#small town small mind

[the-east-art]

Not sure if I’ll finish this haha

[wolfsnooze]

in which hunter’s possession goes a whole lot worse

[pratchettquotes]

"It's not staying in the same place that's the problem," said Nanny, "it's not letting your mind wander."

Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

[a-timely-problem]

Overheard at the BAU

Emily, big city girl visiting JJ's hometown: "are there like, any poisonous animals here?"

JJ: "Oh no, at least nothing that will kill you super quickly"

Emily, loading her bags back into the car: "THAT'S NOT THE REASSURANCE YOU THINK IT IS!"

[spurgie-cousin]

has anyone else seen the show Somebody Somewhere on MAX??

i got into it right before it's final season started and what a hidden gem omfg. not only an amazing and hopeful and unstereotypical depiction of queer folks of all flavors in rural America, but also approaches the nuances of that so uniquely. like one gay character is an unapologetic Christian who struggles with finding their place in small town American churches, another is a transmasc high school Ag teacher that advises local farmers, and idk it just appreciates the little ways queer folks participate in their communities, no matter how small, in a way that I haven't seen on TV before but have experienced irl.

it's great and funny and almost too realistic sometimes, highly recommend for straights and gays and city or small town folks alike.

[thedolmainblog]

you know arts going well when you start drawing smth completely unrelated

[clowncarousel]

First raffle prize for @demonicnarwhale ! Of Die and her oc HK in the process of sorting out a misunderstanding (no Die she wasn't planning on killing you.)

[theunholyvirginemilyprentiss]

JENNIFER JAREAU | teen aesthetic.

— small-town soccer princess

Check out my Masterlist for more aesthetic boards

[spotaus]

The Maskmaker (New Age AU Drabble)

Hiiiii. So, this isn't very long and doesn't do Nightmare or N enough justice, but I wrote this a while ago and my lovely pals looked at me w/ big ol' eyes on my post about posting it, sooooo!!! Here it is!!

This is shortly after Night's coronation and follows Ancha's drabble regarding Ccino + his remaining by Night's side!

   These halls. They were cold. Colder than the rest of the castle.

   Nightmare only knew, thanks to the gentle puff of steam left by his shallow breaths as he stepped down the corridor. The dark, long, corridor.

   He couldn't feel it. No. His sense of warmth and cold had faded almost instantly after eating the apple. The nervous chill in his core had been replaced with a luke-warm air. Like a puddle left after a summer rain. The chill couldn't reach him.

   Still, he wore his cloak. One which Ccino had tailored not a week ago because he feared Nightmare would feel bare without it. His old one used to keep him warm. Ccino was right, of course. Purposeless or not, the new heavy fabric kept him centered. Covered the restless twitching of his tendrils as he spoke with the few he could bring himself to communicate with since the incident.

  

   Now, it's bottom hem was suspended away from the old floors, just barely, by his extra limbs.

   His steps were silent, he wasn't sure when that had begun, but he imagined in this darkness no one would know he was there at all until the Cyan of his eyelight was turned upon them.

   He approached the door. Finally reaching the ornate, carved surface he'd visited only once before. When he and Dream were young. Nim had ordered them to come alone and let the mask-maker measure them. So they'd know when time came for them to commission their own masks. They didn't have to come down, the mask-maker already knew their measurements. They always did.

   His knuckles hovered away from the door. With its carving of that tree, swirling and dancing in the low light his eyelight provided. This space held more lingering emotions than he'd expected. His hand trembled a bit.

   No. He couldn't chicken out. He couldn't go crying, this was important to him. It was his right. It was... the least he could do.

   His fist connected with the door, twice, steadily. The loud sound echoed into the space behind him, and he stood. Prepared to face heckling and anger abd fear, for he wasn't sure the mask maker even knew of his rise to the throne. He hadn't been there, after all. At the ceremony.

   The door swung inward, and... Nightmare found hinself staring down at a monster.

   This monster... was not the one whom he remembered.

   Before, when he was young, he recalled a large, imposing monster. Heavy clay hands that held the pristine masks so carefully. Kind eyes which skimmed sorrowful past him, and handed him that lovingly carved owl mask. The one made simply out of dark wood.

   Now, the monster stood before him, leaning in the doorframe, was not that monster. This one was slightly shorter than him, stocky in the shoulders, and bundled in layers of cloaks and gloves. Their face hid behind the mask of some sort of rabbit, bright, burning lights behind the eye-holes were a soft lavender and blue. Only a lashing tail gave away their species. A skeleton varient.

   "Mask-maker." He greeted, composure renewed.

   The monster blinked, before they widened the door a bit more. A wave of amusement and excitement washed over Nightmare, and he thought he might be sick from just how potent it was.

   "Ah, my King!" They exclaimed, and Nightmare could almost hear the smile in their tone. "I wasn't expecting you so soon after your whole coronation, come in!"

   They darted away from the door, allowing Nightmare to see past them. The room beyond was as he remembered. The large sets of work-benches, suspended candles, piles upon piles of wood. Masks lined every inch of the walls, though now he could see newer ones piling up along shelves and along the stations.

   The monster seemed to round to a large chair, much too oversized for them, and plop down into it. Nightmare drifted inside, closing the door behind him carefully.

   "You royals only come down to see me for masks, that is my job though," They mused. "Or, well, that's what my mentor always said."

   Nightmare drew closer to the opposite side of the table which now separated them. He could see the messy, amalgamated surface of a partially-completed work laying between them. The wood mangled and frayed not unlike torn flesh.

   "I must ask," He knew he had other business and little time, but, "Who are you, mask maker? My mother never mentioned a change in position."

   It would be just his luck that a fraud would be hidden here in the depths. Though, the emotions were simply so delighted. They swirled about, as though every flick of their tail sent another ripple through the air.

   A giggle erupted from behind their mask.

   "Oh, I think I like you already, my king!" They said happily, "Mask-makers have never been asked such a thing by the royals! We have always been known to retire and pass on the mantel without care from you folks."

   They divulged the information so easily, but Nightmare didn't recieve the answer he had asked for. It took a few more breaths before they spoke again.

   "My name is N, my King. Call me as you see fit, I change as easily as replacing my mask." They finally admitted. "King Nim visited me once, two years ago, only to inform me her prince may quickly approach after his coronation. Though, I'm sure you're not the one she meant?"

   Nightmare withheld the hiss which desperately wanted to bubble up in his throat. His tendrils whipped about in frustration. Guilt. Of course they were expecting Dream. He'd figured as much.

   "No matter. I am here to serve my king, and that king is you, my good sir." They dipped their head a bit, "So, what is it you'd like me to carve? A noble wolf? A regal ibis? Something fitting a consort or-"

   "None of that." Nightmare cut them off, his good socket narrowing in disgust. The thought made his stomach churn.

   He thought he'd have to wait for her to speak up again, but found they had quieted and were seemingly awaiting information.

   "My... head of house. Recently promoted as of my ascension." He said, slower. He wouldn't get worked up again, "He deserves only the best, and I know you understand this well."

   N seemed to smile beneath the mask again, their eyelights hidden in thin crescent slits.

   "Describe away, my king!" They exclaimed, reaching out for a scrap of paper.

   Nightmare remembered how he'd been taught. To describe the mask with intention. Feelings and thoughts tucked away into each and every word. Those were supposed to be insightful for the mask-maker. To guide their hand as they carved.

   "This mask. I would like it to be the Visage of a cat. Well-kept, clean, orderly." He spoke, gently, drawing his eye away from the table and to the plain floor were nothing would influence his thought. "A kind face, soft. Trustworthy and bold. Clever. Warm."

   Nightmare wasn't sure what came over him. Descriptions and feelings tumbled from his jaws for what felt like ages. By the time he finished, his throat was raw with emotion. His hands clutched the inside of his cloak like a life-line.

   It was the tapping of N's charcoal stick to her desk which alerted Nightmare. Made his eyelight snap back up to her position.

   Though, she'd already put her sketch down and was up and across the room. Tugging at her piles and piles of enchanted and imported woods. For being a stationary monster, they had strength to move the wood with ease.

   "You've given me the perfect working material, my King! This mask should be done in four-days time." They assured him, not turning around.

   Their emotions read as elation now. A pure, unadulterated joy at the... the way Nightmare had described his mask? He could only imagine his magic intent had something to do with it. Ccino would, hopefully, understand.

   Oh!

   "The mask. You are aware who it is for?" He questioned.

   N hummed, before popping away from the stack of wood with a nice chunk of white-ish wood. It reminded Nightmare of cooked fish flesh, a pristine off-white with an intricate pattern.

  

   "I can only imagine it's that guy? Ccino? Good for him with the promotion, by the way. I'm sure he had his fair share of struggles to get there." N replied.

   Nightmare gave a minute nod. He hated that he had a heavy suspicion as to why N already knew Ccino by name. Nefarious plans set by his mother yet again. Bastard woman.

   He debated staying longer. Watching N strip the bark away or making smalltalk.

   In the end, it was better to leave. His hands were still shaking and his gut felt like it'd spill if he felt one more overwhelming emotion from the craftsman he was standing with. So, he bid them a farewell, promised to return in four days time, and exited from that heavy wooden door.

   The trip would be worth it so long as N delivered. And she would.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Archery Science Professor at the Vulcan Institute of Defensive Arts [Patreon | Commissions]

[demonicnarwhale]

AND WHEN I GOOGOO ON MY LADY GAGA ra ra ra-ah -aAhá part 1

[jjcocker]

his ass WOULD pirate the shit out of nintendo if he was real

[eboneeblak]

Moodboard for my next short story “Baptism by Fire” a southern religious horror.

Logline: Set in 1954, 14 year old Edith Mae is believed to be possessed, left in a state of decay, Edith must conspire with her own demons in order to escape her captivity and looming death.

Will be dropping soon!

[gothictravelguide]

The Percolator. Lawrence, Kansas

January 2025

[mamawasatesttube]

are there any precrisis comics where lana lang has an actual personality other than "pining after clark forever" (and im not rly interested in rebirth just giving her sharon vance's powers 💀) because for the love of god i am so tired of triangle era lana. man

[srwgrin]

“he’s good at taking care of himself. always has been.”

the parentification of jonathan byers hits SO hard, like, can you tell he doesn’t know how to not be needed? because he just has this complete inability to not be needed. he’s so used to dismissing his problems for bigger issues, so used to a life where they’re constantly stressed and struggling and having to step up that once he doesn’t need to anymore (season four) because they’re in a better place financially and will is growing up without him, he spirals. because the system he used to justify everything, to survive, that helped him and his family stay afloat, is no longer working and he can’t ignore his problems, not when there’s no longer a bigger issue to deal with. he starts ignoring college, running away from his family, from nancy, from reality, starts throwing away the things he wants, starts doing weed all the time, stops doing the things he loves, stops picking up his camera, and that’s depression, right there, and he doesn’t even know it. he starts becoming the worse parts of his parents (and he’ll never become his father because he’s too fundamentally good for that but does he know that?), lying and not being there and being too much and not enough at the same time. and he just doesn’t know how to not be needed because it’s his entire purpose. he doesn’t know who he is anymore without it. there’s no point in keeping him around if he’s not needed. no point at all.