#because I won't be doodling that often again for another year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

icedmetaltea · 5 months

Note

I've been feeling discouraged about my art recently. Could you possibly give me some tips?

Ok I wanna preface this by saying I am by no means a professional or even "good" artist, BUT I shall try!

These are all tips by a digital artist so I can't help much when it comes to other forms

This got long so under the cut, 20 ART TIPS TIME LETS GOOO

1.Try to draw most days, or at least once a week. The more often the better BUT I don't mean like hardcore, a complex drawing every single day (recipe for burnout right there). I mean like even just 30 seconds of SOMETHING. You can draw shapes, maybe fill a page with circles. There are programs u can find online that give you like a min to sketch something and challenge yourself in a really short time frame. Guess what?? When you draw often you're building those neural pathways (I think) and the more you do it the easier it'll get

2. Don't obsess over making stuff look perfect on the first draft... or at all. I recommend making a "draft" layer or 2... or 3 over the initial sketch. The more you go over it and change stuff, the better it'll be. Also, If you spend hours on it and still hate it?? Who cares! You put in the work and now you have an idea out on paper that you can go over some time in the future and improve if you chose to.

3. DON'T DELETE STUFF!!! Unless it's literally just mindless scribbles, save everything you draw. Like I said, you can go over it again and improve it someday. You can also look back at it in like a year and compare your art to see where you've improved! I deleted all my old art from beyond like a year ago and regret it so much. Don't berate yourself for the stuff you need to work on, be proud of what improvements you've still made

USE REFERENCES!!!!!!! Please just do it, I know it's annoying but I promise it helps so so much

4. Invest drawing tablet, preferably one with buttons that you can map to undo, sketch, fill and such. This will make drawing sooooo much easier (and faster). My quality of art has improved just from drawing the same thing and redoing it like 20 times at a time, and it takes way less time when I can just click a button to do that. It might seem daunting at first but it quickly becomes instinctual. This is the one I got and I'm quite happy with it! It's got good sensitivity, a pen you don't have to replace batteries for or even recharge, and it's mid-range so not wayy too expensive. However, if you're just starting out, I'd recommend this (I got the corded version but I assume it's about the same) since it's small, cheap and you can focus on just learning basics like improving lines n such.

5. Use a bigger canvas size. I started out with 1000x1000, and that's still fine for smaller stuff and doodles, for better quality I recommend bigger sizes. If it's too small it'll look all weird and pixel-y

6. THERE ARE LITERALLY SO MANY FORMS OF ART, maybe the one you're trying just isn't something you vibe with! There's mosaics, digital, traditional (and all the many sub-categories of that), sculpture, photography, etc. All are equally valid and you will improve in your craft if you choose something that 1. you enjoy, 2. are consistent with it!

7. SEGEMENT OUT THE LIMBS drawing DCA stuff for over a year has helped me improve on anatomy sooo much literally just because it forced me to think of each part of a limb in terms of segments, shapes- for instance, instead of an upper arm, I think of a tube which connects to a circle that allows it to rotate and another tube... followed by a weird shape for a hand that connects 5 smaller tubes, whiCH ARE THEN SEPERATED IN TO 3 TUBES EACH. Yes it sounds confusing but breaking it down like that instead of just trying to figure things out helped an absolute shitton

8. Have some kinda hobby that makes you draw frequently. For instance I have a discord sona I draw a new pfp for every month or so. It's a simple design and since the pfp won't show many flaws I can pump out lots of art for it in a small timeframe and I find it relaxing. I've actually improved a shitton just drawing pfps This is one of my first pfps from maybe 2 yrs ago compared with one of my most recent ones

(yes I'm a bit of a furry deal with it) It's cute, there's nothing wrong at all with it! However, you can see how things have changed.

See how the lines are a lot more even, less jagged? The proportions of the shoulders are much wider, the ears aren't just popping out of the hair, the shading makes a bit more sense and isn't just thrown around at random. There's also a broader range of color, with a few bright highlights to catch the eye, colored shading I think as well. The former is just like 3 simple colors. These are all things I learned from drawing pfps consistently.

9. CONSISTENCY IS KEY!! And FUN, if you have fun drawing it'll be a lot easier to do frequently

10. Whether it's drawing pfps, blorbos or landscapes, find something that brings you joy and it'll be MUCH easier to stick to. Draw, draw a lot, do not worry about "good" art and "bad" art cause there's literally no such thing. Compare what you draw now with what you do in like a year or two from now and I promise, if you're consistent, use references and are patient, you WILL amaze yourself with how much you improve.

11. Challenge yourself! Join secret santas (assuming you know you can complete it within the allotted timeframe), draw your friends' sona/ocs (if they're cool with it), do palette challenges, do monthly stuff like drawtober or whatever it's called (BUT I don't recommend doing something every single day for a month cause again, gonna cause mega burnout)

12. Draw when the inspiration comes, it will move your hand. These days I make much better quality art that I'm proud of when I just let inspiration flow through me instead of begrudgingly making myself draw. You shouldn't be forcing yourself!! If you are, you probably are burned out by either drawing too much, feeling a lack of confidence or some other stuff going on irl. Inspiration comes naturally, and when it doesn't it's prolly your mind trying to communicate that something's up. If resting a week or two doesn't help, take a deeper look at your life and see if the artblock is a symptom of something else (for me it's most often depression).

13. At the same time, sometimes you just need to start. Kinda on the previous point of lacking confidence, often we scare ourselves out of even trying. It might feel insurmountable. Nah, try. If all you can do is a wobbly, vague sketch?? You got the idea out!! Start drawing fuckin eyeballs or something, just start. Sometimes the hardest part is just facing a blank canvas and putting a couple lines on it

14. Not all brushes are equal. Some just make drawing easier- at least for me. I dunno the science behind it but when I use my sketch brush (it's got a similar look to pencil) rather than my lineart brush it makes drawings just... look better. Also using thicker lines in general helps. Why?? NO CLUE, maybe thinner ones just show flaws easier or intersect better or something.

15. Music or some other distraction can help, idk why. Some days I like to have a movie/show/podcast going in the background for a mild distraction that keeps me slightly stimulated on other stuff even as I draw- maybe it increases brain activity or??? No idea. Sometimes just listening to music. Sometimes I need total silence. Do what works for you! Give lots of different stuff a try, you may love drawing while listening to a podcast in the background

16. Take breaks!! The pomodoro method works with art as well. Every 25 mins or so, take a 5 min break. Get up, stretch, get some water, maybe watch a yt vid. Call ur friend and tell them you love and cherish them. Then get back to it and you will feel oh so refreshed. After maybe 3 rounds take a 15 min or longer break and then repeat if you still feel like it

17. SLEEP IS INCREDIBLY FUCKING IMPORTANT you will see a deep decline in the quality of your art when you're tired, plus you just feel like shit and art is about feeling good and expressing yourself. Sleep is important, even tho yes I stay up too late drawing most nights, I do my absolute best to get at least 7 hours of sleep every night, as should you!!

18. DO NOT BE SCARED OF STICK FIGURES AND MESSY SKETCHES, they're actually the best way to start bc 1. it's a quick way to get an idea out before you forget it 2. the finished piece will actually look a lot more fluid since you weren't spending all that time obsessing over making the first draft look perfect- which often just makes it look stiff. You can do a whole lot with stick figures. Focus on that good ol' line of action.

19. Random but when drawing the face, I like to first make a circle and then like a "mask" over it for the actual face. For me it just makes sense. Then two lines, one up/down and one left, right, it'll make it easier to align the eyes and ears. In general, the ears usually go where the "mask" begins and just below the left/right line

20. Finally surround yourself with people who encourage you. I grew up in an environment where people would gawk at stuff my sibling drew and ignore me bc they were ~naturally talented~ and it made me not want to draw at all.

Well guess what?? Now that I spend time with people who encourage me and genuinely care about my interest in art I've improved a lot bc I have the motivation, the joy of showing ppl who care about me new pieces. If people in your life aren't encouraging you, or gods forbid insulting your art (excluding constructive criticism that you've explicitly asked for) then TOSS EM OVERBOARD THE BOAT OF LIFE and find people who will treat you with the love and respect you deserve

P.S

This isn't a tip, just a recommendation: Chicory, a colorful tale. It's a game where u play as a cute lil dog who gets a magical paintbrush that lets you color the world. The only issue? You have no ~talent~. My gods, this game struck a cord with me.

Feeling like you don't have any talents that come naturally to you. Being overlooked even when you try your best. Feeling like a complete joke when you try to pick up the brush (or in this case stylus) because there are so many "real" artists and you're not one of them.

Also the things people say and how they can affect you even when not intentional. Damn. It's just a beautiful game. It's made by the same people who made Wandersong, another absolute banger game with a character who is seen as a joke and I cannot recommend them enough.

bonus tip bc why the fuck not: OVERLAYS!!!!!!! In clip paint studio you have all these layer options, I can never memorize what they all do so I just make like an ombre color layer over my base colors and try all of them to see what looks cool

#Answer tag #Metaltea Talks #ref #art tips #long post #*gives anon a thousand tiny cartoon hearts in a bottle*

9 notes · View notes

scrumptiousstrumpet · 2 years

Text

They say never judge a book by its cover but that's how I find the best books. Whenever I go into a book store, been quite a while, or shop on Amazon I always look at the cover first. Something about it catches my eye...the color, a word, an image...something always grabs me. Of course I read the summary and then decide if I want to add it to the growing pile in my arms, use a basket? What are you crazy?! I would have that thing filled to the brim!

I share this little tidbit with you because I am counting down the days for my preorder to come in. One of my most favorite book series, a trilogy, was bought because the cover caught my attention. I got my other bookworm friend into it and we share recommendations back and forth. The author put out hardback copies of the book and signed them but only in limited quantities. Sadly by the time I had gotten around to the trilogy they were all out and snatched up for years. Then she decides to do a sequel to the trilogy....imagine the excitement and squeals from myself and said friend when we learned this. I bought up the first book as did she and we tore through it...racing one another to the finish. I beat her but I also was working mainly from home last year due to the state of the world.

Fast forward and the author, who I now follow on Instagram, announces the release date and some special copies of the book (signed and some doodles by her) being sold. Not caring that I didn't really have the money, some things are worth going broke for, I ordered two copies. One for myself and a secret surprise for my friend...she deserves a signed copy. I know she won't buy the hardback book mostly because she reads everything on her Kindle...which I do more often now as well. Those were ordered in February and they will arrive at my home September 19th.

So a month and a little over two weeks I will have my very first signed copy of a book. Not only a signed copy but by an author that has rekindled my love for all things magical, romantic, and writing.

For those who don't know a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...I was a writer. Nothing professional but just for me. I sometimes think about sharing those writings here and then others I think about getting back into my writing games I was apart of. Most recently a former partner reached out to let me know they were interested in writing again. Life had beaten the spirit out of me the last two years but with recent things happening personally I feel motivated again. I informed my writing partner to give me a month and I would be ready. There are things in motion here that need my attention, which they understand and support.

For the first time in a long time I'm starting to feel like my old self and I don't want that feeling to go away. I fully blame my intended on this...I know he loves knowing that.

2 notes · View notes

anarcoqueer1994 · 3 years

Text

No More Dates

It was the summer of 1933, and Steve had just turned 15 years old. He is sitting in his kitchen with his ma, as she cooks. He's doodling on a scrap of paper when behind him he hears the door open; Bucky. Sarah never minded the brunette busting in without knocking. She sees him like another one of her kids and loves that her son has such a good friend.

Steve hears Bucky walk up behind him, feeling Bucky's strong arm wrap around his shoulder. Steve has to focus on not blushing. Ever since his friend has started down at the docks, his already handsome body has taken on harder lines and muscles. It was not helping Steve’s massive crush on him one bit.

He is broken out of his thoughts when the other boy starts to speak. "Good evening, Mrs. Rogers." He smiles at the blond woman at the stove. She smiles back and waves slightly.

He turns his attention to Steve. "Hey, Stevie. What'cha drawing?" Bucky looks down at the paper which Steve tries to hide. He isn't quick enough. Bucky sees. "This is good." Buck beams at the hastily sketched lips on the page. Luckily for Steve, he doesn't realize those are his lips.

"Uh, thanks Buck." Steve flashes a little smile back before turning the paper over, giving his full attention to the older boy.

"So listen Stevie, want to go out with me tonight?" Steve's hands suddenly get sweaty. What does Bucky mean, out tonight? With him, like a date. They can't do this, two guys. Bucky sees Steve’s panic stricken face. He asks "What's wrong? Please tell me you don’t have a shift at Mr. Green's do you?" Mr. Green owned a grocery store where Steve would bag at, one of the only places that would hire him. Bucky continues. "Please say you don't, I got us two pretty dames looking for a good time."

Oh. Steve thinks. Of course Bucky wasn’t talking about going out with him. Why would he? He got them a double date. He doesn't particularly want to go. Over the last few months, Bucky has gotten them all these double dates. But they all end up the same. Whatever poor girl who is his date, politely conducts herself but she always is more enthralled with Bucky. Oftentimes the girl only says yes to a date with him so her friend could get a date with the other man, since Bucky has made it clear that he won't go out with anyone if Steve can’t come.

But Steve would watch as the girls would whisper between themselves, teenage girls tending to not be discrete. He would see them giggle and bat their eyes at his friend, when the most he would get is an obligatory smile. He can't blame them though, he wasn’t much to look at, not like Bucky. Steve swore Bucky was the picture perfect man. To be honest, he catches himself staring at his friend too, jealousy often washing over him when he would see Bucky's hand wrapped around a girl's waist, pulling her close. He wishes Bucky could hold him like that; wanted to hold him like that back.

"No, I worked this morning. But Buck...you didn't need to get me a date. You go on and have fun. Plus I promised Ma I would help clean the oven tonight." He lies lamely.

Bucky frowns but nods his head. "Alright, Stevie…" He sounds disappointed.

Sarah, hearing the lie, shakes her head, careful not to embarrass her son while still not letting him off the hook. "It's alright, Steve. I got the oven. Just go have fun, tonight." Sarah doesn’t want her boy sitting at home. She knows that her son is a little...funny. And she knows she will always love her son no matter who he loves. But their church and society could be mean. She didn’t want her Steve facing that. She hopes that with these dates he can find a nice girl.

Bucky's face lights up. "Perfect! Thanks Mrs. Rogers!" He smiles at Steve and heads to the door. 'Be ready in an hour, okay?"

"Sure Buck…" Steve says unenthusiastically as the older boy leaves. He sighs before putting his head down in his arm on the table.

"Steve…" Sarah says softly. "It'll be fun. Maybe the girl will be nice."

Steve picks his head up slightly to look at his mom. "Ma, it always is the same. The poor girl who gets stuck with me has no interest. And why should she? Look at me."

She puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Baby, you're very handsome and any one would be lucky to be "stuck with you."

"You have to say that, you are my mom. I look like those yappy dogs with the big head and tiny body. I am nobody's type." He mopes.

"Steven Grant Rogers, you stop that right now. You are going on this date tonight and you are going to have fun." She says sternly.

Steve knows there is not a use in arguing with her so he just nods and resides himself to his fate.

Sarah had pulled out Steve's dad's

old grey suit, insisting on dressing the boy well for his date. He felt ridiculous, everything slightly too big. He should be used to that, all of his clothes fit like that. He wore the jacket unbuttoned hoping it would be less obvious about how too big it was. His mother let him use some of the little colgne she had, stored away from her late husband. She said he was perfect. He knew otherwise.

He meets Bucky at the bottom of the steps of his tenement. Bucky, of course, looks flawless, hair slicked back, effortless handsome, with button down shirt rolled to his elbows. Steve thinks he is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. And then Bucky smiles. A smile Steve cherishes as it is just for him.

"Hey Stevie" he throws his arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a half hug. "You look great!"

Steve blushes. "You're lying but thanks, so do you, pal."

Bucky wants to argue. He wants to tell him he's wrong because Steve always looked great, always looked perfect to him but knows Steve won't back down. So, he just smiles sadly at his best friend. "What are we going to do with you, man?" He asks as they start walking.

Once they get their dates, they head to a dance hall. Bucky's date is a pretty blond girl with bright blue eyes, Margaret, and Steve's is a redhead with green eyes named Dora. Steve is polite and is surprisingly light on his feet. Dora looks like she is having a good enough time as Steve tries his best to small talk with her and enjoy this date.

But it's hard because it is obvious that they both want someone else. As they danced, Steve would watch out of the corner of his eye as Bucky would twirl and dip his date, then pull her oh so close. There felt like there was something pushing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He hated himself for hating that Bucky was holding someone else.

He tried his best to put on a happy face for his date, who had been nothing but sweet. But he noticed that she too was making eyes at someone else, a guy across the room right that she seemed to know, as he looked back equally as sweetly. Steve knew how it felt to want someone else, but unlike him, she had a chance.

He pulls her over to the table mid dance. "What is it?" She says softly.

"You're a very nice girl, Dora. You have been incredibly kind and I have had a good time. But I'm not the one you want to be here with, am I?" Steve asks nicely, careful not to sound accusatory.

She looks down before saying "Am I that obvious?

He laughs, showing her he is not mad. "Yea. Also... it looks like he wants to be with you as much as you want to be with him. So go and dance with him, have fun." Steve replies lightly.

She gives him a pretty smile before surprising him with a hug, which he returns. She whispers "Thank you Steve." She holds him there a little longer before whispering one more thing. "I know I'm not the only one of us sweet on someone else and for the record, I think he is sweet on you too." What Steve didn’t realize was that between his glances at Bucky, Bucky glanced back, an evening of missed gazes.

She pulls away and waves, without another word making her way to the other man. Steve is left dumbfounded, and terrified, and excited all at once.

Most importantly he knows he has to get out of there, a feeling a dread that he gave himself away as a fairy. He knows she won't tell anyone other than maybe her friend...but what if others do find out. Suddenly it is hard to breathe, as he rushes out the door.

He ends up on the fire escape outside Bucky's room. The lights are out in the Barnes' residence,indicating that the family was asleep. He comes here a lot when he wants to escape. He guesses he is not that great at escaping since he always ends up at the same place. He sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, eyes shut.

What did she mean he was sweet on me too? How can she know that? How could, Bucky, the boy who has been chasing skirt like it was going out of style the last few months, be into him? They were just best friends, and he was just a hopeless fool who wanted to much. What if Bucky turned on him when he found out that Steve liked other fellas...liked him.

The last thought made him shiver, made him sick to his stomach, losing the one man that means more than him than the entire universe. A tear rolls down his face, before closing his eyes again. He is so focused on his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the window open behind him and someone step out. It isn't until he feels an arm wrap around his shoulder and pull him close that he realizes he isn't alone.

Bucky's voice is gentle as he whispers "Why'd you leave, Stevie?"

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat as he feels Bucky's strong arm holding him there. He forces himself to talk "I...i just wasn't having a good time, I just wanted to leave…thats all."

Bucky's voice gains a level of worry as he replies "You wouldn’t be sitting here if that was all. Please tell me what's wrong...I would of left with you, Steve. When I noticed you were gone, I left immediately and searched everywhere for you. Your ma said you didn’t come home, so I knew you would be here. Why didn’t you get me?"

Hearing the worry and sadness coat Bucky's voice makes Steve feel terrible, unable to look up at him as he answers "Because, Buck, I left because of you…" another silent tear falls.

"What..." Bucky sound confused, voice broken as he instinctively pulls away from Steve, scared whatever he did, he is making worse. "What did I do?"

Steve lets put an unamused laugh, silent tears falling more freely now as he looks at Bucky, who's face is distorted with guilt and confusion. Steve just wants to reach up and smooth out his features back to the beautiful care free ones that typically live on his face. "You...didn't do anything, I did. I'm whats wrong here, Buck."

Bucky is torn between wanting to pull Steve into a hug and never let go and not wanting to scare away his friend by touching him, so he fidgets with his hands in his lap. "Steve that's impossible...you couldn't have done anything wrong." He sounds sincere, like he thinks Steve is perfect.

"You---" a strangle sob manages to escape. "You think to highly of me. I don't deserve it. Buck, remember when we were in school, and the other boys would call me a fairy because we spent so much time together….and I look like this?" Steve feels bad, Bucky would always stand up for him, the other boys always backing down. They never backed down when Steve would stand up for himself, often getting his ass kicked.

"Yea, those guys are idiots, still are. I work with some of them down at the dock." Bucky says plainly.

"No...they aren't, because they were right." Steve sound sad.

"What?" Bucky says again, confused more than ever.

"I'm a fairy...a pansy….I like fellas like you are supposed to like dames, Buck. And I'm so sorry….so so sorry. I'm so afraid of anyone finding out. It'll break ma's heart….everyone at church will hate me...God hates me….everyone will hate me. I'm disgusting…" Steve is shaking now, sobs freely escaping between words. He hadn't meant to say all this but it slipped out.

Bucky, unable to not do anything, throws his arms around Steve, pulling his head to his chest, gently petting his hair. "Shhh...shhh….its okay Stevie, s'okay." He repeats for awhile before whispering "If you're disgusting, I'm disgusting." Steve gets really still in his arms, before tilting his head up to look at Bucky. "What?"

"I said, I'm "disgusting" too. I...uh like ladies, I do. I just like fellas too...especially...one fella in particular." He answers shyly.

Steve’s heart feels like it is on a roller coaster. In the same breath that he found out Bucky was also a queer...he finds out Bucky has eyes for a guy already. Jealousy wells up inside of him, this somehow hurting more than a dame. Being a glutton for punishment, Steve asks "Who?"

Bucky laughs, arms still around his oblivious friend. "You, punk."

Steve’s heart is literally going to beat right out his chest qnd fly away. In disbelief he asks "Then why did you drag me on all those dates?"

Bucky takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "I thought it was easier this way...hide how I was feeling and get to spend time with you, thought it was a win-win."

Steve clears his throat, pulling away so he can look Bucky in the eyes, Bucky’s arms still resting on his shoulders. "Not...not for me. I...hated seeing you holding other people...that weren't me. Do you know how many times I wished it was me in your arms, slow dancing. Because…I really love you. And I know people say that you can't know love at 15….but I do….love is whatever I feel when I'm with you and---"

Before he can finish, Bucky pulls him in for a soft, chaste kiss. Steve practically melts. This is is his first kiss, and its clumsy and sweet and everything he ever wanted.

When they break away, both boys smile like love sick puppies. Bucky smiles "I love you too, Stevie."

Steve smiles back "No more dates?"

"No more dates." Bucky agrees.

#pre serum steve #pre serum stucky #stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve x bucky #fanfic #fanfiction #steve x bucky fanfic

54 notes · View notes

clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

Text

The Best Things ~ J.V. (Part 1)

A/n: I'm so sorry but I DESPERATELY needed to get this off my chest before I exploded because I have absolutely NO self control.

I made a playlist

Word Count: 5000+

MASTERLIST

Come in sets of two...

Y/n was an oddball.

At least that's what his parents said- a lot.

"You're such an oddball."

It seemed that they meant it endearingly, but the words stuck with Y/n much more than they probably should have. And maybe that was less because of his parents or even his brother and more because of the media and the other kids that treated him very differently than they usually treated other people.

It probably didn't help that he was a Wayne.

Bruce Wayne was an absolute golden boy. He was responsible, driven, intelligent. He was a staple for Boys Going Somewhere. A face to an idea that everyone absolutely adored. It was known very well that Bruce was going to be the successor to Wayne Enterprises- even though Y/n was two years older. Bruce was good to the core, with a wide smile but a certain professionalism that most adults didn't ever master.He was level headed and figured things out very easily. His parents were incredibly proud of him and held him very dearly, and it showed.

Y/n wasn't anything like him. He preferred staying up late and watching the stars or the sun set and then rise again, compared to understanding anything about business. He was somewhat of an artist. He had notebooks full of drawings and his room was covered with thumbtacked paintings he'd put on his wall with pride, even though most of them were what he was known for: people, animals, or objects that he'd fixated on long enough to paint them... except that they were often multiple things in one painting, and they were all mashed together in a rather alarming sight. He walked around with paint in his hair and on his clothes, his eyes bright and shining and his energy completely uncontained. He had no sense of self control or when to be quiet or calm. Most often he wasn't even found at home, as he went to school and then hung out with friends he'd made on the streets.

It was instantly incredibly obvious the drastic difference between the two boys, and people had been bidding on which one would succeed and which one would flop the very first second Bruce had been born. Every bet was on Bruce making it.

Despite everything, Y/n and Bruce got along very well. Y/n was rather emotional and got upset very quickly when he was ignored, which worked quite nicely with Bruce's curiosity. Y/n could go on for hours about the same thing and Bruce would listen. Bruce could ask questions about one painting for just as long and Y/n would eagerly answer each one, going into as much detail as possible. Y/n pulled Bruce out of his comfort zone and gave him a little fun outside of the expectations that were constantly pressing down on him. Likewise, Bruce took up the mantle and allowed Y/n the complete freedom to be himself and be appreciated for it.

Even the boys' parents had a pretty steady relationship with Y/n. They found him to be a little much, but with Bruce leaving them reassured that their company would be in a pair of capable hands, they were perfectly fine with letting Y/n go absolutely wild. As log as he was safe and everything he did was legal. They might live in Gotham, but the Waynes were good people and that wasn't changing anytime soon.

Overall, they were a very happy family.

Everything changed the night Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot dead on a way home from a movie they'd taken Bruce to.

It had been a night out like any other. Y/n stayed home as usual- it was the only time he could turn his music all the way up and completely lose himself in whatever he wanted to. The others didn't mind. It let Y/n blow off steam and made him much calmer for a while; in addition, they had a night out together and got to bond with Bruce. Sometimes they'd take just Y/n, and sometimes Y/n and Bruce would go out together without their parents, but most of the time it was Thomas and Martha and Bruce, and each Wayne was okay with that.

Y/n was staring at a half painted canvas, eyes wide and fingers trailing the path of his lips. He was loving the loudness and the thumping of the beat under his feet. Like it was in his blood. He smiled, raising the paintbrush.

The door busted open. "Y/N!"

Y/n spun around, startled. In the sharp movement, he knocked over a tiny bowl full of paint. Alfred reached over, turning the music off. "Your parents were shot and killed. Bruce is home early." Red paint dripped down the easel and over Y/n's shoes as the words tried to sink in but failed.It was like looking at something see through or invisible. Like feeling the breeze and wishing to catch it, but never able to close your fingers around empty air. Y/n just couldn't comprehend what Alfred was saying. Sensing his shock, Alfred moved closer. His voice was softer when he repeated, "Y/n. Bruce needs you. He won't admit it, but I can't help him lone.He won;t even admit he needs help. He might open up to you."

"No," Y/n choked out. Martha Wayne was far too kind and gentle. She was warmth and safety incarnate. Something so good and bright wasn't allowed to fade. Like yellow paint,or the sun. She always came back in the morning Always. And Thomas Wayne was... unbreakable. Unshakable. Impossible to even faze, let alone kill. He was unbeatable. Nothing could kill him. He'd live forever. Or, at the very least, go out at his own time when he was completely sure he was ready to. "No."

"Yes," Alfred insisted, shaking Y/n's shoulders violently. Y/n flinched. "Please-"

Without another word, Y/n pushed away from Alfred and sped to Bruce's room. He didn't even knock. Bruce was sitting on his bed, his eyes haunted and his lips resting in a soft frown. His hands were in his lap as he perched on the edge of the bed like he was planning to run any second, but he also seemed cemented in place as if he couldn't go anywhere even if he wanted to. He was scary still, and as his eyes slowly moved from the floor to meet Y/n's gaze, the older Wayne shivered at the darkness in his gaze. "Bruce?"

Bruce nodded stiffly in forced greeting. "Y/n."

Y/n bit his lip. Bruce's gaze fell to Y/n's feet and widened, his hands tightening on his knees. Y/n looked down to see the red paint still on his shoe, beginning to dry, and immediately felt sick. "So-" he cut off, his throat burning like he'd swallowed acid."So they're really-"

"Yeah," Bruce interrupted.

"You were there."

"Yeah."

Silence fell like a piano from a fifth story building. Even when the silence left, the feeling didn't. Both boys were suddenly being crushed under the weight of a ginormous object neither of them could see let alone explain or find the strength to remove. It stayed through the funeral, and onward. It manifested differently for each boy.

Bruce began to dig into his parents' murder, sifting through file after file, night after night. He got little sleep and ate even less often. At least he wasn't hurting himself anymore. That he had done a lot right before Alfred, Y/n, and Jim Gordon had all teamed up to knock him out of it.

Y/n was thrown into the world of business. He was torn away from everything he cared about. His freedom and dreams were stolen ad he was forced to clean up and get into a suit and start taking care of the family company- at least until Bruce was ready. In a few months he lost not only the things he enjoyed and his parents, but also his friends and the easy going way of life. He was beaten down and forced to be calm and collected. He was taught how to not deal with emotions like real men do and handle business that needed to get taken care of. He wasn't a person anymore. He was a tool.

It was unbearable for Bruce. He was losing all of his family in one go and as he tried to fight to make sense of it or keep anything of his old life, people kept trying to knock him down a peg and remind him that he was a child. Even though Y/n, barely 14, was apparently old enough to have the world on his shoulders when he was completely and totally not able to handle it in any way. It was supposed to be Bruce's job.

Finally he managed to prove his capabilities, but not in time to save Y/n. He had been rung out by the press and pushed to the brink and then over by the people at Wayne Enterprises. When he got his free time back, he didn't spend it watching the stars or the sun rise and fall. He didn't spend it painting dogs and lamps. He didn't spend it doodling and ranting to Bruce about all the things he found wonderful about the world. He spent each and every second he had locked in his room, painting.

The colors of each work began to get darker, the themes more twisted. They got better as he fixated on one thing only... unfortunately, that thing was death.

Y/n was spiraling. He didn't take care of himself and sometimes didn't come out of his room for days. Bruce tried to get through to him, but it seemed that something really bad had happened while everyone had expected him to be in charge. The thing was, there were no hints about it and of course no one at the company would fess up about anything. Y/n wouldn't talk about it. Anytime anyone even mentioned Wayne Enterprises, he would pull away and become unresponsive.

Then the Maniax began wreaking havoc.

Y/n's focus suddenly changed. He wasn't fascinated per say by the horrible things going wrong, but more the people that were committing the heinous acts. One day Bruce finally got him to talk about it, and all Y/n had to say was, "I mean, who does that? Who goes around just killing people like it doesn't mean anything? For no reason? Look at the redhead- he shoots one of his own guys for no reason- Look, right there. What kind of mental state would someone have to be in to be so flippant about taking a life?"

The obsession with the Maniax was soon followed by an obsession of killers in general. He was found constantly reading history books about some of the world's worst killers. Then, about Gotham's worst killers specifically.

That was why Bruce went to him when he began to get involved with that same redhead that had set Y/n down this path in the very beginning. "What do you think drives him? I mean, why do what he does?" Bruce asked his brother one day. It had been quite a while since they'd sat down and talked like this. When Bruce would ask questions about something Y/n fixated on and Y/n answered with pure eagerness. This had been the first time the information had been useful or had a realistic application, and it was upsetting.

"Probably some mental disorders. Perhaps some childhood trauma. He's probably immensely desensitized..." He paused. "Jerome Velaska is actually quite odd. He's probably just psychotic, with some serious abandonment issues and a sort of god complex. He wants to be seen and known and craves endless adoration and attention. He'll do anything to get what he wants, and doesn't have the patience or tolerance for anything else. That's why he acts out- it's like he has the mind of a child. He didn't get his way and now he's going to pitch a fit and chuck his toys. His toys being people and the fit being murder."

Bruce swallowed. "That's demented."

"Hm?" Y/n hummed. He blinked then forced himself to nod. He had zoned out and not blinked to bring himself back to the present. "Yeah. He's totally messed up."

Bruce tried not to ask Y/n about Jerome again after that. There had been a strange light in his eyes. A dangerous interest that made Bruce... nervous.

Everything came to a climatic bang when Alfred took the two brothers out to a charity banquet held in honor of a children's hospital. He'd only managed to get Y/n out because he'd been more energetic recently. More in a good mood. A little more like himself. In favor of seeing Y/n be so much like he used to, neither Alfred nor Bruce questioned it.

Boy did they wish they had though.

The night was seeming to pan out rather dull until the Magician came out. Y/n loved Magicians. He always had. He found their skill to pull off even the most obvious tricks was rather impressive. So when the Magician on stage asked for a volunteer and Bruce was chosen, Y/n was a little disheartened.

Bruce, however, seemed that he would rather do anything else. He had been nagging to leave anyway. Y/n stepped forward. "I can go up for you if you want," he offered.

The woman smiled and on stage, the Magician announced, "Ah yes! Just as well, just as well. Please, join us." The woman held out her hand for Y/n and he took it immediately.

Gotham hadn't seen Y/n in a very long time. People tittered and clapped and Y/n felt nervous. He hadn't been in front of a crowd since-

No, he wouldn't think about that. Tonight it was just some good fun and he'd be okay with that. Wasn't he allowed to have fun every once in a while?

The Magician greeted Y/n then opened a box, motioning for him to get in. He did, with a bounce in his step and excitement in his eyes. The box lid closed over top Y/n and the slats were put in place. It was the classic "sawed in half" trick. Y/n was immediately put off though. It would ruin the magic if an audience member did the trick. The assistant always did this trick, because it required a lot of trick of the eye to work. This way, he'd just get cut in-

Y/n's eyes went wide. The Magician above him smiled deviously.

"Does this handsome gentleman have a name?" Suddenly Y/n's body went cold. He knew that voice. Had heard it again and again and again on tv. He had seen that exact smile accompanying it. He was torn between the horror of the very real possibility of death at any second, and awe at finally meeting the man he'd been unable to get out of his head for the last significant amount of time. Since the whole bus full of high schoolers had almost been set on fire and that soon-to-be familiar face was all over the screen during the news broadcast about it. That face that had been and would be on every news broadcast for quite sometime. The Magician hummed, raising his eyebrows, and Y/n swallowed.

"Y/n," he said. There was no point now. He was trapped and at this man's mercy. What could he do? Cry for help? The most anyone would do is laugh it off, even if he could manage to get the lump out of his throat and get any coherent message across. Plus, something far more demanding kept him silent.

An extremely dangerous sense of curiosity.

If he was going to die tonight anyway, he might as well take his last moments to see what Jerome Valeska was like up close.

"Y/n," the not-magician repeated, musing over the name. "Well, Y/n, this won't hurt a bit." He clanged the two large saws together and Y/n felt breathless. What was he doing?! This was absolute madness! "Is there a doctor in the house?" The crowd laughed. The crowd LAUGHED. Of course they laughed. They always laughed. No one cared about Y/n Wayne.

Suddenly Alfred's voice sounded out, rather panicked. Y/n looked over, surprised. Of all people, Y/n didn't think it would have been Alfred who would have intervened. Alfred had been much too wrapped up in taking care of Bruce. Such as everyone was. Despite that, it was him to stumbled out, "Just- wait- excuse--" He held up a hand, everything going quiet and still as he tripped forward. "Just wait, wait, wait one second."

Jerome didn't wait.

The saw came down.

To his own shock, Y/n was fine.

The assistant rolled away his lower half and then returned it just in time for Jerome to lean close and whisper, "Give em a wave." Y/n looked directly into his eyes and his smile wavered. They were a pretty color. Brown, littered with slight blues and green that came alive under the stage lighting.

"I know who you are." The words wouldn't have been heard by anyone else other than Jerome- even if it wasn't for the clapping. Jerome froze, but Y/n didn't wait. He stood, waved to the audience to show he was alright, and then allowed the assistant to take him back to his place next to Bruce and Alfred.

When Jerome spoke gain, his words seemed to be a little different. Y/n placed the emotion when he turned back around again and saw Jerome's eyes glued intently to Y/n. He wasn't blinking. "Some say Y/n here has a split personality." The audience laughed at the pun and then his voice lightened again as he moved onto his next trick. As he called up the mayor an the set up began, the assistant's mask fell off.

Y/n gasped. He knew that face too. Unmistakable. Barbara Keene. Of course. How did Y/n not see that far sooner?

"I should warn you," Jerome teased lightly. "No one is getting out of here tonight alive." The audience laughed and Y/n thought he would feel terror at the words. What was stopping him now? He could whisper to Bruce or Alfred. To that nice lady from before-

It was then that Y/n realized Lee Thompkins was gone.

Jerome flung a knife straight into the Mayor's gut and Bruce stepped forward, gasping in time with the crowd. Y/n was torn. Why was he torn?! This was simple! Stop this! Right? Surely he could do something.

And yet... he found he didn't want to. God what the hell was wrong with him?

The Mayor fell and people began panicking. The gun shot started and Y/n moved without thinking, slipping behind a curtain and out of sight. He began to move through the curtains until he was far enough fromAlfred not to be stopped, then he was ducking to make sure he didn't get shot- and he waited.

He saw Jerome and Barbara tie up Lee and then make a call. He spoke loudly- it wasn't hard to make out at least one side of the conversation. His demands didn't make sense. They didn't line up at all with his character. Why...?

His maniacal laughter suddenly cut off as he turned to face his newly terrified audience. The moment was interrupted, though, by a new voice. "Enough!" Y/n stepped out from hiding to get a better view, only to see a man he didn't know. That was a new experience on this night where Y/n seemed to be able to put a name to ever face in this room that mattered. "It's time for you to pack up your little sideshow and leave," the man continued. Jerome was still grinning. That didn't make sense either. Why didn't he seemed bummed that his fun was getting interrupted, or a little tentative around the new player he hadn't planned his game around? How had this guy even gotten in, with all the guards outside? It felt off. Y/n could sense it immediately. Even the man spoke like he was... reading lines.

And Jerome responded in the exact same way. Like he was in a show. Like he was acting.

The movements of the two men and the way they formed words seemed so out of place. Even the shot of the gun Barbara used... none of it seemed natural.

Without thinking, Y/n stepped forward. The small noise his steps made immediately caught Jerome's attention. His eyes light up, his smile relaxing to a much more natural place. This was Jerome. The change was impossible to miss for Y/n, who had been carefully studying him so long.

"You," Jerome called, pointing directly at Y/n for the first time tonight. This felt even more thrilling than when Bruce had been picked. Now there was no charade or manipulation. It was just Jerome and Y/n. "Come here." He held up a gun, obviously ready to threaten someone's life to get Y/n to obey, but he was already moving before the words could leave Jerome's mouth. "What a nice boy." Y/n should have been at least pretending to be phased, but he was far too caught up in analyzing Jerome that he didn't think about how his step was confident and unfaltering, taking him to Jerome without any hesitation. He didn't think about the expression on his face, but how it made Jerome specifically respond. By simply having an emotion other than fear, Y/n had caught Jerome's attention and was reveling in it. Jerome could see that too, and it seemed to entertain him even more.

"You just gonna stare at me all day?" Y/n whispered softly, trying not to let his lips twitch into a smirk. Was he... flirting? It felt like he was suddenly outside of his body, watching this train wreck happen, unsure of who was in control or why he was doing anything he was.

Jerome seemed to be absolutely loving it. "Stand here with me." His voice was soft as silk, near purring. Y/n moved to where he motioned and stayed silent. The problem with his new placement: everyone could see his reactions now, not just Jerome. It was time to start acting at the very least.

Turns out he didn't much need to.

Jerome was easily terrifying as he was charismatic.

Every time Y/n thought he had caught on to Jerome schtick, he did something that threw Y/n off completely again. It was all fun and games, playing at murder but then pulling out some joke shot that didn't really make any sense. Did he actually want to keep all of us hostage? Wasn't it enough to have a few? Bruce, me and Alfred because Bruce was Gotham's golden boy, and he wouldn't let anything happen to me or Alfred. Lee Thompkins because she was his bargaining chip. The four of us would be plenty enough of a bargaining chip, maybe a handful more just in case. Why spare everyone, if he really did like killing so much?

There was something to Jerome that really intrigued Y/n. He wondered what the maniac was really thinking. What really drove him to act this way. To take control of a whole room full of Gotham's richest of the most well meaning... only to ask for ridiculous, nonsensical demands and not kill a single one of us.

Again Y/n got that sense, like something else major was actually happening here.

Y/n was zoning out. Missing things. He couldn't focus on the act going. The show that had more layers than what was originally apparent. He missed the whole throw down with Barbara and Lee as well, but caught the gist: Barbara was apparently in love with JimGordon and fancied that they'd end up together. Lee was apparently getting in the way of that. Blah, blah, blah. Girl drama and psychopaths and romance and delusion. Barbara almost killed Lee. Jerome stopped her. So on and so forth.

Then, Jerome attention was on Y/n again all of a sudden, even though he'd been carefully ignoring the boy he'd called up on stage until that point. He grinned at Y/n, the knife he'd taken fromBarbara manifesting in Jerome's hand. The redhead used it more like a finger than a weapon. He ran the dull side of the back of the blade under Y/n's chin, the flipped it so the blade was pressed gently to Y/n's skin. "My favorite volunteer," he said slowly, stepping far too close for what should have been comfortable. "You know, I've seen you on TV."

"And I, you." He hadn't meant to respond, but it had slipped out before he could stop it.

Jerome's head tilted as he popped his chin in pride. "Well, of course. I was meant to be on the big screen. I made my own way. It was my choice to end up where everyone could see me." He took a deep breath in. "You, however... what a scandal." Suddenly Y/n couldn't breath. Jerome roared in giddy, insane laughter. "There he is!" He turned to the audience, motioning to the slight shake of Y/n's body and the sickly pale tint to his skin. "There's that fear! That fear or hate or disgust or whatever it is you all feel for me... except for you." He looked back at Y/n. "We're so similar, Y/n," he sighed. "I'm an orphan too, you know. I don't fear death either."

"You killed your parents," Y/n managed to get out through gritted teeth.

Jerome tilted his head back and forth. "Details, details." The knife was at Y/n's throat again. "You're no fun anymore, you know. Everyone stops being fun at some point. I will give you one thing: you lasted longer than most." The knife pressed further into Y/n's throat and he sucked in a sharp breath as it broke skin, a single drop of blood making a vibrant path down his pale skin.

Gun shots. Suddenly Jerome spun, pressing Y/n's back to his chest, moving the blade so Y/n's was a hostage instead of the focused on target. There was a bit of chaos in the crowd, and Y/n's eyes widened to see Alfred and Jim Gordon of all people mowing through Jerome's lackies. Jim turned his barrel toward Y/n and Jerome. "Let him go!" He shouted. Jerome's giggle rang right next to Y/n's ear. Whatever weird spell from before that had Y/n controlled and calm and still broke and he flinched back away from the blade. Unfortunately, that only brought him closer to Jerome. After a second Jim defeatedly announced, "I don't have a clean shot. Jerome shifted, obviously eager in his moment of victory.

"Stay calm, Y/n," Alfred eased. Bruce was shuffling, knowing it wouldn't help to rush in but having to use every bit of his self control to stop himself from doing just that. He couldn't lose Y/n too. His brother was part of the quickly dwindling family he still had left.

Jerome's breath sounded in Y/n's ear as he gritted his teeth, switching from plying a game to planning an escape. Of course he wanted to get out of here alive. "It seems like we've got ourselves in a bit of a pickle. "What do you say Sweetheart?" Jerome mumbled in his ear. He was twitching, rocking a little from foot to foot. "Why don't we boost our ratings, hm?" The knife moved from one side of Y/n's throat to the other, drawing the smallest line of blood. Y/n gasped, his body shaking in suddenly very real fear. He wondered if this is how his parents had felt, or if they'd died too fast to really be afraid of dying at all. "Smile." Jerome began his wild, broken chittering of a laugh again.

This was familiar. Jerome had been waiting all night to kill someone, and for whatever reason he hadn't. Unfortunately, that meant he was definitely not going to hesitate to now. Y/n closed his eyes, and echoing, "NO!" Coming from his younger brother before he was sure he was about to be enveloped by darkness.

"I said, enough." Jerome let go of Y/n in surprise and both boys turned, unsure where to move from here. Not knowing how to switch gears. There stood the man from earlier. Theo Galavant. Theo grabbed Jerome by the color and drove a knife into the side of his neck. Y/n made a weird, half-choking, half-squeaking sound as the blade made impact into flesh, the audience gasping behind him.

Y/n couldn't move. He fell backwards, tripping over his own feet and barely catching himself as he made his way off the stage and to the ground. Theo must have thought he was further, but he heard it. He heard what the man said next. "I know, I know, I know," he cooed as Jerome choked, dying. Y/n blinked, trying to clear his head. So many thoughts were swimming through it and his chest had begun to tighten and twist. He couldn't breathe. He could still hear though. "This isn't what we rehearsed. I'm so sorry Jerome. You have real talent! But no, you see, the plot thickens. Enter: the hero."

Something horrible settled into Y/n's stomach as Jerome spoke again, his voice weak and raspy. "You... said... I was... gonna be..." He died before the sentence could finish, and Y/n was running. Ramming into Bruce, the boys holding each other tightly as Alfred enveloped them both with his arms.

"It's over," Alfred reassured. "You're safe now, Y/n, it's okay."

The words sounded sincere and full of relief, but Y/n couldn't shake that things were far from over. In fact, he was sure they'd only just begun.

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska imagine #bruce wayne #gotham #gotham imagine #gotham x reader #joker #joker imagine #joker x reader #male reader #jerome valeska x male reader #joker x male reader

143 notes · View notes

vetyr · 5 years

Note

hi! i'm not sure if you've answered this already but i saw on instagram that you are majoring in mechanical engineering at cornell. i'm going to be in an accelerated medical program in uni, and i'm worried that i won't be have time to draw, study art, practice, etcetera. seeing you consistently producing art amazes and inspires me. how do you balance art and all its things with such an intense major?

Hey! I get this question often, so I figured it’d be a good idea to assemble a decent response to it. Long post incoming. TL;DR: I gotta force myself to draw sometimes, because my mental health probably depends on it.

The honest answer is that I’m actually not that great at uploading art while I’m at school. During freshman year especially I’d just shut off the art side of my brain during exam season—a period which could last anywhere between two to five weeks and began again within a week or two due to Cornell’s batty exam schedule—in an attempt to study more effectively. I figured that less time on art equated linearly to more time on academics, which directly led to more academic success.

Turns out, uh, it’s not that simple. I finished up my sophomore year this spring and I realized that I do way better academically and mentally when I spend some time drawing throughout the day. I don’t know what it’s like for others, but I guess that my brain is just wired such that after a lifetime of drawing, quitting cold turkey for an extended period of time is really not ok for me.

Drawing in class (see the pics in this post), doodling stuff for friends, taking commissions, or studying a figure even just for twenty minutes a day is enough to work. Pushing myself to draw is often quite difficult, especially when I’ve got an exam/problem set/project looming over my head. To anyone in this position—in school or otherwise under enough stress that the thing you love causes you anxiety, fear, or boredom—I’ve got two tips.

The first is that drawing for ten minutes or less a day will make you feel orders of magnitude better than not drawing at all for another day in a row. Even thirty seconds will likely get the job done for you, mentally. I’m not going to BS you and say that you’ll improve much if you draw for ten minutes a day, every day, and no more, but it will give you peace of mind. Even as someone who’s trying to improve their art I find this fact really valuable, simply because I know from experience that getting yourself comfortable with drawing a little bit every day is a really reliable method of getting yourself to draw a lot every day. When you finally have the free time to draw (weekends, breaks, etc.), you’ll thank yourself for setting up that stepping stone.

The second is particularly meant for students with a very specific problem: avoiding making art because you should be studying instead. My roundabout solution works well for me, but may not work for a student who genuinely does not have any free time in their day, so keep that in mind. For me, it works to remind myself that I can easily spend one to three hours a day mindlessly browsing the internet or watching videos, but for some reason my mind takes no issue with this even during exam season. When I’m hesitant about picking up the tablet pen because I’m thinking about the exam in four days, I just tell myself that I’m replacing the time I’d be wasting anyways with something that I consider fulfilling.

I wish you the best of luck with everything (’you’ referring generally to anyone balancing art and school/work; this ask is old enough that the original asker may well be a doctor by now, who knows), and I hope you and art have a good relationship in the years to come. Cue random sketch.

#asks #artists on tumblr #art advice #sketch #brush test

1K notes · View notes

verobatto · 5 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

(Vol. XIX)

It was a love story from the very beginning.

Tell me the Truth

(6x04/6x05/6x06/6x07/6x08/6x13)

Hello my dear! How have you been? I'm here with another volume from this Chronicles.

This time I want to talk about the truth as a recurrent topic in the first half of this season.

I'm gonna mix some bi Dean concept too, this will be mostly a Dean centric meta.

O want to give thanks to my friend @agusvedder , she couldn't make me the gifs for this meta but we discussed a lot about this topic. Thank you girl!

Let's start...

Saying goodbye to Lisa and Ben

Ok, I will collect here an amount of observations I made in several chapters in which we can see Dean breaking up with Lisa and Ben as his family.

In episode 6x06 Live Free or Twihard , calling back to 6x02, we had Dean feeling himself a monster and becoming one.

At the beginning of the episode, the Winchester brothers went to investigate to a house, a girl's room, vampires fan. Dean found a book and this is what he reads...

DEAN. Look at this. He's WATCHING her sleep. How is that not rape-y?

This is very significant because when Dean is turning into a vampire, he decided to go visit Lisa and Ben to say goodbye... So when he arrives, he just stays there by Lisa's bed watching her sleep. As a real monster. After this we all recall he pushed Ben violently and ran away. This was the beginning of the end.

In episode 6x06 "You can't handle the truth" written by Sera Gamble, even when it was a very Wincest episode, it had a very interesting topic about ASKING THE TRUTH YOU CAN'T EFFORT.

And related with Lisa here, he called her, and because he had asked for the truth, he receives the truth from her. A very hard one. She snapped at him this...

LISA: You've got so much buried in there, and you push it down, and you push it down. Do you honestly think that you can go through life like that and not freak out? Just, what, drink half a fifth a night and you're good?

DEAN: You knew what you signed up for.

Dean is excusing himself with her, she knew, he's like this. He won't change. Hunting is his life.

LISA: Yeah. But I didn't expect Sam to come back. And I'm glad he's okay. I am. But the minute he walked through that door, I knew. It was over. You two have the most unhealthy, tangled-up, crazy thing I've ever seen. And as long as he's in your life, you're never gonna be happy.That came out so much harsher than I meant.

Here, we have the pathologic codependency between them, but as it was written, and here's my opinion, is screaming Wincest all over, we know Sera was a fervent fan of the boys, and this doesn't surprises me. Lisa is being very hard and honest with Dean. Things are not Al right between them.

DEAN: It's not your fault.

LISA: I'm not saying don't be close to Sam. I'm close to my sister. But if she got killed, I wouldn't bring her back from the dead!

DEAN: Okay, Lis... I'm not gonna lie. Okay, me and Sam, we... we've got issues. No doubt. But you and Ben --

Here is Dean saying "Everything you had just said is truth", so more Wincest for the bag.

LISA: Me and Ben can't be in this with you. I'm sorry.

And this was the end for sure.

In this same episode, we had this scene...

Gif set credit @paladeckis

The woman is dressed in lavanda color, si, basically, is a Lisa's mirror here,asking for a lot of attention and Dean is giving her that not very hopeful answer... So yeah, Dean had decided which life he wants for him. Maybe, and as I said before, he doesn't feel he deserves a good life, or maybe because he feels like a dangerous monster that can destroy good things.

Now... Let's jump to 6x07 "Family Matters"...

There's a singular quote by the Alpha Vampire:

DEAN: I didn't realize we were on a first-name basis.

ALPHA VAMPIRE: Of course we are. After all, you were my child... for a time. Dean, tell me... did you enjoy it?

Ok, I know this is a creepy way to see it, but... Immediately after episode 6x06 we had this. And beacuse Dean is in the break up process with Lisa and Ben, this could be taken as a Dean/Ben mirror... Ben was the "monster's son" for a while, or at least that way is how Dean see it inside of him. So, symbolically, we are talking about that here.

Now... Episode 6x08 "All dogs go to Heaven" a very blantant Dean mirror with the dog-man here... First of all... Remember the monster watching in silence while the woman sleeps?? We have the same again here... The dog-man (skinwalker) his name was Lucky.

There was interesting words exchanging between Dean and Lucky, and please pay attention to Dean's speech...

DEAN: Hang on, Sam. [to LUCKY (MAN)] Listen, you don't have to tell me why you're with the family. I get it.

LUCKY (MAN): Oh, you do, do you?

DEAN: You killed every threat that came near them. You care about them, in your own whack-a-doodle kind of way. It's obvious. What I want to know is, who was that guy you were kibitzing with? He a skinwalker, too?

So... Isn't it Dean talking to himself? Do he feel like a abandoned and hurted dog that needed a refuge? A family? Now... Check this other quote...

DEAN: What are you gonna do to that family, really? You gonna put your jaws around that little boy's throat? Clamp down, listen to him cry for his mom? 'Cause I'm gonna guess that these are the only people who in your pathetic life have ever showed you any kindness. So it's either that... or you can help us stop it.

Again, the scene of Dean pushing Ben against the wall when he was about to transform into a vampire (a monster) and then... Again talking to himself. Is so blantant that my heart broke instantly...

After this, Dean decided not to shoot him bc he knew that dog was him... But things didn't end well for Lucky...

When he tries to come back to Mandy and her son, this is what happened...

MANDY: Get away from this house, you psycho. And if you ever, ever come near me or my son again, so help me...

LUCKY (MAN): I know I probably deserve...

MANDY closes and locks the door.

This is the end for the monster that wanted to have a family, the difference here is... Dean really wanted to have this kind of life?

And the answer we already know...

Gif set credit @frozen-delight

Dean is puting salt on the windows while he's saying he's out... Tell the truth Dean.

And in 6x13 "Unforgettable" Dean said another thing to his brother (to himself) to put a final period here...

DEAN: Sam, y-y-you got to understand that all that crap last year -- all of it -- none of it was you.

Ok Dean, we get it. This last year trying to be a man with a normal life and family, it wasn't you. It was a lie.

Sam's lies and foreshadowing Castiel's secrets

Before to continuó with this meta... I promised you some bi-Dean scene... Here you have.

Look how Dean checks out the police man and he even greeted him that way. As we know... Dean likes uniforms... 😉 (This gif was made by my gorgeous friend Agus!)

Ok... Let's start with the brothers here...

We all recall that scene when Sam just watched as Dean was turned into a vampire. Ok... So Dean saw it too. And that was one of his biggest alarms about his brother. This happened in episode 6x05.

In episode 6x06, another interesting parallel with the Winchesters brother and Sam's lies.

SAM: You know what a "tell" is?

OLIVIA: Excuse me?

SAM: It's a poker term... for when you're bluffing. Like what you just did with your hair.

OLIVIA: What are you trying to say?

SAM: You're lying.

DEAN is surprised at the force of SAM's inquiry.

OLIVIA: What?!

SAM: Tell us what you did to your sister.

Ok big parallel each time Dean wanted to obtain the truth about what happened with the vampire and why he didn't take care of him.

So after this we had the big scene with VERITAS, and very very WINCEST thing right here...

Gif credit @whiskeyandwhine

Look at their hands touching... Yep very disgusting and very Sera Gamble era. 😒 I'm just pointing things here for you to see what this woman wanted to do with the show.

Let's see continue now with CAS.

In this same episode we had another confession that could be analyze as a parallel and foreshadow of Castiel and his secrets.

SAM: So, you had some idea Corey might have taken her own life?

ROOMMATE: Well... she had been going through a bit of a hard time lately... at school. And then, um, her cat, Mittens, had just ran away. But, really, it was her boyfriend. She was sure that he was cheating on her. But he was just very good at covering his tracks. Which, of course, made her completely obsessed with --

Ok we are here talking about Castiel... The "boyfriend" term will be use by Balthazar twice, one with Dean and the other with Sam, referencing to Castiel. Castiel is the boyfriend, and he is cheating on Dean and Sam.

Gif credit @never-forget-viva-la-pluto

Gif set credit @sam-spirit-winchester

Also, making Balthazar calling Castiel as the Winchesters's boyfriend, equally... Another SERA GAMBLE tool, "look Cas isn't Dean's boyfriend, is Sammy's boyfriend too, so... Is irrelevant."

Episode 6x07 we had the boys discovering SAMUEL was working for Crowley, so the entire episode is a big foreshadow of what was about to happen when Dean, Sam and Bobby discover Castiel's deal with the King of Hell. And is also the episode in which the idea about Purgatory and the power of souls is presented.

And ironically, we'll have Dean and Sam literally working for Crowley too, so ... A little hole in the narrative here... But hey... We don't talk about this Season, don't we?

To conclude

Dean asked for the truth and he had it with his brother and he will have it with Castiel, the problem is... Is he ready to handle it?

The first half of the season was a foreshadow for Castiel's secret and we could see in many episodes how the writers showed us what Dean felt by leaving Ben and Lisa and how he will have to handle with a big betrayal.

In Sera Gamble era we had a lot of references to Wincest and holes in the narrative, that we will see more often in the incoming episodes.

I hope you like this! C-u in the next Chronicles!

Tagging

@magnificent-winged-beast

@emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @koshisekisen @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @angelneedshunter @trickster-archangel @dea-stiel @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @mishka-the-angel-of-saturday @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @xsghn @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel

If you want to be tagged, please let me know.

If you want to check the previous season 6 Chronicles, the links are here: XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII.

Buenos Aires July 11st 2019 1:47 AM

#destiel chronicles #supernatural meta #destiel meta #season 6 meta #vol. XIX

55 notes · View notes

douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years

Text

THERE WAS A LOT OF MIDDLE CLASS KIDS, GETTING INTO HARVARD WON'T MEAN MUCH ANYMORE

But once again, I wouldn't aim too directly at either target. One can't have quite as little foresight as a river. As the reader gets smarter, convincing and true become identical, so if you can make with yourself that will both make you happy and make your company successful. Their thoughts are a tangle of unexamined impulses. I suspect harder fields may be better sources, because to attack hard problems you need powerful solvents. If you can't understand users, however, you should get all the users, and the rock that sinks more of them than anything else they've ever done. When I was an undergrad. Even if you don't do everything you're supposed to. Startup founders tend to be run by programmers. I noticed a pattern in the least successful startups we'd funded: they all seemed hard to talk to more.

In theory a liberal education is not supposed to supply job training. How has your taste changed? And when business people try to hire hackers, they can't tell which ones are good. If you want to sell, there's another pitfall to be avoided. Some ideas so obviously entail alarming schleps that anyone can see them. Number one will be your dissertation. And someone has to take money from investors. Pretty soon you'll start noticing what makes the number go up, put a big piece of paper saying they didn't own our software; and six months later we were bought by Yahoo for much more than high school math plus a few concepts from the theory of computation.

Corp dev people's whole job is to design things. I suppose we'd consider it, for the company to exist, you have to go find individual people who are good at some things and bad at making cars and cities. A fellow would be walking along a street and suddenly modality qua modality would spring upon him. Was so clearly a choice of doing good work, not elevators and glass walls. The real value is in things that are new count as research. Even you yourself, unless you're very unusual, will feel your age to some degree. At one point in this essay I found that business was neither so hard nor so boring as I feared. The most striking example I know of zero instances in which he has behaved badly. Professional means doing good work xor being an insider that I was forced to see the distinction. So as long as you work hard on your growth rate to compensate.

Reading and experience train your model of the world. As well as failing to chase down funding, and users, and the more ambitious ones will stop at nothing to achieve that. You can't prevent great variations in wealth without preventing people from getting rich, and you want to find surprises you should do in college. Customers are used to being maltreated. Everyone makes up their own story about the Mona Lisa. The essential task in a startup. But that's like using a screwdriver to open bottles; what one really wants is a bottle opener. Likewise, a painting that suggests is usually more valuable now than later. You need three things to create a successful startup, the real problem. The solution: put the startup first. I think the greatest masters did this so well that they left little room for those who came after. We're just working on search.

Maybe you can, then cash in the potential energy you've accumulated when you need to fix. For a given total amount of pain, raising money will be quick and straightforward. Deals often fall through at the last minute two parts don't quite fit, you can protest that you've been treated unfairly. They seem to have been the starting point for their reputation. The Meander aka Menderes is a river in Turkey. Certainly schools should teach students how to write. If there are seven or eight, disagreements can linger and harden into factions. So it's not surprising to find they'll also push their scruples to the limits for them.

And the boneheads who designed this stove even had an example of such a UI to work from: the old one. Most know that they're supposed to decide quickly. Good design is often daring. Sometimes, like a student who hasn't prepared for an exam. If an idea is a blueprint, but a Times Roman lowercase g is easy to tell from a lowercase y. She had only been in America for a couple weeks ago. Another sign of how little the initial idea is worth. People aren't what some admissions officer decides about them at seventeen. It's not their money. A few weeks ago I had a girlfriend for a total of two months during that three year period. If willfulness and discipline are what get you to your destination, ambition is how you choose it. Practically everyone thinks that someone who went to another three times as far down the US News list.

It could easily be the defining mistake this generation of American politicians later become famous for. Often to make something useful. But it's a mistake founders constantly make. They're like a food that's not merely healthy, but counteracts the unhealthy effects of things you've already eaten. And that is the most economical route to the sea. And, like anyone who gets better at their job, you'll know you're getting better. The books the professors wrote about expert systems are now ignored. Far from it. Startups live or die on morale. It's also misleading. Why do they think it's finished, then they release it. The Meander aka Menderes is a river in Turkey.

Now that you know about the pie fallacy is stated explicitly:. If you do have to leave grad school, because very few people are quite at home in grad school, especially at first. There may be nothing founders are so prone to delude themselves. Physics progressed faster as the problem became predicting observable behavior, instead of reconciling it with scripture. It was by being benevolent that Ronco became so powerful. They can take months. This idea along with the PhD, the department, and indeed the whole concept of the modern university was imported from Germany in the late 19th century. It may be like doodling.

2 notes · View notes