny knew, made her want to punch a wall. Or a Watcher. Or whatever family member that had instilled such a fucked-up sense of duty in someone so fucking precious. “Well, I do expect you to get better,” she said, trying to laugh.

“Jenny,” said Rupert wryly, like he knew what she was trying to do.

Jenny exhaled, a nervous breath. “I’m not very good at taking care of people,” she said. “But—” and she didn’t know how to finish that sentence without turning this relationship into something really permanent. She stopped herself, and kissed him.

Rupert kissed her back, rubbing his nose against hers when she pulled away. “You’re doing a damn good job, I think,” he informed her.

“You haven’t been taken care of before,” Jenny countered. “I could be doing a terrible job and it’d still be better than nothing.”

“You’re trying,” said Rupert, “and that’s what counts,” and he rolled onto his side, throwing an arm over her stomach. “I,” he said, “am going back to sleep, I think. If the children beep you, tell them that I am ill and that you are my de facto Watcher for the day.”

“Sounds fun,” said Jenny, kissing the top of his head. “Do I get to wear tweed and talk all British?”

“Only if the children get it on video,” said Rupert into her shoulder.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Giles,” said Jenny contentedly, settling back into the pillows. “Let me know if you need anything, okay, babe?”

“Babe,” Rupert repeated, and giggled to himself. Jenny decided to attribute that to sick-person brain.

Buffy and the kids showed up with a care package after school, full of crossword puzzles and British-looking snacks and chicken soup from Buffy’s mom. “Tell him get better soon from us!” said Buffy earnestly, handing the package over. “We’d stay, but, y’know—sick person germs.”

“Gotcha,” said Jenny, grinning. “He’ll be happy you guys stopped by. I’m pretty sure he’s still napping, anyway, so—”

“Nice place, Ms. Calendar!” said Xander with interest, peering over Buffy’s shoulder. “Is that the new Nintendo system?”

“Anyway,” said Jenny. As much as she liked these kids, she was pretty sure Rupert needed actual rest, and having three teenagers loudly playing video games in her living room might make it difficult for her stuffy librarian to get some sleep.

“She’ll let you play on it when Giles gets better,” said Willow wisely, shepherding Buffy and Xander down the stairs. “Thanks for taking care of Giles, Ms. Calendar!”

“Of course she’s gonna take care of him,” Jenny heard Buffy saying, “she li-ikes him—” at which point Jenny shut the door, amused.

Rupert was in that semi-foggy half-asleep state that he’d been in for most of the day, but he did perk up a little when Jenny came in with the care package, which was, frankly one of the most adorable things she had ever seen. “Is that for me?” he said, visibly delighted.

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Jenny answered, sitting down on the bed next to him and opening the package. “Lots of sick person stuff. Plus some chicken soup from Mrs. Summers, if you’re feeling up to eating…?”

“I can manage chicken soup, I think,” said Rupert happily, pressing a slightly off-center kiss to Jenny’s cheek. “This really is very nice, Jenny, thank you very much for doing it—”

Jenny decided that now probably wouldn’t be the right time to remind him that she had spent a good two days fighting him to get him to lie down. “Of course,” she said instead, squeezing his shoulder. “How’s my English patient?”

“A bit better, I think,” said Rupert, then sneezed. “Well. Not all better, but getting there.”

“That’s a good start,” said Jenny, her voice softening. “You work yourself too hard, you know that?”

She was expecting some opposition from Rupert on this point. What she wasn’t expecting was for him to sigh, lean into her, and say quietly, “I know.”

“Then why do it?”

“Who else will?”

“Me,” said Jenny.

Rupert looked slowly up at her, a look in his eyes she had only seen a few times before. The moment after their first kiss, the night when he draped his jacket over her shoulders, and—now. Apparently. “You,” he echoed, as though finding the answer to a question he hadn’t known he had.

I love you too, Jenny thought, and realized that maybe they didn’t need to say it to know it.