i felt like rendering this picture

Imagine Eggsy’s face the first time he sees you dressed up.

You’d walked into the room about a minute ago and Eggsy still hadn’t said anything.

You felt somewhat smug considering that the entire time you’d known him he had never been rendered speechless, he didn’t even have a sarcastic comment to throw your way.

“You can take a picture if you like,” you told him enjoying this all too much.

He snapped out of it and did his best to compose himself, “I was just thinkin’ about something ok, now come on, don’t wanna be late.” He said, not looking you in the eye.

“Would that something happen to be me?” You asked innocently a small smile gracing your features as you punched his  arm lightly.

“Got no clue what you mean,” he answered quickly as he pulled you out the door.

Eggsy spent the rest of the night trying to deny the fact that he had feelings for his best friend and you spent the whole night smiling knowing that he did.

Amnesia (Sherlock x Reader)

Warning: Angst up the ass. Character death and feels. Yeah that it 

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted

I thought about our last kiss, how it felt the way you tasted

And even though your friends tell me you’re doing fine

You were racing Sherlock back to the flat.  Sherlock (a very drunk one) was stumbling but close behind.

“(Y/n)!!! You’re cheating!!! This coat is slowing me down!!!” His words were slurred and some were stuttered.

You ignored him and continued running until you bumped into the door of 221B.  You fell back and into Sherlock’s arms. A giggle ripped through the two of you “I will catch you when you fall!” Sang the detective from the top of his lungs.

Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he’s right beside you?
When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?
Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?
‘Cause I’m not fine at all

It was movie night with Mrs. Hudson, John, and Sherlock. The movie of choice was Titanic and sniffles were sound through the room. You and Mrs. Hudson were holding napkins to your noses and eyes.  Sherlock was correcting information and John was throwing popcorn at the black haired man when he interrupted the movie.

I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the make-up running down your face
And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish, we ever made
I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape
'Cause I’m not fine at all

It happened on the way to your job at Scotland Yard.  You felt as if someone was following you but shrugged off the feeling.  A little voice in the back of your head was warning you.  It was words of advice from Sherlock you had received when you first met him. “Always trust your instincts.  If you feel someone watching you someone is most likely watching you.” When you decided to look behind you a rag was placed over your mouth.  Slowly the chemical on the rag began to render you unconscious.

The pictures that you sent me they’re still living in my phone
I’ll admit I like to see them, I’ll admit I feel alone
And all my friends keep asking why I’m not around
It hurts to know you’re happy, yeah, it hurts that you’ve moved on
It’s hard to hear your name when I haven’t seen you in so long

You prayed for Sherlock to find you but your kidnapper made it seem as if it would never happen.  Relentless comments about how he did find you yet filled your brain, while cuts and bruises filled your skin.  After a week of torment, Sherlock found you with blood in your hair and your eyes shut.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!!! Wake up, please.  Princess, please wake up!”

A red light appeared in your head and a bullet shot through the air. A letter fell next to the chair and a sobbing Sherlock.  The paper read “Moriarty sends his regards.”

It’s like we never happened, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?
'Cause I’m not fine at all
I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the make-up running down your face
And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish, we ever made
I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape

Your funeral was quite except for the sobs of those who attended. Lestrade was like a father to you; John was like a brother; Mrs. Hudson a mother; Molly was your best friend and she couldn’t speak, just cry, And Sherlock was standing there. He lost the love of his life after six months of fighting. Snow fell around the gathering and not a word was spoken.

If today I woke up with you right beside me
Like all of this was just some twisted dream
I’d hold you closer than I ever did before
And you’d never slip away
And you’d never hear me say

The consulting detective stopped playing the stringed instrument and focused on the mantel above a roaring fire. A black velvet box laid untouched for many months. Inside was a Dimond ring which was supposed to be your engagement ring.  Unfortunately, you passed before Sherlock could propose. Salty tears fell and a ball of rage grew in Sherlock.


I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the make-up running down your face
And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish, we ever made
I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape
'Cause I’m not fine at all

No, I’m really not fine at all
Tell me this is just a dream
'Cause I’m really not fine at all

Sherlock threw the violin into the fireplace.  The sound of fire crackling at the new fuel filled the air.  No matter how hard he tried Sherlock wouldn’t be able to forget you. One thing he knew for sure, Moriarty was going to pay and Sherlock was going to make sure it would happen. Personally.

I don’t know how many other people really pay attention to this, but while I have a great appreciation for how they kept the “side-mouths” on all the Sonic characters during the transition from 2D to 3D, I feel like… there’s a really thin line between decentered 3D-model mouths that work, and ones that don’t? I think probably Shadow the Hedgehog and Sonic ‘06 did it best, because in the CG cutscenes their mouths would often switch sides to whichever was more visible to the camera, but if the camera was facing them head-on their mouths wouldn’t really stray far from the center. Basically their mouth position would move to follow the camera, and as such looked… not natural, but like, it worked? Like they weren’t really trying to keep an #aesthetic, they were just working with whatever looked best. Which meant a lot of diversity in where the mouth would end up on a character’s face:

There are more side-mouths than not, but like, even when they do go to one side or another, they might move upwards to be more visible, only move partway to the side, etc.

But man, in the more recent games I’ve noticed that they want to keep that #side-mouth #aesthetic 110% consistent. You never see their mouths in the middle of their face anymore. In fact there seem to be only two mouth positions - diagonal on the left, and diagonal on the right. It almost looks like they’re working camera angles around where the mouth is “allowed” to be in any given shot, rather than the other way around:

Like, see how their mouths are all in exactly the same spots, regardless of the actual camera angle? Not to mention Knuckles here, these are two adjacent frames in the same shot:

Before when a character’s mouth had to switch sides of the face for the sake of the camera, it would actually slide across their face to the other side, but they’re so determined to keep the side-mouth thing 100% consistent that they just swapped his mouth out between frames. You can see it happen in real time, if you know what you’re watching for.

Like, I get that animating a character whose mouth will constantly be swapping sides of their face on a 3D model is a little more complicated than a character who just has a normal, stationary mouth. Tails, Amy, and Blaze typically don’t have the side-mouth thing going on, for instance. But I loved the way the older 3D games dealt with it, before non-CG cutscenes also started implementing the side-mouth detail. It felt more, I dunno, organic, like they were really taking the time to make sure the character’s expression was being properly rendered at all times, playing to the camera rather than forcing the camera angles to conform. Like notice how the above pictures of Sonic and Rouge are at the same exact angle? That’s what I mean. I don’t want to call it lazy, because again, it’s a lot of work, but it doesn’t have the same charm when it’s so meticulously regulated like this. “No, his mouth can only be in one of these two pre-defined spots. You want to have a camera angle of him talking from behind? Well, just make him awkwardly dip his head and nearly break his neck so that you can still get his mouth on camera!”

Idk. It’s a super petty complaint, I realize, but it also still bugs me.

So I saw the picture that @darkxyzduelist posted of Yuto that an animator drew…. And I just… Felt like coloring it for some reason. I think It turned out okay? Some of the picture was a little hard to figure out exactly what was what, and the hair had no shading so it’s mostly guess work based on other shots of Yuto I traced…. The chair didn’t have shading either… I’m really bad at shading. But uh….. Enjoy?

Sketchbook

Pairing: Cullen x f!Lavellan

Rating: SFW, fluff

Summary: Cullen learns more about the Inquisitor’s hobbies.

Note: I use my own Inquisitor here. She’s an elven mage and her name is Othinus.

A short, somewhat cracky follow up here: Caught


He always noticed when she was drawing. Even at Haven, where the snow covered almost any possible surface, he’d see her perched somewhere, scribbling intently into a notebook. At the time he didn’t feel it was appropriate to ask about it.

Even at Skyhold, where their duties grew significantly, he’d still sometimes find her sitting cross legged in some impossible place. She would be in all kinds of different locations: outside on the wall overlooking the injured, sitting snugly in the library, under a tree in the garden. She even took her supplies with her on her journeys outside of Skyhold. He would wonder if she would draw any dragons and giants…and then shudder at how she could even find the opportunity to portray the beasts.

Keep reading

My Dad the Bodybuilder

The Profiles Issue of VICE included a portfolio of photographs of NYC-based artist Aneta Bartos’ 69-year-old father, titled simply, Dad. I have been following the development of Aneta’s work since 2012, when I covered a group show she was included in for TIME‘s LightBox blog. We met in person last year, when I wrote about her show Boys for the Camera Club of New York’s blog. That show, composed of murky Polaroids of boys masturbating, was installed in the rooms of a somewhat seedy Flatiron district hotel, and it made me realize that Aneta was thinking about her work in a much more comprehensive way that simply creating images to be disseminated—she controls their context as carefully as possible, and is an exacting craftsman in terms of color and print quality. She is sensitive to her subjects, and watches prudently over the ways her images of them are presented.  
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  Early this spring, Aneta showed me photographs of her bodybuilder father she had begun making on a trip home to Poland. Using a Kodak Instamatic camera and long-expired film, her father is rendered in his native landscape, a powerful and imposing figure set against pastoral scenes and glowing sunsets. The aesthetic of the resulting images oscillates between family album and soviet propaganda poster, but the quality of the pictures is always dreamy. "His presence takes me back to my youth, to what felt like an endless stretch of days in a worry-free world anchored by my powerful and loving father,“ Aneta told me. "I reflect on how his commitment to education, fitness, organic food, and the simplicity of basic living has kept him so young and full of vitality.” Since we published these pictures, Aneta has returned to Poland and continued to photograph. When I saw the latest pictures, I couldn’t help but think the Dad series might become her best work yet. But I wanted to know more about the relationship between photographer and subject, because it’s not as if she is photographing just any model. It changes the dynamic to photograph someone who is this close to you. I talked to both Aneta and her father Zbigniew to find out more.   VICE: Zbigniew, what is your health regimen like?Zbigniew Bartos: Before I turned 60, I ate everything, without any special diets or restrictions. During that time most of the food in Poland was natural and healthy, therefore spending a few hours in the gym three times a week seemed like enough to stay healthy and in shape.  
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  After I turned 60 however, I began to pay more attention to nutrition. First of all, I buy all my food directly from farmers whom I already know. I prepare most of my food myself. I also make my own wine and health tinctures.  
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  I eat small amounts a few times a day making sure that the meals contain a good balance of acid and alkaline. I always consume a lot of proteins derived both from meats and vegetables. I eat garlic, onions, tomatoes and radishes daily and my favorite fruit is apples and wild blueberries picked from the forest.

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