#and they still love her

[kindofsortofmaybe]

do you ever think about how amity blight was raised in an abusive household and often didn’t get along with her siblings and had fake friends and treated people poorly because that’s all she knew how to do because that’s how she was treated. and do you think about how she still came out of that with the capacity and willingness to do good and improve herself and mend the mistakes she made, and how she and her siblings were able to become close and look out for each other even though they were pitted against each other, and how amity’s first really good relationship was with willow park as children and now she has the chance to have that friendship again and she found those people that don’t make her feel like everything is an opportunity to prove herself and she can breathe a little and she can love people again, she can love people again, she can love her siblings and her best friend willow park and her goofy human luz, and she can love this weird kid named gus that she never really knew but now she gets to and he’s like a little brother and she likes feeling like a big sister, and she can love hunter, this boy who grew up a lot like her and is on the same kind of path towards healing and she can love him like a brother because they just understand each other and when she loves him she remembers that she can love herself. if she can love someone who made a lot of the same mistakes that she did then she can love herself. and do you think about how amity blight has so much potential for interesting dynamics with every other character in the show. do you think about how she is one of the most beautiful and hopeful stories in the owl house because she’s all about love. and hope. and redemption. and receiving grace. do you ever just think about amity blight

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[bellwethers]

Tough.

[frejs-froggy-artblog]

I get to draw Sidon and Link again in the year of our lord 2023

[abd-appleboxdog]

I love these fools so much. I hope in the end they stay together or keep in touch. I heart them its like the dad who didn’t want a cat but loves the cat

[watchingwisteria]

listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded psychopath happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[may12324]

Karlach Cliffgate- fire of my heart

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Circus baby or not, she’s still Michael’s little sister,,

[artharakka]

“Äiti itki. Isä lähti huoneesta. Vivian istui nurkassa ja kuunteli vaiti. Kissamme Minni hyppäsi vuoteelle ja käpertyi jalkojeni päälle ja kehräsi, sillä kehräämällä parannetaan sairaita.” — Emmi Itäranta. Kuunpäivän kirjeet

“Mom cried. Dad left the room. Vivian sat in the corner and listened quietly. Our cat Minni jumped on the bed and curled up on my legs and purred, for through purring the sick are healed.” — Emmi Itäranta. The Moonday Letters. Quote tranlated by me (unofficial)

[bluegiragi]

negotiations.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[chikkenhawke]

enraptured by the shape of this beast 🐣

get stickers etc -> here

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

They live in my head rent free. Drop your headcanons in the reblogg tags

[nenayaquisieras]

my brain is saying 141 with a reader that sees dead people. like they notice how respectful she is to the dead. when she kills she moves the bodies, sometimes says a small prayer to herself. they see her looking at things that aren’t there. “Did you see that? Never mind.” or she mentions she feels something weird in the air, or something wrong. talks to the team about the sleep paralysis she gets, always leaving out the grayish dark figure that accompanies her on those nights.

She’s never told anyone until she got drunk enough to were she’s literally laughing saying

“oh yea i see dead people.” And the guys obv think she’s joking and egg her on about said dead people she sees. but then she tells them about the entities that follow them, the people they’ve killed, always following them around. some are very angry, she feels their malicious intentions. ends up describing them in grave detail, they way they looked, what they wore, the last words they spoke before her teammates pulled the trigger. Something that only THEY would know.

“oh man, let me tell you about Gilbert my sleep paralysis demon. I swear he’s been visiting me more and more recently.”

[stil-lindigo]

scorched earth.

a comic about a princess who died in a fire.

(this is a sequel to bite of winter, a comic about Snow and what became of her after her death.)

--

creative notes:

--

all my other comics

store

[beebeedibapbeediboop]

The fact that my oc is already four years old...She looks so different now!