1) the waist is always smaller than you think it should be. what, his waist is small enough for someone hold it and have their fingers meet? no, go smaller
2) there’s always more armor around and covering parts/the side of the face than you think. also the face is really long sometimes?
3) theres a fine line between transformer and ‘guy with armor on’
4) dont be afraid to draw the armor that obviously looks like some kind of briefs or a jockstrap, thats the design and thats how it is
5) there are a few types of transformer body: top heavy, hourglass, Twink, short, and skinny. throw everything you know about human body proportions out the window. Make the shoulders bigger.
6) the canon art is wrong sometimes
so much pain and suffering has been squeezed into these sentences
you can’t tell me chihaya doesn’t love taichi when the girl literally abandoned her study session just to make sure taichi’s not alone in case he loses or if he wins in his b-kyuu match.
or when right after her a-kyuu promotion, she immediately went straight for taichi and hugged him THROUGH THE WINDOW just to ask him to play karuta with her again and be stronger together.
no matter where you and kisaki are in a place, he’ll always get to you when you need him no matter what its for. he’s at your beck and call like any good spouse after all ♡
You eye your husband across the room as he shares a drink with someone you know he’d rather put a bullet in than talk to. You’d long faded out of the conversation you managed to hold with the few people who gained your interest, your small group gathered at one of the round tables with a flute of champagne each.
Kisaki tries to catch your gaze but you’re already excusing yourself from the table, realizing it wasn’t just him occasionally eyeing you the whole night. You reach into your purse, taking out a box of Marlboro and shaking a stick out before grabbing your lighter. The metal igniter engraved with your initials unable to light no matter how many times you’ve flicked the lever.
Your brows furrow as you bite the cigarette between your teeth, still attempting to get the lighter to spark. In the next second, continuous flicks sound beside you. You’re surrounded by the warmth of small flames, callused hands holding a lighter each for you. You eye each holder, all of them wearing awaiting smiles anticipating who’ll be the lucky man you chose to lean into and light the end of your cigarette with.
But a delayed flick catches your attention, a familiar ringed hand holding a matching lighter out in front of you with the initials K.T. engraved on the front. His action caused the other men around you to close their lighters and retreat, knowing just who those initials stood for. And with a smile you lean in to hold your cigarette over his flame, finally inhaling the tobacco to calm your nerves.
Kisaki closes the lighter and tucks it back into his inner jacket pocket. “Shall we go?” He asks, holding his hand out for you to take.
And as you do, you all too knowingly show off the diamond on your engagement ring. The gem sticking out like the sorest of thumbs to the men who’s eyes still lingered on you.
It doesn’t matter how big the room was or how many people there were, you’ll walk out the same way you walked in; arm in arm and side by side with Kisaki as his most prized possession.
“That was quick.” You remark with a smirk, taking another drag of your cigarette and exhaling it into the night air. “Was he that easy?”
Your husband sighs, reminiscing the lengthy talk he just had with another one of Tokyo’s crime bosses, one who reciprocated an equal amount of dislike towards your husband as he did to him.
“Would’ve been a lot harder if you hadn’t promised him that share beforehand.” He looks back over his shoulder to the man you’re referring to. A hateful ache in his gut igniting just at the sight of him.
You copy his actions, only this time waving to the man your husband despised with a smile. Kisaki rolled his eyes when the he returned the gesture.
“I’m starting to think he likes who gave it to him more than the product itself.” He mutters, slipping his arm out of your hold to keep his hand secure on your waist instead, pushing the ground floor button on the elevator. “You sure you wanna leave so soon? We’ve only been here a couple hours.”
“A couple hours too long, this place is boring.” You huff, your facial expression changing as soon as you turn your head.
He chuckles. “Nothing seems to entertain you, does it?”
“Other than you, no. You know I only come to events like this to dress. I don’t come to mingle, that’s your thing.”
The elevator door opens with a ding and you discard your barely used cigarette before stepping in, the door closing to the same sound.
“And besides, even if I was the one invited,” you turn to him, tracing circles on his chest as he subconsciously pulls you closer. “I’d never come to one of these if you weren’t there for me to drag along.”
The most physically canon CS fact I can think of and manifest post s4ep 8 during the 2 year time jump that would have 100% occured is that during the very first time Zack went (or was allowed) into Julia’s apartment, he spilt an entire full jar of lime green glitter glue slime on her carpet and then tried to blame it on Chase and/or Ivy when the horrified Julia found the massive green and sparkly stain on her carpet after he failed to inconspicuously toss a throw pillow onto it to hide it. Do note, this all occured within the first 10 minutes of entering her place and subsuquently being left alone for 2 seconds.
You know you’ve been feeling bad whenever you set an alarm 2 hours early so you can wake up, check if you have a headache, and if so take medicine and have a few more hours to sleep if necessary
