Yup, I put it on him, it ain’t nothing that I can’t do
Yup, I buy my own, if he deserve it, buy his shit too
All up in the store, shorty, tricking if I want to
All up in the store, shawty, fly as we want to
He scrubs his hands over his face and grabs his phone off the night stand.
May 18th, 8:50am.
He had ten minutes left to sleep and he sighs like he’s not going to miss this.
Like he’s not going to miss hearing Bittle’s music from across the hall or hearing Shitty yell at the LAX house from the reading room or the sounds of Ransom and Holster moving around in the attic, heavy footed and unapologetic.
He’ll miss all of it.
Countdown ends and the first haunting notes of Halo begin to play.
Bittle changes it before the piano kicks in and Schoolin’ Life comes on.
This is for them 20 somethings
Time really moves fast, you were just sixteen
His window slides open and Jack can smell weed before Shitty rolls in.
Jack pulls back his legs right before he lands on them.
“Hey,” Shitty says, full smile and half dressed. “You’re up.”
“And you’re wearing more clothes than I thought you’d be,” Jack says as he nods to Shitty’s pajama pants.
“Oh yeah, well.” Shitty tucks his legs beneath him and settles in at the foot of Jack’s bed. “Bits and I struck a deal. I’d put on pants and he’d let me smoke on graduation day. I think I got the bum end of the deal because that was some weak shit.” He squeezes Jack’s ankle beneath the covers. “We’re graduating today. Can you fucking believe it?”
Jack shakes his head.
“Can’t believe it’s been four years since I forced you to be friends with me.”
“Yeah,” Jack says dryly, “neither can I.”
Shitty tips forward and Jack braces himself for a sloppy kiss but gets a surprisingly gentle kiss on his forehead instead.
“I gotta take a shower. You mind if I hop in there first or do you wanna?” Jack stretches and rolls his shoulders. He slept funny and this mattress has seen better days.
There’s a brand new king sized one waiting for him in Providence.
“You go ahead. Leave the water running so I won’t have to wait for it to warm up.”
Shitty hops off the bed and strips before he even gets to the bathroom.
He whistles while the water heats and Jack laces his fingers behind his head and stares up at the crack in the ceiling.
Ransom and Holster bound down the attic stairs and Bittle shuts off his music. His door opens and closes and Jack watches the shadow of his feet beneath his door.
Bittle pauses there for a moment before he moves away and hurries down the stairs.
“but you are always too intense frightening in the way you want him unashamed and sacrificial he tells you that no man can live up to the one who lives in your head and you tried to change didn’t you? closed your mouth more tried to be softer prettier less volatile, less awake but even when sleeping you could feel him traveling away from you in his dreams so what did you want to do love split his head open? you can’t make homes out of human beings someone should have already told you that and if he wants to leave then let him leave you are terrifying and strange and beautiful something not everyone knows how to love.”
“Kelly, the most beautifulest girl in the world!
You are my survivor, and I admire you. You have no idea how special you are, humble, talented and blessed you are. Sometimes I wish I could be more like you. Sometimes they don’t wanna give your credit to you. Wouldn’t be a ‘Destiny’s Child’ if it wasn’t for you. DC3 forever! I’m thanking you.” -Beyoncé
I have a free moment at work and I’m feeling less sick, so let me just finally bitch about the Grammy’s for a second.
I fucking love Adele and want her to win awards because she’s a shining beacon of actual talent and quality in the music industry. For me, Adele’s popularity and recognition is in many ways the public saying en masse to the music industry, “We’re not stupid, and we reward quality, talent, and effort.” She’s in many way a symbol of how the typical, hyper-marketed pop star mold isn’t what works, and how we deserve better.
And usually I just want her to have all the Grammys.
i will now make a list of celebs i know i would be really great friends with
beyonce: i know everyone says this, but legitimately we’d be good friends because i’m awkward and polite, and i sense a deep rooted mom essence in her that would look on me as a baby duckling. also she can turn up and i’d always be available to watch the twins and baby blue
The Rock: i get the sense i would never truly hear anything he said to me because i would be too star struck but my smile and laughter would win him over so he just thinks im a good listener
Aja Naomi King: we’d have a real sisterhood, she’d introduce me to white wine, i’d be at her wedding
lin manuel miranda: i think combined we have like 3 interest between us but i sense a real Ben Wyatt/April Ludgate dynamic going on, and i’d be an honest writing partner
chris evans: i don’t like the woods or exercise, but i love disney, dogs, and i heard his dad is a dentist and i have perfect teeth. combined with my ability to invite myself to things, i think he would find my 5″4′ presence endearing
Her words echo the parallelism of the love songs in the Bible, because the loss of love is a crisis of faith in this album. Torturers are remedies, love is weaponized. In her clearing, in her fight, Beyoncé submits to an education about the nature of redemption: The love that hurts is the love that saves. It’s a profound switch in the spirituality of the album, which, up until that point, prefers destruction and threats. At this point in the film, a montage of couples, smiling triumphantly, fills the screen as the bass revives in the last third of “All Night.” We are nearing the bend in the river. It was so hard to get here.
hundreds of thousands of indian girls and boys are constantly pressured into concealing their culture and pushed away from traditional dances, for fear of all the crude insults that’ll be hurled their way, but Beyonce and Coldplay put up a music video displaying a microscopic view of Indian culture and get praised for it