So recently...I got a Venus flytrap. And I absolutely love them to bits. I was so happy to FINALLY get rid of the flys, but after searching a bit about them I learned that unfortunately they die off after they close multiple times.
So of course I'm devastated by this. That my pretty baby's are ganna die sooner than I thought.. BUT on the contrary, it has given me a new Willow headcanon.
------
So what if like one day... Luz and co. go to the store or smth. (Mabey a Menards, we're I got mine😉) And Luz points out the garden area of the store, and ofc Willow immediately perks up and drags Amity or one of the them over to it.
And then she just SEES these fricken CUTE LITTLE PLANTS WITH TEETH?! And like they eat bugs TOO!?
Girl freaks.
Full on fan-girl mode.
She would probably buy the littlest one, as I truly believe she would be happier to raise it on her own, and like just giggle. Cooing to it in the cutest way while saying VERY unsettling things. (And no ofc I did not do this too them when I first saw them)
And then Hunter and Gus just peek over her shoulder in confusion.
Of course Camila buys it for her, very happy the girl is smiling brightly again. And on the way home Willow is clutching the traps in her hands, so terrified their ganna break.
Oh and Hunter would definitely be helping reading the directions, and how much water and sunlight it needs, ect.
So daily, and mabey even more than that, she checks up on them. Even going as far to catch bugs herself and feed them with a tweezers.
And then just one morning, when the sun is shining, Flapjacks are singing, a scream is heard.
Now, everyone is fucking terrified. I mean ofc they are. And so when they all notice Willows empty sleeping bag..Hunter's the first out the door.
And all of them including Camila, are just bounding down the stairs, tripping each other in the process, trying to find there beloved Willow.
And they all just kinda stop when they see her knelt down right by the windowsill.
"Willow? Are you okay?"
Hunter's the first to speak, totting up to her worriedly, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.
And then she just looks up to him in absolute tears, holding her beloved Venus flytraps in her hands..
Oh.
And before the poor boy could speak, she flung her self at him developing him into probably a bone crushing hug.
Hunter let out a choked gasp, stiffing at the contract. But just as he was about to ease into her soft touch, she pulled away immediately. Sniffling, she wiped her nose on her arm sleeve.
"Im- I'm sorry Hunter, I didn't mean to I just got a little upset about-"
Her panicked gaze drifting to his eye before looking down in the floor in shame. But just as she, herself was about to respond with more apologies, she felt arms wrap around her.
"It's okay...it's not your fault." He would mutter, placing his head onto of hers.
Tears started to well up in her green orbs once more, before returning the hug, griping his sweatshirt. Small sobs escaped the witch, in wich hunter responded by running a soothing hand along her back, not caring how soaked his favorite sweatshirt would be after this.
-----
Look I'm not much of a writer but I love making headcanons.
And im sure everyone is confused as to why our strong and brave Willow is so upset about her plants?
Well it's simple really.
On her 14th birthday her father's got her a Venus Fly trap. Now take I to consideration on how a BOILING ISLES VENUS FLYTRAPS LOOK LIKE. NGL BUT THEY GOTTA LOOK LIKE THIS.
Anyways..I'm guessing she always wanted one when she was little, thinking that it's a great solution for her bug investigation. ( Oh god Clover-🐝)
But ofc, being in the abomination track her father's declined. So like when she finally got it she was probably so happy!! And the memories of her father's doing this for her?? Like come on.
So ofc she would be so happy to see a Little version of her baby's. But the guilt in seeing them die- like that's probably ganna hit her hard, and to think she can't even keep these alive how on earth will hers live, even after how much her father's paid for one!
So she's afraid. She's scared. She scared for her plants. She's scared for her FATHER'S.
So yeah, she broke because some stupid plants died..the same thing that reminds her of her father's back home.
52 notes
·
View notes
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.
18K notes
·
View notes
Why do you bother editing? You’re no good at it anyways - Haha loswer
If you’re going to call me a name, at least spell it right. Just because you feel unhappy with your life doesn’t mean you should take it out on others. I am content calling myself an editor, and I’m happy with the way I edit and that’s all that matters. I am open to suggestions, but not to hate. Please take your negative energy somewhere else, I don’t need it. I like to stay happy with my blog and editing and thats all that matters.
Even so, I do wish you happiness. I hope you deal with your negative emotions and overcome what you are going through, I truly do.
Cheers,
Me
1 note
·
View note