#short and sweet baby

[macabr3-barbi3]

a request, a need, a plea even:

shotgun kiss with human!alastor

ANON I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX SINCE MAY 😭 I PROMISE I NEVER FORGOT ABOUT YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY

The air is cold when you step outside the diner, fingers trembling and goosebumps erupting along your arms. You had claimed it was for a smoke break, but really you just needed to get out of the building for a moment- the loud, boisterous group that had taken up residence at one of your tables had been grating on your nerves all night, and you knew they weren’t going to tip well, so you just needed a break. You had forgotten your cigarettes at home, and your fingers itch to actually hold one between them, but you would take whatever reprieve you could get. 

Gravel crunches nearby, and you turn to see a man step into the alleyway behind the diner with you. Tall, lean muscles and a mop of dark, curly hair, you greet Alastor with a smile as you always did. He gives you a wave, soft and timid as he approaches, like you haven’t had weeks of time to get to know one another on your smoke breaks during work; you from the diner, him from the broadcast station across the alley.

You make polite conversation for the better part of your break, talking about his most recent shows and the reporting that he had been doing on the serial killer in New Orleans a couple towns over. As always, the air is amicable and comfortable between the two of you while he smokes down towards the butt of his cigarette. It was always nice to spend time with him- he was polite, charming, and handsome as the Devil himself. Who could blame a gal for falling a little bit in love?

Your coworker steps out and lets you know that your table had skipped out without paying, shooting a wink your way when she notices Alastor with you, and the need for a nicotine hit increases tenfold; you’re ashamed to admit to fluttering your lashes coyly at him. “Alastor, you mind if I bum one of those off you?” You ask him demurely, gesturing to the cigarette he holds as he brings it to his lips and to the light.

“Ah, haven’t you learned to keep your own on hand after all this time? I’m afraid this is my last one, my dear,” he says, and your heart sinks while you watch him blow rings into the cool air of the night. “Don’t look so put out,” he chuckles, stepping closer and wrapping a hand around your waist- the shock of it prevents you from putting up any real fight against it, relishing in the warmth that greets you when he pulls you into his chest. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t share.” He takes another strong suck of the cigarette and leans down into your personal space, hand coming up from your waist to coax your lips open with his thumb before he slides it into your hair.

He cranes his neck to meet at your height, lips just barely brushing yours before he’s exhaling smoke into your mouth; you inhale greedily, the sweet buzz of the nicotine mixing with something spicy and dark, so unmistakably Alastor that it makes your head swim. He’d never been so forward before, had never even asked you out to a bar or to dance before, and here he was pressing your lips together like it was second nature to share the air in one another’s lungs. It burns in your veins in the best way possible.

The motion is repeated, over and over with the ash of the cigarette dropping down over his fingers as he puffs and breathed them into you. Your own hands come up to clutch at the fabric of his shirt, like without it you might simply drop to the floor. He doesn’t seem to mind the way your lashes flutter every time he backs off for normal oxygen once again, his own eyes half-lidded and dilated with every pass that the smoke takes between the two of you.

His tongue flicks against yours as he pulls away the final time; the cigarette has burned down to the end, and his usual smile is back in place. “How was that?” Alastor asks softly, using the hand that had parted your lips to cup your cheek, gazing down at you in the dim glow of the streetlight. “You think that was enough of a hit?”

“I- I think I might need another,” you manage to breathe out, and he laughs low and dark, the remnants of the cigarette dropping to the ground where he grinds it in with his heel as he holds you close to him and leans in for a proper, smokeless kiss.

[yeoldehetalian]

Get To Know Me Tag!

I was tagged by @une-pomm3

Last Song: Better Me by R3hab

Currently Watching: A documentary about bison

Currently Reading: Bringing Out the Dead by Joe Connelly

Current Obsession: actually drawing again 8)

Tagging: @floralcrematorium, @madam-of-lithuania

[massivetittiesandwarcrimes]

When asked who his favorite brother was, Dick answered 'Tim' without hesitation. When asked why, he glares at Jason (6'1) and Damian (6'3) and says that unlike his other Little Brothers, Tim (5'7) actually understood how things were supposed to work around here!

[fairyygore]

[loloslaystheday]

Spark

pairing: rengoku kyojuro x f!wife!reader

prompt: kyojuro's excited to welcome his little girl into the family, but he never expected the emotions to hit so hard.

note: i was so unsure how to name this and i spent like 30 mins thinking of the pairing😭 im supposed to be sleeping bc i have testing tomorrow but oh well🤷🏾‍♀️

kyojuro never even thought of getting married. well... he never really even thought about it until he met you,. but to him,marriage was it.

when you asked him about having kids that was the first time he ever thought about it. he didn't really care about carrying on the family name, he had a brother and just cared about being with you.

but he would never deny his wife, who gave him everything he ever asked for, this one thing that she asked for.

he was ecstatic when you came to him with the good news; you were pregnant. he didn’t mind taking care of you at all until you had the baby. whatever you asked for he got, no questions asked.

and when the day finally came to welcome their little bundle of joy into the world, and he saw her face, and he held her in his arms, he didn’t know how hard the moment would hit him. she looked so small compared to him and it choked him up.

before he knew it, tears streamed down his face despite his fond and loving smile.

“she looks just like you.” he sniffs. you smile back at him, grabbing his free hand and squeezing it firmly.

she made small whimpers and shifted a bit. her little nose twitched with the ragged breaths and she couldn’t sit still in his arms.

he looked back up at you now. “thank you.”

you scoffed and rolled your eyes with a small laugh.

“she’s a momma’s girl.” you winked at kyojuro. “think ill be the favorite.”

“well, you are my favorite.”

“ah, so she gets it from you?” he nodded. you laughed, kissing his hand before leaning against it. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

[verstappentime]

max revealed this week that he was definitely driving with brain damage after his silverstone crash and struggled to see during his win at the U.S. grand prix that year (3 months later). obviously this yields hurt/comfort maxiel. daniel isn't too happy about all of this. max's poor head hurts.

→ →→ it’s gp who finds daniel, intercepting him as he comes out of his driver’s room. “max needs you, mate,” he says, calm but serious. maybe a little exasperated.

of course daniel goes.

gp presses a water bottle, mixed with some kind of blue powder, into his hand. “he needs to drink this. and tell him we’re having a look at his visor, okay?”

daniel nods, even though that means nothing to him.

he finds max on the floor with all the lights off, almost tripping over him. “baby,” he says, heart already in his throat. “whatcha doing down there?”

max doesn’t say anything. daniel goes for the light switch; max whines straight away, breathing harshly through his nose. “leave them off.” it sounds like he’s gritting his teeth.

fuck. daniel crouches down beside him. “maxy? is it a migraine?” max is all balled up, his forehead against his knees, navy kit making it hard to see him in the dark. daniel sets a hand on the back of his neck – he’s overwarm and still sticky with champagne. he looked okay, after the race. he looked fine. he hasn’t had a migraine in months, after a string of them following silverstone.

max still isn’t talking. daniel’s heart is thumping in his chest. he tries, “gp says they’re looking at your visor?”

max reaches around blindly, finding his phone and holding it out to daniel. “text him and tell him not to do that. say i’m fine.”

“what?”

max waves the phone at him. “tell him good win, thank you, whatever, and there’s no need, and i’m fine. daniel, please text him.”

“max. you’re not–”

“daniel.” max presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. “fuck. just say it. i don’t want anyone staying late.”

“then you’ll tell me what’s wrong?” daniel’s worried enough to resort to bartering.

“yes. sure. whatever.”

it’s enough for daniel to tap out the text, trying to mimic the punctuation max would use. “okay. talk.” max reaches out, and daniel doesn’t realize what he wants until he starts patting the back of daniel’s hand. he links their fingers, squeezing. when max doesn’t start right away, he prompts, “can you tell me why gp is worried about your helmet?”

“on the track. i couldn’t. like. see.” max squeezes his hand harder. “fuck, that hurts.”

“you– what? you couldn’t see what?”

“anything?” max makes a miserable noise. “like, everything was– blurry? is that what you say? and i was trying to focus, it was hurting my head. but i’ll sit here for a while and it’ll be fine. just. probably gp didn’t want to leave me on the floor alone.”

“you– max, what?” daniel worried about this for weeks, after silverstone. he read every pamphlet on what he was supposed to watch for, which symptoms meant max needed to go back to the hospital. watched every meal to make sure max wasn’t nauseous, made him rate every headache out of 10. “you were driving, and you couldn’t see?”

“i was thinking maybe i would stop, but i needed to win this one, and i could, so i did.”

“you were thinking maybe you would stop.” max verstappen was going to pull out of a race. fuckfuckfuck. “max, that really isn’t good. it’s– it didn’t hurt at first? not like a migraine?” they’d explained that in the pamphlet. tunnel vision was a migraine; blurred vision was not.

max gives a little shake of his head.

“that’s. they told us to watch for that, do you remember?” daniel lets go of max’s hand, gripping him at both arms. he wants to fucking shake him, but he’s too afraid of hurting him. “it’s. like. a sign of post concussion syndrome. fuck, max, has this happened before?"

“sometimes in the sim,” max says. “whenever i’m looking at a screen for a long time. i don’t know. it goes away. it’s not– i’m not sick or something.”

daniel wishes he had the fucking pamphlet. “max, it’s been three months since your crash. you shouldn’t be driving, you shouldn’t have been driving, i knew it was worse than you were letting on—”

“daniel, you’re hurting me.” max’s voice shrinking. daniel hadn’t noticed how tight his grip had become.

“fuck. sorry. sorry.” daniel lets go, soothing his hands up max’s arms. “can we go to medical? please?”

“no,” max says emphatically.

“max, i think something’s really wrong.” he thinks of max, woozy on the track, not knowing someone’s coming up on his side. bang. smoke.

“i hit my fucking head at 51G. that is what’s wrong. it will get better.”

max is alive and right in front of him, but he’s thinking of jules, in a coma all those months. “you should have told me. you can’t fuck around with this.” god, he sounds mean, but it’s just that he can feel his pulse up to his ears and he needs max to be alright.

“i just want to go home. it hurts so much, daniel.” max sounds so tired. it’s enough to snap him back. because max actually needs him right now, not in some imaginary future disaster world.

“okay. yeah. i’m sorry, baby. we’ll go home.” he’s giving up too easily, but. max never says anything hurts, unless it’s a papercut or something stupid he can pester daniel about for days. he tries to do some of michael’s stupid box breathing technique. four in. four out. okay. take care of max, idiot.

max lets himself be helped up and settled into a chair. he covers his eyes as daniel turns the lights on. they’ve both long missed their debriefs; daniel doesn’t bother looking at his phone. he assumes someone explained for him somehow.

“there’s medicine in my bag, the headache stuff,” max mumbles.

daniel’s hands feel clumsy as he fishes it the bottle out and opens it, taking out two tablets and pressing them into max’s clammy palm. he hands him the blue concoction gp gave him. “drink that, too, hey?” they’d done this so many times back in july. he’d really thought it was over.

daniel fishes through the bag some more, coming up with max’s sunglasses. max puts them on, looking ridiculous as daniel goes around collecting his stuff. he nurses the blue thing quietly, hugging his backpack to his chest when daniel hands it to him. the only other time daniel’s seen max this quiet was after silverstone, stony-faced and wrung out when they’d finally arrived back to the hotel and max had been cleared to go to sleep.

“okay, baby, i think we have everything,” he says quietly, anxiety starting to fade into guilt. he’s not going to convince max to stay out of the car, and they both know that. if max can survive the next month and a half, he’ll win the world championship and then they can fucking. breathe. daniel will make him rest if he has to.

max lets himself be guided to the car with a gentle hand on the small of his back. daniel does his seatbelt for him like he’s a child. he doesn’t even know why. “are we fighting?” max asks, still hugging his backpack.

“no. no? i don't think so. we can talk later. let’s just. you need a shower and sleep.”

“you think gp got my trophy?”

“i’m sure he did, max.” daniel can’t help the tiniest smile. god, this fucking kid.

[snail17]

A short fic about little Megumi having a nightmare, and Gojo caring (He's a good dad).

Megumi woke in the middle of the night, from a bad dream. The young seven-year-old was upset and couldn't go to back to sleep, so he got up. His footsteps were light and quiet on the tiles as he headed towards the kitchen for a glass of water.

Once he had sufficiently hydrated himself, young Megumi was unsure what to do. He didn't want to go back to his bed alone, and he didn't want to disturb Tsumiki’s sleep, so he decided to do the next best thing.

Go to Gojo.

With careful, measured movements, Megumi crept down the hall and opened Gojo’s door. His small face was etched in a frown. Gojo was fast asleep, lightly snoring with his long limbs stretched out across the bed.

Megumi leaned over and poked his cheek, trying to wake the sleeping man.

Gojo suddenly shifted, his eyes opening slowly as he yawned. He sat up a bit, leaning on his elbow and blinking to adjust to the darkness. He saw Megumi standing there silently. He frowned, slightly confused and still half-asleep.

"Megumi? What's wrong, buddy?"

"I had a nightmare," Megumi mumbled, looking down. His voice was small and soft as he fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. Gojo sighed, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

"Come here."

Megumi didn't protest, and instead quickly climbed onto the bed, crawling next to Gojo. The older of the two pulled the boy closer, wrapping an arm around him. Gojo's presence had always made Megumi feel safe and secure.

He was the strongest, after all.

"What was the nightmare about?" Gojo asked, his voice gentle. He was used to having Megumi come to him after a bad dream, but he always made sure to ask what the dream was about, just to make sure everything was alright.

"There was a big monster," Megumi huffed, clinging onto Gojo's shirt. "It was chasing me."

Gojo frowned, his protective instincts kicking in. He gently hugged Megumi tighter, running a hand through the boy's hair.

"It's okay, it was just a dream," Gojo reassured, his voice low and soothing. "Monsters can't hurt you. Not when I'm here."

Megumi nodded and yawned, his eyes going half-lidded as he leaned into Gojo's touch. He felt a bit embarrassed at coming to Gojo for something so stupid, but he was only a child.

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

Gojo chuckled softly, a small smile on his face.

"Of course you can, kiddo."

Gojo rearranged the blankets, laying back down on the bed and pulling Megumi against him. The boy snuggled into Gojo's side, his breathing starting to even out as he relaxed.

Gojo continued to run his hand through Megumi's hair, holding him close and watching as the young boy drifted back to sleep. He couldn't help but feel a surge of tenderness and protectiveness towards the young child in his arms.

"Sleep well, kid," he whispered, his eyes softening as he gazed down at Megumi.

Gojo gently rested his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes. He knew that he'd sleep restlessly, keeping one ear open in case Megumi needed him again during the night.

For now, he just held the young child close, his arm protectively wrapped around him.

Gojo lay there for a while in the silence, just holding Megumi and listening to the sound of the boy's soft breathing. He couldn't help but smile a little as he felt Megumi's small hand gripping onto his shirt, even in sleep. It was a silent reminder of the bond he had formed with the young boy.

It was times like these that Gojo truly felt like a father figure to Megumi. He felt a deep sense of responsibility and affection towards the young child, and he would do anything to protect him.

He'd do everything in his power to protect that bond.

[like-wuatafauq]

I need a sweet angel femme to sit on my lap, I need her to scoot back and feel my strap underneath my sweats and be a bit shy when she turns her whole body to face me. I need her to wrap her legs around me to be as close to me as possible and let out a humming noise when I tell her that if she's good to me I'll give her whatever she wants. I need a pretty princess just for me and no one else not just because she knows I'm selfish but because she only wants to be pleased by me.

Mmm as she starts kissing my neck to convince me she's good to me, she can't help but to desperately ride my butch cock over my sweats. I need her to speak softly and breathy about how she could never do me wrong. I want her to be sweet,soft,true and so so so good to me that I have no choice but to fill her up. I want her to feel how special she is. I don't want to tell her she's a good girl, no, if she's so so so good to me, she is a sweet angel. My sweet angel, and I want her to feel back at home while I'm inside her. I want her to feel so high and heavenly as I wrap my arms around her body tightly and fuck her until she can't say anything but just let out moans. I want to make her cum over and over for being so good to me, I want to kiss her in a way that she knows she's so easy to love. That being so good to me will always have its rewards.

[saetoru]

lil space nerd suguru is so precious to me. that one guy in your classes who’s got that neat lil man bun and bangs framing his face—sometimes he wears glasses when he’s especially tired in the mornings. he’s always taking diligent notes and pays attention in every class—even when that loud, talkative white haired guy who’s always with him is bugging him on the side. he’s always wearing baggy clothes that are two sizes too big for him and no one has really heard him talk more than he absolutely needs to because he keeps to himself.

and then you get to know him. he’s more talkative than you realize, slips in a sly comment that flusters you a bit without even trying. you didn’t realize he could be so smooth—but you suppose someone who’s so quiet and keeps to themselves so often is probably observant enough to know the little things about you. he’s painfully smart and knows random little things about random topics, but especially loves space. he’s a bit bashful when you notice the collection of books in his room for the first time. and sometimes, if you ask the right questions and seem genuinely interested enough, he’ll ramble a bit and throw in a bunch of facts and theories that he knows, too focused on speaking to notice the way you’re staring at him in awe. his hair frames his face perfectly and his jaw is sharp and his eyes get so animated when he’s passionate about something.

and then, under all those baggy clothes, he’s actually broad and muscled—strong arms and hands that wrap around your waist or settle on your hips and pull you against a sturdy chest. sometimes, when it’s just the two of you, he sits around shirtless with his hair down, glasses perched on his nose as he lays on your lap. he’s pretty like that—he’s pretty all the time, but especially when he’s alone with you and let’s himself be more open. he’s not so quiet when you get to really know him, a little bit of a tease when he wants to be, endearingly talkative when the topic is up his alley, and so gentle and sweet and patient and kind, it’s easy enough to fall in love with him. it’s even easier to never stop.

[thejujvtsupost]

Ten fingers and Ten Toes

I don’t know where this came from but it exists now. Just something short and sweet.

Notes: F!reader, fluff, established marriage, newborns and other baby stuff included.

Coming home from a particularly nasty mission to the sight he’s been missing all day long.

Nanami knows he’s late, he knows you’re waiting up for him. His mission took longer than expected and he hated missing any moment at home.

The baby would be asleep by now, hopefully, but there’s always tomorrow, and there’s nothing stopping him from popping his head in the nursery to check on the baby. Just to make sure he still had ten fingers and ten toes.

Your son, Yu, has your eyes and Kento’s blond hair, mix that with his gummy smile and he was too cute to look away from.

“Someone having a rough night?” Nanami walked into your bedroom and found you feeding Yu.

“I think he was just hungry and missing his dad.”

“Sorry I’m late-”

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m just glad you’re back. Did your mission go well?”

Nanami sighed, your understanding nature was a blessing. He hated disappointing you. “It was… troublesome and tiring. But it was ultimately successful.”

You hummed and Yu decided he was full, “Mind if I burp him?” Nanami laid a towel over his shoulder and took him gingerly. With the gentlest hand, he started patting your son’s back. “Hi, to you too sweetheart.”

The sight made you smile, knowing your partner was an active parent took the weight off your shoulders. Nanami loved your baby beyond words. The sound of rhythmic patting was almost putting you to sleep.

“Oh that was a great burp buddy!” The exclamation alerted you fully awake. “Let’s see if you got one more in there for daddy.”

Tears definitely weren’t welling in your eyes. Nope. Okay- it’s not your fault. Pregnancy and motherhood has rocked your emotions.

Nanami wasn’t concerned about your tears. He knew you had become extra emotional, he was still curious about what triggered the crying though and asked. “You guys are so cute.”

He smiled and turned his head to kiss his now asleep son’s head. “I can’t believe how small he is.”

“I can’t believe how fast he fell asleep for you, he’s been restless today. Barely took a single nap.”

Your husband just hummed in response- smugly, in your opinion. “I’ll take him to his crib, you get comfortable.”

“Kento you haven’t even taken your jacket off yet, let me.” You were about to stand up and take him but you were denied- only able to kiss your baby’s head goodnight.

“It’s not far, you’ve been taking care of him all day long and you look exhausted.”

His intention was to help, but secretly, he might be a little bit selfish with the baby. How could he not want to spend every waking moment with him, after all?

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open!

[potatobugz]

shout out to barbarian tweek how has he not gotten like hypothermia

[arsonforcharlie]

sup everyone meet Toronto Pigeon, she's a big sook who only wants to cuddle and be held and I love her so much

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Costume

I had a a few ideas for drabbles :3 And I settled on this one for now :3

Mostly because I have one mental image in my head that is just too cute to pass up and I wanted to add more cuteness to this AU so here we GO! @spotaus You ready my friend?

First drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Als I am really considering making a masterpost for these drabbles and any related asks/answers and drawings people make... Just a thought.

*------------------*

Cross watches as Nightmare looks at the different options of costumes. They are in the bigger city nearby to actually give him some options.

It had been thanks to Crop that they even knew about this happening. Kinda like a halloween get together but it mostly celebrates the start of the colder seasons and the time of rest the land needs.

But with everyone in costume because Halloween happens around the same time.

But it gave them the excuse to take Nightmare out on a tiny trip and let him pick out soemthing he would like to wear. Killer says he is making progress on that front but Cross doubts it as Nightmare still just only wears the stuff they picked out for him or Dust's old things.

Even if Nightmare looks adorable in the for him much too big hoody.

Cross smiles down at Nightmare "And? Any ideas for what you want to be dressed as?"

Nightmare shoots him a look and shrugs "Why get dressed? I am a skeleton... That is spooky enough right?"

Cross feels part of his soul melt but tries to keep it in. Nightmare hadn't fully noticed that his way of speaking is starting to slip more and more into more childlike talking and words. Even if he still tries to speak in his fancy way. It is just too cute.

Cross sees it as them doing a good job at this whole parent thing.

Cross grins "True... But Horror already decided to go as a lumberjack and Killer is going as Jason from friday the 13th." Cross himself hadn't decided yet and Cross knows that Dust is planning on just matching whatever Nightmare wants to get dressed as.

Nightmare frowns and stares at all the options. He points towards a costume and Cross checks it.

It is the cheapest thing there is.

Cross saw this coming but he knows how to deal with that! Cross grins "Oh? A little devil? We can do that. Come. We can look at more costumes for that."

Nightmare looks a lot more unsure as he rubs his arm "This is fine... stuff is expensive."

Cross crouches down and leans on his hand "Hey... it is fine... Dust got a budget together and everything. Let me worry about money okay?"

Nightmare frowns but looks considered at some of the more detailed options instead of the cheap stuff. Much better. Nightmare slowly starts to gravitate towards the vampire stuff and Cross starts to think this may be a success when-

a soft sizzle.

Oh are you kidding him!?

"You seriously gonna let him get that stuff?"

Nightmare blinks and grins brightly at the sound of Error and searches for him before spotting him near the ceiling.

Cross glares and hisses "Error." he glances around nervously.

Error snorts "Calm down. I know how to time stuff. People hardly ever notice I am in universes. Seriously though. yOu are going to let him grab this shi-stuff." Error quickly changes his sentence when Cross glares at him.

Cross crosses his arms "Well we want to have stuff to get dressed in for the party. We are trying to fit in."

Nightmare looks up at Cross and smiles a tiny bit "Error can look with us?"

Cross really wants to say no. Not like Killer. Killer hates the fact that Nightmare has a crush on the other. Cross just doesn't want to deal witht he headache that is Error himself.

Now that Cross knows what he knows he realised that Nightmare always had a crush on Error. No one ever noticed because... well... Nightmare went about those feelings as any six year old did. hanging out, trying to invite the other to play with them. bringing small tokens and things. trying to be included.

Error snorts "Nah. Don't want to be stuck in this store of bad quality." and he nudges one of the costumes offered.

Cross sighs annoyed "So why appear?"

Error looks smug "I saw you were going to let Nightmare grab bad quality stuff. of course i step in."

That is another thing Cross doesn't like. Knowing that Error just, glances in whenever he feels like it. Cross glares and hisses "Stop having a window on us open. One it is weird and two if anyone sees it!"

Error waves it off "I just check for a few seconds when i know it is clear. Calm down." he shoots Ngihtmare a look "Seriously though. You are a god. don't gods deserve like the best things?"

Nightmare shrugs and mutters "Jsut got stuff because they wanted it..."

Cross also finds it rich coming from Error as Error still wears some upgraded hobo-jacket that looks like it is barely holding it together.

Error blinks before huffing "Yeah no. I am getting you a costume of actual quality." he looks areound "vampire?"

Nightmare suddenly looks a lot less comfortable with the attention adn returns to Cross's side to hide partly. Nightmare never likes it when others start offering stuff to him. Cross leans downa dn picks up their small charge.

Cross nudges their skulls together and mutters "It is okay. You had an idea of what you like?"

Nightmare just pushes clsoer "it is dumb. easy stuff is fine."

Cross nudges him again "It isn't dumb. What do you want?"

Nightmare remains quiet for a long time and Cross waits patiently. Just let him feel it out first. Let him decide for himself. Error looks a lot less patient as he just stands there, obviously wnating to tap his foot but refrains from it.

Nightmare eventually mutters "liked... vampire becuase it is a bat..."

Cross blinks and grins "You want to be a tiny bat?"

Ngihtmar eshrugs again and tries to hide further. Clearly done with being verbal.

Cross nods and nzuzles the skull "I am sure we can figure out a tiny bat costume." MAybe they can get a cape? get some wings attached? Cross is srue they can figure it out-

Error nods "A bat. That is easy." he looks thoughtful before nodding and with a sizzle he is gone.

Cross sighs loudly but Ngihtmare giggles and gives a happy mutter "He likes me."

Cross sighs loudly "You are very clearly he favourite. Which isn't a good thing bud, you don't want to be a god's favourite." at least that is the lesson Cross got out of stories.

Nightmare hums as he nuzzles his skull against Cross's "You guys were always my favourites..."

Cross hugs Ngihtmare close as he walks towards the exit of the store "You are so sweet. and you always cared so much about us." Ngihtmare mutters about not being sweet but relaxes with the affection.

Cross gets a ride back from Ellie and returns home to the others. He is only done for a few minutes with retelling everything as they make sure Nightmare eats his snack when they hear more sizzling.

A moment later a small package drops on their dining table.

Nightmare blinks nad opens it only to gasp.

Because that is a bright purple hoody with bat wings sewed in the back and a hood with little bat ears and a grumpy bat face on the hood.

It is adorable and Nightmare looks adorable in it and Cross has to admit it was a perfect pic. a very comfortable and cute costume for the coming outing.

Killer grumbles as he stabs his fork into his own food. He glares at his plate "Gonna have to figure out how to scare a god."

Yeah... Cross is hoenstly a little curious as to how Kilelr plans to do that. For now their babybones is happy in his new hoody and they have a very powerful ally who wants Nightmare happy like them.

*------------------*

Was this whole drabble an excuse to get Nightmare a hoody with little bat wings and bat ears? Yes. Yes it was. And he HAS one now!! :D <3

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[missdaytonawrites]

MEN & MDNI!!! 18+ content!!! dark!abs n' full fledged dub-con below the cut!!!

and as i sit here... getting all ready for bed... just cleaned my room and changed the sheeeets! also just took a shower and shaved my legsss!! i can't help but think about my very special dark!abby coming home late from work finding a very squeaky clean and pretty-smelling r! in bed and then sneaking in next to you and rubbing one out while her free hand grazes your soft skin.

AHGABSJAHBSSKJ and of course it wouldn't be dark!abs if she didnt take some of her spend and and swipe it across your lips, even in your unconsious state your lips part and you happily accept her fingers (mary, ik i would i am so orally fixated its CRIMINAL!) she would so casually roll over to spoon you while you keep her fingers in your mouth.

she absolutely cannot fall asleep until shes fucked you.. so the removal of her fingers from your mouth causes you to wake, and she just so mercilessly takes you right there. surely past the hour of 2:00 AM by now, you're not there enough to really process whats happening. just happy to see your abby, you wrap around her and let her handle her business.... i am so fucking siiiiick

you'll most likely knock out again, quite literally being fucked back to sleep while she snarls and rocks above you. before you know it, her weight drops down beside you and her arm has snaked around your waist. you barely register it,,, but she leaves you with a "good night cherry.. ✨💖😽👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩😌" and crashes herself.

just a short somethin' i'm sittin' here thinking about while i wait for my sleeping meds to kick in lol, nightie night.

[hearts-hunger]

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Taglist Form

Summary: For Josh, home is where you are. | Standalone in the Cabin Fever universe

Pairings: Josh x Wife! Reader (Josh POV) | Genres: domestic fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 3k | Warnings: a little mention of spice

A/N: I loved Josh's most recent insta caption about the stage being his ethereal living room he gets to share with us, but I also love hurt/comfort, so I made it angsty and fluffy for Josh and Baby. I hope you like it! ♡

“The stage is your ‘ethereal living room’?”

Josh looked up from the charcuterie board he was meticulously arranging to see you on your phone, presumably scrolling through the concert pictures he’d posted half an hour ago. He smiled.

“Yeah, you know.” He tapped a row of crackers into line until they were perfect. “The shows are a place where people come together to enjoy each other’s company. Somewhere that feels like home.”

You didn’t say anything. He glanced up at you again.

“Ethereal means — ”

“I know what ethereal means, Josh.” Your face went pink. “It’s just not usually a word you use to describe a living room.”

He was a little surprised at your tone; it bordered on sounding upset, but maybe that was just because he’d embarrassed you, though he certainly hadn’t meant to.

“I was just trying to help, baby,” he said gently. He tried for some humor. “And you’re right, it’s not usually a word you’d use to describe a living room. Definitely not our living room in the state it’s been in lately.”

That had the opposite of the intended effect, and he wished he could take it back when your face fell. “You don’t think it’s ready for tonight?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “It’s ready now. Everything looks great. I just meant that we haven’t been as good about tidying every night, so it’s been a wreck recently.”

“Right,” you said, but it was doubtful and tense. “Well, I tried to get most of it done while you were at work — ”

“I know, baby.” He felt that he’d botched this conversation pretty badly, but you also seemed much more sensitive than you usually were. “It was a huge help, and I’m grateful that you did most of the cleaning when we made the mess together.”

“I didn’t make it quite as ethereal as a concert, though,” you said, and your laugh was a little strained.

He wondered at your fixation on the wording of his caption, but maybe you were trying to make it into a running joke.

“The Kiszkas wouldn’t know what to do with a living room too perfect for this world,” he teased. He set the board on the other side of the island and went hunting for the wine glasses. “Could you grab me the corkscrew, honey?”

You did as he said, but there was a pensiveness to your body language that made him worry. You’d been in a great mood all day, his happy bubbly girl, spending the day shopping and tidying and preparing for the dinner party you were hosting. Jake, Sparrow, Sam, and Danny were due to arrive any time now, and Josh had thoroughly enjoyed spending time with you after work getting your home ready for your family. He didn’t know what had brought on this sudden change in mood, and he racked his brain for what could have caused it and what he could do to fix it.

“Dessert smells really good,” he said sincerely. “Did you end up putting the strawberries in there too?”

You handed him the corkscrew and stood uneasily as he opened the Riesling, toying with the sleeve of your pretty dress.

“No,” you said quietly. “It’s just regular blackberry cobbler. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

A frown tugged at his features. “I don’t,” he said. He popped the cork out.  “Of course I don’t mind. That sounds great, honey.”

“It’s not very exciting,” you said apologetically.

He didn’t know where this was going. Surely you weren’t upset about the dessert you’d made, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what you really were upset about. He decided to stick with his usual strategy, which was mostly just continuing to be sweet to you. 

“I don’t need exciting, baby,” he said, kissing your cheek. “It’ll be perfect. I can’t wait to try it.”

Working together, but without your usual quips and jokes back and forth, you and Josh put the finishing touches on dinner before the doorbell rang. Josh put his dishtowel over his shoulder and went to welcome your guests in, and he was happy that you joined him.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said. “I love that dress on you.”

You touched a hand to the neckline of your summery black dress patterned with little red cherries. “Oh, well, it’s only a sundress. But... thank you.” The usual enthusiastic enjoyment of his compliments he loved hearing was nowhere in your voice. He wished he could wait to open the door and ask what was bothering you, but the doorbell was now accompanied by rhythmic knocking the type of which only a drummer could deliver. 

“I’m telling you,” Josh said, trying one last-ditch attempt to coax a smile out of you. “This ethereal living room business — it’s better if it’s just our plain old living room with these hooligans.”

The smile you gave him was clearly only for his sake, not even reaching your eyes. Discouraged and unable to stall any longer, he turned the door handle. 

“I didn’t mean to push this on you,” you blurted. Your expression was anxious and regretful. “I’m sorry, Josh.”

By the time he’d processed what you’d said, the door was already open, and your family was coming inside full of laughter and bearing gifts of wine and appetizers and card games to play. He wanted to jump right into the festive atmosphere his brothers and sister-in-law brought with them, but he was completely preoccupied by your blurted-out apology for... what? What could you have to be sorry for? He looked across the foyer and felt his heart twist when he saw your strained smile as you welcomed your family inside.

“Alright, Kiszkas,” he said with more levity than he felt. He ushered everyone into the living room, pointing out the drinks and snacks on the kitchen island. “Eat, drink, and be merry. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

He asked Danny to watch the sauce simmering on the back of the stove, wanting to try and get a moment with you before dinner. He left Sparrow and his brothers chatting and snacking in the kitchen and found you in the dining room, double-checking the place settings you’d already made perfect an hour before.

“Baby,” he said gently. “What did you mean, you’re sorry for ‘pushing this on me’? Did you mean dinner?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I should have asked you before I planned it.”

He leaned against the doorframe. “You did ask me. Didn’t you?”

“I don’t think so,” you said sheepishly. “I think I just told you I was doing it, and you went along with it.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t mind,” he said sincerely. “I’m glad you planned it.” He debated giving you space or pressing a little deeper, and he risked the latter. He came around the table to the side where you stood.

“I’m glad we’re all spending time together,” he said. He took your hands in his. “I’d like to enjoy it with you, too, but I wouldn't be happy if you were unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy,” you lied.

“Baby,” he chided tenderly. “You’ve been out of sorts for a little bit now, and I want to help you get back into sorts. I just don’t know how.”

You looked up at him. “Are you sure you’re happy with... all this?”

He raised a brow. “Dinner? Or, like, the universe as a whole?”

You sighed. “No, I mean... do you like being home? Maybe it’s a little lackluster after touring.”

“That could not be farther from the truth,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation. Was that all that was bothering you? 

“Silly girl,” he said with a smile. “Of course I like being home. I love being home.”

“But it’s... it’s just... me,” you said lamely. “Just our house.”

“I’m still not seeing a problem,” he said, affectionately teasing. “I love you, and I love our house, especially when it has all the people we love in it drinking all our wine.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Then — “Are you sure?”

For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He felt a surprisingly sharp flash of hurt at your doubt. He tamped it down to focus on you, his sweet wife, who apparently felt that his homecoming had been spent wishing he was back out on the road.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he finally said. He cupped your face in his hands, reading something sad and needful in your expression but unable to figure out how to fix it. “I love being home with you, baby. I miss you so much when I’m away. You don’t know that?”

He saw your eyes sparkle with tears and wished desperately he could understand how it had gotten this bad, wished he could figure out how to fix it.

“Hey,” he said softly. He kissed you. “I love you. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“But it’s not — ”

“It’s perfect,” he said, gently cutting across your protest. “And though I love the way you open our home to our family, even just being with you, eating takeout in our pajamas, would have been perfect too.”

You gave him a watery smile at that, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“There’s that smile,” he said tenderly. He brushed the tears from your face. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, baby. You're everything to me. You’re my heart. You know that, don’t you?”

You nodded and kissed him, and he was so happy to have helped even a little. He’d probably ask about it again, try to understand what had made you think such a thing so that you'd never have to think it again. For now, though, your family was waiting, and you seemed eager now to get back to them.

“Don't tell them I was crying,” you said, running your hands over your cheeks, trying to hide the telltale signs. “Tell them we were having a quickie or something.”

He chuckled. “I'm not sure I’m skilled enough for that to be believable, baby. Less than five minutes is a lot to ask.” He kissed your cheek. “And I won’t tell them you were crying. That’s between you and me.” To his way of thinking, a husband's job was to protect his wife at her most vulnerable, not to expose her. These moments between you, the words and soft touches and intimacy you shared — those were just for the two of you, and Josh treasured the privilege of being the one you shared yourself with when you needed a little extra love.

You took his hand, and when he was sure you were ready, he led you back out to where your family waited. 

He saw you return to your usual self as the night went on, and he loved to hear your laugh and watch your smile light up your face as you spent time with your family. Sam, Danny, Jake, and Sparrow — they never failed to bring warmth and light with them wherever they went, and Josh knew that there was no better medicine than their terrible jokes and affectionate bickering and safe, easy love. You were always beautiful, but joy made you ravishing; you shone as brightly as the sun when you were happy, and he felt a weight come off his shoulders as you came back to yourself.

After dinner, you found a spot on the couch; as Josh went to fix glasses of wine for both of you, he watched the drama unfolding in the living room. Catty corner to you, Sam and Jake were playing guitar, Sam casually and Jake with characteristic seriousness; Sparrow sat perched on the arm of Sam’s chair, and Danny sat on the floor.

“Watch him,” Danny said, slipping a hair tie from his wrist and aiming it like a slingshot at Jake. “I bet he won’t stop playing.”

“No, Danny!” Sparrow giggled around the straw stuck in her wine glass. “That would be so mean to my poor Jakey.”

“He wont’ even notice,” Danny said, unable to hide an impish smile. “Watch.”

He shot the hair tie at Jake, and it popped him on the forehead before tumbling down the guitar and landing on the floor. Jake didn’t miss a beat.

Danny and Sparrow dissolved in uproarious laughter, and Jake merely rolled his eyes with a telltale smile.

“You’re all idiots,” he said.

“Not me!” Sam protested. He watched Jake’s fingers, invested in learning the tune now. “I’m trying to play with you, but geez, can you dial it down from rock god so I can figure it out?”

Jake slowed his playing, talking Sam through the notes, and good-naturedly accepted a kiss on his forehead from Sparrow. Danny tried to find the hair tie again and hit Sam with it when he did, earning himself a nudge with Sam’s foot that made Danny laugh and lean his head against Sam’s knee in apology.

Josh brought your drinks over to the couch and handed yours to you. “For you, baby.”

You accepted it gratefully and patted the spot next to you. “Thanks, honey. Come sit with me.”

He did, draping one arm over the back of the couch behind you, pleased when you scooched closer to him. He gave you a sweet, chaste kiss.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked gently.

You couldn’t help a dull blush, but you gave him a bashful smile. “Yes. I’m sorry I was so... tearful earlier.”

“That’s alright, honey. Would you mind telling me what it was that got you so upset?”

You ran the pad of your thumb over the bottom of your wineglass. He was patient as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.

“It’s silly,” you said finally. “You’ll either laugh or be annoyed that I made such a big deal about it.”

He considered that. You usually took things in your stride, and neither of you made a habit of being offended or upset over trivial, accidental things. Whatever it was, it had hurt you, and he would validate that feeling no matter what it turned out to be.

“I promise I won’t laugh,” he said. “And I don't think I’ll be annoyed.” He really just wanted to know what it was, and he told you so.

Your nervous, wandering fingers found his, and he was content to let you play with his wedding ring. You brushed your thumb over the shiny gold surface.

“It was your caption,” you said. “You know, for those pictures you posted.”

He was bemused for a moment. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah,” you admitted quietly. “There’s no greater feeling in the world than returning to the stage. It is my ethereal living room. A place where things feel lighter than air. I love you.”

If anyone had asked him to recite from memory the caption he’d written himself, he couldn't have done it. The fact that you knew it word for word told him you must have been saying it over and over again in your head since you’d read it.

He thought of the wording in light of your feelings and saw how it could have hurt you. It had been their first show back after a long break spent at home, and while you were in your plain old living room at home and missing him, he’d apparently been away in a much better living room doing much more exciting and wonderful things without you. Of course he hadn’t really been comparing a concert to the home he shared with you — it was only an Instagram caption, after all, and not a serious commentary on his life. But even though he felt it was reasonable for you to have known that, he also knew that sometimes the heart wasn’t reasonable.

He twined his fingers with yours. “Sweet baby,” he said. “I’m sorry it hurt you. It wasn’t my intention at all. I don’t know if it helps, but I wasn’t thinking about our real life living room when I wrote that. I just thought it sounded clever.”

“I know,” you said. You gave him a wobbly smile. “It was clever. It’s sweet. And the fans deserve a little love note from you. I just...”

“You just missed me,” he said, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “I know, baby. I missed you too.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of it. I could have just been honest that I was upset. But really, I should have just taken it like you meant it and not started catastrophizing, thinking you weren’t happy at home.”

“Well, sometimes our imaginations run away with us,” he said, patient and kind. “For the record, I am happy at home with you, baby. You in your old sundress making regular blackberry cobbler is the kind of thing I dream about when I'm away from you. And if I could only have one, I’d pick our less-than-ethereal living room and be glad to share it with you for as long as I lived.”

You touched his cheek. “Why are you so sweet to me?”

“Because I love you very much,” he said simply. He kissed you. “Tell me you know that.”

“I know that,” you said softly, tenderly. “Of course I know that. I love you very much too.”

He kissed you again, taking his time, drawing you closer to him. You tasted like sweet wine and sounded so pretty when your breath caught, your fingers brushing through his curls, your heartbeat light and fast under his hands, almost ethereal.

From the other side of the living room, there was a vague commotion and contagious laughter from Sparrow and his brothers. 

“Should we check on them?” you asked, your voice muffled and smiley as you kissed him.

He chuckled. “They’re fine. Hush and let me kiss you.”

You did, and when you threw your arms around his neck to pull him even closer, he decided you weren’t ethereal after all. The two of you together, surrounded by the ones you loved, laughter and joy and music filling your home — it was something better than ethereal, something earthy and imperfect and steady. For all he loved his work, this right here was exactly what he wanted.

“I love you, Mrs. Kiszka,” he said gently.

You smiled and set everything right in his world. “I love you too, Joshy.”

@wideminded-dreamer and @spark-my-nature were particularly excited for this one so hey here you go <3

[whywishesarehorses]

She said, why yes I will immediately roll in the mud thanks so much