we're all sorry

i want to like. make a list of not-str8 historical figures bc ppl are tagging that walt whitman post like “omg wait really” & honestly yall deserve better.

Like, you know who wasn’t straight? Charlotte Bronte, who wrote Jane Eyre. Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, who wrote Swan Lake. E.M. Forster, who wrote A Passage to India. Marcel Proust. Henry James. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Virginia Woolf. Herman Melville. Michelangelo. Leonardo Da Vinci. Socrates. William fucking Shakespeare.

And these are just (a few of) the ones we known about, because there’s a storied history of coded messages in literature that mean we are often looking gay metaphors in the face and not understanding them. We’re there, we’re out there, and I’m so mad that I didn’t know.

We have a history. We have a legacy. WE’VE ALWAYS BEEN HERE.

try not to think about the soft touches klance give each other when they’re lying in bed together. 

  • the way lance uses his thumb to trace circles into keith’s cheek, smiling at him all fond 
  • keith rubbing his hand along lance’s side in soothing motions, sometimes swiping his thumb across skin and tugging him closer when keith shifts to get comfy 
  • the soft humming lance does as he peppers keith’s face with light kisses, sometimes lingering long enough to press one to the corner of keith’s mouth
  • the way keith can’t help but smile at the kisses, eyes still closed and content as he tries to catch them all with his lips, most of the time he misses but the affection is all the same
  • how lance mumbles soft words to keith, telling him how beautiful and good he is, how much he loves him and about all the things he’s going to show him when they go home
  • and keith can never respond the way he wants to when lance comes at him with words like this - he’s never really been very good with words in general. he just tugs lance close to his chest, wrapping his arms around him as he presses a kiss to his forehead and breathes softly into his hair, mumbling i love yous in response as he strokes his hand along lance’s back
  • lance has the worst goosebumps
I Wonder...
  • ENTJ: I wonder if our response to smiling is instinctive, or conditioned from birth like our concept of beauty?
  • INTJ: Yeah. For example if you were to take a brand new baby and love it, speak endearingly, and care for it but replace every smile you would give with a scowl, would he or she grow up scowling when pleased?
  • ENTJ: Exactly!
  • ENFP: ...
  • ENFP: I am legitimately concerned for the well being of any child that enters your care...
4

remember those ain’t your bodyguards,

they’re your b r o t h e r s.

for: Myra, Bre & Blake ♥

3

i have 0 excuses okay i just saw @joliemariella‘s tags on my silly drunk Pap animation and 

look at all those friends

c’mon Sans, gotta carry ‘em for SCIENCE (and friendship)

2

Childhood friends / 5080 words

Catch up

May 2017

Part One

“I miss you.” He groaned down the phone, clearly half asleep.

“I miss you too.” I snuggled a little further into my bed. “Time you flying back?”

“Mm… dunno. Whenever they wake me up. My heads gone, Lulu. Barely know where I am.”

“You’re in New York.” I told him through a giggle.

Even though he was due back in London the next day, our work schedules weren’t allowing us to spend time together, even still. We’d had over a month without seeing each other, just texts and phone-calls whenever he had the time.
It was what I’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t easy.

“Okay. Then London. London after that, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Gunna try my best to sneak off and come see you, okay? I can’t promise anything but I’ll try.”

I knew he only had a day or so in London before he flew back out to the states, so although he said he was going to try, I didn’t even allow myself to get excited over the thought of seeing him. I knew it wouldn’t happen, no matter how much we both wanted it to.

“Okay.” I tried not to sound too disheartened. “Nearly album time.”

“Don’t.” He sighed.

The closer it got to his album being released, the more nervous he became. It was just two short days away, and he pretty much refused to talk about it. The reaction he’d had to the single was more than we’d ever expected it to be, review after review pouring in praising the song to the high heavens, but if anything, it had just made him worse.
He was feeling the pressure like a literal weight on his body.

“It’s gunna be great, Harry. Don’t worry about it. Besides, the most important thing is that you love it, and you’re proud of it. This is music is for you. No one else.”

“Sent you a copy.” He yawned, eager to stay awake for as long as he could since we hadn’t spoken over the phone for days.

“You did?”

“Mm. The vinyl. You should get it tomorrow so… a day earlier than most.”

“Harry, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. I mean… it’s possible you play a bit of a role in the album so… you deserve it.”

Shock silenced me for a short while, bolting upright in bed, thinking he was just joking with me and he was about to burst out laughing. I should have known he’d was too tired to make any kind of joke, he could barely speak! But Harry was good at cracking a joke at the most inconvenient of times, I just figured this was another one.

“Harry, this is the point where you tell me you’re joking!”

“But I’m not.”

“Harry, I’m fucking warning you!”

“Lulu, your voice is loud. Shush. My ears, they’re delicate. M’tired.”

“Harry, I’m pretty sure it’s the afternoon where you are.”

“Been up since four though.”

“YOU’VE STILL NOT TOLD ME YOU’RE JOKING!”

“Track one.” He replied, unable to lift his tone to match mine. “It’s yours.”

“Meet Me in the Hallway?”

“Awh. You know the track-list! I fucking love you!”

I could picture it perfectly, the dopey smile on his face as sleep crept closer and closer. It somehow made me soften, becoming less agitated.
But not entirely.

“Harry, you must be bullshitting me.” I exhaled. “You wrote the album after we’d met once, for the first time in six years!”

“But it wasn’t just any old person, was it? It was you!”

“But-”

“I told you you’d always been on my mind.”

“Well, what are the lyrics?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Haz-”

“It’s about… if you had ever turned around, and asked me to be there, I would have been. If you had ever… said you wanted me, I would have been yours. Six years ago. Three years ago. Now. Never changed.”

I pretty much collapsed after that, falling back down onto my bed and slapping my free hand against my forehead, wondering how it was possible that Harry had felt so intensely for me all those years.
But what I had to understand was that we were in completely different positions. For me, Harry gone off, practically forgotten about his old life and his old friends, and was elevated to this level of fame where I felt like I had to completely disassociate myself from him. He became like some kind of myth, rather than someone I’d once been close to.
But for Harry, he’d been thrust into this completely different life so quickly, that I became a representation of something he used to have, someone he used to like. I became this almost shimmering memory to him, something he found himself longing for. I guess maybe he felt like something that could have been was snatched from him before he knew what was happening. Whilst I was trying to forget him, he was missing me.
Of course we’d view things differently. That’s what happens with two people who live completely separate lives. The world can look completely different to two different people. Memories can be completely different for two people.
I lay there for a while, trying to find the right words to say.
There were only three that made sense.

“I love you.”

I didn’t get a reply, which at first made me furrow my brows, confused as to why I wasn’t getting an answer from him.
I figured it out pretty quickly.

“Haz? You asleep?” I heard him breathing, but nothing else. “Goodnight, Haz.”

Part Two

“What the hell has been going on with you?” Katherine asked, the rest of the girls all leaning forward in eager anticipation to hear my answer. “Feels like we’ve barely seen you.”

“Nothing’s going on.” I lied, terribly. “I’ve just been… busy.”

“With what?”

“I’ve been going home more than usual.” I thought on my feet. “Y’know what my mums like. She gets well lonely and like… I just wanted to go and keep her company.”

“Maybe you should get her a dog or something.”

“She’s got three cats! That’ll have to do.”

I knew they wouldn’t quiz me for too long, because they knew full well that I was a bit of a closed book. I barely ever opened up to them anyway, so it wasn’t like they could see any difference in how I was acting.
I was thankful for that, really. I loved and trusted my friends endlessly, but I still didn’t want to tell them what was going on between myself and Harry. It was still early days really, no matter how intense it was, no matter how deep our feelings. It wasn’t something that could just be innocent gossip, there were bound to be repercussions of people knowing. It felt best to just keep things quiet for as long as we physically could. We were already facing enough challenges without other people breathing down our necks.
But there were certain downsides to people not knowing, and I was about to encounter one of them.

“Guys, I have some news.” Ella sighed.

It was me, Kat, Ella and Gabby. Or, the ‘core four’ as we liked to call ourselves. I’d gone to uni with Gabby and Kat, and we’d picked up Ella at some point along the way after bumping into her numerous times on various nights down the pub. They were my girls.
The three of us sat forward, eager for her to continue, but a little worried thanks to the tone in her voice.
When I saw she had tears in her eyes, my worry turned to dread, my stomach fell to the floor.

“Tom broke up with me.” She trembled.

“Fuck. Off.” I gawped. “Fuck off. You’re kidding me?”

“He did it yesterday.”

“You’re having me on? There’s no fucking way!”

She shrugged, the tears finally spilling and Kat pulled her under her wing immediately, Ella hiding her face and sobbing uncontrollably.
The three of us looked at each other wide eyed, trying to grasp at what she’d just told us because it literally didn’t commute. Her and Tom had been together for years. We’d all been squealing about how we were expecting him to propose any day for months. I had always said, for as long as I could remember, that my aim in life was to find a boy who looked at me the way Tom looked at Ella.
I was utterly convinced they were perfect for each other.
It was kind of earth shattering for us, in that moment. We’d never known her without Tom. We never thought we would. And if that’s how we were feeling, I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling.
It was a while before she calmed down enough to lift her head back up and face our sad little faces again, and I was just waiting for Gabby to crack a joke, because that was exactly what she was good at and it was exactly the right thing to put a smile on Ella’s face, no matter how inappropriate the joke.

“Well, I’m fuming because I had money on you being the first one of us to get married. For god sake. What a let-down.”

Me and Kat laughed awkwardly, whereas Ella laughed appreciatively, wiping away her final few tears and trying to compose herself.

“Did he say why?” I questioned.

“I think this is the worst part.” She sighed.

“If he cheated on you, I will literally murder him.” Kat scowled, and I wasn’t entirely convinced she was joking.

“No. He just… fell out of love with me.” I thought I could hear her heart breaking as she said that. “No real reason behind it. Nothing happened. Nothing changed. He just… stopped loving me. He seemed just as gutted about it as I am but… it just happens, doesn’t it?”

All I could think in that moment was that I was absolutely baffled that anyone, in any situation, could manage to make a relationship work.
I think the only reason I wasn’t completely cynical and against the entire idea of relationship was because my parents had been so happy together before my father passed away. They loved each other so much.
But I couldn’t help but start thinking about how hard relationships were, even in really normal situations. It takes work to be with someone, and Ella was sat there in front of me telling us all that there was actually no good reason behind their break up, no argument, no cheating. Their relationship hadn’t spiralled out of control or ended bitterly… it just faded, disappeared in front of their eyes even though it was the last thing they wanted. That’s the kind of thing you can’t fight. You can’t work through something like that.
I felt sick. I felt so, so sick.

“That’s fucking horrible.” Kat shivered.

“I could tell that it killed him, telling me. It was horrifying. I wish… he’d done something to me. I wish he’d cheated or… just done something so I could be angry at him, but he hasn’t. He just doesn’t love me anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, El.” I reached out and took her hand in mine. “What we can do to cheer you up?”

“Can we just get very drunk and talk to lots of men?”

“You sure about that?” I cringed. “Most men are awful. It’s only going to make you feel worse.”

“I probably need reminding that men are awful, to be honest.”

“Okay, well, good news,” Gabby grinned. “Those lads at the bar look like absolute wankers, and there’s four of them, which gives us one each. Now we’re all single and lonely. Lulu, wave them over.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll go get them.” Kat squealed, jumping up to her feet.

The girls would often try to pair me off with men we met on nights out, and they failed miserably every single time. I was thankful for that, because it meant that it wouldn’t be irregular for me not to show any of them attention, but I still didn’t want to go through with it. I usually humoured the girls a little by flirting, at least, even when I knew nothing would come of it, but I knew I wasn’t even going to do that. I couldn’t. It just wouldn’t feel right.
I was praying they wouldn’t pick up on it.
I watched awkwardly as Kat chatted to them briefly, pointing our way, and they definitely looked intrigued by us.

“Fuck sake.” I mumbled.

“They don’t look that bad.” Gabby lied to herself. “The blonde one is kinda cute.”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Why do you never go off with any of the boys we pick for you? You’ve never had a one night stand, Lulu, and you really should.”

“Because you all have terrible choice in men, basically. And I don’t want one, thanks!”

For a moment, I craved a regular relationship, one where I could openly tell my friends what was happening without having to worry. I wished I could just tell them that I wasn’t interested because I was actually in love with someone.
But it was Harry who I was in love with, and Harry brought drama and attention, two things I really didn’t want to put up with. I got enough bother just by knowing him.
I wished for some normality, just for a moment.

“I might.” Ella sulked, and it was clear that she was trying to convince herself that Tom was awful when we all bloody knew he wasn’t.

It wasn’t long before Kat was walking back over with the boys trailing quietly behind her, giving each other looks as if they thought they were really in there with us.
I shuffled around to make room, for them, scraping my stool across the floor to get as close to Ella and as far away from the boys as physically possible.

“Guys, this is Tom, Thomas and Tim.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” I mumbled to myself, as quietly as I could.

“All very similar names.” Gabby spoke loudly, not shying away like I was. “I don’t believe you. Are you fake naming us?”

They began chatting casual back and forth, adamant that they weren’t fake naming us and adamant that we got a bottle of wine for the table.
Ella leaned in closer to me, speaking quietly so only I could take in what she was saying.

“You have to teach me how to flirt,” She whispered. “Because I have no idea.”

“You think I do?” I squealed as quietly as I could. “Do you know me at all? I’m uselesss. I have you even seen the colour my cheeks go when I’m even near to an attractive person?”

“Oh my god I’m going to die alone. Oh my god.” She panicked. “Please die alone with me.”

I nodded, and took her hand in mine beneath the table, slotting our fingers together and squeezing her hand tightly, hoping the action with help her to hold back tears, and it seemed to.
In my desperate crave for a little bit of normality, I took my eyes to look at Ella, thinking of how much I trusted the girl and how that if I was going to tell anyone, it would have to be her. All I could think about was that it would be nice to speak with someone about my boyfriend, someone other than my bloody mother who I knew wasn’t 100% on the idea of it anyway. I wanted to have even just one person who knew about my relationship, just so I could talk about things and have someone there who could understand the position I was in.
Besides, it felt like the drama of my announcement might be something that could distract her from her current misery.

“You wanna go for lunch tomorrow?” I offered. “We need a catch up.”

“Yeah, sure.” She smiled. “Let’s get through tonight first.”

I let out a big sigh and nodded, the two of us dreading the evening ahead but not quite willing to admit it.
So we endured it. We endured the shit chat-up lines and we endured the mindless conversations, and we both endured our whirring minds that kept returning to boys who weren’t by our sides, and weren’t going to be by our sides any time soon.

Part Three

The room was spinning when I landed on my bed and stared up to my ceiling, hiccupping loudly and feeling a little bit sick.
It didn’t take me long to reach the conclusion that it was a wonderful idea to give Harry a call, because of course he’d want to speak to me at three o’clock in the morning when his sleeping pattern was already in tatters and I wouldn’t even remember it the next day. Ideal time to call.
But all I knew was I wanted to hear his voice.
The glow of my phone somehow made me even dizzier as I scrolled through my calls until I found his name, tapping and then putting him on speaker before placing my phone on my chest, closing my eyes, and listening to the dial tone.
It didn’t last long.

“Mm’ello?” Harry groaned, and it was obvious I’d just woke him up.

“HI I LOVE YOU!”

I managed to get a laugh out of him instantly, when really, I’d just been expecting him to groan and ask me why the hell I was calling him at such a ridiculous hour.
It was immediately noticeable that he wasn’t mad at me, and I was immediately relieved.

“I love you too.” He eventually giggled back. “What bloody time is it?”

“It’s late. I’m sorry. I got a bit drunk.”

“Yeah? You okay? Not throwing up or anything?”

“Uhh, not yet but… I might. I feel a bit sick. Got a kebab.”

“Was it nice? You had a nice night?”

“Nooooooo. No.” I turned on my side, my phone slipping and hitting the bed as I hiccupped again. “The girls were trying to force lads on me.”

“Hope you told them to fuck off and that you had a boyfriend.”

“Yeah but none of my friends even know I have a boyfriend.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re my boyfriend.”

He didn’t say anything. The only noise I could hear was a slight shuffling, like maybe he was repositioning himself, forcing himself to wake up a bit and go through this conversation without the risk of falling back to sleep at any moment, even though I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t just start snoring whilst he was still chatting.

“Right. Shit. I didn’t really think about that.” He cleared his throat.

“So I went along with it a little bit but kept thinking ‘bout you.”

“Y’know, you can tell anyone you want. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t… talk about things with your mates. That’s not fair.”

“I’m gunna tell Ella. Don’t want everyone to know anyway. I’m gunna tell Ella. T’Ella.”

“Okay.” He tittered. “But, I just want you to know that… This is all on your terms, alright? You can tell anyone you want and talk about us as much as you want. If you need this to be… normal, then treat it like it is. If there are repercussions to that, it’s fine! We’ll deal with it. I don’t want you to think you have to hold back on how you feel. I think… Shit. Never mind.”

“Oh you can’t do that!” I complained. “Tell me what you were gunna say!”

He went quiet again, and the pounding in my head changed from the sign of a fun night into something completely different. I picked my phone up and turned it off speaker, trying to cover another hiccup as I sat upright and pressed my phone against my ear, waiting for his answer.

“Okay.” He sighed. “I just… I think you went long enough choosing to ignore your own emotions. I don’t now want you to have to do that through force or fear. This is yours! They’re your feelings and it’s your situation and… you can do whatever the fuck you want with it. Okay?”

I think I kind of sobered up a little, just hearing him say that. It may have seemed small, and insignificant, but it really meant so much. Harry was a private person, he didn’t care to share too many aspects of his life no matter how many people were interested to know. He kept quiet. It was an important part of how he dealt with his life.
He was willing to put all that aside and throw caution to the wind in order to help me feel like we could work together normally, and so I wouldn’t feel as though I had to purposefully hide emotions that I’d been subconsciously hiding for years. There was this obvious tone in his voice that made it clear that he really didn’t give a shit. It wasn’t like it was a big deal for him, something he’d given a lot of thought to and then reached this conclusion. It was simple. It was the obvious answer. It was a given.

“I love you.” I told him. “I’m still not gunna tell everyone but… Thank you. I’m glad that I can talk about it. That’s nice. You’re nice.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.” I heard him settling again. “It’s killing me. I’m not used to missing anyone this much.”

“I love you and you love me and everything is good.” I spoke absentmindedly as I slumped back down on my bed.

“I know I know, but I miss you. I miss that… thing we have.”

“What thing?”

“When… we’re together, fucking sparks fly, Lulu.” He sighed. “I mean… I kinda thought it would fade away but, it never has. It’s like… one of my favourite feelings in the world. Just being around you and… seeing and feeling those sparks. I dunno. I’ve just… I’ve never had anything like that before. I miss you so much and I just want you here with me, but… I miss those sparks too. I miss the feeling.”

“You get well deep when you’re tired.” I smirked. “I’m too drunk for this.”

“Fuck off, you!” He blurt out a heavy laugh. “You’re such a dick. Fuck off. Go to sleep.”

“I love you.” I smiled.

“I’m never sharing my feelings with you again, Little Lulu Lamb.”

I wished that he could lull me to sleep with a soft song. I wished I had that every night, his soothing voice quietly singing songs to me as I drifted into another realm. I wondered briefly if we’d ever be lucky enough to be in that position, where we weren’t in either his bed, or my bed, but we’d be in our bed. He could be there night after night, and I wouldn’t have to miss him so much.

“I didn’t get chance to speak to you yesterday,” I hiccupped for good measure. “But I love the song.”

“You listened?”

“Obviously. It’s amazing. My favourite from the whole album.”

“Yeah, well, you’re biased.”

“I don’t care. It’s blatantly the best one. But they’re all good. Well proud of you.”

“Thank you, Gorgeous. Now c’mon. Get some sleep.”

To say Harry loved praise so much, he actually couldn’t accept it that well. He’d just get all shy and struggle to think of the best way to respond. He’d just brush past it, place thanks on other people, ignore it, but he’d have this wonderful little smile on his face that proved the words had gone in.
I wished I could see it then.

“Goodnight, Haz.”

“Goodnight, Lamb. I promise I’ll see you soon, alright?”

But I couldn’t even reply. My head was too heavy on the pillow, my mind slipping from one state to another, and I fell asleep there and then, happy that his voice was the last thing to bless my ringing ears.

Part Four

I’d never woken up to so many texts in my damn life.
I knew it wasn’t a good sign.
I had texts from Harry, my mum, all my friends, even my boss had decided to this was something worth texting me about even though we’d never exchanged a word via that medium before. I should have predicted it wasn’t good news, but my head was already pounding from the numerous pints I’d knocked back the night before. I kind of figured I’d just done something exceptionally humiliating and they were all just taking the piss out of me for it.
That would have been a nicer thing to wake up to.
The text that really caught my attention, and stood out amongst the others, was the one from Gabby.

Gabby:
Why the fuck didn
’t you tell us you’re shagging Harry Styles? That’s very important information!

“You have to be kidding me? What the fuck?”

I then ignored everyone else and went straight to my messages from Harry, hoping it was there that I’d find some kind of explanation as to why it suddenly seemed like every single person I knew was well aware of something we’d tried to keep hidden.
His text was simple.

Haz:
Don
’t read the articles. Make all your social media private. Ignore everything. Just let it pass.

“No no no no no.” I finally sat upright, a curdling in my stomach.

Despite knowing better, the first thing I did was google Harry’s name and look at the most recent media articles, even though it was utterly predictable what had happened and viewing what they were saying word for word wouldn’t do me any good. But I genuinely couldn’t help myself.
The headline that greeted me made me roll my eyes so fast I thought they’d never come back down.
The article that followed made me want to hurl, especially since the picture of my face played such a big role.

Fuck the Daily Mail.”

Harry Styles finally ties himself down with childhood sweetheart.
Of all the supermodels our favourite former boyband member has sitting in his contacts waiting for that call back he promised them, it seems that heartthrob Harry has settled on your average girl next door, sparking hope amongst fans everywhere that they might one day be lucky enough to be a notch on his bedpost after all.
Twenty Two year old, Tallulah Lambert-


“That’s wrong. That’s all wrong. That’s not even my fucking name oh my god!”

-and Harry are rumoured to have made their relationship official after meeting again whilst the two of them were filming Dunkirk, Harry’s acting debut.

“Apparently I’m in Dunkirk. Brilliant. Nice journalism, fuckwits.”

“It was a slow start, but Harry’s really into her.” Said a source close to the two of them. “They grew up together so there are a lot of feelings there from when they were kids. He thinks she might be the one.”
It’s rumoured that Harry even turned down his on-and-off again girlfriend, Kendall Jenner, who wanted to give their relationship one last try, in the hopes of really making things work with Tallulah, who recently quit her job to spend more time on the road with her boyfriend as he pursues his solo career.
“She’s aware that if she’s not around all the time, he could lose interest pretty quickly, so she’s made sure she will always be there. Harry likes it, though. He likes being forced to commit or he just won’t.”


“Where the fuck did they even find that?” I gestured wildly at a picture of me and Harry from school, uniforms on and arms around each other, before scoffing loudly. “Quit my bloody job. Idiot. You should quit your job since you’re bloody useless at it.”

There were so many pictures of us. There were even some that I was convinced I’d never seen before from when we were younger. Then, of course, they brought up the pap pics that had been taken when I was out in fucking LA, and I swear I’d never regretted going somewhere so much before. The whole thing had been an absolute shambles, and it was still cropping back up to bite me.

The two love birds are yet to make an official statement and haven’t been seen together since February, but sources say that the two of them are still going strong after almost a year of dating.
But these things always end in heartbreak, and we hope Tallulah can stand the heat because the ovens about to get really hot.


“This is a joke.” I mumbled to myself, kind of laughing. “This is an absolute joke.”

I ignored all my unopened messages and went to call Harry instead, because he was literally the only person I cared about hearing from. I didn’t give a fuck what my friends had to say or my mum or my bloody boss and numerous other work colleagues who were once again being intrusive about my personal life, all I cared about was talking to Harry.
He answered relatively quickly.

“Hi, Little Lulu Lamb.” He replied, and he sounded so miserable I wanted to cry.

I hated the thought of him being sad. Of course it was frustrating, but all I could think was that it was done. It was done and we’d have to deal with it and there was no point beating ourselves up or feeling badly about it. We’d just have to deal with it. We didn’t have any other options.
I didn’t want to feel sad. It wouldn’t get us anywhere. And I really did not want Harry to be sad, because I knew it would be on my behalf more than on his own.
So I decided the only way forward, was to prove that I was unfazed by the bullshit the media had conjured up with little to no information.

“So, who the fuck is this Tallulah?” I smirked.

Hearing him burst out laughing was one of the nicest noises I’d ever heard, and I suddenly had this overwhelming feeling that we’d be okay, despite everyone knowing and despite the fact that we would have distance between us for the foreseeable future, I had the strange moment of calm.
Like maybe we could really make things work.
Like maybe our feelings really did put all those other trivial things to shame.

  • Sherlock: *lying on the sofa, in his mind palace*
  • Mary: *sighs*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Mary: The posh boy loves the pathologist.
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Mary: Aren't you listening to me?
  • Sherlock: Nope.
  • Mary: You can't ignore it.
  • Sherlock: *still in his mind palace* Yes, I can. See? This is me. Ignoring it.
  • Mary: The silver fox has been barking up that tree for years.
  • Mary: Meat Dagger's keeping an open mind.
  • Mary: And then there's the consulting criminal-
  • Sherlock: *through gritted teeth* He's dead.
  • Mary: *scoffs* So am I. Doesn't stop me getting in your head.
  • Sherlock: *sighs; sits up* Fine. What do I do?
  • Mary: *shrugs* Not sure. But you might want to hurry up. Silver fox is taking hot doctor death to dinner.
  • Sherlock: *stands up* What? Why didn't you tell me?
  • Mary: *gestures* Coke-brain, remember?
  • Sherlock: *huffs; runs out the door*
  • Mary: COAT!
  • Sherlock: *runs back and grabs his coat; leaves*
  • Mary: KEYS!
  • Sherlock: *hurries in and takes his keys; annoyed* Anything else?
  • Mary: Yeah, don't forget to snog her.
  • Sherlock: *rolls his eyes* See you later, Mary *leaves the flat*

“The paint’s supposed to go where?”

Sherlock has his head hung in shame. “On the wall.” He mumbles.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” John folds his arms. 

“On the wall.” Sherlock says louder, then cuts his eyes to the ginger haired puppy who is sitting and panting happily as if nothing is wrong. He gives the pup an accusing glare. “In my defense, it was all going well before-”

“The paint was supposed to go on the wall, and now it’s all over the both of you.” John too cuts his eyes to the pup, whose ginger coat is mottled with white paint. “I have to give both of you baths now, I suppose.” John sighs, then notices Sherlock’s smirk. “A clinical bath, you clot.”

Sherlock stops smirking and puts down the paint roller in the pan. “As if you’ll be able to resist me once I’m undressed.” He begins undoing the buttons on his shirt as he leaves the room. “I’ll give you five minutes before you-”

“Don’t forget you’re in trouble!” John warns. 

“Hm, even more a reason to indulge.”

John watches Sherlock leave, then picks up the pup, holding it out far in front of him to avoid getting paint on himself as well. “Never a dull day, is there?” The puppy licks John’s wrist. “I’m glad you agree.”

2

When Renjun accidentally confesses to you || Requested 💘