Airy Fanart Novels & Stories

See you in next chapters for fun and giggles. Gift for us... I got a fanart image for Banks & Eleanor. It's my current profile picture. Hope they look as imagined. Xie Xie

I asked, half-hoping he'd just simmer down. "Like it? Anne, this is— Look here, you got the curve of the visor just right and the mouth guard detail is perfect. Do you know how much incorrect fan art I've seen?" I blinked at him. "Just how much fan art have you seen?" "A lot. Your dad's is my favorite, but he might have some competition now," Victor said eagerly. "What else can you draw?" "I don't know. Whatever." I shrugged, trying to stay casual even as my face started to heat up. "You want me to draw a Zord or something?"

Letting the paint come together the way it wants. I spin around and throw my hands up. I paint the face that's emerging on the canvas. My paint forms a face that's the subject of my secret infatuation. Bastian in a blue dress shirt with two buttons undone. I rock and wiggle to the music. When the song ends, I hear clapping behind me. I yelp and spin around. Pressing pause on my phone. Bastian is smiling, sitting on the arm of one of my armchairs. "That was good."

I continued, changing the subject just enough to keep her guessing, “they’re starting a fan club for me.” Aria rolled her eyes. “You must be thrilled.” “It’s going to be wild. Girls wanting me to sign their boobs, I heard.” “Oh my God,” she muttered under her breath. I popped open my locker, dug around for a second, and pulled out the shirt I had been saving. Holding it up, I proudly displayed it for her. Black cotton, bold white letters, a photo of me mid-throw on the field, and under it in cheesy gold lettering: Kai Blackthorn’s No. 1 Fan.

He answered, “But as someone who loves art, I think it’s absurd that Illustrations can’t be called art. I mean look at Gina Lee’s works for example,” Aira felt her heart flutter at the mention of the name and tried to hide it. “Yes, so true…” She answered, “ And to answer your question, I am not nearly as good as Gina Lee, but, I usually go under an alias. I work on commissions so my work is not widely known,” “ I don’t work so far from your area of expertise, so I may know,” He commented. Aira was about to answer him when she suddenly remembered her first drafts in the backseat of her car,

Greetings to all my wonderful readers! As you've likely noticed, I have actual artwork of my characters for the cover of my book now. This was a commission I paid for from a very dear artist friend by the name of Rydi on DeviantART also known as lucia-garcia on ArtCorgi. We've known each other for a long time now, and I was super happy she gave me permission to use the old commissions in this way, so if you like her style, feel free to check her out.

Amara’s POV The shift was painful. I could not believe it. Looking at myself from the back of my mind, I realized we are huge, three tails, red and white in color. Everyone is looking at us in awe. Thinking to myself, I don’t even know her name. “Skadii,” a voice says to me. Taken aback at the response, “excuse me?” I say. My name... It’s Skadii. I am your Lycan and you are my human. Together, we will do great things, the voice replies. Not sure what to say, I just keep quiet. Looking at everyone in front of me through eyes that aren’t mine but are, I can see their... their fear and astonishment. Skadii takes one look at Blake. “Mate,” she rumbles, then snaps her jaws at Thalia. Thalia takes

At the way they moved. At the way they watched her. the way they weren’t afraid. And something inside her Shifted again. “They’re not scared…” she whispered. And that? That angered her. The wind rose. Stronger. Sharper like knives Darker. “I will make them afraid.” Ryan’s heart dropped. “Aria—no.” She was giving them what they wanted But she didn’t hear him. Or maybe She chose not to. The ground cracked violently beneath her feet. The air twisted. Water from the moisture in the air condensed instantly

Anyway. Mea cried for that last phase. The eyeliner kept making her tear up and her cheeks would get smudged of tears. Her resulting icon was that of a widow at her husband’s funeral. Good thing Miggy still found a way to make her look pretty whilst giving up on the eyeliner.