#found this old sketch because I remembered blocking out the pose and I wanted to reuse it for Argut and Moss later

[violentbirds]

Another illustration for that one discord server im on that hyperfixates about that fanfic with Vader hiring Luke to work on his ship without realizing it’s his son, but becoming obsessed with adopting him anyway.

… finders keepers rules, right?

Learned from my mistake last time, so now I include fic links when I reference them:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902145

[some-dr-writings]

Gundham’s and Kazuichi’s mangaka S/O wants to draw them

Gundham Tanaka:

·       Though you were the Super High School Level Mangaka you specialized in historical fantasy! You absolutely adored doing research and finding new mythical beasts and species to sketch and incorporate into your work. It was no surprise that Gundham became your muse the moment you two met!

·       Gundham would allow you to visit his creatures and draw them to use as bases for cryptids and monsters of all sorts in your manga. The four Dark Devas often acted as your pose models given how unusually animated they were for hamsters.

·       Having asked the Overlord of Ice to allow you near his animals so often you spent much time together and eventually started dating.

·       “My Queen, the Stringer of Fates, what curse dares to plague your soul?! You’ve not touched the pages with which you create and destroy worlds, as if it were deadly to do so! You’ve yet to search out a demon to immortalize. Not even have you greeted the four Dark Devas of Destruction as you always have.” You huffed lazily watching the rabbit Gundham was currently grooming. “Artists’ block. I can’t seem to draw or write anything. Either I just stare at a blank page for hours, or I start something which quickly dissolves into an incoherent mess!” Rubbing your temples, you grumbled at the clogged feeling fogging your mind. “I did pull a few all-nighters last week. Maybe I’m just drained. But if things keep going like this, I’ll miss my deadline! I already asked for an extension on it last week, I can’t keep doing this!”

·       Gundham watched as you picked up the sketch pad and pencil. There was this stiffness in your movements. Your hand which once flowed about gracefully like a bird in flight now paved plain straight lines. Your eyes darted about unable to focus on anything. “UGH! I can’t even draw a proper circle for the rabbit’s body!” Sinking into your seat you tossed your sketch pad and pencil aside. “Perhaps a day of respite is in order.” “No, I already took a day off yesterday. I feel I’m even worse now than I was two day ago.”

·       The Devas quickly scurried over to you, hopping into your lap, or climbing onto your shoulder to nuzzle your cheek. “… thanks.” Gently petting the two in your lap you sighed in defeat.

·       It was at that Gundham abruptly stood up. “Where is my Queen, and what have you done with her, villain?!” “… Huh?” “MY Queen would never rot away so quickly into a decrepit state such as this! She’d fight and claw till her final breath! She’d never faulter so easily!” “I Am, your Queen.” “Hmph! No, you are not. Now, tell me where she is.” You marched right up to Gundham glaring at him. “I’m right here! I am your Queen, the Stringer of Fates!”

·       It started as a chuckle which boomed into uproarious laughter! “There you are. That determination, your will to live has returned to your eyes. I am glad to have you back.” Surprisingly, you did feel like you had more energy than before. “So, shall we be off? A piece of you is still missing and we must search it out less you start to fade away once more.” “… Yeah, a date sounds nice right now.”

·       As a bright blush dusted his cheeks, the Overlord of Ice took your hand into his bandaged one, the other taking your bag of sketch supplies, he led you out of the school grounds into the great beyond!

·       The day was filled with fun and laughter as you raced from place to place, doing anything you could think of. A walk in the park, a trip to the arcade, lunch at a café, shopping at a bookstore, and anything else you could have dreamed of.

·       As the sun began to set, Gundham and you found yourselves at the clear beach, dancing around barefoot, not a care in the world. “… Gundham. Thank you, today was amazing.” His entire face instantaneously flushed hearing his true name being called. In that moment he just looked so beautiful to you. His sheepish smile, those tender eyes, just, everything about him.

·       “May I draw you?” “… Of course, my Queen.”

·       And thus you drew, having completely forgotten that morning or the past few days, you were struggling.

·       “Ah! Your depiction captured my true form! I should have known you could see through my mortal guise!” He so happily admired your drawing with sparkling eyes.

·       While he was distracted you worked on another piece, one of a dark king holding his queen close on the soft shores of the beach.

  Kazuichi Soda:

·       You never held much interest in machinery till you came to Hope’s Peak and met Kazuichi. It seemed just about every time you saw him, he was tinkering with something, from a small robot toy to a monster truck engine. Often times the parts of whatever he was working on were spread out, and then seeing how they all fit together fascinated you. Without realizing it you’d end up just watching him work for hours and sketching out the pieces and tools he was using.

·       Quickly this fascination bled into your own work, incorporating steampunk-esque elements into it. And the more elements you added, the more references you needed. At first you tried getting some on your own, but you’d just end up injuring your hands and fingers in some way or you’d break the pieces.

·       “Look, you got me into this mess and now you have to take responsibility.” “W-what!?” Before Kazuichi could panic you placed an old, rusted pocket watch before him. “How do I disassemble this!?” For a week or two after you’d bring some new item to Kazuichi to disassemble and reassemble. You eagerly sketched out the pieces you needed the references of and more.

·       Quickly you and Kazuichi became friends. You would chatter away as you did your own things. Before you knew it the two of you ended up spending time together just to be together, no drawing and no tinkering.

·       Kazuichi would go to you for advice for his unrequited crush on Princess Sonia to which you’d try your best to help, even if it did hurt a little given your crush on the mechanic. She wasn’t the only thing he spoke of though, so you had plenty of other conversations.

·       Kazuichi certainly liked chatting so when one day he was quiet you got a bit worried… Then you remembered something. “Oh Soda. You’ve never been on a school trip before, right?” “Hmm, uh, yeah. I skipped out on the only one I got a chance to go on.” “Because of financial issues, right.” “Yeah.” “Well, I happen to be going on a trip all over Europe for background references and I was thinking who better to take along than my best friend and best mechanic I know!” The news certainly perked him right up, and he excitedly chattered on about traveling! Quickly the news spread, and it ended up becoming a class trip! Honestly, though a trip alone with Soda sounded lovely, you more enjoyed seeing how ecstatic he was to be going on an actual class trip with everyone.

·       The trip was fantastic, it seemed to be nonstop fun. Often you’d forget that you were being payed to go on this trip for work and that you needed to get reference materials, thankfully Mikan took more than enough reference photos for you.

·       Though during the trip, you noticed how Kazuichi, though still friendly, was a bit more reserved than usual. When you asked him what was wrong, he said he appreciated the concern, but it was something he had to work out on his own.

·       Eventually your trip took you all to France the city of love. The place was certainly an artist’s dream, you found yourself drawing nonstop there. It was amazing!

·       At one point in your trip your class wanted to get to a restaurant at the top of a rather large hill, but the only way to get there was via a thin road by car. So, you, Kazuichi, Sonia and your driver were the last to get to the restaurant.

·       Then the car broke down. Kazuichi immediately went to check the engine while Sonia stood at the edge of the road, looking out at the sunset. It was a gorgeous sight, her profile, the sunset, the city lights, everything. You had started sketching out the scenery when a though struck you.

·       You elbowed Kazuich, gaining his attention. You then leaned in real close while still looking at Sonia, not noticing the blush spreading on his cheeks as he kept looking to you. “Hey Soda, now’s your chance. This view is absolutely romantic, and you’re in the city of love. Don’t you think this is the perfect time to ask out the girl you like?” This hurt, it really did, but seeing how happy he was to be going on a school trip without worry like he always wanted, you could hardly imagine his joy if Sonia got together with him at a time like this. It hurt, but you just wanted to see him happy.

·       “… Ask out the girl I like, huh…… Okay.”

·       Turning to you he placed his hands atop your shoulders. “Y/N I have a crush on you. Please go out on a date with me.” “… Wait? I thought… what about Nevermind?” “I, well, yeah, I do like her, but… I really like you… I… That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out lately and... so I... You get it, don’t you!?” “… Soda, please let me draw you!” “Huh?” “Well, if we start going out, we’ll be boyfriend and girlfriend, right? I’d like to have something to commemorate the moment by.” “S/O!” He pulled you into a tight hug, giddy out of his mind.

·       You ended up drawing him at the restaurant. He loved the drawing so much he took a picture to use as his phone’s lock screen. From then on you often drew him for references for poses and though all great, his favorite would forever be the first one you made of him. It was made to celebrate you getting together, it was always so special to him.

[notspazztrapavacado]

'Poor Touch-Starved Bastards'

Dr. Kondraki x Reader fluff

(Y/n)'s eyes scanned over the paperwork one more time. (He/She) was finally done with them, and could afford to file tomorrow. It was already two hours past their time to leave anyway.

The late night silence was welcoming, where the rowdier workers had gone home or finally got tired, where the hush that enveloped the facility was only broken by the sound of rhythmic, tapping keys or shoefall on the outdated, smudged tiles.

Finally standing up, (Y/n) stretched, the soreness in (his/her) stiff muscles leaving just as quickly as (he/her) had noticed the ache had been there at all. (He/She) really hadn't moved around in a few hours, and was obviously out of tune with the demands of (his/her) mortal prison. Striding across the room in purposely long strides to stretch just a bit more, (he/she) flopped over on the loveseat that was put in this office when it belonged to (his/her) predecessor, who apparently slept in here.

(He/She) chuckled into the quietness about how (he/she) once thought it was absolutely absurd to sleep in one's office when (he/she) got here, not even naps were acceptable. That mentality lasted just short of a month, before (he/she) realized that this place really couldn't afford to fire anyone and had more important things on their hands than who was sleeping in their off time. It's not like this place ever closes.

The door opened with a small creak, but (Y/n) paid it no mind. If they need (him/her), they'll get (his/her) attention. 

"Going to bed?" The stifled laugh from (his/her) crush of the last 10 months had (him/her) shooting up to greet him in a matter of seconds, wide awake.

"Ben!" (he/she) greeted eagerly, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" (he/she) noted that, as he walked past the desk, he was not here for work. He looked kind of . . . upset? Was (he/she) in trouble?

"Need your table." He sat down on the edge of the coffee table and turned, laying over it and groaning loudly. He draped his arm over his face dramatically, though it was really just to block the light.

"Someone's missing a stray princess." (He/She) had caught a glimpse of the individual instance of SCP 408 he had with him today perched on the side of (his/her) coffee creamer, probably smelling the sugar and getting some that had dribbled down the side without (his/her) noticing.

"I'm a king, not a princess." He moved his arm enough to peek at (him/her) under it.

"Kings don't talk to butterflies and stare at the stars for hours on end. Plus, you're single, can't be a king without a queen." (He/She) partly said it to remind (himself/herself) of that. He wasn't taken and that meant the crush was totally valid, not at all morally corrupt… Maybe hopeless, but not particularly wrong.

"You flirting?" He managed a lopsided grin, left eyebrow raising at his question as he finally moved his arm fully.

"You want me to be?" (He/She) retorted.

"I want you to lay on me." He mumbled it, but, upon realizing just what he had said, his face turned cherry red instantly.

"I meant f-for the weight! My back hurts. That's why I'm here." He corrected his statement and his blush faded to a pink.

"If that's what you want." (Y/n) could feel (his/her) heart trying to break (his/her) goddamn ribs as (he/she) tried to play this cool. It's for his back. It's for his back. Because you're his friend. Single or married or whatever, doesn't matter, he sees you as a friend, be a good one.

Fighting (his/her) own blush, (he/she) set a knee on the table on one side of him, and swung the other over him, effectively giving a position to lay (his/her) torso over the pained doctor's own. 

Kondraki was absolutely thankful, just downright believing in god right now, that he hadn't popped a boner on the spot from the excess of skin contact that he was in no way used to. Also counting his luck at the fact (he/she) was now unable to see his face turn red once more. He practically felt his pupils morph into tiny hearts.

"Been quiet awhile… You okay? Was that a joke?" (Y/n) went to move, but he pulled his arms up around (him/her) to keep (him/her) right where they were.

"You're helping greatly, don't move." His voice broke, betraying him. 

He could feel (his/her) heartbeat quicken as (he/she) drew a sharp breath, surprised. He followed their gaze to the source of the surprise, to find 408 now sitting on his mess of dark brown hair…

And much to his horror, the SCP was trying to play matchmaker, fluttering and putting simple little heart patterns over its wings, ones he'd recognized as his doodles on the backs of outdated documents he tended to draw on before shredding so no one found out he could. Last thing he wanted was Clef, Rights, or Bright demanding he draw them…

"408's just glad you're here, they do that." He tried to validate the behavior as normal of the SCP, and had (him/her) nearly fooled as the insect stopped…

Before an old sketch of (him/her) appeared on the surface of their wings, fanning out to get the whole thing.

"Who drew this?? It's beautiful." (He/She) marveled at it, lifting a finger to let the butterfly step on so (he/she) could move it to see the intricate details better.

"I don't remember posing for a picture?" (Y/n) was not tolerating his silence now.

"You didn't. I… I used one of the ones I'd taken of you as a reference…" He guiltily admitted to the picture. "It was the reference I had on hand, okay?" He defended it, trying not to sound creepy and really hoping (he/she) didn't ask again.

"Oh? What's this? more?" (Y/n) was now more than smug as their free hand went to the table, propping (him/her) up so they could both easily see the dozens of art pieces across the surface of the insect.

"I swear, I'll put you back right now!" He threatened it, face practically on fire at this point, as it just continued to do it's thing.

"You got a crush, Benny?" (he/she) purred close to his ear. He tensed up. 

(Y/n) could hardly believe it, eyes widening. That was a joke, but he'd obviously taken it seriously. Was it true?

408 fluttered back off to the coffee creamer, letting (Y/n) move (his/her) hand to his chest.

'Well. We broke poor Konny. But I'm not one to pass up opportunity.' (He/She) gathered some courage, eyes closing so (he/she) couldn't see the horrible mistake (he/she) was making, grabbing a fistful of the front of his shirt to steady (himself/herself) further and went for it. Lips pressing to his carefully, sealing a kiss that was every bit as sweet and passionate as (he/she) wanted it to be. His eyes, upon realizing what was happening, closed fast as he reached up with his left hand to tangle it in (his/her), (h/c) locks of hair, deepening the kiss.

They pulled away with hesitance, and (Y/n) laid back down on him.

"Alright… 408 can stay out more…" Ben chuckled, a smile as he was just happy with whatever that was. He was in desperate need of affection.

"My back really didn't hurt all that bad, I just want to keep you here." He admitted.

"Thanks for clarifying." (he/she) breathlessly muttered, embarrassed.

"You do know you're stuck with me now, right?" he held (him/her) a little tighter.

"I'd hoped." (he/she) broke into a smile of (his/her) own, relieved that the answer was clear and verbal now to the burning insecurity that had plagued (him/her).

"Let's move this to the cot in my office before I actually do have worsening back problems." They both laughed lightheartedly at the statement before getting up. They'd be sleeping very well tonight, poor, touch starved, bastards.

[kiss-me-kira]

2 Encounter w/ Kira

just second meeting nothing really exciting

cut for length 

The beach was lovely today. The Morioh sun was warm and the breeze was brisk. Maybe a little too swift because it kept blowing my hair in my face, but all in all it was very enjoyable. I had found a nice little cove downhill from some wild looking orchard. It was quiet and peaceful, so I brought out my sketchbook and some books to read. 

My sketchbook wasn’t working well with me, the pages were too big and kept swallowing up my doodles. So I switched to my pocket sketchbook and was working on a rough sketch of the sea and horizon line when my hands refused to do what I told them. So I took a pause and decided to rest my eyes. I laid back in the sand and pulled my arm across my eyes to block out the sun for just a few minutes. 

“This is private property you know.” I shot up, there was someone immediately behind me. I jumped when there wasn’t anyone there, but I heard rustling in  the trees so I looked a bit up and there he was. 

“I-Im so sorry is this your house?” He looked so familiar but I couldn't quite remember who he was. Surely I wouldn't forget such a handsome face. 

He exhaled sharply, as if that was his version of a laugh, and hopped down from the orchard’s embankment down onto the beach just a few steps away from me. Something told me he was so familiar, but it was on the tip of my tongue, as if he had just walked out from a dream. 

“No, it's not mine. But you shouldn’t be here.” His face showed no effect, but his voice seemed jovial? Was he teasing me? Was this some sort of inside joke I should remember? 

“Im sorry, I'll leave right now.” I gathered my things, not like I had many of them, but when I saw the book I remembered. He was like a dream, or at least I had thought he was at the time, but he was Dr. Holly Joestar-Kira’s son. 

“You’re Kira.” that came out sounding more like an accusation than I intended but it served its purpose. 

“Kira Yoshikage. And you are?” He extended his hand, his long delicate fingers hanging there waiting for mine. Oh god I hope he didn't see me staring, I scurried to move my things to my left arm and meet his hand in a shake. 

“Constantin. Nice to actually meet you.” Because coming into my room when I was fairly certain you were a fever dream really doesn't count.

 His skin was so soft, but his handshake was firm. I couldn't help but think of all the things he could do with those hands. Maybe he was a violinist, or a pianist, or perhaps a painter or sketcher. Ugh I bet those hands would feel even better under my dress or around my neck… Oh god that is not a good road to go down when he's right in front of you Constantin. 

In an ill attempt to quash those thoughts I nodded to him and turned to go back the way I came this was about as good a time as any to duck out. Which i probably should have done as soon as he mentioned that I was trespassing on private property. 

I turned and started walking down the beach towards the way I came. 

“Wrong way.” I turned around to see him standing there in an odd little pose with his hips cocked to the side and his arms crossed. 

“It's the way I came.” No response. 

“Well then show me the proper way.” If he was going to be short and curt I could easily do the same. He spun on his heel and started walking away. I guess I'm supposed to follow him? Of course the beautiful man who fell from the sky would not be talkative. There was no way I could completely hold a conversation on my own, at best I can reflect the energy that the other person puts in and he was not doing much of anything. 

“Like the Roman Emperor?” He asked, quirking up his eyebrow. Well that was surprising. 

“Yes yes, the one who moved the capital to Byzantium and converted to Chirstianity. My family is Italian and big on history.” It was usual to have this conversation with new people. It's not exactly a common name so I figure i have to justify it a bit. 

“It's an interesting name.” Was apparently all he could think of as a response. 

“Hm so I’ve heard.” Many times. God im so fucking awkward what the hell am I supposed to talk about when Im being escorted off of someone elese’s property? 

Kira led me down the beach for a few more meters then gestured up a small slope. I scrambled to the top, with him a few steps behind me, and tried to regain my bearings. Sure this was only a few hundred meters down the shore from where I was but nothing looked familiar. I didn’t even see a road nearby, just a tree leaning dangerously over the wall eyes. I shuddered remembering fainting there a few days ago. Drat, I would have to ask him for directions. I steeled myself up, ready to be met with a cold and partial response but he spoke first. 

“What do you know of Morioh?” What an odd way of phrasing a question. Was he trying to offer me directions? 

“I’ve been here about a week, so all I know is my hotel in the city center, the beach where I just was, the Wall Eyes and the hospital.” Hopefully 

“Which way is the hospital.” The way he phrased it was more like command than a question. And why the fuck was he asking me he lived here. Ugh he's testing me, that condescending little jerk. I flexed my hands so I did not clench them in fists, it was a good thing I had a pretty decent internal GPS. Yeah there was that one time I convinced my family I knew my way around Rome because I studied Latin for 6 years, but as it turned out a lot had changed from the 2000 year old maps I knew. 

“That way,” I pointed confidently over his shoulder and to the left. I was pretty sure that was where I would have ended up if I had left the beach the other way. 

“No.” He said flippantly, as if he’s disappointed I didn’t know better. I stood there like an enraged dead fish, glaring with my mouth hanging open. He was being cold and dismissive yet I still wanted to show off. I cracked the knuckles in my right hand and took a deep breath in I can be a nice person. 

“Would you mind showing me the way?” I asked in my best imitation of a regularly pleasant person. 

Kira blinked in a way that looked affirmative, or I was imagining things, so I followed as he turned around to walk around the wall eyes.

Once I stopped being as embarrassed and afronted, it was a nice walk. We were still close enough to the beach to feel the breeze on my face, and every so often I caught a glimpse of Kira batting his hair out from his eyes. Which as much as I hated to say it, was pretty cute. I couldn't help but want to reach out and brush it out of his face for him. But that would be quite rude and creepy, so I restrained myself. Of course I stole some other glances at him. He walked very purposefully, each step was assured, and he kept a nice rhythmic pace too. 

I cleared my throat, it had been silent for a long time, and now that i was actually calm I didn't want to come off as rude. He had been kind in his own weird little way. 

“Do you live around here?” Hopefully that was friendly and not ‘I'm going to stalk you’... 

“I live by the harbor.” He had slowed a little to match my pace. That was considerate, I think. 

“Ah yes I know where that is.” Shit that was too sarcastic. 

“You do?” He quirked an eyebrow up. 

“No of course not, I already told you all the places I know.” I forced a smile, and an awkward laugh. Please think this was a joke. 

A noise, he madea  weird noise, like a sharp exhale without moving his face.

“Guess you did.” That was a laugh? Maybe? 

“But that does explain-” I gestured loosely to his outfit, “this.” 

“How so?” His voice was lighter, and I could almost hear a smirk in it. But his face still showed no effect. He must be warming up to me.

“You work there, no? On a ship?” 

“Yes,” he looked impressed and I hated how that made me excited, “I do. How did you know?” He couldn't seriously be asking me that right? He was dressed like a 1940’s sailor. He had to know that. 

“Well you either work on a ship or you just learned the yablochko…” I nervously laughed again. Everything is fine. 

“I'm a surgeon.” He said in the lightest tone I’d heard him use yet. But wait, that didn't quite make sense...

“Oh-” 

“On cargo ships.” He clarified.

“Ah…” so he wasn't mocking me, “Oh that's very interesting actually.”  It was so interesting that apparently I hadn’t realized we had made it back into the city. Or the outskirts of it at least. It wasn’t like we had been talking for long, or about much, there was just something about him that stole all my attention. 

But now that I recognized where we were a little, I let my eyes stray. I think he said something, but everything was drowned out by a literal monster in the street in front of us. 

I grabbed Kira by the arm, not so gently jerking him back to keep from walking closer to that thing. It was pink and tall, with odd pointed ears and what looked like armored plating. No one else was paying it any mind on the sidewalk, but I felt my nails digging into his arm and didn't think I remembered how to breathe. 

He was very calm when it turned around to look at us. Kira glanced a few times between me and whatever the hell that was before speaking. 

“Ah, so you can see it now.”

[wereallsaloonaticshere]

Fight blackmail with blackmail

Summery: Eduardo blackmails Edward and Thompson to steal money for them, but Juan feels bad about it so he gives Edward and Thompson blackmail to use against Eduardo. 

Tw internalized homophobia, blackmail

Fandom: Eddsworld, Saloonatics

Word count: 3144

This was a collaboration I did with @aubdawgdrawz, they made a drawing for the story and I wrote it basically.

It’s quite a lovely night. Twinkling silver lights glow above them, highlighted by the pitch black a lack of sun causes. These nights are a constant for everyone in the town of Spit bucket, including a certain detective and sheriff.

“I quite liked that one.” Edward says, walking side by side with Thompson, “I felt it had a nice flow from scene to scene, and the character’s romance wasn’t forced at all.”

“I liked the horse.” The two men paused and looked at each other. Then chuckled and continued walking up the steps to their house. 

“I liked him too.” Edward takes out the keys and fumbles, looking for the right one, “I was surprised he turned out to be the killer in the end. Even I didn’t find any signs for that.” 

“I think they just wanted ta shock the audience. The people who made it aren’t ‘xactly what I’d call geniuses.” 

“Oh, and I am?”

“Nope.” Thompson says, then directly after Edward breaks out in giggles. 

“Oh, how sweet. My eternal love.” Edward places his hand on Thompson’s shoulder and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Make it a real one.” Thompson teases, and pulls Edward down by the collar, kissing him on the lips. 

“Oi, Thompson!” Edward says, after they’ve pulled apart, “Someone might see us!” He smiles as he opens the door, and the two walk into their home. 

It would’ve been a perfect night, had Juan not overheard it from the other side of the house. Had Juan not taken pictures of their kiss with his new camera.

A fist slams onto the counter, and Eduardo smirks as Thompson turns to face him in his chair. Thompson tackles him, pinning him to the floor. 

“Lotta nerve ya got, ta come back here.” Thompson stretches his arm toward his desk, trying to reach the handcuffs. “Why are ya smilin’, anywho? What’re ya planning?”

“I know about you.” Eduardo said

“What’re you-”

“I know about you and Edward.” Eduardo says, and with that, Thompson freezes. “Disgusting.” He adds for unneeded clarity. 

Gritting his teeth, Thompson lets go, and they both stand up. He leans against his desk, trying to stay cool. 

“What do ya mean?” 

“My partner in crime took photos of it.” Eduardo takes a few out of his pocket and shows them to him. Thompson bolts to grab it but Eduardo holds it high above his head, and grabs Thompson’s arm. 

“Give ‘em ta me. I’ll do...I’ll do anything.” Thompson says, with his eye wide open. Eduardo’s lips curls. He crosses his arms.

“Anything? Is that so?” 

~

“Man, I sure do love being a bandit!” Eduardo says, lying on top of a literal pile of gold coins and paper money. 

“Yo también.” Marco says, cleaning a mirror with his shirt, angling the reflective part away from him to avoid seeing his reflection. 

“What?” Eduardo asks. As Eduardo complains about Marco only knowing Spanish, Juan tinkers with his camera on the other side of the room.

Recently, when a professional cameraman moved to town, wanting, “...a breath a fresh, countryside air...”, he left his door unlocked. The three bandits saw their chance and ransacked the place, taking everything they could see. The cameraman was devastated, obviously, but for Juan it was one of the best things to ever happen to him. He got his very own camera! And a good one at that; the latest model. 

“Pose!” Juan says, taking the camera in both hands and pointing it at his partners. 

“Juan, you don’t need to take pictures of everything!” Eduardo says, sitting up and crossing his arms.

“Lucky I do though! ‘Else we wouldn’t have all this stuff!” Juan takes the photo. Eduardo runs a hand through his hair, and turns to Marco, continuing his mildly racist one-sided conversation. “I’ma head out and take more-”

“Bye.” Eduardo says, still looking at Marco.

Juan rolls his eyes and walks out. He wanders here and there, without a real destination in mind. 

A blue butterfly in the corner, just about to land on a leaf. A cactus with pink flowers dotted across it. A house with two men talking through the window, which probably wouldn’t turn out too good, considering the time of night. Time had flown by, apparently. You wouldn’t really be able to see anything other than a clouded swirl against a black backdrop. 

Wait. The two men were the British man and the Sheriff! And they were talking...Juan could just about make out what they were saying.

“I just feel so guilty.” Edward says, running a hand through his hair, voice tainted by exhaustion. 

“Don’t be. They’re savages, the lot of ‘em.” Juan frowns as Thompson says it. 

“Maybe we should just...let them tell the public.” A pause as Thompson stares with wide, judgmental eyes. “I just think-”

“What? You think ruinin’ our lives is the right answer? How?”

“How could it not be? I know it’ll be rough-”

“Rough? We’ll get killed! You already know how harshly people treat people like us! Or were the bandits ruining our lives not enough evidence for you?” 

“Well, my apologies if I don’t like stealing from the bank!” 

“And I do?!” 

As they continued arguing, Juan started to break into a cold sweat. 

Cops don’t like stealing. This is information he already knew, of course, but...they were doing it anyways. To keep each other safe, even though they hated it. 

Juan had told Eduardo and given him the picture because he knew that would get the gang more money. But seeing how it affected them, how it broke apart something special and private...Juan didn’t need all that gold, and neither did the others. 

But Juan isn’t as stupid as he looked. He knows just asking them wouldn’t work at all. His mind wandered a tad, as it tended to do, and he thought of the phrase ‘fight fire with fire’. The thing to fight blackmail with was more blackmail, clearly. But what would convince Eduardo to give the pictures back?

Juan’s blood ran slightly cooler. The sketches. Juan, of course, still had them all. He knew what the right thing to do was. He ran back to base.

Back at base, Eduardo and Marco were already asleep. Juan doesn’t bother walking on his tip-toes, since both men are heavy sleepers. He uncovers two floorboards in the corner where he slept, and gingerly pulls out the box, opening it. 

Eduardo used to be an artist, until he stopped, along with other things, drawing. He’d draw whatever he wanted to remember. And boy, did Eduardo want to remember Juan exactly. The slope of his jawline, his crooked smile, his soft yet calloused skin. 

So he drew him, filled entire sketchbooks with Juan and him. Holding hands, kissing, other things. Anything he could think of. At first they were drawn few and far between, but when Juan thumbed through one of the books and said he loved them, it seemed like Eduardo had a dip pen attached to his hand.

But it didn’t last. Eduardo’s dad found the books, and he wasn’t exactly okay with what was in them. The two were just younger than 18 when that happened. A few years later, after Juan decided to become a bandit, they met again. Juan went to hug him but got shoved away. Eduardo acted like he had never met him before. It hit Juan in a soft spot, but he went along with it, knowing whatever Eduardo’s dad did to him wasn’t the greatest. But Eduardo was a different person, harsher, meaner. There were still times when his old self would come out, but it would so quickly be stifled Juan would wonder if he imagined it.

Juan looks in the box and pulls out a thin pad of paper, about 20 or so pieces. Juan, throughout the years, had probably seen these a million times, but that didn’t stop him from looking again, blushing at his past, at the feelings he used to know. At the boy he once loved, and the man he wasn’t sure he knew. Each drawing, each stroke of the pen, was carefully done, the signature in the corner of every one.

He put the pad in his coat pocket, closed the box and put it back in the floor, as if nothing has been or ever was there. He looked across the room at Eduardo. He hadn’t been the nicest, or least hypocritical person lately. He deserved this. 

On his walk back to the sheriff’s house, he thought about their time together, all those years ago. The jokes, the spats, the love. Juan had loved Eduardo, and these drawings had love written all over them. 

He wondered if Eduardo even remembers making them, or if he forced himself to forget.

~

There’s a knocking on the door, and Edward gets up first to answer it.

“Hel-” Juan shoves past him and walks over to their dinner table, placing the sketchpad on it, face down. 

“I’m really sorry, I am. So, so here,” Juan points at the pad, his other hand clenched in his pocket, and walks back towards the still opened door, “tell Eduardo that if he puts the film out you’ll put the drawings out. I really didn’t, I really didn’t mean to, to hurt you guys.” Why were tears flooding his eyes? 

Thompson, a little taller than him, blocks the exit.

“What’re you sorry for, boy?” Thompson says, balling his hands into fists.

“I...I told Eduardo about you guys.” Juan added quickly, “But I’m making it right! I gave you fire to use against his fire!”

“He’s going to burn our house down?” Edward asks, with more disbelief than fear.

“No, no, I-I just meant...” 

“You’re helping us get back at him?” Thompson says and squints.

“Yeah, ‘xactly!”

“Pardon, but I find it hard to believe you’d help us when you’re the one who got us here in the first place.” Edward glared. 

“Yeah, and how’d we even use these? It has his signature, but he could just say he didn’t draw them and that it’s another Eduardo. He ain’t famous or nothin’, no one’s gonna recognize it.” Thompson says, walking over to the table and inspecting them. He raises his eyebrows. “Though, if he did make ‘em...”

“Then...I could vouch for you, ‘cause I saw him draw them. Eye witness, right?” Juan tries to bargain.

“...The man in these drawin’s is you, bandit.” Thompson says, slowly. “Ya know that’d-”

“Put me in danger. I’m okay with it.” Juan stands straighter. “I just feel...guilty. I shouldn’t’ve let this go so far.”

“You shouldn’t have done it in the first place.” Edward says, and crosses his arms.

“Yeah, I know, but...I dunno. I guess I just did it because it’s us against the world, and I wanted to win.”

“That’s incredibly childish.” Edward rolled his eyes.

“So ya try an’ ruin our lives? We could lose our jobs, or get murdered over this!” 

“I’m sorry.” Juan says, and inches toward the door. “But just...when ya show Eduardo that, don’t tell him I gave it ta you guys.” 

“Hey! We ain’t done yet here-!” Thompson started, but Juan had already started running out the door. 

Edward began looking over the drawings . 

“These are actually...we could use these.” Edward says.

“I think it’d be kinda-”

“We would never actually publish them, of course.” Edward says, closing the door. “But we could simply bluff. I mean, they held it over our heads, why not return the favor?” 

“I like the way you think, Ed.” 

“Thank you dear.” He kisses him on the forehead. “Do you want to go fuck up that bastard’s life now, or shall we wait ‘till sunrise?” Thompson, slightly taken aback by Edward’s swearing, smiles.

“Hmm...I reckon we should wait until the next time we meet up for demands. Then spring it on him.” Thompson grins. 

“Swell idea, love.”

~

A knock on the door.

“Oh?” Edward asks, “Who is it?”

“It’s me.” Eduardo says from behind the door.

“Oh, right!” Edward opens the door, “Come in! Come in!” 

“...Why are you being so pleasant?” Eduardo glares, crossing his arms, “Ya know what? I don’t even care. So, what I want you two-”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” Edward slams the door shut. 

“Oh?” Eduardo laughs, “Then, I guess I’ll just have to-” Edward whips out a certain drawing pad. 

“What?” Eduardo’s eyes suddenly widen, and he takes a step back. Just as he’s about to pounce, Thompson jumps on him, pinning him to the floor again. “What’s-”

“Hand over the pictures, or we release these,” He waves the book just above Eduardo’s head, “to the press,” Edward states, standing over him.

“What do I care what the public thinks of me?! They already hate me!” Eduardo thrashed against the man, but Thompson had a strong grip.

“Maybe they do, but will fellow criminals? What’ll they think of ya then?” Thompson spits, “No more help from fellow gangs.”

“...How did you even-”

“Juan.” Edward and Thompson say at the same time. He might’ve helped them in the end, but he did start this whole thing, after all. Some anger was still harbored for the short man.

“Ugh!” Eduardo yelled. “...Fine. I’ll give you the pictures by sundown. But destroy those in front of me first.”

“That’s not how things work around here.” Edward crouches down, “You give us the pictures first. We wouldn’t lie to you - we’re cops after all. You’re more likely to con us then vice-versa.” 

“...Fine. I’ll do it.” Eduardo says, “Just don’t tell anyone. I’m not like that anymore.”

“...Go.” Thompson lets go of Eduardo and he walks out of the house, frazzled and angry. Betrayed.

~

“Hey, Juan?” Eduardo says through gritted teeth. Marco knew this tone; he walks out of the base and goes for a quick - or long - stroll. 

“Uh, yeah?” Juan focuses his eyes intently on his book, not looking up from it. He swallows.

“May I have a word?” Fists shaking with white knuckles, Eduardo glares with all that’s left in him at the man across the room, staring at his book in the corner. 

“Sh-sure. Just, um...just…” Juan’s hands start shaking. His eyes scan for Marco. He isn’t here. No one to help him if things get out of hand.

“JUST WHAT?!” Eduardo stomps his foot on the ground and storms over to Juan. Juan stands up, but it’s too late to move. On second thought, perhaps the corner of the room wasn’t the smartest place to hide. Eduardo lifts him by the collar and slams him against the corner. Juan’s trapped. He cowers, pressing himself further into the wall. “YOU...” 

Tears prick Eduardo’s eyes. Oh, how he hates it. He squeezes his eyes shut, his teeth grind together. 

“You ruined everything.” Eduardo seethes, “You’ve always ruined everything. You ruined. My. LIFE!”

“Hey! I didn’t - I didn’t ruin your life!” Juan defends himself, “Your dad did!” 

At that, Eduardo’s blood turns to freezing cold slush. He drops Juan and takes a step back.

“You...” Eduardo begins visibly shaking now, and crosses his arms as a short-hand to hugging himself. He shakes his head, “I-”

“We could’a ran away together, just you ‘n me! I swear, ‘Duardo, you were the best thing that’d ever happen ta’ me.” Juan gripped his arms, “But then you had to leave, and when we met again, it was like you were a different person!” He took a step forward and gestured that he wanted to hold Eduardo’s hands. Eduardo puts his hands in his pockets, then crosses his arms again, taking a step back. “You were - we were so happy back then. I guess I kept them because I wanted to remember that for a while.”

“Maybe you were happy,” Eduardo paused for a second, “but I wasn’t! Maybe I never wanted you, maybe you just heard what you wanted to hear!”

Juan narrowed his eyes at him. “I know what I heard. I know all those times we’d talk for hours about our future, about anything, about each other.” He clenched his fists, “You didn’t say platonic things to me, bunny.” 

“...Whatever I did when I was a punk-ass kid means nothing,” He tried to keep his voice from shaking, “you betrayed me, and went behind my back to the cops! What we said to each other years ago is worthless, so get out of my face about it.” 

“No, I won’t, because I refuse to believe those dozens of books filled with drawin’s don’t mean nothing to you, because throughout the years, they’ve always meant somethin’ to me, whenever I’ve looked at ‘em.”

“...what?” Eduardo asks. 

“Uh...the drawin’s?” Juan squints. “I still look at ‘em all the time.”

Eduardo sucked in a breath at the realization. He couldn’t believe he had kept them. All of them. And still cared to look.

“Did ya really think I’d just throw ‘em out?” Juan says to fill to gap in conversation. “They really are pretty-”

“Just, shut up.” Eduardo runs a hand through his hair. He’s blushing, slightly. Then, in a much softer voice that resembled defeat more than gentleness, “...Please.”

Juan opens his mouth to say something, but cuts himself off. He almost offered a hug, but stopped himself there, to. He hears Eduardo mumble something about his habit of drawing biting him in the ass twice, and he pauses, and decides to sail into uncharted territory.

“What your dad did ta you must’a been awful. I…” Juan can’t quite find the right words, “I don’t know how to make it better, but...can I try?” He stepped forward and again held out his hands for Eduardo to take. Eduardo just stared at them with a fixed gaze. “You-you don’t have to if you, if you don’t-”

Eduardo pulls Juan into a hug, and before either of them really have time to process it, Eduardo pulls out. 

“...Sorry for, uh, hurting your head.” Eduardo looks at his feet. He adds softly, “I’ll...try to not get so angry in the future.” 

“It’s fine -”

“No, it’s not.” Eduardo massages the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry.”

“...I accept. I just want you ta be happy.” Juan says, and smiles, “Like when we were kids.”

“I don’t think I can ever be that person again.” Tears fall from his eyes just as fast as he can wipe them up, “I just can’t. Not after everything.” 

“Well…” Juan says, “then I’ll settle for happier.”

[sorayahigashikata]

Chapter 62: "No Means No 2: Patriotic Boogaloo"

[yingqilin]

Where Do I Even Begin?

Well, first of all, I’ve LOVED LOVED LOVED Qilin ALMOST as much as I loved Unicorns, and Dragon. I say ALMOST because I first saw a unicorn on TV when I was 4 years old in the EARLY 1980s! But, I’d never even heard of a so-called “Chinese Unicorn” since about the mid-late 1980s when I saw a children’s magazine called “Cricket” which had a WHOLE SPREAD about UNICORNS, including the Chinese & Japanese versions.

(I don’t believe this was the actual cover. I can’t remember what year the Cricket Magazine issue was, just that it was in the 1980s. This issue was cited in many books written about Unicorns as well, following its syndication. It had a full on spread including many kinds of unicorns from many cultures... if I recall correctly, there might even have been an French Unicorn story as well.)

When I was a little kid, I actually didn’t like to read (which was an issue by the late 1900s, and even the government would talk about it, the trouble was they’d demonized comic books in the 1960s-1970s, which resulted in that problem, because even tho’ “correlation doesn’t equal causation” they didn’t know that and thought that the act of reading comics made you into a criminal. My experience was the exact opposite, because I read super hero comics a lot and was more interested in THAT than things like doing hard drugs, vandalism, and shoplifting which was rampant in NJ where I grew up.) So, by the late 1980s-early 1990s children were encouraged to read, read, read. Well, I liked pictures, and I LOVED: unicorns, dragons, and dinosaurs, ANYTHING FANTASY, but also Sci-Fi. (I also loved Marvel Comics/X-MEN, and Disney Adventures Magazine, and nearly all the Jeffrey Katzenberg hit Disney Films)

So, whenever it was something of interest to me, I would read a lot, and I had stacks of books, which I also used to practice learning art, and I was self taught. (I have A.D.D.)

I graduated in May 2001 from the Art Institute of Philadelphia (Majored in Computer Animation AKA CAM). And, by the GW Bush Era, I had already been active online since 1994, and had been blogging, and using many various art websites.

By late 2001, and most of the early 2000s (2001-2007) I spent months and even years sketching and drawing Qilin, interacting in the Furry/Anthro Fandom, and published a lot of my works to GeoCites/Yahoo, and had even created my own message boards, and so on. I even had one called “Qilin Savanna” Altho’ much of these sites are gone, my original works still remain on DeviantArt in my gallery HERE. (I also LIVED IN CHINA many times in the GWB Era often.)

Since that time I’d also written a lot of things, multiple times over, about my research into Qilin (which are not all unicorns, just some).

If you were to type in “qilin cartoon” into Google you can actually see the many many photo images that come up since the time I’d first started publishing my work ONLINE, FOR FREE, you can actually see how my works have influenced people. Back then, there was a MAJOR mix-up with the term, because MOST information available in ENGLISH regarding CHINESE EVERYTHING was often inaccurate, used the dead Wade-Giles Chinese language, or were often confused with JAPANESE. Another issue was that I actually could speak standard Mandarin Chinese, but many people wrote the Cantonese names, or FREQUENTLY confused them with Japanese name for the exact same character (AKA kanji, AKA Hanzi), which is “kirin” in Japanese. Also, the majority of NON-Chinese speaking persons don’t know how to pronounce Mandarin pinyin. (Example: Can you pronounce?: chi, qi, shi, xi, zhi, zi, qu, chu, er, ri, ren, si, ran, yu, you, bo, po, zhou, zhu, cao, zui - Most Non-Chinese speakers CANNOT pronounce these correctly at all. “Chi” sounds like “Tcher” and “Qi” sounds like “Tchee”, “Shi” sounds like “scher” and “xi” sounds like “schee”. There are also variations on pronunciation.)

But, I still stuck to the facts. my father-in-law in China,The late Wang Zimin, actually had special access to a restricted library, and wrote letters to me about Qilin, and the 4 major Chinese magical deities: Qilin, Long/Dragon, Fenghuang/Phoenix, Bixi/Dragon-Heard Tortoise.

Back then, mostly you needed to search “kirin” especially because M. Peña called her artwork “Kirin” but still also called them “Chinese Unicorns”. Her gorgeous sculpture works were sold everywhere for years, nation wide, from the boardwalk to Spencer Gifts, to Flea Markets, and Christmas season mall kiosks.

But, as you scroll through all the works produced since that time, not only the ones titled or tagged as "kirin” but over time “Qilin” starts to replace this as more and more people growing up actually start to study Chinese, especially artists and customers, and many of these young artists are either my fans or students, but fans or students of my students... after a while, people forgot who I was... but my work BECAME PART OF THE CULTURE.

You can SEE that many people emulated my poses, my styles of doing hair, and many other details. Over the years, a number of my fans, and friends would send me private messages FREAKING OUT that either someone stole my work, stile my style, or ripped me off...

That’s actually NOT TRUE. No one ripped me off. THOSE ARE MY STUDENTS.

You guys ASKED ME things like: How do you draw _____? so I made countless cheat-sheet style tutorials (because paid classes don’t ACTUALLY TEACH). Also, if someone wants to learn, (like myself) they try to draw from WHAT THEY LOVE. That means ME. MY ARTWORK. How else will they learn if they don’t copy, ask questions, etc.?

I have many many open source materials in my DeviantART gallery (which are STILL MY MOST POPULAR WORKS OF ALL TIME despite the hours of work I’ve produced artistically.) I have also licensed much of my line art works FOR FREE for people to practice coloring with wither digitally, or to print them out and color with real media like markers, color pencils, pastels, or whatever because people kept asking me.

Actually, I would like to credit a number of artists whom are my biggest influences as well:

Susan Dawe

Glen Keane

Alan Davis

Those are my biggest ones, but I also loved artworks by Burne Hogarth,  Auguste Rodin,  Edward Degas (I especially love his ROUGH sketch work), Frank Frazzetta, Boris Vallejo & Julie Belle, Fred Moore, Vladimir “Bill” Tytla,   AND the film The Last Unicorn was especially the #1 thing that got me actually DRAWING when I was 4 years old.

SO much of my work, especially ANYTHING with unicorns, has been tattooed onto people bodies. Many people personally asked my permission, but I honestly DO NOT MIND. I have found over the years more examples of my artwork tattooed onto people than I can count. It’s LOVE.

However, I’ve also many many times been the victim of theft FOR REAL. Many people have tried to rob my sketchbooks, and many companies have illegally robbed my artwork online. It was the cause of MUCH online fights, wars, and battles. There’s also impersonators: People pretending to be ME, or claiming THEY did my work: also the cause of much much online fights and flame wars.

-Then, of course, there’s LOTS & LOTS of kids online that “rob” my work for RPGs, and fan pages... Honestly, I’m NOT going after children, or fans, for harmless things like that... I’m NOT Metallica.

So, where am I going with THIS?

Well, for one, there’s both ART and PHILOSOPHY which are BOTH a MAJOR part of my life.

I had a number of setbacks, delays, and many other strings of very unfortunate events in my life. Needless to say, I was very depressed. However, I did find myself back in college, first for Philosophy, and then for Art, especially Video... which somehow saw me thrust forward into Animation HEAD-FIRST. Suffice it to say, I’ve worked through, blew threw, and past, all of my blocks, and have been doing animation again. (lots more long stories, but not writing them here)

Many many times, you can’t always reach, yet, what you want. Other times, other persons, or groups want to change you, or make you something else.... and not you. But, it kills you inside...

At some point, you need STOP listening to everyone, and everything else, ESPECIALLY if that’s not FLOWING in the direction are are INSIDE.

I’d already WANTED to produce at least 2 series/films of my own. (”Eyewitness” and “Zenith Beyond The Dragon’s Rue”) Well, THIS is a branch off that tree. This stems from my concepts for “Eyewitness” but sort-of... I had ALWAYS wanted to produce my own small animated shorts, especially with music, like the old 20th Century animated works such as “Silly Symphonies”, “Merry Melodies”, and even Disney's “Fantasia”, but also a number of influences from Far East Asia including PR China, and Japan.

I’ve been multiple times inspired by Socrates, Plato, Laozi, Bruce Lee (Li Xiaolong), and many fusion artists/dancers on the American West Coat including my teachers: Zoe Jakes, and Alyssum Pole, as well as Rachel Brice, Carolena Nericcio, Jamlila & Suhaila Salimpour, but also Matahari, and Kerli Kõiv. People that think differently, question things, or create their own ideas, or even fusion artists.

Well, this project has been on my mind since at least 2001.

In fact, my actual name (Ming Zi) in Chinese is: 任思麒 (Ren SiQi)

It literally means: Duty/Task [to] Think/Contemplate/Dream of Qi[lin]!

Also, as an artist, there are a number of things I believe in, whereas other things I’ve shed like a snake molting its skin. I’m a fusion artist, an eclectic artist, but I still firmly believe in art fundamentals like life drawing, practicing one’s skills, and I use bot digital and real media. I LOVE TO DRAW. I firmly believe in Quality OVER Quantity, yet, in some instances I also think too much detail is overdo, and somethings look better less refined. I like realism, stylization, cartoons, and beautiful things.

I want to create content that is LESS about “being a big success” or ego driven ideas of “stardom”, and lavish money making, but more about THE LOVE OF IT.

I do NOT want to be part of any establishment groups, crowds, clubs, or institutions, and DON’T want to be mainstream, NOR corporate. I have found all of those things to be negative and destructive to my life and therefore regret pursuing those avenues. I’m NOT interested in walking those paths, nor dunking helplessly into those turbulent or stagnant flows, but RATHER Flow my own way, because I have my OWN PATHS. I don’t need to buy their metaphorical light bulbs, because I have my own light that I can shine inside of me.

And, if I am being completely frank & honest, another MAJOR influence on me WAY BEFORE HE WAS EVEN POPULAR was Bernie Sanders. I am a Berner. Sanders actually GAVE OF HIS HEART & HIS TIME FOR FREE. He crowd funded for what he believed in with SMALL MONEY because he was against BIG MONEY.

I have no care for being in exclusive film festivals or galleries. People whom already LOVE my work find their way to it. People HAVE found value in my efforts and work.

Therefore, I wish to begin producing this animated short. It is not cheap tho’. But, I will gladly share my process, my concept work, my practice work, and everything FOR FREE. Free to ALL ARTISTS, and people whom just live beautiful things, art, and QILIN.

I wish to pursue an independent direction in my art. But, I would very much like to include people, if not the world or those in it that care about these things, to interact with me. A long time ago I’d created my “Qilin Savanna” site to interact with people whom also loved Qilin, Unicorns, Dragons, and other things, but also a love for art, or learning art.

This year (2017) while interacting with MANY MANY young people, and young artists, I often found that people WANTED to learn to DRAW, to improve their techniques and practice them, but despite having paid money to attend art classed (including “drawing classes”) they did not actually get what they paid for, did not actually get instruction for what they wanted to learn, but either had to fend for themselves, try independently, or got resources online for free... so, why then were they paying for it?

I have many many times, spent just a short moment with frustrated peers, students, classmates, friends, and fellow artists whom couldn’t draw what they wanted to, and teased me for being some kind of special person... when in fact, whatever I do, others can too. I sat with them, explained, and demonstrated (AKA Using The Feynman Technique) and after that moment of AHA THEY COULD DO IT. And, they didn’t need to come back. 

I did THAT FOR FREE.

I did THAT FOR LOVE.

And, NO, I DON’T HAVE A MASTER’S DEGREE. Honestly, at this point, I don’t feel I actually want one. I DON’T want to be a part of that club, nor establishment either. In this way, I’m somewhat like Socrates, Diogenes, or Bruce Lee... only NOT. I’m ME. 

I have a lot more to say, but I think I will leave it here for now.