#trying to decide which parts to gif and how to cut these frames was brutal

[bankaizen]

‧₊˚ EVERY BANKAI IN BLEACH: (3 / ?)

3. KUCHIKI BYAKUYA — SENBONZAKURA KAGEYOSHI

Senbonzakura Kageyoshi (千本桜景厳, Vibrant Display of a Thousand Cherry Blossoms) To activate it, Byakuya drops his sword straight down; the sword does not have to be completely intact for Byakuya to activate his Bankai, as he can simply drop all the pieces at once with both hands. The sword phases into the ground, as though it were a pool of water. Energy ripples expand out, turning the surrounding area dark, and within seconds, two rows of a thousand giant blades rise up from the ground. Those thousand swords scatter, and countless flying blades pierce the enemy. No one knows the exact number of blades generated, and no one can dodge or even see the movements of these blades. The number of blades is great enough that Byakuya can simultaneously use them for offense and defense. He commonly forms them into large masses to obliterate opponents instantaneously. As they move through the air like torrents of waves, they give the appearance of cherry blossoms flowing swiftly along the wind.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Maybe some modern au with trevor? How are you enjoying the show btw? 😊

I’m enjoying it so far! I’ve been meaning to watch it for a long while so as far as I can say it’s a great show and I can see why people like it so much.

A/n: this is more or less a ‘patching him up’ kind of fic cuz I couldn’t think of anything else at the time.

You didn’t flinch like you should’ve when you heard the window open, followed by a heavy thud of a body dropping against the carpeted floor of your room, “fucking hell.” You looked up from your phone, unamused, “Trevor, how nice of you to drop in.” The brunettes head popped up above your bed frame, wide eyed and covered in everything ranging from bruises to scratches. He looked as though he’d sneaked into the wrong room several times and got what was coming to him promptly afterwards thinking it was yours like scenarios of the past have proven; So when your neighbours would come to your door, gripping Trevor by the collar like a disobedient dog that shitted on their carpet. Needless to say they weren’t so fond of him and were quick to dispose of him swiftly at your doorstep to deal with instead.

This was your life and you were forced to accept it the moment you were introduced to the Belmont by his other friends, Adrian and Sypha, who were workmates of yours at the quaint little shop down at the end of the street from where you resided. They were lovely and respectful people but the same couldn’t be said for Trevor who was a notorious dickhead that was too blunt and unapologetically himself for his own good; which was the primary reason why he found himself in so many fights and on the receiving end of some brutal smacks across the face from some poor bastard he rejected so harshly. There were so many things to say about him and none of them were in any way shape or form ever in a good light.

Though yet you found yourself caring for this dickhead more then you’d like to believe you did compared to when you first met him. “Y/n! What a nice night we’re having-“ “cut the crap Belmont and get on the bed so I can tend to your injuries and toss you to the curb afterwards.” You promptly cut him off as you hauled yourself out of bed to retrieve the first aid from the drawer you’ve kept closest to your bed incase for these types of nights while Trevor slung off his shirt at the foot of your bed before making himself comfortable against the headboard. “You know,” Trevor began after a moment of uncomfortable silence, “if you wanted me out of my shirt you could’ve just asked instead of waiting me to get injured to do so.” You looked up from disinfecting his cuts after putting cold compresses against his bruises, unamused at the fact he decided that now would be the greatest time to say such a thing. Noting your lack of reaction Trevor could only cringe, leaning back against the headboard to let you continue your work, “tough crowd.” He muttered under his breath.

You ‘accidentally’ pressed against his injury harder then you should, making him hiss in discomfort, “how about you try to read the room next time before opening your mouth Belmont.” He made a grunt of acknowledgment, “good. Now shut up and let me work.” You removed your hand from his injury and began to bandage him up or close up deeper cuts with butterfly closure strips while Trevor watched your hands skim over his skin, expertly checking his bruises before putting the first aid back into the drawer and disposing of the gloves and rubbish in the bin. “Isn’t this the part where you throw me out?” You hummed not paying attention to his words as you cast glanced at his bare torso with a grimace as you eyed the scars from past altercations you were forced to patch up since the brunette couldn’t for the life of him that you didn’t notice your hand tracing against one of the larger scars until Trevor clasped your hand in his, pressing your hand flat against his abdomen, trapping it there.

“Y/n. Look at me.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, noting how his blue eyes had darkened significantly form the last time you looked in them. His other hand grasped chin to keep you there as he pressed his forehead against yours, his warm breath brushing against your skin, “I don’t think I thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me and for putting up with a dickhead like me.” His voice uncharacteristically soft as his thumb brushed against the skin of your jaw,” I don’t know where to start but I believe I have an idea that is if you accept.” You raised a brow at him, “are you asking me out?” Trevor smiled. “You’re a smart one I’ll give you that. So what do you say?”

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[aceb]

Layers

"Point, line, and plane are the building blocks of design." (Lupton 33) The point can be defined as a mark in a position of space. A line can be described as a single point that continues for a distance, or as the connection between two points. The purpose of a line in graphics is to help the artist to communicate to the viewers what it is they are supposed to be seeing or taking notice of. Layers can create a sense of depth in an image with point, line, and planes. Layers are the different levels at which one can place an image. Layers can be stacked, merged, or defined when creating a digital image. In this design, I used both point, line, and plane and layers as a way to create a nostalgic image. The person in the image is an African American singer and songwriter named is Frank Ocean. He is best known for his song “Thinking About You” on Channel Orange created in 2012. The reason I decided to draw him is his music speaks to me differently than anything I’ve heard before, you can say he is one of my favorite artist. I wanted my favorite artist to be in many favorite city, so I choose Mount Fuji in Japan.

Rhythm and Balance

In this design, I explored the power of perception or the ability to see, hear, or become aware of something through the senses. The words I choose to explore was the famous hashtag started by black Twitter “BLM’. BLM stands for “Black Lives Matters” which is a decentralized political and social movement advocating for non-violent civil disobedience in protest against incidents of police brutality and all racially motivated violence against black people. I wanted to emphasize the issue of Black lives to raise awareness of the death of innocent black bodies in America. I used a black woman as the face of this design to show the power of the black women’s role in the movement. Most of the time a black woman is defending herself and others on the front line. As Lupton said, “By exploiting the brain’s capacity to find and create order, designers construct simple, direct logos, layouts, and interfaces. In addition to seeking out clear, direct communication solutions, they can also use the processes of perception to invent surprising forms that challenge viewers to fill in the gaps.” (265) I wanted to challenge the viewer to fill in the gaps and think about why BLM is important to them by boldly presented the issue. I used eye contact as a way to manipulate perception as well.

Color

The perception of color depends on how the color is presented, the brightness, and the character of light. We can also perceive a given color in relation to the other colors. “Color can convey a mood, describe reality, or codify information. “Words like “gloomy,” “drab,” and “glittering” each bring to mind a general climate of colors, a palette of relationships. Designers use color to make some things stand out (warning signs) and to make other things disappear (camouflage).” (208) When creating the art based on Immigration and Native American land I thought about politics. During the election month, America seems to be divided into two. I wanted this design to bring awareness to the divide and create a central understanding. To create relationships between color and monotones I used the color red to emphasize the blood of millions of Native Americans and blue to express the beauty and pride that still exists. I used monotone green to create a feeling of warmness.

Boarders

A border is a design that runs lengthwise along the edge of a design.“Whether simple or decorative, a border creates a transition between image and background. Against the pale wall of a room, for example, a black picture frame sharply separates a work of art from its surroundings. Alternatively, a frame whose color is close to that of the wall blends the work of art with the room around it.” (Lupton 364) The purpose of my boarder was to emphasize my design of the Amur Leopards. These animals are one of the top ten animals to go extinct. The Amur leopard is threatened by poaching, habitat loss, and deforestation or of their land. Their natural habitat is also threatened by forest fires and the construction of new roads. I choose a black border to express boldness. I also juxtaposed the image to make a point that they're endangered.

Gestalt Principles

(5) Gestalt principals. Gestalt principles include similarity, continuation, closure, proximity, ground, symmetry, and order. “Building on memory and experience, the brain fills in gaps and filters out extraneous data.” (p. 99) Gestalt theory emphasizes that anything is greater than its parts. Gestalt principles can elevate a design that seems like it's fighting for a user's attention to one that offers a natural interaction that makes your design feel familiar while guiding users toward the action you want them to see. The goal of Gestalt’s theory is to teach people to become aware of sensations within themselves and their environment so that they respond reasonably to a situations. In this design, I used this Ghanises woman to communicate beautiful and pain. The interpretations could go in many directions but one thing you cant deny is the Ghanises flag behind her. In this flag, the star would normally be in the middle. However, she is the star. Her heart shines bright but her skin is brighter.

Frame

Framing is the presentation of visual elements in an image about other objects. Indeed, balance is a prized commodity in our culture, and it is no surprise that our implicit, intuitive relationship with it has equipped us to sense balance--or imbalance--in the things we see, hear, smell, taste, and touch.” (p. 49) Framing can make an image more aesthetically pleasing and keep the viewer's eye focused on the framed objects. “A frame can serve to either emphasize or downplay its contents.” (p. 125) In this design, I used the frame to make the perception of the camera looking down. The jacket as well as flying plane is meant to catch the viewers eye first. Jacques Derrida defined framing as a structure that is both present and absent. The frame is subservient to the content it surrounds, disappearing as we focus on the image or object on view. The mechanical eye tends to cut the camera into fields of vision. The point of this frame is to look deeper into the mind of the person in the image. The statement is that the person is at a higher level of thinking, his mind is open. This frame created a condition for better understanding of the image.

Transparency

In design, transparency can be defined as something that is nearly or completely invisible. Words, pictures, and textures can all become transparent. Lupe suggests that “…transparency suggests clarity and directness.” Yet in design, transparency is often used to create dense, layered imagery built from color and texture. In this design I used a brand name I’ve been experimenting with called “fade away”. Fade away represents the fading of the mind from the world in order to elevate and become closer with the universe. “Transparency means a simultaneous perception of different spatial locations. . . . The position of the transparent figures has equivocal meaning as one sees each figure now as the closer, now as the farther one” Gyorgy Kepes”. (Lupton 451) Transparency is often used not for the purposes of clarity, but to create dense, layered imagery built from veils of color and textures. I lowered the opacity to 17 and added red lettering to a black background to make the words stand out.

Diagram

This diagram design was inspired by anime styled drawing in a series called “Monster’’. A diagram is a simplified drawing showing the appearance, structure, or workings of a design in a schematic structure. “Diagrams allow us to see relationships that would not come forward in a straight list of numbers or a verbal description.” (Lupton 215) This diagram has both words and pictures laying out more background information. The words directly respond to the image falling under the category of either good or bad. I wanted to explore the visual aspect of the words “good” and “bad”. I used angel to represent good and devil to represent bad. Though a simple style the message was still able to be understood. The overarching message of the image was that love is above all. In all images love has been presented in some way or form. Diagrams add a layer of detail to a design that can make it look more professional.

Grid

(8) Grid. In graphic design, a grid is a structure made up of intersecting straight or curved lines used to structure content. Grids are tools for organizing space, text, images, and other elements placed in a design. Grids add structure to a design. They lead to rational standardized systems that help people absorb the information trying to be communicated. The grid serves as an framework on which a designer can organize graphic elements in a rational manner. Grids allow designers to add elements to a layout while using the grid structure. In this design, I wanted the theme to be digital so I used colors like deep blue, red, and yellow. The Grid also gives this design a digital feel with horizontal, vertical, curved, and straight lines. The lines give depth to the image but also gives the image a 3D effect.

Motion

Motion is one of the most exciting aspects in graphic design. “Motion is a kind of change, and change takes place in time. Motion can be implied as well as literal…” (Lupton 233) Motion in graphic design is often used in the film industry with Openings to movies, television shows, and news programs can use photography to make the introduction. In this design I used motion to show the process of a seed growing. Before the seed grew, it rained, the sun came out, and once the seed finished growing a flower bloomed. This process is not easy it involves patience and time. Motion graphics are pieces of animation or digital footage that create an illusion of motion or rotation. Animation is my favorite form of motion. The design is all hand drawn using the flip book method. The flip book method is basically taking multiple flashcards and combining them by flipping them to create the illusion of motion.