The melody of infatuation is a haunting tune soft as a whisper, yet loud enough to shake the soul. It plays like wind threading through the strings of longing, unpredictable and irresistible. It’s the song you hear not with your ears, but your bones.
And then there are the eyes those oceans of mystery. To dive into them, even from a distance of six thousand years or a thousand kilometers, is to fall into a universe where time collapses and space dissolves. One glance can feel like a lifetime, and a lifetime like a single heartbeat.
A makeup artist in a pencil drawing is a quiet magician her world is made of shadows and light, not blush and glitter. There’s no color on the page, yet somehow, she breathes soul into a face with a single stroke.
The curve of her pencil is like a brush dipped in memory, shaping cheekbones with the tenderness of moonlight, defining eyes like they hold a secret only graphite knows.
She’s not the loudest in the room, nor the first to speak,
but every late night, every quiet morning,
she shows up—with eyes a little tired,
but a heart that never wavers.
While others chase shortcuts, she chooses the long road,
the one paved with pages, questions, and quiet persistence.
Every lesson, every challenge is a step—
not just toward better grades,
but toward a version of herself she’s always believed in.
Bien Hoa | 2018
This time, Angelina shifts her posture and with that simple movement, the entire mood of the drawing transforms. She turns slightly, perhaps tilting her head or relaxing a shoulder, and suddenly there's a new story unfolding. The change is subtle, but powerful: she no longer feels like a distant muse, but someone more present, more real. The lines now trace a quiet confidence, a choice to be seen rather than simply observed. It’s as if she’s inviting the viewer in, not to admire, but to understand.
Bien Hoa | 2018
The eye of the Chinese girl in the red dress holds the stillness of a secret and the spark of something unspoken. It glimmers like ink on rice paper, delicate, precise, yet full of quiet intensity. Beside her, a rose blooms, deep red and velvety, mirroring the color of her dress, a symbol of passion, grace, and untold stories.
Together, the eye and the rose speak the same silent language: elegance with edge, softness wrapped in strength. The red dress flows like a whisper in motion, but her gaze is what stays with you, sharp, poetic, unforgettable.
Bien Hoa | 2023
Was the kind of friend who felt like home. The one who knew your silence just as well as your laughter. She didn’t need grand gestures, just a small smile, a shared look, and somehow everything felt lighter. Had a way of being there exactly when you needed her, sometimes before you even realised it yourself.
Bien Hoa | 2017
In the drawing, Heni—the K-pop star—radiates a kind of stardom that doesn't scream, but glows. The pencil captures her with striking clarity: the soft curve of her jawline, the fierce focus in her eyes, and the effortless grace in her pose. She's not just beautiful—she's magnetic, as if the stage lights are still clinging to her even on paper.
Her expression holds both the sweetness of a girl-next-door and the sharp edge of someone who’s trained, sacrificed, and risen.
Bien Hoa | 2016
There’s something honest in his sound, like each lyric was pulled straight from a real moment, a late-night thought, or a feeling too big to say out loud. His voice carries both ease and emotion, the kind that makes you pause mid-thought or smile without meaning to.
Great songs aren’t just written—they’re felt, and that’s what sets Justin apart. Whether it’s a beat that moves you or a line that hits home, his music leaves a mark. He’s not just singing—he’s telling stories that somehow feel like your own.
There’s an unknown girl, quiet as dusk, with the Milky Way folded gently in her eye. Not just stars but galaxies, drifting like ancient secrets behind her gaze. She doesn’t speak much, but when she looks at you, it feels like time slows down, as if the universe pauses to listen.
She’s not lost, only unknown, like a constellation waiting for someone to trace her pattern. And in her silence, she carries the weight of cosmic wonder, as if every meteor that ever burned bright left a reflection in her soul.
No further comment... Cuz I was out of mood -_-
Annie’s stories unfold like a pencil drawing—soft, deliberate, and alive in their imperfections. She moves like a muse, not always aware of the inspiration she leaves behind, yet carrying it in every glance and gesture.
The small mole beneath her right eye becomes a quiet point of gravity, drawing others closer, as if it holds its own secret of attraction. Around her, the universe seems to lean in, listening, sketching along with her, making even the simplest moment feel like part of something larger and eternal.
Faker, known as "The Unkillable Demon King," is one of the most legendary players in League of Legends history. His real name is Lee Sang-hyeok, and he's revered not just for his mechanical skill, but for his deep understanding of the game, unmatched consistency, and icy composure under pressure.
The nickname "Unkillable Demon King" was earned during a match where he escaped impossible situations, turning fights in his favor and refusing to die—both literally in-game and metaphorically in his career. Despite the rise of new talent over the years, Faker remains a dominant force, often leading T1 (his team) with brilliant plays and clutch performances.
Standing by Xuân Hương Lake, with the cool Đà Lạt breeze brushing your skin and the soft scent of pine and morning dew in the air, there's a stillness that gently quiets the noise inside you. The reflection of the sky on the water, the way the light filters through the trees, and the distant echo of a street violin or the rustle of leaves create a rhythm that feels deeply human and quietly profound.
In that moment, holding a sketchbook or a brush, art no longer feels like something to be made—it feels like something to be felt. Every line drawn is a breath, every shade a memory forming. Xuân Hương Lake doesn't just offer scenery—it offers space for your soul to slow down and speak, making the act of creating art there not just beautiful, but unforgettable.
Gumayusi — a name that echoes through the League of Legends scene with the confidence of legacy and the fire of personal ambition.
As the ADC for T1, he doesn’t just carry games; he carries expectations — of a team, a dynasty, a family. Born Lee Min-hyeong, he plays with a mechanical precision that's almost surgical, yet his style isn’t just cold efficiency. It’s flair. It's risk embraced with calm. It’s the kind of gameplay that makes you hold your breath when the camera pans to bot lane.
Gumayusi is not the shadow of Faker, though they wear the same jersey. He is the gunner — the last shot that decides the war. Confident to the edge of cocky, but when it matters most, he delivers. If you’re watching T1 and Gumayusi locks in Aphelios or Jinx, you know you’re about to witness a dance of danger and discipline.
He’s not just aiming for trophies. He’s building a legacy of his own — pixel by pixel, play by play.
T1 Keria — a name that echoes both brilliance and heartbreak in the world of professional League of Legends.
As one of the most gifted support players in the game's history, Keria (Ryu Min-seok) redefined what it means to carry from the support role. His mechanical precision, champion pool depth, and vision of the game are unmatched. From explosive playmaking on Thresh, to surgical engages on Nautilus, to meta-defining performances on enchanters — he became the backbone of every team he’s touched.
But Keria's story is not just one of talent, but also of emotion. Few fans can forget the tears he shed after losing the Worlds 2022 final — a raw, painful moment that captured the weight of dreams unfulfilled. Yet, that vulnerability made him human. It made the fans love him even more.
In 2023 and beyond, Keria has become a symbol: not just of skill, but of resilience. A player who plays with his heart, who lifts his teammates, and who dares to rewrite the narrative every time he steps onto the Rift.
Keria is not just a support.
He is support — the kind you feel even outside the game.
She walks not in shadow, but light so divine,
With eyes like daggers and lips soaked in wine.
No blade on her waist, no poison, no plan—
Yet she’s the angle that slays every man.
A tilt of her chin, and empires decay,
She smiles, and brave hearts are swept clean away.
No armor can guard, no vow can withstand
The touch of her glance, the brush of her hand.
Not death, but desire she wears like a crown—
Men rise like the tide, then willingly drown.
For beauty can beckon, but she does command—
The softest of slayers with silk in her hand.
Spot metering is like having the camera’s full attention fixed on a single, important detail—like a smile. It doesn’t care about the shadows around or the distractions in the background. It isolates that one point of light, that fleeting curve of happiness, and exposes the shot for just that.
When you use spot metering to catch a smile, you're telling the camera: this is the story. Not the noise, not the scene—just that split-second of warmth, the flicker of joy that could vanish a moment later. It’s a subtle tool for moments that deserve precision, not perfection.
In a pencil drawing, Tết and áo dài come together as a quiet celebration—elegant and full of meaning. The soft strokes capture the flowing lines of the áo dài, hugging the figure with grace, its fabric seeming to move even on paper. It doesn’t shout for attention; it speaks with tradition and pride.
You might see a branch of apricot blossom or a red envelope in hand—symbols of new beginnings—set against the simplicity of graphite and shade. There’s contrast: between old and new, light and shadow, softness and strength. The drawing doesn’t just show a person in a dress. It reflects the spirit of Tết—nostalgia, family, hope—and how the áo dài carries it all with timeless beauty.
There’s a moment—silent, weightless—when time forgets to move. Eyes meet, breath slows, and for just a second, two heartbeats fall into rhythm like a quiet song only they can hear. Nothing needs to be said. The world around fades, and what’s left is a stillness so full, it feels like motion paused itself just to listen.
It’s not always grand or loud. Sometimes it happens in a glance, a smile, a shared silence. But in that frozen moment, everything aligns—and both hearts know they’re not alone.
There’s something about them—someone you’ve never spoken to, maybe never even truly seen—yet their presence lingers. A glance, a posture, the way light catches their face. It’s not who they are, but the possibility of who they could be that stays with you.
They live in the space between mystery and familiarity, and somehow your imagination fills in the rest—over and over. You find your pencil tracing their outline without meaning to, chasing a feeling you can’t explain. It's not about capturing their image exactly. It’s about capturing what they awaken in you. And the more unknown they remain, the more your hand refuses to stop.
It wasn’t perfect—lines were shaky, proportions off—but something about that first pencil drawing shifted the way you saw the world. Maybe it was the way shadow fell across a cheek, or how a single curve could suggest an emotion. In that moment, it clicked: beauty isn't just in what we see, but in how we choose to observe it.
That drawing became more than graphite on paper. It was a doorway. Suddenly, ordinary things—faces, hands, silence, light—felt full of meaning. You weren’t just drawing to make something look real. You were trying to understand it. That sketch started everything. Not with skill, but with wonder.
Nancy Jewel McDonie—known simply as Nancy—is a South Korean–American singer, actress, host, and dancer who first captured hearts as the youngest (“maknae”) member of the K-pop girl group Momoland. Born on April 13, 2000 in Daegu, she spent part of her childhood in Columbus, Ohio, giving her both Korean and American cultural roots She rose to fame after winning Mnet’s Finding Momoland in 2016, debuting officially on November 10 of that year with the mini‑album Welcome to Momoland. During her time in the group, Nancy was known for her stunning visuals, earning a spot at #10 on TC Candler’s “100 Most Beautiful Faces of 2020”