Pluckedchicken - The Chicken Man

I swear I am so normal about this

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No I'm not.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS BEEN 300 YEARS!? YOU EXPECT ME TO JUST ACCEPT THAT THEY'VE BOTH BEEN LIVING THINKING THE OTHER IS DEAD FOR 300 YEARS!?

Also, I know we've seen it previously in the comic, but I just love that Sulivan's decorations are the same sorta yellow as the wheat in Deaths fields.

I know the first arc just ended, but I am already so excited for the next arc. I am sooooo looking forward to seeing how Raziol handled his newfound immortality and the.... quirks that came with it for the past 3 centuries.

Btw, the comic is a bl webcomic called Novae, set in 1600s France. It includes lots of magic and supernatural creatures and I definitely recommend anyone and everyone to give it a read. You can read it for free on webtoon, or at novaecomic.com , or you can support their patreon.

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

Lillium has thoughts about his new roommate

[Characters from CTC]

Ooh! Your project seems totally cool, and I'd love to join, but is having Ao3 required?

Thank you!! I’m really glad you love it and maybe even wanna join it, but absolutely no Ao3 or even Tumblr account is required! The project itself—once we get to posting it—will be on one of my—Camila’s—existing Ao3 accounts so there is no need for it there, and including your socials/contact info to find you in other places is completely optional so you can completely choose what to include! So… yeah, an Ao3 account is absolutely not necessary!

“Home is where the trees look normal” is the sweetest, saddest, most nostalgic truth I’ve ever heard.

not to sound traumatized, but it feels unreal that someone can just miss you and want you around so often. I feel like every worry within me keeps repeating, “until when? until when?” and the people I love and that love me confirm, “as long as you’d like.”

I Wish for Liberation

I sit in the dark, my thoughts a storm of fragments, and I wish, not with the innocence of a child but with the bitter clarity of experience, that you would feel the weight of every wound you gave.

do you know the sharp sting of betrayal, the cruel echo of a lie, the loneliness that wraps around the heart like a shroud?

I want you to know the hollow ache of waiting, the gnawing uncertainty that burrows deep, the sleepless nights stretched out in their endless, aching expanse.

I want the weight of your own choices to press down on you, heavy and relentless, until you understand the pressure that drove me to despair, until you feel a trace of my sorrow settling like dust in your own empty spaces.

you, who sculpted misery with your hands, who wielded cruelty like a blade, are you aware of the echoes you left? do you hear them whisper in your dreams, the ache you wove so effortlessly into my days?

i could wish for storms to ravage your calm, for the sky to crack open with lightning that rends the fabric of your peace, for the tremors of regret to shake your foundation.

yet, even as I wish this, I realize that suffering does not heal, that the flames of revenge only scorch the hands that wield them.

so, instead, I let the weight of my sorrow settle, a quiet confession to the universe that sometimes I crave for the scales to tip,

for the pain to be known, but mostly,

I wish for liberation, for the shackles of my anger to fall away, and for a heart that no longer clings to the shadows of the past.

so I let the wish drift, a bitter gust of wind that fades into the void, and I turn away, searching for a release from this desire, for a way to mend the broken pieces without adding more shards to the world’s already jagged heart.

S.T. 2024

santa rosalia by roberto ferri(1978) oil on canvas

the shepherd david by elizabeth bouguereau(1895)

dancers by franz von stuck(1896)

perseus slaying medusa by laurent-honore marqueste(1903)

via indiarosecrawford

Frog Paints a Water Lily Pond 🪷🎨🐸

𝑓ₒᵣ ⲕᵢ𝑛𝑔 ₐ𝑛𝑑 𝑐ₒ𝑡𝑡ₐ𝑔ₑ

THIS

[Image ID: Screenshot of a repost from kelpforrest depicting tags reading "I refuse to be mocking towards any generation but especially younger ones. I will not become a hateful old fuck." End ID]

I must not mock Gen Alpha. Mocking Gen Alpha is the mind killer. Mocking Gen Alpha is the little-death that brings total generational solidarity obliteration. I will engage with Gen Alpha lovingly. I will permit them to be cringe. And when they grow up I will turn my eye to their accomplishments. Where mocking has gone there will be nothing. Only generational solidarity remains

I used to have public sex all the time. Back in the 90s there was no internet or after school programs for lgbtq kids. We'd go up bull tail holler and on the back side of the reservoir there was a rundown poorly maintained picnic pavilion and playground and that's where all the queers that weren't old enough to go to the one gay bar in the county I lived in would hang out. And it was colloquially called queer holler in fact. It was in the holler right next to the mall so you could just have your parents drop you at the mall or catch the bus if you lived in town. We'd hangout there and have sex and make out and what have you. Every now and then the law would raid it and wouldn't you know the kids and young adults they could round up would be charged with public indecency and contributing to the delinquency of minors because 18 is 18 and other public sex charges. Of course in the process you would be outed to your parents and if you were over 18 you got your name printed in the newspaper in the police blotter which is fun (not really). So yeah I'm all in favor of legalizing public sex. Because though we've came a long way there are still a lot of queer youth who have no where to fuck their partner and being labeled as a sex offender shouldn't be a consequence of doing what millions of cishet teenagers and young adults do all the time.