#can’t people just be fucking nice?

[agentrcmedy]

thats not an edgar allen poe quote LMFAO its from a poem by sade andria zabala

So…instead of just kindly educating me and letting me know, maybe even recommend something by said author I can read (which I’d love to do since these words are beautiful), you’re choosing to belittle me by laughing at me? Cool. Thanks anon. Really nice of you. Also, your punctuation is incorrect. It’s “that’s” and “it’s.”

[paunchsalazar]

they were sleeping together at this point

[amethysttribble]

Father had personally asked Feanor to stand for this portrait, so he was. Father had quietly suggested that perhaps this could be a painless exercise, which did not actually mean ‘painless’ but rather ‘silent’ for Feanor, but he agreed. Father told him this painting did not symbolize anything but his own desire to have a record of all his available loved ones around him, and Feanor was trying to see it that way- for the sake of his own sanity.

Because his stomach was roiling, and there was a heaviness in his chest, a great emptiness which his heart was pounding against, echoing, echoing, echoing.

Father had one hand on Feanor’s shoulder and the other was upon Indis’s. She was sat in front of them, smiling beautifully, little golden-haired Arafinwe in her lap. Around them, her three dark-haired children were gathered. Findis on Father’s other side, Nolofinwe with her, and Lalwen in front of Feanor.

To the unaware eye, Feanor knew, they must all look like they matched. Like they went together correctly. Like a family.

When the portrait was complete and those dark haired children were gathered around the mother and father, who would guess that one child was out of place? Who might glance at all that paint representing their faces and think anything but-

You could almost be her son, Feanor thought, and then his mind replied, But you’re not.

He was so still and he dared not move, because if he did, he’d never get back in place. If Feanor flinched once, the sharp, jagged pieces of him that never fit right in this puzzle would scratch one of them. They’d be annoyed and that would be it: he’d combust in anger, he’d shatter across the floor, snapping and snarling at everyone unnecessarily until he ruined their perfect little scene. Father said this might be a painless exercise. No, no; this was to be a silent, still exercise.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

How good a painter was this person Father hired? How varied his faces? Would he capture that Feanor’s nose resembled that of none of the people here? Could he represent that his frame was already different from his father and little half-brother’s?

Would he lie and throw a pleased smile on Feanor’s face? Not even Father had asked him to smile.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

Feanor’s presence made them fit together so symmetrically, maybe that was pleasing enough to hide the wrongness of this scene. Maybe that’s why Father made him come here today, the pretty scene. Why he asked him to suffer, even as the longer he stood here, the more and more Feanor felt like he was about to be sick all over the floor.

A ghost, a ghost, there was a ghost looming over their shoulders ruining this perfectly symmetrical scene. Couldn’t they feel her breathing down their necks, icy chill against sweat? Didn’t their perfectly posed heads feel her long, clever fingers wrapped lovingly around their necks?

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

Feanor’s gaze slipped down to the back of Indis’s head. Her beautiful golden hair. She didn’t wear a crown, this was a family portrait, and that felt worse. So much worse.

If he let his eyes unfocus and his mind wander, he could try to lie to himself that her hair was much lighter and the faces of the children around them more closely resembled his own. The woman in front of him loved him, and she fussed over his hair before they sat for this portrait, and he’d let her do it.

The worst part was Feanor did know that Indis would help him with the ties of his robes, if only he let her.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

She’s not, she’s not, she’s not. It was a simple statement of fact. It was scandal enough that the father replaced the wife, when one at least chose a wife, but what freak replaced his own mother?

What would the people who saw this portrait think? Would they see Finwe’s happy family or would they see Feanor’s blaring, uncomfortable intrusion upon what gods and men declared to be a better order of things? Father wanted him to belong here, but he didn’t.

He just didn’t.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

A painless exercise. Painless, painless, painless, for them. Silent, still Feanor, a happy accessory to the triumphant union of Finwe and Indis, a grateful stray dog permitted to drink from the bowls provided by Indis’s family.

This exercise was just meant to capture the image of all Finwe loved, nothing more. Don’t think too hard about it, Feanor. You might make the children unhappy.

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

You should pretend you are, though. That’ll make them like you.

Because they did so disdain him, most of the time. They disliked how he glared at their mother and started fights at family dinners and ignored them in the hallways. Why shouldn’t they? Feanor would hate a person who did those things to his family, too.

He just couldn’t stop, though. He wanted to, sometimes, when the exhaustion and loneliness caught up, and then he remembered that he wasn’t Indis’s son and never would be, and remembering that made him angry. Wouldn’t it just be so damn convenient for them all if he was almost her son?

But he wasn’t.

He was Miriel’s son. That was her name. He had no portrait with her. He loved her.

He loved Miriel, but it was Indis he posed with and-

When the session was done, Feanor jerked away from his father and shoved his way past Lalwen. As he went, Indis looked up at him, caught his eye, and he couldn’t help the sneer that crossed his face.

He hoped that was painless enough for her.

When he returned to his chamber, he went to the wash room and heaved in the pot there. The gagging and retching made wetness prick his eyes, and the sudden tightness of throat made him choke all the harder. The sickness and heaving stayed long past when there was anything in his stomach to lose.

No one came. Feanor hoped maybe Father would, but really, why would he? Feanor had been mostly good, just a little rudeness wasn’t worth either reprimand or comfort.

No, they were together. Maybe admiring their portrait, happy and pleased, or complaining about his behavior again. Really, why couldnt that Curufinwe just accept nice things?

I need to get out of here, Feanor thought, face and body wet with both sweat and tears. I need to leave this place.

He was a good son, and he could do anything else his father wanted but betray his mother further. No, Feanor couldn’t pose as Indis’s son even a second longer. He would destroy himself, if he had to think one more time-

You could almost be her son. But you’re not.

[finniestoncrane]

I don’t know what I want and I don’t know what I need but I’m glad I’ve got therapy tomorrow

[acesammy]

The thing about how sam’s arc in season 4 is often discussed is that people simultaneously acknowledge that the angels are bad, while claiming Sam is an idiot for rebelling against them.

like I have listened through three (3) rewatch podcasts and they always seem to fall into this loop of going ‘hey the angels are Obviously up to no good’ while also going ‘Sam is really stupid. Why would he trust a demon when literal angels are telling him to stop’

idk man. Maybe bc the angels are Obviously up to no good????

[loveserum]

ok but what if I never fall in love like that again. what if I never love like that again

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Friendly reminder that Dream repeatedly made sexual jokes about actual teenagers, including a thirteen year old, sometimes after being asked to stop (keep in mind he was 21/22, five years older than Tommy and eight years older than Lani) up to and including coercing Tommy into saying he loved him in private DMs or he’d destroy Tubbo's villagers (then getting shocked that Tommy could find it weird) there’s been evidence of him pushing extremely important boundaries on safeguarding as some sort of fucked up joke for YEARS. Even in the most charitable possible interpretation he thought acting like a creep in private to a teenager was something extremely funny to tell an audience that skews very young (if you’ve been to any events for these guys, they’re primarily children too young to use social media, I’m not talking about teenagers I'm talking single digit age children) and that’s something I think makes me extremely fucking skeptical he was some angel when he WASN'T in front of the cameras. If he thought that was an acceptable boundary to push while being watched, I have zero doubts he'd act like people owed him their success in private.

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

umm so fun thing- an anon was mean again, but this one affected me more than normal for some reason, sooo I shall post less ✨personality✨ here bc pain, soooo pls follow @the-curators-bullshit for hhof personality. thank you and goodnight lol

[aimseytv]

one thing that always makes me 0_0 is when people claim to be supportive of people being neurodivergent up until said person displays neurodivergent traits and then it’s a whole whirlwind of just “this person is annoying because of (insert neurodivergent trait here)”

[tennessoui]

this has stayed in my brain for like 2 weeks: au where obi-wan gets fed up with the city council because he keeps writing them asking them to fill this pothole on his street that he hates driving around and they keep not doing it so he decides to run for city council himself on the sole platform of if he’s elected he’s going to fucking fix that fucking pothole.

and he wins because he is very charming and not a lot of people vote anyway, and he fills in his pothole and then next election cycle, he’s planning to let someone else win so he doesn’t have to be on the city council anymore because he actually hates local politics.

only there’s this asshole in university who decides to run obi-wan’s re-election campaign because he’s trying to sleep with a political science TA and he thinks she’ll be impressed if he shows an interest in local politics by doing some grassroots voting door to door work for his community service credits…..and he chooses obi-wan to support at random and very nonconsensually

so anakin skywalker becomes the bane of obi-wan kenobi’s existence. obi-wan kenobi becomes the focus of anakin’s.

(obi-wan also becomes an elected official again, mostly because of the bored housewives vote.)

(obi-wan blames this on the fact that while anakin is a very horny intense nineteen year old, he’s also surprisingly effective with his big wet eyes and his obscenely pink lips. anakin blames this on the televised debates he scheduled between obi-wan and fellow councilor maul, where obi-wan’s eyebrows are drawn and he looks furious and his shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing his very nicely defined forearms.)

(they fuck about it.)

[mylittleredgirl]

starting any new medication with intended or unintended mental effects is so weird. it’s not exactly like waking up with a whole new brain but it definitely feels like my mind got reformatted. this latest nervous system one is doing some what it’s supposed to physically (thank god) but it’s definitely doing… something to my thinking patterns and emotional responses. i’m not sure what. it has some overlap with the symptoms of an early manic upswing in the sense that the “regard for consequences” segment of my brain is sending an out-of-office message, so i thought it was that at first, but that’s definitely not it. but. something.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

i feel like the fact that regulus literally had a do not enter unless you have the explicit permission of i sign on his door and i feel like that says enough about him in itself

[isawthismeme]

The weird sheep are at it again!

[heartual]

had such a good experience with surgery today i can’t even fully explain

[callixton]

look martha has been my fave companion of the past almost ten years so obv having my little hyperfixation reignited is going to bring back my love for her too but it’s exacerbated by so many people being so wrong about her and her season. i would love to venture into the wider fandom instead of the five people i trust w her but every time i do that i am disappointed :(

[dreamwinged]

to be so honest im starting to think i really need to see a professional for my social anxiety