mouth hug

  • Stiles: you didn't think you were doing this without me, did ya?
  • Derek: without us.
  • Lydia: [walking towards Stiles angrily] Mieczyslaw Stilinski how dare you? I specifically wanted to keep you out of this. [to Derek] hey how are you? [To Stiles] are you here to die? Well I for sure will kill you.
  • Stiles: [puts hand on Lydia's mouth and then hugs her tightly] I missed you too.
We didn’t just wake up touching this time

Neil is curled up in bed next to Andrew, skating the edge of sleep after an exhaustive practice and the powerful drowsiness that came after Andrew sucked him off once they’d crawled into Andrew’s bed. Andrew is contemplating a cigarette, but that means crawling over Neil, which sounds like effort. So Andrew stares at Neil instead, at the way Neil’s arms slowly wrap around himself as he turns his face into his pillow.

“Why do you always do that?” He asks idly, and he hadn’t realized just how close Neil was to nodding off until Neil jolts back to wakefulness and turns his head slightly to eye Andrew in the near-dark.

“What?”

“You hold yourself when you fall asleep,” Andrew clarifies. He doesn’t repeat his question, but it hangs there between them, and the longer it’s there, the weightier it feels, because Neil not only doesn’t answer but stops breathing for a few seconds.

Andrew waits patiently and considers his pack of cigarettes on the desk again, now that Neil is awake and would move a bit to let him out of bed easier.

Neil’s arms finally tighten around himself. “Don’t laugh.”

Keep reading

John and Sherlock decide to take Rosie on a trip to the Holmes parents’ cottage and John is privately nervous at Rosie’s reaction.

But when they arrive, it’s clear there was nothing to worry about. Rosie is in raptures from the first moment, running about the garden while Sherlock’s father chases after her.

And then they all head inside, and Sherlock’s mother explains that they brought all of Mycroft and Sherlock’s old toys out of the loft, all spruced up and ready for Rosie to play with.

And it’s so wonderful to watch as John realises how loved Sherlock was as a child, and now, as Sherlock leans against the kitchen counter top, as relaxed as he’s ever been, pinching biscuits from a jar until his mother notices and jokingly swats him with a tea towel.

It’s all so beautifully natural and John’s heart aches with it. He hears Rosie giggling as Sherlock’s father shows her how to play Mouse Trap; Sherlock and his mother’s easy conversation:

“Is Myc not coming round, Sherlock?”

“Are you deliberately calling him that now just to piss h-um-annoy him? Think he’s with the foreign secretary, I don’t know.”

“Excellent, I can Skype call him again, he never answers his phone.”

“Oh my god, I thought he was joking when he said you-”

And all of a sudden the ache in John’s heart tightens and he slips out for some fresh air. He thought he had been practically silent but Sherlock is soon right behind him.

“Are you alright? Is there-did I do something wrong?”

And John’s eyes well up at the thought that Sherlock could even think that, and he shakes his head, voice choked: “No, I-of course not, it’s just I’ve-I never had-”

He gestures back inside, where Sherlock’s parents are chatting away to Rosie.

“I never had that,” John finally admits.

And the line of Sherlock’s mouth wavers, and he’s hugging John like his life depends on it.

“You have it here,” Sherlock tells him, soft yet fierce. “You have it now. Always.”

Sometimes, closure arrives years later. Long after you stopped searching for it. You’re just sitting there, laughing this laugh that is unapologetically yours. As it trails off, the corners of your mouth hug your face and it hits you, ‘I’m happy’. It’s just like that. With no fanfare or epiphany. Suddenly, you are grateful for goodbyes that carried you to this moment; to the space you are now holding.

you should read this cute af pushing daisies AU by my friend <3

art tag