Anatomy Practice Drawing Novels & Stories

“Good morning.” The students groaned, walking back to their seats, the class slowly became quiet. “Well, back to human anatomy, where we left off last week.” Right. Medical school…another course I took for fun. It's not like I needed it anyway. I sat up straighter, tried to focus as he clicked to the first slide. Muscular structure. Diagrams of arms and legs. I took out my pen and started jotting. Slowly I glanced around, an image flashed before my eyes, I had to turn back immediately.

But I didn’t want to exaggerate those features in my drawing either. I started with a basic head shape, remembering from my elementary art classes to draw an oval and put a T threw it for proportion. I continued with the body without working on the face or hair at the moment, struggling with the length of the arms and how to draw the fingers in a way that didn’t look too unskilled. I erased my hands several times before I finally decided they were okay. Then, I moved on to the rest of my body, deciding the picture would stop just above my knees.

My eyes opened to a soft sound from his wolf, and to him gazing at me, wanting me to climb up. Holding onto his back, I leaped up and sat down with my legs across on each side of his back. His body is solid and hard, and I felt the movement of his body under me as he came from his crouching position. My hips moved with his motion as he walked me to an open window. As he's nearing it, he quickly looks at me before turning back to the window, and I lie on my belly, wrapping both of my arms around his neck, knowing he's about to jump, and close my eyes, scared.

I leaned back slightly, eyes still on the drawing. “It’s brilliant,” I said first, because it was. “But… the shoulder.” She blinked. She didn't seem surprised. I pointed, gently tapping the shoulder part. “Right here. It’s too stiff. See how the shoulder line forms almost a perfect right angle from the neck? That will be fine for a mannequin or an anime, but if you're aiming for a realistic human drawing, it will come out looking slightly weird.” “Please, explain,” her voice was quiet but I could feel a hint of excitement.

“I’m sorry. I’m an Alpha. It’s in my nature, and despite everything, you’re still… my mate.” My cheeks heat a little at the reminder, but I shake my head again. “Get a grip on yourself next time. Ezra just wanted a portrait done to give to his girlfriend. If you consider that sexual, then you’ll be furious to find out that I drew fully nude men multiple times in college.” Arthur clears his throat. “You have?” I nod, glancing at him. “Yes. It’s common in figure drawing. It’s good to draw the body uninhibited by clothes, so that you can get a good grasp of the skeletal and muscular structure. I’ve drawn nude women, too.”

Then I reached the drawings. Someone had sat with a living thing and drawn it the way the old human anatomists drew, every line put down to be true rather than pretty. A figure, standing, filling the page. Not a man. It stood on two legs and had two arms, but the arms hung to the knees, longer than any arm I'd ever shaken. The jaw ran out too far and hung too heavy, built to hold more teeth than a face has room for. In its own panel beside it, the hands: longer in the palm than mine, the bone at the last joint of each finger hooked, a claw drawn back into the shape of a nail and not quite hidden there.

If one more wish could come true right then, I’d beg for the kind of class where he made me stand naked in front of everyone while the rest sketched my body… except he’d be the only one really looking, his eyes devouring every slick, trembling inch of me. I sat in the front row, pretending to listen as Dante’s deep voice rolled through the studio, talking about human anatomy and proportion. The man whose body I craved like nothing else—strong, experienced, nothing “old” about the way his shirt stretched across that powerful chest. I didn’t even realize I’d stopped drawing the assigned figure study. Instead, my pencil had gone rogue, sketching a male body that looked exactly like him: his bro

Adrian gestured for Padraig to go on. "Look here. This drawing looks like a person lying on the platform. This thickest line here seems to be the blood vessels around a human's neck. These connecting thinner lines are a network of capillaries. The blood vessels in our bodies are dense and difficult to identify by the naked eye, but this drawing is extremely detailed. In fact, I don't think it's a drawing at all." "You may be right." Adrian nodded. "Our ancestors were really good at these things, so you may be onto something. However, if these are blood vessels, does that mean we can only activate the mechanism using blood?"

Half-finished profiles, small studies of my mouth, my knuckles. He didn't just draw my hands. He drew the veins on my forearm. He drew the calluses on my fingers. He drew the scar on my left palm. I feel something in my chest lurch. This isn't a sketch book. It's an obsession, and I’m so here for it. I flip a page and my breath stills in my throat. It’s me, drawn from the side, on my knees. My head is bowed, my hands clasped behind my back. It’s not last night. It’s from a drill. But the focus he’s captured is all sex. The tension in my spine, the line of my ass.

Drawing has been my talent from little and I had some so many work of arts. I sketched out that comes to my mind, especially the moon and butterflies but this time I decided to draw Adeline. Everything was set–the graphite pencils, markers, colored pencils , ink pens etc. I started with the overall pose, sketching out the outline of her body. I added the head and face according to Adeline's – round shaped face, gorgeous green eyeballs, plump pink lips with fine contours. I remembered every detail of how she looked. Her beautiful figure, lean yet captivating.