⚱️ nameinajar Follow

dni if you defend dmitri karamazov he's literally suspected of parricide and elder abuse

🎩 mityussy Follow

maybe that's why i like him

⚱️ nameinajar Follow

you're literally so immature. even if he wasn't a murderer he's still a violent threat to the community and you're all acting like he's your toxic book boyfriend of smth. if I have to hear that he's got a great rack another time I'm gonna start reporting people.

🎭 master-of-none Follow

hey op not to be rude but this is what you sound like

3859 notes

🌙 moonyverse Follow

#istg if this poll ends up in history books

245 notes

🦢 living-vicariously Follow

if mitya ends up in jail im consoling his gf

#agrafena svetlova please be sapphic

46 notes

🎠 liselottw Follow

all you "rpf is immoral" mfs have been really quiet since alyosha karamazov was on the news

8.759 notes

🧅 onion-queen Follow

that one annoying witness at the karamazov trial that's just gotta go. god please take her. she's ready.

🧅 onion-queen Follow

THAT ONE WITNESS THAT JUST BE FUCKING TALKING

🧅 onion-queen Follow

lord please take mitya karamazov's suffering and put it on that witness

1.589 notes

👁 the-eyewitness Follow

Recently my asks have been flooded with people asking for my take on the Karamazov trial. An in-depth explanation would require a long meta that I am not in the conditions to write as of right now, so to put it short: sometimes we just have to let old people die.

🧄 m-rakitin-author Follow

I think I know the culprit

👁 the-eyewitness Follow

your receding hairline has been on national television enough times for everyone to see your brain might be damaged by uv radiations

Camilla stayed single all her life. She lives alone in her grandmother's old house in Virginia, and sits in the rocking chair at night and stares at the fireplace, smoking a Lucky Strike with old country songs murmuring on the radio, and tries to read Jane Eyre, but her thoughts always wander. To Henry. To Charles. To what once was.

Charles never did move out of the trailer he used to share with his girlfriend. Francis's yellowed, unopened letter is still lying somewhere deep in a drawer. He gets the odd job sometimes, washing cars or dishes or toilets. All the little money he has goes to liquor. What more does he need, anyway? His only aim in life is to forget. The owner of his usual place lets him stay past closing time sometimes, and play the out of tune piano, and slurred notes of Chopin fill the empty place, and he imagines they're all still there, in the library, where they can hear him play. But when he's finished, the lazy applause of his friends and the bright smile of his sister fail to appear.

The older Francis gets, the younger the men he goes home with. The doorman sees a new small nineteen year old blond leaving the building every morning, some looking shameful, others almost proud. He meticulously keeps up his socialite facade in public, but as soon as he's home alone, the mask is dropped, the cigarette is lit, and he sits in the windowsill chainsmoking. Looking at the sky. Wondering where Henry is. Wondering what could have been. Wondering why he's still here. His bright red hair slowly but surely fades to gray.

as max verstappen once said. lol.