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[hearts-hunger]

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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

[kits-ships]

selfshiptober day #2 - blanket :3

i like to think ione is an overly-affectionate drunk <3

[jackals-ships]

pov you're Solas and you're discovering you are NOT immune to The Herald's Sad Eyes

taglist + fun concept under the cut;

@dearhartselfships @one-winged-dreams @hoppinkiss @multyshipping @derelictdumbass @seahydra @sunstar-of-the-north

[distant-velleity]

i made a really low effort one again

[cherubdulce]

I know the holidays are over but I wanted to finish my festive sunflower soup drawing and experiment on my lineless style U_U

[ruvviks]

vitali my best friend vitali

[edgepunk]

Gif/Edit Taglist

I thought I'd update my taglist because, no offense, I'm picky with what I post and I won't reblog things I have no interest in. I will link this taglist into my pinned post. I will keep updating this list later on and reblog it.

Note: You don't have to ask me to tag me in any of these, just go ahead I wanna see your creations c:

What I WANT TO be tagged in:

Bully/Canis Canem Edit

Cyberpunk 2077

Dead Space

Fallout

Ghost of Tsushima

God of War

Hades

Horizon: Zero Dawn and Forbidden West

Indie games (can be anything, I'm always interested in checking out new indies)

Marvel’s Spider-Man

Mass Effect + Andromeda

Pathologic

pre-Odyssey Assassin’s Creed games

Ratchet and Clank

Red Dead Redemption

Resident Evil

Star Wars Games (except the Lego ones)

The Elder Scrolls

The Legend of Zelda

The Witcher (games and books only)

The Wolf Among Us

Tomb Raider

What I DON'T WANT TO be tagged in:

Baldur's Gate 3 (I simply have no interest in it and the fandom scares me)

Dragon Age (same as above)

Gacha Games

Harry Potter

The Last Of Us (Here's a post about the zionism present in the franchise)

The Witcher Netflix

[tteokdoroki]

queue is updated adios until next Tuesday

[theheroand]

save me anime girl!

Reblogs appreciated! Suzu (left) uses she/her! S/I (right) uses they/them!

[suhnshinehaos]

hey babes so uhh

been having a terrible horrible no good very bad week that all started when my laptop for some reason just… stopped…. working ?? and it kinda snowballed from there and my mental health is 📉📉📉 atm sighh so apologies for not getting around to updates like i said i would,,, i’ll try my hardest to get something up by the end of this week :(((

im really sorry and always remember

- reese <3

[flightlessangelwings]

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More relevant tags below 👇

[jackals-ships]

realizing you didn't factor "falling in love with some little freak" into your plan but like. how the FUCK were you supposed to prepare for that

taglist; @one-winged-dreams @hoppinkiss @seahydra @multyshipping @derelictdumbass @dearhartselfships @sunstar-of-the-north

[saturdays--sun]

"i sleep better in your bed"

↪ ship: ocean eyes / saturday ↪ content: ~990 words. written with a prompt from here. nauseatingly soft <3

i wrote this last february and i still think about it and start crying every day. i love him i love him i love him

it was rare that she woke up before him.

yet when her eyes fluttered open, his were still shut.

from where she lay, held close to his chest, she could feel the soft and steady rhythm of his heart; the even cadence of his breathing. he was still deep in sleep, his face still and peaceful.

pretty, was the first word that came to mind.

for a moment, all she did was watch him, her eyes softening as they traced over his features; as the sunlight slipping in through her blinds shone softly on his skin. a faint smile ghosted across her lips; and with a careful hand, she reached up to brush his hair out of his face.

he stirred, but just slightly — just enough to make her hand momentarily draw back; just enough to make her hold her breath. when he settled back down, shifting his head against her pillow and tightening his hold on her, she let her arm drape loosely over his neck; let her fingertips gently thread through his hair.

perfect, was the second word that came to mind.

she lost track of how long she laid there, with her fingers tangled softly in his hair and her eyes transfixed on his sleeping features. long enough that the sun shifted its position outside her window; long enough that her own eyes had begun to slip shut again, the sleep she had just come out of creeping back into the corners of her mind.

another gentle movement made her eyes sleepily open once more; and when they did, they were met with his — bleary and just barely opened; only enough that she could see the color in them. the same ghost of a smile returned to her lips as she gazed up at him, affection seeping gently into her expression.

"morning." her voice was quiet when she spoke — little more than a whisper meant solely for his ears. "i didn't wake you up, did i?"

he blinked slowly — once, then twice — before making a small motion like he was shaking his head. "no, you didn't." sleep colored his voice; left it lower and rougher than normal, her heart skipping a soft beat at the sound. leaning down to her — languidly, as if he were still half asleep — he pressed his lips to her forehead; let them linger there as he murmured a soft, "...good morning, dear."

an inaudible giggle bubbled up in her chest, the soft smile on her lips pulling itself a little wider. "are you still tired?" she didn't really need to ask, but the question came out anyway — soft and gentle, her tone filled with nothing other than endearment. "we can go back to sleep if you want."

a pause followed her offer; she felt his mouth open slightly and then close once more. finally, his voice hit her ears again — this time, with the smallest hint of hesitation hidden amongst its sleepy tone. "...would that be alright with you?"

green eyes softened further; gentle fingers brushed through the strands of his hair again, her fingertips just barely ghosting across the nape of his neck. "of course it would be." carefully, so as to not jar him, she shifted her position slightly; and once she had settled again, her back against her pillows, she nudged him forward to her with a soft, "c'mere."

with no resistance, he leaned his body into hers, arms wrapping themselves back around her waist and his face nuzzling comfortably into the crook of her neck. when her own arms looped gently around him, her fingers taking up their previous position in his hair, a long, content sigh escaped his nose against her neck; beneath her touch, she felt the muscles of his shoulders relax.

cute, floated up from somewhere in the back of her mind.

"you're not normally this groggy." she didn't mean anything by it when she murmured the words to him, her fingers threading through his hair in a steady rhythm. it was nothing more than an observation — on the rare occasion that he woke up after her, he wasn't usually falling back asleep so soon afterwards; if anything, it was normally her that was in his position. "were you really tired last night?"

a hum hit her skin; sent a soft tingle throughout her body. "not particularly." he shifted a little closer to her; in response to the movement, her free hand pulled the blanket higher up over them. "...i just sleep better in your bed."

her eyes blinked softly, something like surprise flickering through her irises. a moment later, the surprise faded and gave way to something significantly softer, a faint shade of pink dusting across her cheeks. "...you do?"

"mhm." the sound came out as little more than a relaxed exhale. his face nuzzled softly against the crook of her neck, sleepily mumbled words gently hitting her ears. "...it smells like you. and..." a kiss was pressed onto her skin; lingered, just like the first one. "...you're in it."

distantly, she wondered if he could feel the way her heart skipped a beat.

in any other circumstance, she probably would have teased him — called him cheesy or corny or just cute — to hide how the inside of her chest had grown warm and how her lips were turning upward into a smile again. but in this one, she simply let it be — let the happiness seep into her veins and gently fill the rest of her body with its golden glow. her fingers stalled in his hair; her head turned itself just enough to leave a loving kiss on his temple.

"i'm glad," she murmured into his hair, her eyes slipping softly shut. as if his tiredness was contagious — or maybe just because she was so at peace — sleep started creeping in from the corners of her mind again. "...i sleep better with you in my bed, too."

i wish you would sleep in it every night.

♡ taglist: @strawberrisoulmate / @space-sweetheart / @destinyknotz / @dmclr

[cherubdulce]

decided to give Bambi an alt. outfit :)

self insert uses he/him

[ruvviks]

quick sketch but this is ulysses' mom btw :] she doesn't have a name yet but i'll give her one soon i promise

[frozenhi-chews]

I might not post all of em yet, but these two still get me. They're so cute, so sweet, so domestic. And they make me smile every time I see them!!

Waking up and saying hello to your beloved in the morning, sharing your love and adoration of something you enjoy (I REALLY like snowglobes irl). Its just so sweet