THEYRE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT AMELIAS BABY ON GREYS.
↳ “ I loved him for every second of his life.”
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“coming of age” books and movies are so stupid like being a teenager isn’t about having sex and going to parties it’s about staring out your car window after hanging out with your old best friends who you haven’t seen in months and realizing that you aren’t actually friends anymore and that your childhood has been well and truly dead since you were thirteen
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is it fucking weird to anyone else to think that deer are like, everywhere
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I’m attached to the characters that remind me the most of me and because of that, i have this weird idea that Erin Lindsay and Amelia Shepherd would be a kick ass best friend duo and i want that.
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Me: *makes a small irrelevant mistake*
My Brain, banging pots and pans together: YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUCKED UP YOU FUC
Me: *makes huge mistake that will directly affect my future horribly*
My Brain, lounging on a lawn chair with shades on: ….acknowledged
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buying ppl things is SUCH a rush.. even if it’s just like.. a bag of their favorite chips or whatever.. the thought of someone experincing even a split-second burst of happiness bc they didn’t expect to get some of their favorite chips that day? what a thrill! love it
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concept: living in an apartment in a foreign city. the smell of the bakery down the street comes in through the open window and sunlight warms your back while you lay in bed with a cup of tea on the nightstand and your pet sleeping at your feet. in the next room is all the books you could ever read, but a few of your favorites are still scattered around your bedroom because you’re in the middle of reading them all again. music plays faintly. you are relaxed, happy, and the only thing you have to worry about is what you want to make for breakfast.
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brain: u gotta be… The Best™
me: ok so we’ll work hard then?
brain: no work… only Best.
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