louis tomlinson wakes up one morning and thinks “hmm, how gay am i going to be today” while proceeding to decide between the purple scarf and the green one before he shimmies over to his walk-in closet and picks out the tightest jeans possible. he grins to himself, thinks “very gay,” blows himself a kiss in his diamond bedazzled floor-length mirror, and struts down his newly refurbished catwalk
