#the road forever long

[logarithmicpanda]

Who's a good boy? <3

Thanks @beebeedibapbeediboop for your amazing work 🥰

Ombres are creatures from Heart of Stone, they can have a variety of appearances but are recognizable by the combination of visible bones, blue fire in the eye sockets, and flowers growing out of their bodies!

They do not prey on humans but close contact can cause one to be severely cursed...

[the-road-forever-long]

The Road Forever Long is an adult high fantasy series currently being written by @logarithmicpanda

#0.5 Velvet Hand, Iron Glove (short story, 7k, years 576 to 582) needs another draft but in decent state

For years, all Roena has known is war against the Mad King. Everything changes when Igrid, a priestess of Kalla, joins the battlefield.

#1 Heart of Stone (novel, 171k, years 1853 to 1856) second draft done, needs a third draft

Rae is 19 and she feels stuck in her small village. No one understands her passion for magic - artefacts are useful tools, but no one cares how they work. When she is admitted into Kotburg's highly competitive Conservatory, at the other end of the country, Rae thinks she will finally be where she belongs. But people from the big city don't think she has what it takes to succeed, and the Conservatory is full of dangerous secrets no one acknowledges.

#2 ??? (novel, years 1856 to ?) at the sticky notes stage lol

#2.5 The Price of Wonder (short novel, years 804 to ?) being outlined and drafted!

Before Elaine ever dreams of building the Conservatory, she is a young mage who wants to change the world. She meets Amaris, who promptly informs her of what a fraud she is - but eventually they have to join forces against the Inquisition.

[lucabyte]

Not all who wander are lost. Some who wander, however, are extremely, extremely lost.

[la5pampy]

Tw: blood (just a bit)

HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY! :D to the wondeful fic by @bubbiethesaur

I cannot recommend this fic enought, it’s so well written and has got me in a choke hold (Lra sun my beloved<33)

(Ok now I’m sprinting to the new chap)

[voidedjuice]

Ilta had her timeloop troubles even before meeting Cecily

[squiddcakes]

The chucklefucks <3

I haven’t drawn these two in a while and wanted to see how different they look since then. They look relatively the same, my art style’s just improved lol

For those unaware these two were made for a “fake game” zine that got cancelled— but I got so attached to them and the concept that I kept them around. The premise is that an anxiety-ridden college student gets haunted by the demonic spirit of a dead rockstar and the two work together to win Vee concert tickets to her favorite artist, “Von Bomba”, while also figuring out the mysterious circumstances around Andi’s death.

At some point in time I’ll get to covering their story, but for now you get one off illustrations and concept art !!! 💥

[bubbiethesaur]

Hi! hope you're doing well<3

I was wondering if we could possibly have a sneak peek of the new chapter?

No pressure ofc! Feel free to completely ignore this ask👍

Love your writing!! Have a great day/night!!

The second I saw your ask I about exploded because I was traveling home from a trip and didn't have access to my laptop. BUT I'm home now and I would heckin' love to show a sneak peak for LRA chapter 19. (tis unedited, so please forgive any typos)

(Btw I flipping love giving sneak peaks, crumbs, answering questions, etc) Beware ch. 19 spoilers below the cut

You were home. Or close to it, at least.

A familiar dirt road lay under your feet—dusty and full of rocks and hoof prints—a path you’d driven hundreds of times and knew better than your own face. It wound like a clay-crafted snake up and away into the hills, between scrubby oak full of glistening leaves blown gold in the sunshine, pines wider than you were tall and needles longer than your hands stretching up and up into the sky. 

Your gaze lingered on the ditches lining the road and the thick forest beyond, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize what was missing from the picture—the fences. As far as you could see, there wasn’t an inch of scruffy white fence to be seen. Not even a bit of tangled chicken wire. Just road and wood and a rich summer blue sky so huge and blue you could almost drown in it.  

Maybe it was the dust or heat of the sun, but there was a haziness to the view. Like it was all just a painted landscape that an artist had smeared with a careless brush of the hand.

As you stared, something stuck between your ribs. It was all so familiar, so beautiful, that it hurt—like a dulled knife between your rib bones—deep and painful. Throbbing. 

Closing your eyes, you inhaled warm air full of dust, spice-tinged pine, the sweet-sourness of undergrowth—and the ache bloomed.

You’d missed this place.

A dull thump-tha-thump caught your ears, bone-dry grass rustling, and your heart skipped. But your shoulders relaxed as a familiar tan and white dappled mare tromping out from under the cool shade of a tree. You popped over the ditch lining the road at once.

“Hi there, Daisy,” you muttered softly. Hot breath puffed over your palms, grassy and thick with heat. She snuffled loudly into your hand, gumming at your skin. “Sorry, old girl. I don’t have any treats on me.”

She snorted and shook her head, faded blonde man flickering like strands of wheat in the sun.

You stroked a hand down her neck, patches of tan and marshmallow white. She felt so warm, big doe-eyes peering at you beneath long lashes.

Sighing, you buried your hand in her thick mane, careful not to pull as coarse strands slipped between your fingers. The sensation didn’t ground you as much as you would have liked. You felt so alone, the bitter taste of dirt and iron dripping between your teeth. 

A branch snapped behind you, the crisp crackle of sun-dried grass—like a tiny bird’s bones crunching underfoot. You froze, your pulse thumping in your ears as the sounds grew nearer—too light for a small animal, too loud for Sun or Moon—

“Hey, squirt.”

You stopped breathing.

[bitegore]

fucking hate it when people who are hateful little bigots make posts that are completely irrelevant to the thing that they are hateful cunts about and those posts are actually really good but i know they want me personally actually dead and in the ground so i cant be like Yeah

[floral-hex]

woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.

[femadjecent]

I saw one (1) image of trans girl mob and now I Know she’s a transbian.

(Transcribing my crap handwriting:

Reigen (o/s): Have you thought of a new name?

Mob: I didn’t think I needed to change my name…

Reigen: You don’t really have to. It’s your life remember? )

[yu3s]

[logarithmicpanda]

Thank you @viridializard for your always amazing work 💜 you always manage to capture exactly what I had in mind for my characters 🥰

Meet Mahin! A 17 years-old street urchin whose life is going to take a dramatic turn when Amaris and Elaine pick her up ...

[wallisninety-six]

The Bittersweet Tragedy- and Triumph of The Beach Boys' "Sunflower" (1970)

Pet Sounds and the collapse of Smile in 1967 is often seen by mainstream critics and some fans alike as *the* defining moment where The Beach Boys lost the script, lost their knack for quality album-making and started a creative downward spiral for the band and Brian Wilson himself. Things *were* far from rosy, but this is also far from true. In reality, that exact moment occurred with the release, and total chart failure of Sunflower in 1970.

The truth is that Brian, while definitely ceding his leadership role slowly, was still writing tons of music for the band and remained heavily involved (with the exception of the album 20/20 in 1969, when he was in a psychiatric hospital) with the creation & production process of the band's albums from 1967-1970, and Sunflower was no exception. This time though, he wasn't alone.

Since Brian had taken a firm leadership role since the band's early days and practically cemented his position with Pet Sounds & Smile- the group's unease with his direction grew, tensions rose considerably, and infighting at times got really heated- and after Smile's collapse, the rest of the group emerged to slowly & gradually offer their songwriting talents and make music more as a collective than ever before. Although very fragmented- 20/20 represented a new peak for the band actually working *as* a band together.

With the band in a severe amounts of debt, depressed, struggling to find their footing in a practical power vacuum, plus submitting album after album to their new labels (with nearly 40 tracks) and having them constantly be rejected- the fact that Sunflower exists as it does is nothing short of a miracle. Not less because the Boys- even if it was for a fleeting moment, found harmony and could work together effectively as a true collective, making a unanimous statement about the power of music and love, each in their own way. It's seen by some as the band's Abbey Road, and it's not hard to see why.

Each and *every* single member showed off their music chops and in their own way- with so many moods and feelings, a variety of vocalists plus different (and even groundbreaking) instrumentals. The stars aligned for this extremely hard-fought and incredibly genuine album. But it wasn't enough.

When it was released, critics liked the album fine enough, but most questioned the need for anyone to listen to the Beach Boys anymore, throwing them to the wayside. Sunflower *peaked* at 151 at the Billboard 200, their worst showing ever at that time- *this* was the defining moment that started the downward spiral.

Just like with Pet Sounds, Brian was absolutely devastated by the commercial failure & lukewarm response of Sunflower- only now his psyche was much more damaged and rattled than it was in 1966, and he retreated further and further away from the band, famously staying in bed for over 2 years, overeating and abusing drugs, and barely appearing in later albums until 1976, and even then he wasn't as involved thanks to the extremely toxic relationship between him and his abusive, controlling "therapist" Eugene Landy.

The rest of the band started to drift apart in a major way, with acrimonious and even extremely bitter tensions hitting a fever pitch- with individual members traveling to concerts *separately* and with Carl Wilson being the one single thread that kept the band from completely collapsing. Fellow Beach Boy Bruce Johnston would leave the band in 1972 and wouldn't return many years later. Dennis Wilson would chart out his own solo career, but his promising rise was tragically cut short by drug & alcohol issues that would eventually kill him in 1983. Carl Wilson- the youngest member, would die from lung cancer in 1998 at only 51 years old, and the band completely fractured virtually for good. Creative and fully collaborative songwriting would end as the band became an oldies act cashing in on their past success.

Sunflower has seen a bit of a resurgence since around the 2000s, not only slowly but surely becoming a cult classic with a devoted following, but it's also finally received recognition from the types of major publications that once shunned it (and the band)- with the likes of Rolling Stone, The Guardian, and AV Club ranking it as one of the greatest albums ever made. Perhaps the biggest tragedy is that the rest of the band members' individual hard work and legitimate talents for music weren't recognized for decades- and for Carl and Dennis Wilson, they never would in their lifetimes.

The history before and after Sunflower makes the listening experience much more emotional and incredibly bittersweet- not less because it still feels so tragically timeless and genuine- the band came out of some of the darkest years of their life to make an incredibly gorgeous work of love. Unlike many of their much later albums, there was more of a broad, positive reception to Sunflower among the band members- with lifelong rivals Brian Wilson and Mike Love coming together in agreement to sing it's praises.

It just wasn't made for it's time- but with the band members getting older and as the past fades away, it's about time to give it a shot, and realize (as much as i admire him) that The Beach Boys was not just Brian Wilson- it was filled to the brim with talent, and that even in the darkest times, setting aside differences and working together can truly create something beautiful.

[sectoralchromatics]

worst case scenario happened guys .... this fuck ass typhoon is not going into the mountains. it is going STRAIGHT directly into where i live AFJDLSJALKFJL😭the rain will hit my city THIS MIDNIGHT.

[kpthedruid]

adding "right where you left me" to my suvi playlist after this last episode...

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 4: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should offer the Well Creature some bread and soup ….

"Completely unsure how to even begin to interact with the strange creature from the well, The Adventurer recalls reading in a book once that 'food is a universal language', or uh.. something like that.. thus, some hearty soup and bread would surely bridge any communication barriers... probably. He serves the little cannister of broth cold, straight from his bag just dumped into a wooden bowl, mostly because he's far too nervous to try and start a fire with someone watching.. hopefully they won't mind the food not being warmed..

After gently placing a single bread roll next to the soup, he steps back, gesturing towards the meal with an uncertain smile. The creature pauses, sniffs around, then promptly disappears back into the darkness. Just as The Adventurer begins to sulk over his apparent rejection, something stirs behind him... With a rush of creaking and plopping noises, the creature resurfaces, revealing it's massive serpent-like body as it hoists itself over the crumbled stone of the well's edge with it's many arms. It cracks open it's mighty jaw just far enough for a tiny blue tongue to slither out, then politely slurps at the soup, delicate enough not to spill any.

Stumbling backwards in shock, The Adventurer simply sits there staring the entire time whilst the creature happily (and rather quickly) enjoys their meal... Seemingly appreciative of his kind offerings, another strange slinking arm creeps up from the depths of the well, daintily opening a velvet sack with it's claws and laying out a small assortment of items onto the grass. Still a bit shaken, but also never one to turn down a free gift, The Adventurer senses that the creature intends for him to take any single item of his choosing... but, which one?"