Nick: I saw when you did Carpool Karaoke with Harry when you swapped clothes. And you’re right, he REALLY pulls stuff of.
James: There’s nothing that man can’t wear. It’s so annoying.
Nick: When he wins like style awards, fashion awards, and they’re all like ‘He just looks incredible!’ and essentially what he’s wearing is a T-shirt and jeans. What they’re awarding is his bone structure.
James: Yeah. It’s just that inner thing which is unquantifiable. Ironically, the very thing he has is the X factor.
Nick: I hope he gets jowls. And crows feet.
James: Noooo, cause if he gets crows he’d pull them off like Jagger, you know what I mean?
Nick: UURGH GOD WE HATE HIM!

WHAT would harry styles not shut up about that made dunkirk become a silent movie???? different kinds of candles? his favorite unisex perfumes? dogs he met one time who he thought could maybe talk?

valencing:

ALL OF THE ABOVE plus thoughts on stanislavski’s an actor prepares, a dream about salad dressing, suggestions for
romance subplots involving mark rylance, and a bunch of killer knock-knock
jokes. i mean, whatever it was, they clearly tried so hard not to hurt his
feelings and I think that’s sweet.

harry: what if in this scene i
reminisce about kippers

nolan: harry we’re gonna play something
called the quiet game!!

harry: i love a game!

nolan: everybody stays very, very
quiet, and the first person to say something loses!

harry: ooh!

harry:

harry:

harry: hey mr nolan. mr nolan? while we
were being quiet i wrote some soldier poetry in my head

nolan: okay, now we’re gonna play a
game called no one in this movie has any lines whatsoever

harry: i’m gonna win 😀

me, bursting through your bedroom wall in a shower of dust: bUT that hug before they go onstage is what we’ve always wanted from One Direction, and that’s what makes them unsustainable as a phenomenon. What we always wanted from them was what they did not give to us intentionally
you: wh
me, briskly removing my shoes and shaking fragments of rubble out of them: One Direction is perhaps the first band to exist entirely within the Panopticon, from the very beginning, and yet even that was not enough for us. Can you imagine how difficult it would become to hold onto a “self” when what people want most from you are the moments of your life that specifically are NOT FOR THEM? It wasn’t just what they DID, we wanted to know what they FELT, constantly. We demanded to know but we did not want to be TOLD. The knowledge could only be “authentic” if it was not meant for us
you: why are you in my house
me, climbing into your bed and pulling your blankets up to my chin: The endless “documentaries,” the social media — we had an unprecedented, and unprecedentedly intimate, degree of access to these people, and still what we valued most were secrets and accidents. What we wanted was their interiority, and when we could not have that we invented it. Wouldn’t you resent having to constantly be GRATEFUL for that grasping, rapacious love? I would
you: are you crying?
me: We wanted to love them by devouring them, and now we have nothing to eat but our own hearts. can you bring me a hot water bottle

thesufjanstevensmodel420:

vampire weekend = having a good fun time being a college student on summer vacation, drinking fruity cocktails in outdoor cafes 

the national = being a suicidal english professor high on opiates while wearing three tweed suits layered on top of each other. you’re crying and its snowing outside