Who Is The Hardest My Hero Academia Character To Draw?

Cent, short for Maleficent, recently found out that she is the daughter of the great demon Beelzebub when she got a pair of horns on her eighteenth birthday instead of a pair of skating shoes. She finally got her answer why she never once felt that she belonged, turns out, she is not entirely human. When her estranged dad came knocking to take her away from her wretched foster life, Cent grabs the opportunity to be with her only ‘living’ family. But, he is called the great demon for a reason. After disturbing her life, he drops her like a sack of potatoes in front of the gloomy gates of Transylvania Academy. She realized that before her great demon dad can accept her, she still needs to prove herself worthy. Does she have what it takes to carry the privilege as an only child of a great demon? Does she have what it takes to be a monster?

He is my art coach. And he sucked my dick after our first lesson, obviously, I didn't know he was gay! Now, I have to accept that I am impossibly attracted to a man who is eleven years older than me and a relationship between us could never be possible….or? ~~~    “Do you regularly do this with men you meet for the first time?” Min-a asked, his eyes still appearing a little dilated.    “If you mean giving them a ride in my Mustang? No, I don’t do that.” Seung-ho replied, sounding serious. He glanced at Min-a to see a frown knitting his eyebrows close, and he chuckled. “If it would make you less grumpy, sucking your dick bruised my jaw. So, I don’t think I would be giving free blow jobs to any other man I meet in the near future…”  ~~~~ 22-year-old Model influencer, Korea's number one bad boy, Seo Min-a, has everything a boy could want: great looks, amazing talent, the only son of a billionaire family, millions of followers, and fangirls at his feet. Min-a’s quest to help his sister sign a contract with the defiant artist Kwan Seung-ho, who was a much older man leads him to a brilliant art coach who challenges his understanding of love and identity. Could they really be a couple in a society where being gay is seen as condemnable? What Epic Love Story will they write?

She cupped my face in her hands and said, slow and deliberate, "We're going to make a promise. Starting tomorrow, you'll draw one sun a day in your notebook. No skipping, no cheating—you have to fill it with thirty thousand suns. Only when you've drawn the last one can you come find me."

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

"Miss Elara, get out of my class." The icy command snapped Elara back to reality. She shot to her feet so fast her chair screeched against the floor, her heart hammering against her ribs. She blinked wildly at the imposing figure commanding the front of the room: Professor Adrian Kingsley. Confusion flared before anger could. Why was she being kicked out? She hadn't said a word! She had been sitting there perfectly quietly... Well, quietly sketching. Her gaze drifted down to the open notebook on her desk. Right in the center of the page was an incredibly detailed, charcoal rendition of the professor himself. She had captured the sharp jawline, the piercing eyes, and, for reasons she couldn't entirely justify…a set of ripped abs that definitely weren't visible beneath his tailored three-piece suit. ‘Oops.’ Heat rushed to her cheeks. Panicking, she leveled a fierce, righteous glare at him, trying to mask her guilt with pure audacity. But the emotionless ice statue didn't even blink. "Bag," he said coolly. "What?" "Take it and leave." Grinding her teeth, Elara aggressively shoved her notebook into her bag, silently vowing that this man would become the ultimate bane of her existence. She stomped down the steps, her posture rigid with fury. But just as she brushed past his podium, his deadly voice brushed against her ears. "And Miss Elara..." She paused, glaring. "If you're going to stare at your professor as though you'd like to strip him with your eyes," Adrian murmured, his gaze never leaving his lesson plans, "at least do it somewhere more discreet.” Elara's face erupted into a brilliant, mortified scarlet. "You—!" Choking on her own outrage and utterly devoid of a comeback, she flashed him a defiant middle finger, and stormed out, letting the heavy door slam behind her.

On the day of Zephyr’s art exhibition, I saw people stand around a portrait of myself. My cheeks were flushed, and I was bare. My posture was the one we used in bed last week for fun. Zephyr even got the mole on my chest right. As people stared at me mockingly, I demanded, “Why did you do this to me?” He was unbothered. “It’s not as if I asked you to sleep with someone else.” But he did let people see how I looked when I was having an intimate moment with my own boyfriend! “It’s just a painting. Why are you being so petty?” I was stunned by the mockery in Zephyr’s gaze. Then, I called my assistant. “I’m attending the international art festival as the organizer.”