I love your cosmic owl design like when I see him I goes "yeah the owl, that's him". Can you share some thoughts on his designing process I'd love to learn a bit
Also he gives off Garfield vibe(affectionate) for some reason
ooo!
i did this really quickly but i hope this makes some sense- i had a ton of fun designing him and im really glad a lot of people like him ! ! i rlly wanted him to read as cosmic owl as much as i could.
i also put in some lil character traits for this version of him that i think fit
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If it is ok to ask, how much time does your art take in total, more specifically the rendering?
This is gonna sound like a very generic answer lol, but it tends to vary piece to piece!
If it helps though, I try to always show the total time that each individual part of the drawing process (sketch, ink, color) took in real-time in all of my speedpaints, so if you want to know exactly how long the rendering (/colouring) took for any piece on my channel, you should see it written in the bottom-right-corner of the video! (^^)/
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Motorcyclist Bakugou who looks so mean, so badass and deranged and cruel, who turns out to be a bigger softie than you thought.
Motorcyclist Bakugou that you meet at a bar one night. It’s pretty empty besides the occasional straggler, and you sit beside him at the bar with a sigh. He’s ready to complain about you choosing to sit right here when there’s an entirely empty row, but when he looks at you, all his irritation melts right off of him.
You two talk for a while, hit it off, as you exchange banter back and forth, and before you know it, you’re walking out with him. you're not too drunk to be stumbling, but enough to let him pin you against an old brick wall as you walk to his ride and let him kiss you. its sloppy and full of tongue and teeth, and you can't get enough of him, especially when he hikes a thick thigh between your own to let you grind against it. you find it in you to pull away finally, when someone walks by, but its hard when he bites his kiss swollen bottom lip and nips at your own.
you get him off of you though, with a promise of giving him more when you finally make it back to his place. you're surprised though, when he walks you to the only bike in the lot, all sleek and shiny and black and orange with explosions painted on the side.
you make a remark about how pretty the bike is, but he only has eyes for how pretty you look, all mesmerized and slack jawed. he hands you his helmet, letting you hop on after him, grabbing him around his middle tight as you cop a feel of his hardened stomach. he thinks his dick explodes though, when you whisper to him,
"I've always fantasied about being bent over a pretty bike." its all the initiative he needs to zoom off into the night, popping a wheelie occasionally to hear you squeal and giggle.
and when you arrive at his house, big and showy with a private garage, you both have the good idea of parking that bike right in the privacy you two need. he barely puts the kick stand down, barely lets you pull the helmet off before you're being grabbed and groped every which way. you let him, let his mouth roam your skin, and your hands pull off his shirt, until you're both in your underwear and panting against the others lips.
without being prompted to do so, you turn your back to bakugou, looking over your shoulder as you bend over his bike. you pull your underwear to the side, let him see the slick strings that snap from your lips to your inner thighs, grinning when he practically salivates like a damn dog. you hear his zipper before you see it, giggling when he groans about you being a little minx, before you feel his tip slide between the wetness of your lips.
and as he pushes into you, you rock a little on the seat of his bike, eyes fluttering close in bliss, as you think that you finally got to experience being railed like how you deserve over a pretty bike by an even prettier man.
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1 am thoughts with kit;
mdni (here is other academic rival!coryo)
on the topic of being academic rivals with coryo, little petty fights would happen all the time.
even during school hours, where you’re speaking in harsh, hushed tones to one another in the library because he took the book you needed on purpose of course.
Yes, he did need to book for an assignment. But, he already read it and is pretending he still needs it just to piss you off. And you know it. Even though it’s a dumb fight and you know you’ll get the book in time in some way, you’ve had it. You’re tired of the fighting with him, with how annoyed he makes you feel.
Coriolanus doesn’t expect you to straight up ignore him when he asks you what you’re gonna do about him having the book. You turn on your heel and go back to where you set up at a study table, aggressively putting your notebook and pens away, not daring to look at him even when you hear his footsteps approach.
“Are you gonna answer me? I have the book you need, what’re you gonna do about it?”
You don’t respond still. Ignoring him as though he’s not there. He’s searching for a fight. Coriolanus wants to hear you snap at him, but he’s getting angrier the more you ignore him.
“Can you stop with the silence? I’ll give you the book,” he tries, seeing if that will make you talk to him but you don’t. You finish packing your back, zipping it up and before you have the chance to sling it over your shoulder, you feel his hand grab your jaw to turn your face to him.
“Don’t ignore me,” he spits out, in a stern tone even he didn’t expect to have. His grip isn’t hurting, but it makes you freeze in your place, feeling vulnerable but also turned on. Which is another thing in of itself. His hands were so nice. And he held your face like he needed to. Made you look at him. It was always difficult to suppress your attraction to Coriolanus, and he’s making it harder.
“Sorry,” he mutters, letting go of your jaw, as though he snapped out of it and realized how aggressive he had gotten, that your breath hitched in a way he wondered if you liked it or if he was overthinking.
“Thought you’d want me to ignore you, Snow. I annoy you so much, maybe it’s better if we just leave each other alone,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady.
His mouth parts to say something, but he stops himself. He looks at the book in his hands and just holds it out to you, waiting for you to take it. You do, turning to put it into your back.
Coriolanus clears his throat and steps closer, leaning his head down so he can whisper to your ear, “I don’t want you to ignore me.”
He watches for your reaction but the moment you lock your eyes back to his, he’s looking away, standing up straight and fixing the strap of his bag on him, starting to walk off, but not without saying, “see you in class, dork.”
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