my soul hurts
imagine being twenty-one and walking into your best friend’s house and finding him dead on the floor and he was twenty-one and just had a baby and knowing in your heart that there’s more carnage and you’re twenty-one finding his wife dead and blankly staring at twenty-one and then here’s this baby this precious thing still in his crib crying amongst the wreckage and you pick him up and cradle him in your arms and realize that he’s the most important thing and you’re twenty-one and twelve years later after having your happiness torn from you 4380 days in a row 105120 hours in a row 6307200 minutes in a row but what happiness do you have honestly because all you can think of is twenty-one and james and lily and it’s my fault it’s my fault it’s all my fault
"His tall, firm, upright figure, among the bulky forms and stooping shoulders of the elderly men, was such as Emma felt must draw every body’s eyes; and, excepting her own partner, there was not one among the whole row of young men who could be compared with him.”
Flattery: she probably took a seminar.
nathan looking at audrey vs. audrey looking at nathan
this is a really cool joke, Netflix, acting like the season three finale of Haven is the latest episode that you have
because it’d be a really dick move if you left things on this majorly traumatic note
and we both know you’re better than that, right?