honeysghost

[honeysghost]

If I don’t get a Porter/Darlin interaction soon I fear I may combust

[honeysghost]

literally everytime darlin texts the group chat

[honeysghost]

Oh yeah, and as an apology for bein’ neglectful — have a new, loosely based, 1920’s era Milo drawin’ (I’ll post normal things later, first Milo)

This is his reg one but then I had caffeine and lost myself, creating the monstrosity under here

He’s okay lookin’, jus feel like I did a lil too much ^^

I rlly like his hand details here tho so—

I hope you like it ??

[honeysghost]

Werewolves naturally live longer than humans - the magic enhances their body to be stronger and endure more.

Asher knew this.

He knew that he’d one day outlive Babe.

But nothing could prepare him for the day it actually happened.

Babe, his beautiful, stubborn Babe, insisted that they spend the last day of their life at home. They didn’t want to be surrounded by those cold, lifeless walls of the hospital anymore, saying it killed them more than time did. (Asher couldn’t bring himself to laugh at the joke)

They lay in his lap, like they always liked doing. Asher made sure they were comfortable before settling in against the cushions of the couch. He ran his hand through their hair, gently massaging their scalp. Babe closed their eyes at the feeling, and Asher hated how he felt his core flare in panic, the fear that he might never see their beautiful eyes again overwhelming him. Their satisfied hum and the slow rise and fall of their chest were the only things stopping him from breaking the moment to wake them up.

Babe whispered with the last ounce of their strength. Asher immediately leaned his ear down, not wanting to miss a single word they said.

“Can you…. cuddle with me? Like you always do. I love being in your arms.”

Asher almost cried there and then.

“Of course, Babe. You know my arms are always yours.” He winked, desperately trying not to let his emotions slip. He didn’t want their last memory of him being him crying. That wasn’t him.

Babe could tell he was trying to hide his tears. The hand they held against his cheek was enough to tell they understood. Asher held their hand, pressing a kiss to their palm, before gently shifting them both so that he spooned them, lying back onto the couch. They settled against him, a hand guiding his arms to wrap around their waist. Asher buried his face into the crook of their neck, breathing in their scent, eyes closing to focus on the rise and fall of their body as they breathed. He couldn’t help but let a few tears escape, falling onto their hair.

Babe wriggled and turned around in his arms, hearing him sniffle. They reached a shaking, delicate hand to his cheek and wiped his tears away with their thumb, and Asher leaned into their touch.

“I love you.” It was barely a whisper. For a moment, Asher saw the memory of them a few decades ago, when they’d cuddle on the couch just like they were doing now, and they’d have a tender, quiet moment to themselves. Babe would have their hand grabbing his shirt, like they did now, and Asher loved how they’d always want to be close to him, even when half asleep.

Asher felt his breath catch in his chest.

He leaned down, capturing their soft lips in a gentle, slow kiss. When they parted, he saw their face melt into a smile. “You always have that effect on me.” They used to always say. He felt his own face reflect theirs, and he leaned down once more, pressing his forehead against theirs and nuzzling their noses together.

They passed in their sleep that night, lying in Asher’s arms. He couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep, afraid of missing any moment with them.

At 3am he felt his stomach drop. His whole body went cold, and he felt a hole open in his heart. His mating bond was severed, with no beating heart to reach out to.

He broke down into a sob.

He’d never cried this much in his life.

Asher buried his face in their hair and hugged them tight, desperate for this all to be a nightmare he could wake up from.

The tears flowing couldn’t stop anymore, and he felt like he was dying himself with the way his mate’s body started losing its warmth.

He had them in his arms, yet they slipped away.

Babe’s hand still gripped his shirt.

The pack had never seen Asher so quiet.

He had bags under his eyes, puffy and red from crying. The beta that always has a smile on his face and lit up the room with his laugh was gone.

David was the first to know. He brought Asher into a hug, gripping him tight in a silent moment of comfort. He had lost Angel a few months before, so he knew how it felt.

No one ever saw that spark in Asher’s eyes again.

The night Asher felt his own life start to slip, he settled himself on the couch and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and hugged a pillow to his chest, imagining that it was his mate. His mind flashed back to moments where they’d cuddle while watching him play games, giggling when he whooped in victory. He felt his face melt into a smile at the memory, the melody of their laugh still vivid in his mind like his favourite song.

“I love you, Babe.” He breathed out in a long sigh.

Those were his last words.

It was like he fell into a peaceful sleep, settled in the soft pillows of their bed.

The sun shone through the slip of the curtains, kissing him awake with its warmth.

Except it wasn’t the sun.

Asher’s eyes shot open. He was met with the beaming smile of his mate, giggling at his shocked expression. They peppered more kisses onto his face like they always did.

His body felt light. His heart was full.

His core instinctively reached out and he sobbed to feel their heart reach back.

Babe smiled and gathered him into their arms, letting him cry into their chest.

“You’re home now.”

Asher’s hands gripped at their shirt.

[honeysghost]

milo greer what are you doing in date everything

[honeysghost]

“Honey, you know I can do this myself, right?”

“Shshhh, shush.” Asher pressed a finger to Baaabe’s lips, earning a chuckle from them.

“I missed you, babe. Let me have this.”

Baaaabe rolled their eyes playfully, allowing Asher to continue his dedicated work. His hands worked so tenderly on their hair, a stark contrast from the rough grip in the shower just minutes ago.

“I was only gone for three days, Ash.”

“Yeah and that was three whole days that I didn’t get to see you.”

He held their cheeks in his hands, setting aside the towel for a moment.

“I didn’t get to see this pretty face next to me in the morning.”

He pressed a kiss to their forehead.

“I didn’t get to bother you in person.”

A kiss to the tip of their nose.

“I didn’t get to hold you in my arms, like this.”

A long, yearning kiss to the lips, followed by him wrapping his arms around them.

“I missed you, Babe. I always do.”

They sunk their face into his shoulder, breathing in his woody scent. He smelled so warm, like comfort and security. He smelt like home to them.

“I missed you too, Ash. Let’s get Max’s tomorrow and just chill with each other, yeah?”

Ash pulled away from them, a smile plastered on his face.

“Babe, you’re the best!”

——————————————————————————-

A/N: I’m on vacation, so I only have a couple of fics written lel

[honeysghost]

small comforts

Pairing: Guy/Honey

Word count: 1,157

The AO3 version, if you prefer: small comforts - honeysghost

I wrote this while delirious from a fever so my credentials for comfort needs are there, trust 🤞🏼 (also if there's spelling errors please ignore them <3)

“You feelin’ okay?”

Honey groans into their pillow, exhausted from a long night of tossing and turning. 

“Everything hurts,�� they whine. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.” 

Even Guy, who could sleep through an earthquake, woke up a few times due to their restlessness. He’d chalked it up to a stressful day’s lingering tension in the moment, but in the morning light, just looking at them was enough to tell they felt like shit. 

“Aw, I’m sorry, Honey. Here, let me get you some water.” He slides to the edge of the bed, laughing softly when they protest, reaching out with both hands for him to come back.

“Don’t leave yet,” they pout.

The soft, clingy side of Honey was a rare sight that only came out when they were sick, tired, or stressed out. It pained Guy to see them in any of those states, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cute to see how needy they got every once in a while. 

“I’ll just be a minute, I promise.” He reaches back across the bed, leaning in to plant a kiss on their forehead but stops short. 

“Shit, Honey. I can feel the heat coming off of you from here.” 

He presses his hand against their head to confirm the fever and sighs, resuming his mission to get water. 

They don’t protest this time, instead choosing to sink further into their pillow as they wave him away with a muffled, “Hurry back.” 

When Guy returns, he has a mountain of things held tightly in his arms. If every inch of their body wasn’t aching profusely, they’d laugh at the sight. 

“I’m a little sick, not dying,” they chide, shakily pulling themselves upright. 

“Since when are you against being prepared, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at them and they roll their eyes, biting back a smile.

“You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who wants to role-play as your nurse.”

“Did you have to make it weird?” 

“Yes. Now, hush and let me take care of you, okay?”

One by one, he sets his collection of things down on their bedside table. A bottle of Advil, their water bottle, tea in their favorite mug, a granola bar, and a wet cloth. Part of them felt guilty for teasing him about it.

“Open,” Guy mumbles, holding two pills to their lips.

They oblige, grateful for both the medicine and the water that followed. Along with the body aches, their throat was dry and scratchy as well. It was a miserable combination. Of course, no one liked being sick, but Honey hated it most of all. 

After a few more sips of water and one bite of the granola bar, Guy sits down on the bed beside them. “What else can I do, Honey?” 

“Can you close the curtains? My head is killing me.” 

Dutifully, Guy does as they ask. He even takes a spare blanket and positions it over the curtains, so the gaps of sunlight don’t bother them anymore.

When he returns to their side, they look a little more peaceful. He raises a hand to their cheek, smiling when they nuzzle into the touch, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Thank you, baby.” 

There’s a chill that creeps up his spine when they call him baby. 

With his free hand, he feels around for the wet cloth he brought in. 

“Do you want me to rub your face, or do you want to do it?” 

“Can you do it, please?”

“Of course,” Guy sighs, trailing a finger down the length of their nose first. 

They’d never admit to it, but they loved when he did that. When they first started dating, after he thought they’d fallen asleep, Guy would spend what felt like an eternity trailing his fingers down their forehead, down their nose, over and over until he fell asleep himself. The feather-light touch would almost always put them to sleep immediately, like it was its own kind of magic.

In the now dark bedroom, the only thing Honey can focus on is the way Guy holds their face while he presses the wet cloth to their forehead. It feels like heaven.

His thumb rubs soothing circles against their cheek, occasionally wiping away any stray drops of water that might’ve seeped from the fabric. The cold feels good, though. 

Guy, despite his quirks, is an excellent caretaker. He knows when to tone it down and just be there for them, knows when to sneak in a joke to make them smile—he’s loving and attentive, and Honey in eternally thankful for it.

“Is this okay?” He asks, breaking the silence.

Honey nods, eyes closed contentedly. “It feels so good, baby. Thank you.” 

There’s a chill that creeps up his spine when they call him baby. Guy loves when they’re soft like this; it’s just a shame it comes at the cost of being sick. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to their cheek. 

They scrunch up their nose, peaking one eye open to glare half-heartedly at him. “Don’t kiss me, you’ll get sick.”

“It was only your cheek, Honey. I think I’ll live.” 

Their fingers curl around his wrist, bringing his hand down from where he holds the cloth. Even sick, they still look at him with such intensity. It makes him squirm sometimes. 

“Can you just lay with me for a while?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

He sets the cloth down before laying down beside them, laughing at the way they waste no time curling up against him, weaving their limbs together and pressing their head to his chest.

For someone who was chastising him for kissing them a moment ago, they don’t seem to mind the closeness at all now. He kisses the top of their head this time, smiling softly when they sigh, trying hard to get closer than their bodies will allow.

“Are you feeling any better?” 

Honey nods slowly. “I think the Advil is starting to kick in.”

“Good, good.”

A wave of comfortable silence fills the room as Honey listens to Guy’s heartbeat, his steady breathing acting as the perfect background noise to let them relax fully.

“Is there anything else I can do?” He whispers, voice low against their ear.

“No, this is enough.” 

It’s quiet again for a moment as Honey soaks in the warmth of Guy’s body pressed close to theirs. Even with the fever beginning to break, the chills that accompanied it still wracked their body.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” they say, speech starting to slow as they started to give in to the exhaustion.

“I’m happy to do it.” 

They hum in response, kissing his shoulder softly. 

“I might not always show it, but I’m really grateful you’re here. I love you, Guy. So much.”

“I love you, too. Now go to sleep,” he begs. “I’ll make you soup when you wake up.”

[honeysghost]

When David comforts Angel, he knows they value physical touch. So not only does he gather them in his arms straddling his lap, he also does that thing where he places a large hand on the back of their head and gently holds them closer to him, the other arm around their waist. Angel buries their face in the crook of his neck and takes a deep breath, closing their eyes and feeling the way David’s warmth is all around them, just the way they like it.

[honeysghost]

small comforts

Pairing: Guy/Honey

Word count: 1,157

The AO3 version, if you prefer: small comforts - honeysghost

I wrote this while delirious from a fever so my credentials for comfort needs are there, trust 🤞🏼 (also if there's spelling errors please ignore them <3)

“You feelin’ okay?”

Honey groans into their pillow, exhausted from a long night of tossing and turning. 

“Everything hurts,” they whine. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.” 

Even Guy, who could sleep through an earthquake, woke up a few times due to their restlessness. He’d chalked it up to a stressful day’s lingering tension in the moment, but in the morning light, just looking at them was enough to tell they felt like shit. 

“Aw, I’m sorry, Honey. Here, let me get you some water.” He slides to the edge of the bed, laughing softly when they protest, reaching out with both hands for him to come back.

“Don’t leave yet,” they pout.

The soft, clingy side of Honey was a rare sight that only came out when they were sick, tired, or stressed out. It pained Guy to see them in any of those states, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cute to see how needy they got every once in a while. 

“I’ll just be a minute, I promise.” He reaches back across the bed, leaning in to plant a kiss on their forehead but stops short. 

“Shit, Honey. I can feel the heat coming off of you from here.” 

He presses his hand against their head to confirm the fever and sighs, resuming his mission to get water. 

They don’t protest this time, instead choosing to sink further into their pillow as they wave him away with a muffled, “Hurry back.” 

When Guy returns, he has a mountain of things held tightly in his arms. If every inch of their body wasn’t aching profusely, they’d laugh at the sight. 

“I’m a little sick, not dying,” they chide, shakily pulling themselves upright. 

“Since when are you against being prepared, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at them and they roll their eyes, biting back a smile.

“You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who wants to role-play as your nurse.”

“Did you have to make it weird?” 

“Yes. Now, hush and let me take care of you, okay?”

One by one, he sets his collection of things down on their bedside table. A bottle of Advil, their water bottle, tea in their favorite mug, a granola bar, and a wet cloth. Part of them felt guilty for teasing him about it.

“Open,” Guy mumbles, holding two pills to their lips.

They oblige, grateful for both the medicine and the water that followed. Along with the body aches, their throat was dry and scratchy as well. It was a miserable combination. Of course, no one liked being sick, but Honey hated it most of all. 

After a few more sips of water and one bite of the granola bar, Guy sits down on the bed beside them. “What else can I do, Honey?” 

“Can you close the curtains? My head is killing me.” 

Dutifully, Guy does as they ask. He even takes a spare blanket and positions it over the curtains, so the gaps of sunlight don’t bother them anymore.

When he returns to their side, they look a little more peaceful. He raises a hand to their cheek, smiling when they nuzzle into the touch, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Thank you, baby.” 

There’s a chill that creeps up his spine when they call him baby. 

With his free hand, he feels around for the wet cloth he brought in. 

“Do you want me to rub your face, or do you want to do it?” 

“Can you do it, please?”

“Of course,” Guy sighs, trailing a finger down the length of their nose first. 

They’d never admit to it, but they loved when he did that. When they first started dating, after he thought they’d fallen asleep, Guy would spend what felt like an eternity trailing his fingers down their forehead, down their nose, over and over until he fell asleep himself. The feather-light touch would almost always put them to sleep immediately, like it was its own kind of magic.

In the now dark bedroom, the only thing Honey can focus on is the way Guy holds their face while he presses the wet cloth to their forehead. It feels like heaven.

His thumb rubs soothing circles against their cheek, occasionally wiping away any stray drops of water that might’ve seeped from the fabric. The cold feels good, though. 

Guy, despite his quirks, is an excellent caretaker. He knows when to tone it down and just be there for them, knows when to sneak in a joke to make them smile—he’s loving and attentive, and Honey in eternally thankful for it.

“Is this okay?” He asks, breaking the silence.

Honey nods, eyes closed contentedly. “It feels so good, baby. Thank you.” 

There’s a chill that creeps up his spine when they call him baby. Guy loves when they’re soft like this; it’s just a shame it comes at the cost of being sick. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to their cheek. 

They scrunch up their nose, peaking one eye open to glare half-heartedly at him. “Don’t kiss me, you’ll get sick.”

“It was only your cheek, Honey. I think I’ll live.” 

Their fingers curl around his wrist, bringing his hand down from where he holds the cloth. Even sick, they still look at him with such intensity. It makes him squirm sometimes. 

“Can you just lay with me for a while?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

He sets the cloth down before laying down beside them, laughing at the way they waste no time curling up against him, weaving their limbs together and pressing their head to his chest.

For someone who was chastising him for kissing them a moment ago, they don’t seem to mind the closeness at all now. He kisses the top of their head this time, smiling softly when they sigh, trying hard to get closer than their bodies will allow.

“Are you feeling any better?” 

Honey nods slowly. “I think the Advil is starting to kick in.”

“Good, good.”

A wave of comfortable silence fills the room as Honey listens to Guy’s heartbeat, his steady breathing acting as the perfect background noise to let them relax fully.

“Is there anything else I can do?” He whispers, voice low against their ear.

“No, this is enough.” 

It’s quiet again for a moment as Honey soaks in the warmth of Guy’s body pressed close to theirs. Even with the fever beginning to break, the chills that accompanied it still wracked their body.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” they say, speech starting to slow as they started to give in to the exhaustion.

“I’m happy to do it.” 

They hum in response, kissing his shoulder softly. 

“I might not always show it, but I’m really grateful you’re here. I love you, Guy. So much.”

“I love you, too. Now go to sleep,” he begs. “I’ll make you soup when you wake up.”

[honeysghost]

can i interest anyone in a guy/honey sick comfort fic? coming soon to a semi-dead blog near you

[honeysghost]

"darlin' in sam's flannels" "darlin' in sam's cowboy hat" okay but sam in darlin's jacket. sam in darlin's old and rugged cropped tshirts. many such cases

[honeysghost]

more listeners designs!

[honeysghost]

Despite all the reasons for a vampire to hate summer, Darlin’ is determined to make it an enjoyable season for Sam no matter what. 

They bring him to the beach right after sunset, so the sand is still warm from the day’s sun, relishing in the blissful smile that rests on his lips as he digs his feet in, soaking up every bit of warmth he can before the night’s chill starts to sink in. The sound of crashing waves against the shore and the notable lack of people around is enough to visibly relax him.

On weekends, they take Sam’s truck to the Drive-In with a mattress in the back. They curl up together, munching on snacks while some cheesy horror movie plays on the big screen. It’s really not scary, but Darlin’ still jumps occasionally, smacking Sam’s shoulder when he laughs at them. They also get eaten alive by mosquitos, and he laughs at them for that, too. 

There are carnivals, although Sam complains frequently about how many people are there and how overpriced the food is. Still, there’s peace to be found in looking out over the city from the top of the Ferris wheel.

Sure, the days seem to last forever, but that doesn't mean they have to be housebound until winter. He's free from William and his dreadful real estate business, and that means there's more time to spend with his Darlin', soaking up the remains of the day and pretending to be like any other couple, if only for a few precious moments.

[honeysghost]

nsfw !

lovely putting their hands on vincent's chest, pushing him into the car seat, straddling his lap.

lovely taking vincent's chin in between their fingers, tilting his head up at the most perfect angle, so their lips fit together seamlessly.

vincent's breathing growing ragged, his pulse picking up, his body erupting into goosebumps at just the low-lidded look lovely is giving him.

their fingers sliding past his temples, into the wild mess of his hair, holding his head firmly in place. the gleam of the whites of vincent's eyes, unable to blink for fear of missing out on the deity on his lap.

slowly, so slowly, lovely lowering their mouth to his. a chaste kiss at first, gentle, almost innocent.

and then their tongue, brushing against his like fire. electricity sizzling between their lips, locked together so hard it feels like suffocating. vincent's breaths are shaky, shuddering, as lovely tastes him like they're drinking from the deepest wine.

their hips are moving on his, sending an ecstatic shock through his body. his brain is foggy, desperation growing, his hands moving on their own and seeking more. lovely's whimpers fill vincent's mouth, and he swears he can taste them.

vincent's mind blows blank when lovely traces their tongue against his fang and pushes. no thoughts, just pure fucking desire. he has to pull away before he slams them against the car door and fucks their brains out.

"don't fucking-- holy shit--" his voice is raspy, graveled with lust, and shaking. he can't keep his hands off them, though, his immortal fingers fisting in their clothes.

he's fighting ferality, fighting the beast in his blood that screams to pin them down and devour.

lovely looks at him, dark eyes and darker desire. their voice is liquid and mesmerizing when they say, "don't hold back. i want it."

the car rattles and fills with the coppery scent of blood, the lush smells of sex, as vincent worships what is his.

[honeysghost]

Words cannot describe how underrated Aaron is. I love him. He's like, top five

[honeysghost]

"we want more complicated characters"

yall couldnt even handle porter

[honeysghost]

still choosing to ignore the end to project meridian btw