@ bighit i mean it when i say dont fuck the styles up for them. i want zayn and shawn mendes and the weeknd shakin in their boots when the boys step outta that car. i want every artist in there to stare at them in awe and realize their own stylists aint shit. i want drake falling in love with jimin
It doesn’t interest me… what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me… how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me… what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know… if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know… if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me.. if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know… if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know… if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, Yes.
It doesn’t interest me… to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done…
It doesn’t interest me… who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me..where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know… if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Our capacity for love increases with each person we cross paths with throughout our lives and with each moment we spend with those people. But too often we neglect that part of ourselves in favor of others, and by the time we realize just how important it is, we find ourselves with fewer folks around to practice with. But the seven of you have something that nobody else ever had. Time. All the time in the world. Time enough to grow indescribably close. Time enough to, to learn how to care for each other, how to allow yourselves to be cared for. And in the case of Barry and Lup, time enough to fall deeply and truly in love.
The Adventure Zone, The Stolen Century, Chapter 5. AKA, when I started crying.
so there was a post floating around a while ago about ngozi saying during a stream or something that holster knew about Bitty’s crush on jack and thought jack was leading Bitty on and was a little annoyed with him about that and I just
I really want a fic where him drunkenly and stupidly calling jack out on it at the end of year 2 is the catalyst for Jack’s “oh” moment
Not his father quoting Gretzky at the last possible moment, but adam birkholtz, drunk on his trademark svedka & pepsi, going on a tirade about the Cruel Sheep Empire that briefly turns into almost incoherent rambling about being cognizant of Bitty’s feelings and not giving him false hope, and then turns into nothing but retching sounds because holster’s throwing up in the bushes because, really, svedka and Pepsi?? is a terrible combo????