just because i don’t follow u back doesn’t mean i think u have a shitty blog. you might just have posts/fandoms/stuff i don’t really want on my dash. and hey, that’s fine. it’s YOUR tumblr you’re here for you and that’s goodgreatawesome
but please don’t think me not following you back means i hate u 5ever and that u can never inbox me or reply to my posts or follow me on twitter or something b/c that is not what it means at all
(Source: rururupansansei, via queerlullaby)
Rating: General Audiences
No Warnings Apply
Pairing: Sherlock & John, Sherlock/John
Tags: Dancing, Slow Dancing, Fluff, Post S3, Pining, Fix-It
Summary: Tuesdays are for the melancholy man and his solo waltz. Except this Tuesday is different, and John is having none of it.
Sherlock slips the iPhone out of the pocket of his robe and thumbs through the music until he finds the piece he’s looking for. He pauses for a moment before he hits play and puts it on repeat. The piece is one of his own, but not one anyone else has heard. “D. de lumine”, roughly translated from Latin is “conductor of light”. Even if his brother has some way of tracking what is on his phone, and it is entirely possible he does, Mycroft would have no idea what the name refers to. A waltz for Sherlock and John. He hits play, closes his eyes where he stands and lets the sound of the violin wash over him. He knows each note and crescendo by heart, each slide of the bow is etched in his memory, every rise and fall carefully constructed to create the evocative piece. His love song, the singular most heartfelt piece he’s ever written. And no one but him will ever hear it.
Sherlock slowly begins to sway, letting the music take hold. He raises his arms and begins to dance. One-two-three, one-two-three. In his mind he leads John in a waltz around the flat. He breaks form to have his arm around mind-John’s waist, closes the gap, and Sherlock beams down at him. John’s form is terrible, his hand resting at the nape of Sherlock’s neck, but Sherlock doesn’t mind. They’re close as they dance rising and falling to the music, the sunlight from the windows in his mind pours in illuminating them. Sherlock, in the real world, smiles his eyes still closed as he dances with the most important, most beloved person in his life. This, this is what Tuesdays are for.