#what is a digital surface model

[heraxic]

Hello :o

I just wanted to say thank you (and also thank crumb) for getting me back into thinking about Karl Heisenberg 24/7.

I really love your artstyle, from the amazing expressions (especially the peeved/angry ones) to the scribbly lineart. As someone that’s trying to learn to draw more digitally, I really like to observe your stuff o.o

Your Moldy Family comics are funny, cozy, sweet and comforting all at the same time, and they made me discover and appreciate Eveline (oh man I love how much of a goth tween she is), and the way you draw Heisenberg (his physicality if that makes sense, his clothes, his hair, his everything) is just *chef’s kiss*.

As a former Greek Mythology child, that AU is so so nice owagh. I love all the monster adaptations/designs, it’s all so clever: I love that Kyril is scaley, hairy AND has wings (which I feel aren’t depicted often nowadays with gorgons), Alina is so majestic, with the black tipped limbs and the blood soaked dress, and the daughters being harpies/sirens(?) is also so perfect.

Idk if you’ve already said it, but what is it about Karl’s character that made him interesting to you?

I hope it makes sense (I’m a bit tired) and thank you again for the excellent food :]

Thank you so much!!!<<<3333

he lives in my head rent free…. his crusty-ass hair and barrel-shaped bod gets me every time

im glad you like my scribbly lineart! I tend to get concerned whether it really looks like anything haha

I miss drawing the mold family but i think my forte has always been fantasy, especially cause i love mythology more than anything. That’s not to say i wont go back to the modern mold family though

For greek au karl i wanted him to look like someone had haphazardly stuck animal parts to him so it’d look deliberately unnatural for him to have a relatively normal human body under all that-

I’m not sure i can fully describe why Karl is so interesting. Surface level, being voiced by Neil Newbon is always a big plus and his face model Joel Hicks is awesome-looking. His character design matches his abilities and personality really well, and speaking of personality, queer-coded villains who make a big show out of everything are always going to be my favourite. His gritty, masculine aesthetic is really inspiring in terms of gender as well. On a deeper level, in spite of all the terrible things he’s done, i find him sympathetic and relatable. After decades spent in a highly dysfunctional family, not living on his own terms, completely alone, I need him to finally be okay and get better for his own sake, with the support of people he trusts. It’s the same reason i love Eveline. Morally dark-grey characters who deserved better and could’ve gotten better with a good support system.

[tipsieocart]

MINI COMIC IS DONE it's about 10 panels long

The art isn't the best, just don't read it if your not interested I don't want anyone being annoying Abt it.

Light gore warning.

Summary of my original characters life - some events are skipped it's just the main idea for the comic and his relationship with his father-

Yes my handwriting is that bad and this is cringy. IDC 🙄

Tap to read better.

I should have done it digitally. I might make a digital version we will see.

Anyways here is the summary for his backstory

Phillip was a strange, withdrawn boy, obsessed with protecting his father, Fenhua, but disturbingly detached from everything else. He couldn’t stand being apart from Fenhua, always terrified his father might die without him there. Though, he never explained why. He had a strange aversion to meat with an even more strange excuse. He said he couldn't eat it because he was worried it was a human body —and Fenhua, unsettled, thought it could be something inherited from Phillip’s cold, unreadable mother, Olivia.

Olivia had always been a mystery. After a drunken one-night stand turned into pregnancy, Fenhua tried to make it work, but her eerie, emotionless behavior towards Phillip even when he was an infant eventually drove him away. They settled into a custody agreement, with Phillip shuttling between households every week.

Desperate for money and a better life for his son, Fenhua allowed Phillip to do a single modeling shoot at age five. He had gotten the offer when at his boss' sister's wedding. . It was meant to be a one-time solution, but Phillip's look captivated the internet—and soon, requests from brands and strangers poured in. As Phillip grew, so did his fame. And the silence the agencies left to Fenhua, not informing him correctly on the impact and risks of children in media and fame.

By thirteen, Phillip was spiraling. The industry consumed him. He grew distant from Fenhua, developed bulimia to keep his boyish figure, and collapsed during an ice skating tournament due to exhaustion some organs damage (not severe just added to his exhaustion and lack of energy + mental health in general) . Fenhua was devastated. He begged to understand, but Phillip only broke down and wept, saying he was afraid the truth would cost him the only love he truly cherished.

What Fenhua never knew was that Olivia wasn’t just strange—she was a killer. A member of a powerful crime ring. Phillip had seen enough to be silenced. And for modeling he was Groomed and exploited, he bore the weight of constant sexualization and exploitation by media and the Internet he began to view himself that way, a “whore", as some call it. He hid it all to protect Fenhua, believing his father couldn’t love what he’d become.

But the truth has a way of clawing to the surface. Fenhua, suspicious, pinpointed these problems on Olivia, sense they had so much in common. He searched Olivia’s apartment when finding out she wasn't home after trying to confront her —and discovered a room of horrors, knives, duct tape, and a freezer of human organs. Before he could flee and report this, Olivia came home.

Back at the house, Phillip received a call. It was his father’s number but Olivia’s voice responded. She was taking him to her apartment, where her associates were waiting. There, in a final act of control, she handed Phillip a gun, pointed her own at him, and gave him a choice, shoot Fenhua or she would shoot Phil.

His father, immediately switching up, begged Phillip to save himself. Torn, terrified, and shattered under pressure, Phillip listened to his father, pulled the trigger shooting Fenhua right in the head.

If you read this far we are married

[szariahwroteit]

Girls Need Love: A Kylian Mbappè x Original Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 7

TW: physical abuse.

“Yes, Milan is way closer to Madrid than Los Angeles,” Giselle smirked as she held her phone to her ear. Using her free hand, she slipped on her Chanel sneakers as she prepared to leave her hotel and head to a final dress fitting ahead of the fashion show she was walking in later that evening.

“So come to me,” Kylian said, his voice low and playful, teasing just enough to send a shiver down her spine. “I’ll make it worth your while, you know.”

Giselle rolled her eyes, a half-smile tugging at her lips. “I’m working.” She said as she laced up her sneakers, her heart racing at the thought of being swept away into his world again, filled with excitement and allure.

A little over two weeks had passed since Giselle had been in Kylian’s presence, but the pair remained connected digitally. While she was home in the States, they had found it a little difficult, but since arriving in Milan for Fashion Week, calls and FaceTimes had become more frequent, as had Kylian's persistence in asking her to come to Madrid.

“I can pay you to model for me,” Kylian suggested, his tone shifting into something more intimate. “You could be my muse.”

Giselle leaned against the doorframe, her pulse quickening. She bit her lip, contemplating the offer. “And what would that entail?” she asked, her voice playfully challenging.

“I could use you for motivation,” he murmured.

“Use me?” Giselle echoed, feigning innocence. She arched an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. “And how exactly do you plan on using me?”

Kylian chuckled softly, a hint of confidence lacing his words. “In all the ways I know you liked to be used.”

“I can't just leave in the middle of fashion week; I have commitments,” she replied, forcing herself to sound resolute, even as desire simmered beneath the surface.

“Okay,” Kylian huffed, his tone playful yet low, a quiet confidence threading through.

“I’m literally about to head over to a fitting for the show I am walking in tonight. Can we speak later?” Giselle asked, her voice softening as she anticipated his answer.

“Will you have time for me later?” Kylian asked, a teasing lilt present in his voice as his accent thickened.

“I can make time for you,” she replied, unable to wipe the shy smile from her face. She held her phone to her ear and listened to Kylian's measured breaths on the other end.

“Make sure,” Kylian said, his voice dipping into a rich, sultry tone that sent another shiver racing down her spine. I’ll be waiting.”

Giselle could practically hear the smirk in his voice, the kind that made her mind wander to places she shouldn’t let it go.

Once her conversation with Kylian ended, Giselle pulled on her coat before grabbing her purse so she could head to the hotel lobby to meet with her driver.

As she stepped into the elevator, Giselle couldn’t shake the lingering warmth of Kylian’s voice from her mind. The way he spoke to her, with that playful confidence, always left her wanting more. She pressed the button for the lobby, her heart still racing from their exchange.

The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped out into the bustling lobby of the hotel. Models and designers were scattered about, some rushing to fittings, others lounging with coffee in hand, discussing the latest trends. Giselle felt a rush of excitement mixed with anxiety; tonight’s show was a big deal, and she wanted everything to be perfect.

As she made her way to the entrance, her phone buzzed again. It was a message from Kylian.

Kylian: Don’t forget about me. I’ll be waiting.

She smiled to herself, her cheeks warming at the thought of him. Just then, her driver appeared a tall man in a sharp suit, holding a sign with her name on it. “Miss Giselle,” he greeted with a polite nod.

“Hi!” she replied, her voice brightening as she approached him. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course. Ready to go?” he asked, gesturing toward the sleek black car parked just outside.

“Absolutely,” she said, sliding into the back seat. As the driver pulled away from the hotel, Giselle glanced out the window, watching the vibrant streets of Milan whiz by. The city was alive with energy, and she felt a thrill at being part of it, even if just for a moment.

Her mind drifted back to Kylian. The way he had teased her, the promise of adventure in his words—it was intoxicating. She wondered what it would be like to be in Madrid with him, away from the chaos of Fashion Week, where they could just be.

The car came to a stop outside the fitting venue, and Giselle took a deep breath, shaking off her daydreams. She stepped out, smoothing her coat as she walked toward the entrance. Inside, the atmosphere was buzzing with stylists, sewists, and models, all working together to create something beautiful.

“Giselle!” a familiar voice called out. It was her stylist, Marco, waving her over. “We’ve been waiting for you! Come on, we need to get you ready.”

As she approached, Giselle felt the excitement of the show wash over her. She was here to work, to shine on the runway, and she was determined to give it her all. But as Marco began to fuss over her hair and makeup, her thoughts kept drifting back to Kylian and the promise of what could be.

“Are you ready for this?” Marco asked, his hands deftly pinning her hair into place.

“More than ever,” she replied, forcing herself to focus. “Let’s make it unforgettable.”

As the fitting progressed, Giselle found herself lost in the rhythm of the preparations. The music pulsed in the background, and she could feel the anticipation building in the air. But even amidst the chaos, Kylian’s words echoed in her mind, a tantalizing reminder of the connection they shared.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the fitting came to an end. Giselle stepped back to admire herself in the mirror, her heart swelling with pride. She looked stunning, ready to take on the world.

“Now, go out there and own that runway,” Marco said, giving her a reassuring smile.

With a final glance in the mirror, Giselle nodded, her resolve solidifying. She would give it her all tonight, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that after the show, she might just find a way to make time for Kylian.

As she walked toward the backstage area, her phone buzzed again with another message from Kylian.

Kylian: Break a leg, my muse.

Giselle smiled, her heart racing once more. Tonight was going to be unforgettable, and she had a feeling it was just the beginning.

“Ready ladies!?” a stage assistant called as Giselle and the rest of the models got in line, with her up front as the fashion show's opener.

“Yes!” they all called back simultaneously.

The lights dimmed, and the anticipation in the air thickened as the first chords of music began to play. Giselle's heart raced in time with the beat, her excitement palpable. She could feel the energy of the audience surging, and with each passing moment, her confidence grew.

The moment she stepped out onto the runway, the bright lights washed over her, illuminating every detail of her stunning ensemble. The crowd erupted into applause, and Giselle felt a surge of adrenaline.

With each step, she owned the runway, her movements fluid and captivating. She glanced at the front row, catching glimpses of familiar faces—designers, influencers, and industry veterans—before allowing her mind to slip momentarily back to Kylian. She imagined him in the audience, his eyes filled with admiration, and it fueled her performance even more.

As she turned and posed, Giselle blew a kiss to the camera, which captured her every move, before turning on her heels and strutting back down the runway.

As Giselle stepped backstage, she could wipe the proud smile off her face as she made her way towards the dressing room, accepting compliments as she went.

But as she entered the dressing room, her moment of triumph was abruptly interrupted. The door swung open, and her ex, Jalen, walked in as handsome and menacing as the last time she’d seen him almost two years ago.

“Giselle,” he said, his voice smooth but edged with a possessiveness that made her stomach twist. “You look… stunning.”

Giselle's blood ran cold as the familiar timber of Jalen’s voice filled her ear, instantly making her stomach flip.

A lump formed in her throat, and her eyes prickled with tears. His smirk insulted the fear and uncertainty Giselle felt being in his presence.

Giselle took a step back, her heart racing as memories flooded her mind—moments of love twisted with betrayal, laughter shadowed by pain.

"Giselle," Jalen said, stepping toward his ex. A smirk spread across his face as he noticed the look of fear that flashed in her eyes, a look he once thrived on pulling from her, a look that still made him feel just as powerful as he did when they were together.

Taking in her surroundings, Giselle noticed that only she and Jalen occupied the changing room and slowly began to back towards the door.

“Don’t be scared,” Jalen drawled, reaching for the fallen strap of her dress and slipping it back onto her shoulder. “I’m not going to hit you,” he laughed as his finger trailed down her arm.

“Do not touch me!” Giselle snapped, slapping Jalen’s from her shoulder. “Why are you even here?”

“Vogue hired me to document some of the bigger shows this week; I could ask you the same question, but you probably fucked someone for a spot in the show.” Jalen leaned back against the wall, an arrogant glint in his eyes.

Giselle clenched her fists, the heat of indignation rising in her face. “That’s rich coming from you,” she shot back, struggling to keep her voice steady. “You know nothing about me anymore.”

“Oh, but I know enough,” he replied, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’re still the same girl, desperate for validation. It’s pathetic, really.”

Giselle’s heart raced, a mixture of fury and hurt flooding her veins. She had worked so hard to rebuild herself after their tumultuous relationship, to rise above the shadows he had cast over her. She refused to let him drag her back down.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jalen,” she said, her voice steadying as she stood her ground. “I’ve moved on. I’m not that girl you can toy with anymore.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. “Is that what you tell yourself? Because it doesn’t seem like it. You’re still here, in this moment, letting me get to you.”

Giselle took a deep breath, reminding herself of the strength she had found within. “I won’t let you manipulate me again,” she declared, pushing past him toward the door.

But Jalen was quick, stepping in front of her and blocking her exit. “Where do you think you’re going? You can’t just walk away from me, Giselle.”

“Watch me,” she retorted, her voice unwavering as she met his gaze.

Giselle could feel the adrenaline coursing through her, fueling her determination. She tried to maneuver around him with a firm push, but Jalen was relentless, his body blocking her path like a wall.

“Why don’t you just admit it? You still care,” he taunted, a smug smile on his lips. “You’re just pretending to be strong.”

“Caring about myself and wanting to be free of you isn’t the same as caring about you,” she shot back, her pulse quickening as she fought to maintain her composure. “I refuse to be your punching bag.”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, revealing a flicker of something—uncertainty before he reached for her, snarling as he roughly grabbed a handful of her hair, holding her in place as he took a step closer to her.

“You were never my punching bag; you were a slut who needed to be reminded that the world doesn't revolve around you,” he rasped into her ear before catching it between his teeth.

“Jalen, please,” Giselle squeaked, her voice weak and laced with fear as his hand in her hair tightened, and she attempted to cower away from him.

Giselle's heart raced, and her breath hitched in her throat as the sound of clicking heels echoed through the changing room. It was like a beacon of hope slicing through the darkness of her fear, but she couldn't let her guard down.

At that moment, Jalen's grip faltered, his attention diverted by the approaching footsteps. Giselle seized the opportunity, summoning every ounce of strength she had left. With a swift motion, she twisted away from him, breaking free from his grasp.

“Get away from me!” she shouted, her voice trembling but harsh as she darted towards the door.

Just as she reached the handle, the door swung open, and a tall figure stepped inside—an impeccably dressed woman with a fierce look in her eyes.

“What's going on here?” the woman demanded, her presence commanding as she assessed the situation.

Jalen straightened up, a hint of annoyance flickering across his face, but Giselle could see the tension lingering in his posture. “Just a little chat,” he replied coolly, his bravado wavering under the weight of the woman's scrutiny.

“Chat? It looks more like harassment to me,” the woman shot back, her gaze flicking between Giselle and Jalen. “You need to leave, now. This isn’t a place for your games.”

Giselle's heart swelled with gratitude as the woman stepped closer, shielding her from Jalen's predatory gaze. “Are you alright?” she asked, concern etched on her face.

“I—” Giselle started, her voice shaky but determined. “I’m fine now. Thank you.”

“Are you sure?” the woman asked, her smile soft and empathetic as she placed a comforting hand on Giselle's shoulder.

“I am,” Giselle lied, nodding as she willed herself not to burst into tears.

“Good. Let’s get you out of here,” the woman urged, gently guiding Giselle toward the exit. “I was sent to gather the models for the final walk down the runway,” she explained to Giselle, whose body had slipped into autopilot.

She felt nauseous as they made their way back towards the runway, the left side of her head where Jalen had gripped now throbbing.

If there was one thing Giselle had mastered the art of, it was acting as if everything was okay, even amid turmoil.

Her face was stoic, void of any emotion, as she slowly sashayed down the runway, her eyes ahead and shoulders back as Jalen and his abusive ways consumed her mind.

The lights blinded her slightly, but Giselle kept her focus, channeling all her energy into her performance. With each step, she reminded herself of the strength she had found since breaking free from Jalen. The applause from the audience washed over her, a wave of affirmation that she was worthy of this moment.

As she reached the end of the runway, Giselle struck a pose, allowing the flashes of cameras to illuminate her face. But behind the smiles and the glamour, her heart raced with the memory of Jalen's grip, still fresh in her mind.

Then, as she turned to walk back, her eyes caught a glimpse of him sitting on the floor in front of the front row, his camera at the ready as he took pictures of the models.

Lowering his camera from his face, Jalen sent a wink in Giselle's direction, and it was enough to send her over the edge.

Giselle didn't care about being gracious or showing off the designer's work as she quickly made her way off the runway. The tears she’d fought to keep at bay spilled as she rushed the backstage area, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear the echoes of the applause fading behind her, but all she could focus on was the overwhelming sense of dread that washed over her as she passed by the other models and crew members.

“Giselle! You were amazing!” Marco exclaimed as she rushed past him, but she hardly registered his words.

She felt the weight of Jalen’s gaze on her, a suffocating reminder of the past she was trying to escape. She needed to get away, to breathe, to gather her thoughts.

Finding a quiet corner in the backstage area, Giselle leaned against the cool wall, trying to steady her breath. She closed her eyes, willing the memories of Jalen’s taunts and his grip to disappear. She had come so far, and she couldn’t let him continue to ruin things for her.

Sliding to the floor in her couture gown, Giselle completely broke as she kicked off her heels, hugging her knees to her chest.

The sound of bustling voices and the thrum of the after-show excitement felt like a distant echo as Giselle allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. Tears streamed down her cheeks, a mix of frustration and anger at Jalen for daring to invade her space again and at herself for feeling shaken. She had fought so hard to reclaim her life, to transform herself into a version of Giselle that radiated confidence and strength, and yet here she was, crumbling in a corner backstage.

The sensation of cool fabric against her skin felt both comforting and constricting. Her designer gown was exquisite—a stunning masterpiece that made her feel like a queen upon stepping onto the runway—but it felt like a cage at that moment. Wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, she heard the sound of heels clicking against the floor, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Giselle?” It was the same tall woman from earlier, concern etched across her features as she approached slowly, her presence a haven amidst the chaos. “Are you alright?”

Giselle nodded, though the quiver in her bottom lip betrayed her. “I'm just a little overwhelmed,” she said, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears from her eyes before standing to her feet.

Excusing herself from the brief conversation, Giselle returned to the now-bustling dressing room, ignoring the whispers and concerned stares of other models and staff that floated around the room.

Giselle's hands shook as she removed the couture dress she wore, placing it back into the garment bag and hanging it back on the rail before getting dressed into the sweats she’d worn over to the show.

Grabbing her phone and purse, she messaged her driver, asking him to meet her at the back entrance she’d taken when she arrived earlier that day. She wanted to avoid the cameras, guests, and, most importantly, the chance of running into Jalen again.

Once safely in the car, Giselle shed a fresh set of tears. Her vision blurred as she scrolled through her contacts, unsure who to confide in about her run-in with her ex.

Before she could make the decision for herself, the universe made it for her. Giselle’s heart skipped a beat, and her stomach dropped as Kylian’s name flashed across her phone screen.

Pressing the answer button, she lifted the phone to her ear, her heart racing with a mix of anticipation and dread.

“Giselle,” Kylian’s voice broke through, warm and smooth, despite their distance. “You did amazing out there. I saw you on Instagram.”

“Thank you,” she managed to reply, her voice as unstable as she felt.

“Giselle?” Kylian asked cautiously, his heart skipping a beat as she whimpered into the phone, unable to say anything else. “Giselle, talk to me,” he pressed.

“Kylian… my ex is here in Milan,’ Giselle stammered out, her voice trembling as the memories of Jalen flooded back. “He… he was at the show, and he…”

“Where are you? Are you safe?!” Kylian's deep voice cut through the haze of her emotions, its timbre laced with concern. Giselle felt a rush of warmth at his protectiveness, but panic still held her throat tight.

“I’m okay,” she assured him, her voice still shaky. “I just need to get out of Milan. Can I come to you?”

Kylian's heart raced as he listened to Giselle's trembling voice on the other end of the line. The thought of her ex being anywhere near her, let alone at the same event, filled him with a protective rage.

"Of course, you can come to me," he said firmly, his accent thickening with emotion. "I'll send a private jet to pick you up immediately."

Giselle hesitated for a moment, her breath hitching in her throat. "I'm in the car, heading back to my hotel.“

Kylian's grip tightened on the phone. "Come to Madrid tonight. How soon can you be at the airport?”

Giselle’s heart raced at the thought of leaving Milan behind and seeking comfort in Kylian. It took a little over two for Giselle to gather her things and be at the airport, but everything was handled for her once she was there.

There were no long lines or queuing. Instead, Giselle and her luggage were driven to a private landing strip, where a private jet was waiting to whisk her away.

The sight of the sleek aircraft brought a rush of relief that washed over Giselle like a wave. The chaos of Milan seemed miles away, and she clung to the notion that a reprieve awaited her in Madrid. As she exited the car, the cool night air enveloped her, invigorating and freeing.

“Miss Giselle!” The flight attendant greeted her with a warm smile and a nod, taking her luggage. “Welcome aboard. We’re ready to take off whenever you are.”

The jet's interior was luxurious, adorned with plush seating and soft lighting. Giselle sank into one of the velvet chairs, feeling the tension in her shoulders slowly begin to dissipate. She couldn't shake the memories of Jalen’s presence, but the promise of Kylian’s reassurance soothed her anxiety.

As the engines roared to life, Giselle fished her phone from her purse. With shaking fingers, she fired off a quick message to Kylian.

Giselle: I’m on the jet. Can’t wait to see you.

It felt like an eternity before her phone pinged, her heart racing with anticipation.

Kylian: Good. I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up as soon as you land. Just focus on getting here safe.

Giselle smiled, her heart buoyed by his confidence. She leaned back in her seat, watching as the lights of Milan faded into the darkness below, her thoughts filled with what awaited her on the other side of her journey through the sky.

The flight was a blur; Giselle lost herself in the clouds of anticipation, imagining the embrace of Kylian, the sound of his laughter, and the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at her. By the time they touched down in Madrid, her heart was pounding.

As she disembarked the plane, the night air was cold and biting, but she still felt a contrast to the coldness in Milan. A sleek black car awaited her, and she slid into the back seat, her heart racing as she prepared to see Kylian once again.

The drive through the city was exhilarating, the twinkling lights and vibrant energy wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. She felt liberated from the turmoil of the past day.

When they arrived at Kylian's house—a rather modern estate situated in a upscale neighborhood just outside of Madrid—Giselle’s breath caught in her throat. The door swung open before she could knock, and there he stood.

“Sorry,” Giselle blushed as her eyes glossed over with tears, there were so much different emotions coursing through her as she stood face to face with Kylian again for the first time in weeks.

“Come here,” he said, his voice a soothing elixer that wiped away her apprehensions. Kylian stepped forward, pulling her into his warm embrace, enveloping her in a blanket of safety that she desperately needed.

The world outside faded away as she melted into him, resting her head on his shoulder. All the fear, the confusion, the remnants of Jalen's taunts evaporated. “I missed you,” she murmured, her voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

“Missed you more,” Kylian replied, his breath warm against her hair. He leaned back slightly to look into her eyes, those deep, magnetic pools filled with concern. “What happened?”

Giselle hissed as he ran his fingers over a tender spot on her hair, her scalp beneath sore and slightly raised.

Kylian's brow furrowed, a mix of anger and concern coursing through him. "Did he hurt you?" he demanded, his voice low yet fiercely protective.

Giselle hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much too soon, but the warmth of Kylian’s presence broke down her walls momentarily. "He just... he confronted me after the show. I wasn't expecting him to be there," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "He tried to intimidate me, to get under my skin again."

Kylian's jaw clenched as he processed her words, not entirely convinced by them. "Did he hurt you?” he repeated.

“He grabbed me by my hair when I tried to walk away from him,” Giselle confessed, feeling the emotions swell within her again. “But I got away. I promise I’m okay.”

Kylian's grip on her tightened, his protective instinct flaring to life. “Can I see?” he asked, softly running his fingers through her hair with a gentleness that sent a wave of comfort through her.

Giselle hesitated, the vulnerability rising to the surface. She had spent so long trying to distance herself from Jalen’s hold over her life, trying to stand tall and strong. But here, in Kylian’s presence, she found a safety she hadn’t fully realized she craved. With a slow nod, she tilted her head to expose the tender spot where Jalen had held her.

Kylian's expression darkened as he gently examined the mark, his fingers brushing lightly over her scalp.

"Giselle he can not get away with this," Kylian growled, his eyes blazing with intensity. The protectivenss in his voice made Giselle's heart race, a mix of fear and inexplicable delight coursing through her veins.

"No," she protested softly. "That would only make things worse. I don't want any more drama in my life."

Kylian's gaze softened as he met her eyes, and he let out a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself. “I hate that he did this to you. I hate even more that you had to go through it alone,” he murmured, his voice now low and quiet.

Giselle felt tears well again as she grasped Kylian’s shirt, seeking solace in him. “Thank you for being here now, Kylian,” she whispered, feeling her heartbeat steady slightly in his presence.

Kylian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and she could feel his body radiate warmth and strength. A warmth that drew her to him both physically and emotionally.

Giselle held Kylian’s gaze as the tips of his fingers traced the left side of her hairline, his touch soft and gentle, a complete contrast to Jalen and it was in that moment Giselle came to a reallzation.

Kylian wasn't Jalen, and despite her fear of opening up as she had with her ex, she realized she couldn't let him hold her back any longer.

“Kiss me,” Giselle whispered, her voice steadying as a newfound resolve filled her. The air between them crackled with unspoken desire, a potent mix of anticipation and vulnerability that hung palpably in the space around them.

Kylian's eyes darkened, filled with longing and something deeper that made her pulse race. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with the intensity of the moments they had shared in the past.

“Yes,” she breathed, feeling bold and cherished beneath his gaze. “I need this. I need you.”

Without another moment's hesitation, Kylian closed the distance between them, capturing her mouth with his in a heated kiss. It was tender yet demanding, a fierce affirmation of everything that hung in the air around them. The warmth of his lips ignited a fire within her, pushing away the shadows of her past with every gentle press of his mouth.

Giselle melted into him, her hands gripping at his t-shirt as she deepened the kiss, fueled by the emotions that rushed to the surface.

“I’ve missed you,” Giselle murmured against Kylian's lips as she stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulder, consumed by his warmth and masculine scent.

“I missed you more,” he drawled as his hands slipped to caress her ass, his forehead resting on her shoulder as he squeezed and gripped the flesh between his fingers.

Keeping a hand firmly on her backside, Kylian wrapped the other around her waist lifting Giselle from the floor so she could wrap her legs around him, so he could walk her into his living room.

Giselle gasped at the sudden surge of sensation as Kylian’s strength enveloped her, his arms and body providing a feeling of safety that she had longed for. The world around them melted away, all the tension and fear from Milan evaporating as he carried her through the luxurious space of his home. The decor was sleek and stylish, a perfect reflection of Kylian’s vibrant personality, but all she could focus on was him—the way he held her, the heat radiating off his body, and the intoxicating blend of comfort and desire.

As he set her down on the plush sofa, Kylian’s gaze bore into hers, filled with a mix of concern and passion, as if he was gauging every emotion flitting across her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice lowering to a soft murmur, reminding her of the seriousness of her earlier revelations.

She nodded, her breath stuttering slightly as the electricity in the room pulsed around them. “I am now. You make me feel safe.” It was a simple admission, but it felt monumental to her at the moment.

Kylian’s expression softened, and he moved to sit beside her, his arm wrapping comfortably around her shoulders. “Good. Because I want you to feel that way always.”

Giselle leaned into him, soaking in the warmth and reassurance, and for a moment, she allowed herself to forget everything that had just transpired. The weight of her insecurities and the remnants of fear began to dissipate, replaced by a growing desire that coursed through her veins.

With a boldness she hadn’t known she possessed, Giselle turned her face toward him, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she brushed her lips against his again. It started gently, tentative, as if testing the waters, but with each soft brush, the kiss deepened. Kylian responded immediately, his hand moving to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer.

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Kylian murmured against her lips, his voice thick with yearning. The warmth of his breath sent shivers down her spine, igniting a hunger within her that matched his intensity.

“But I do know,” Giselle whispered back, boldness swelling inside her as she broke the kiss just long enough to look into his eyes.

Kylian’s gaze grew dark with desire, and without breaking eye contact, he slid his hand from her waist to her thigh and back again, gently teasing the waistband of her sweatpants. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you,” he said softly, his fingers brushing against her skin as he eased them down her legs, tossing them to the floor.

“Can I taste you?” he drawled as he slowly moved his fingers back and forth over the dampening crotch of her panties.

Kylian's fingers traced the outline of Giselle's panties, feeling the heat emanating from her core. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with a primal hunger that made her heart race.

"Please," Giselle breathed, her voice barely audible. She arched her back, pressing herself against his hand, desperate for more contact.

With a low growl, Kylian hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them down her legs, his touch igniting a trail of fire on her skin. He tossed the garment aside and parted her thighs, exposing her glistening folds to his eager gaze.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. He leaned in, inhaling her intoxicating scent, and Giselle gasped as his tongue flicked out to taste her, a slow, deliberate swipe that made her toes curl.

Kylian's tongue explored her pussy with a hunger that stole Giselle's breath. He lapped at her slowly, savoring her taste, before focusing on her clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue. Giselle's hips bucked against his face, her fingers failing to grip at his short, perfectly lined hair as pleasure coursed through her.

"There you go, baby," Kylian murmured against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of ecstasy through her core. "Let me hear you." He sucked her clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, and Giselle cried out, her thighs clamping around his head.

Kylian let out a groan as he pinned Giselle’s legs apart on the sofa, his lips and chin glistening with her essence as he raised his head, humming as he spat on clit before slurping the saliva back into his mouth and repeating the action.

Although he had every intention of eating Giselle out until her mind emptied of the days events, Kylian found himself lust-drunk as he feasted.

He leaned back in, burying his face between her thighs once more, his tongue delving deep into her folds. Giselle's cries of pleasure filled the room as he licked and sucked, his fingers joining in to stretch and fill her, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

Just as Giselle felt her orgasm building, Kylian pulled back, leaving her bereft and trembling. He climbed up her body, his hard length pressing against her thigh through his sweats as he captured her mouth in a searing kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, his chin, and it only fueled her desire.

"Kylian, fuck me," Giselle gasped, her voice trembling with urgency as she wrapped her legs around Kylian's waist, pulling him closer. She could feel his hard length pressing against her entrance, and she arched her hips, desperate to feel him fill her.

Kylian groaned, his control slipping as Giselle's heat engulfed the tip of his cock. With a swift thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, stretching her open and filling her completely. Giselle cried out, her nails digging into his back as she adjusted to his size.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Kylian grunted, his hips moving in a steady rhythm as he began to thrust. He pulled back slowly, almost withdrawing completely, before slamming back into her, setting a measured and intense pace.

Giselle met each of his thrusts, her hips lifting off the sofa to take him deeper.

Giselle's cries of pleasure echoed through the room as Kylian pounded into her, his hips moving with a primal urgency. She could feel every inch of him, stretching her, filling her completely, and it was exquisite.

"Harder," she gasped, her voice barely recognizable. "Fuck me harder."

Kylian obliged, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with their labored breaths and moans of ecstasy. Giselle's orgasm was building rapidly, her walls tightening around Kylian's length.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she chanted, her head thrashing from side to side as the pleasure consumed her. Kylian leaned down, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss as he felt his own release approaching.

"Cum for me, Giselle," he growled against her lips. "Cum all over my cock."

Giselle's body tensed, her back arching off the sofa as Kylian's words pushed her over the edge. Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her pussy clamping down around his cock as she screamed his name. Kylian followed her, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside her, filling her with his hot seed.

They stayed locked together, their bodies trembling and slick with sweat, as they rode out the aftershocks of their intense lovemaking. Kylian buried his face in the crook of Giselle's neck, inhaling her scent as he fought to catch his breath.

"That was... incredible," he murmured, his voice muffled against her skin. Giselle hummed in agreement, her arms wrapped tightly around him, unwilling to let him go just yet.

After a moment, Kylian lifted his head, his gaze searching hers. "You are safe with me,"

[capicola323427]

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!

Fun fact, in making this image it was surprisingly my most easiest yet visually pleasing work. I've always viewed at as a graph like this

Of course, that isn't true! It's more like this

That is to say, I believe this illustration allowed me to focus on the efficient fundamentals I built!

Everything here was rendered with only three brushes. All of them the default brushes that come with CSP. Which includes Pastel, Airbrush, and Mechanical Pencil. Because it was a lineless style, that means I could be a lot more forgiving of mistakes here and there. Something doesn't look right? All I gotta do is add a little more with the GPen to the shape. Or can I just draw an outline in the color I want and fill it in with the bucket tool with a area scaling of 0.10! I have to practice more with lineless styles, it is fun! Rendering was a breeze too.

Which was a simple process of:

Create shape > Shade with Airbrush > Highlight with Airbrush > Shade with Pastel > Multiply Shading > Lower Multiply Layer Opacity > Overlay with Textured Fill > Move Textured Fill Layer > Finished!

It's a few steps, but once you get into the groove, it becomes very efficient. I'm sure there's ways I could shave off a few layers, like combining the Airbrush process into two layers instead of one but ehhh sometimes I do it, sometimes I don't. Usually, the bigger the shape the more likely I'll use more layers and the smaller the shape the less likely I'll use more layers! Of course, this process isn't a concrete ruling. Sometimes, I'll use more layers for extra things like the bell required more layers for rendering the shininess of metal! Anyways, I would like to believe I did a decent job at recreating the feel, the vibe, and or general look of an old Christmas Card that's more retro in nature. With a focus on simple shapes, a lineless rendering style, and using textured brushes to render, I think I got it down packed. I used a tiny bit of Chromatic Aberration to give it a little bit of a visual pop, and brighten up the colors. It's subtle, but it works.

Oh, and here's something cool! To get a more embossed Christmas Card feel, I used a new tool that came with Clip Studio Paint!

N O R M A L M A P !

Cool, right? I use a pirated copy of Clip Studio Paint 3.0 and it comes with a tool that allows you to create normal maps from illustrations. Which, from what Google tells me: "A normal map is a texture mapping technique used to add surface details to 3D models without altering their geometry" ...Neat!

Anyways, here's what it looks like

Freaky, right?

It looks like an embossed letter when you set a layer color to it too!

Anyways, I overlayed it on top of the finished illustration, set it to multiply and set the layer color to a warm yellow and it gives it not only texture but a sense of depth too! It's super cool, if you digitally paint you should try it!

With Normal Map Overlay Effect

Without Normal Map Overlay Effect

It's subtle but it's there.

Anyways, that's enough blathering from me! Merry Christmas everyone! I'll be answering some asks this week, so stay tuned!!!

[praxcrown5]

Geology and the World of Cars: Part 2

Last time, we tackled metamorphic rocks. Today, we're gonna learn about igneous rocks! My favorites! Grab your aluminized suit and hug your Blade plushy, 'cause things are gonna get HOT.

Note: Any time you see information followed by an asterisk (*), it is a reference to my own, personal WOC headcanon.

Igneous rock formation is the easiest for humans to comprehend because the basic principals--melting and freezing--are very familiar to us AND happen on time scales that our silly, monkey brains can actually understand.

Behold! An igneous rock!

In all seriousness, if not for being man-made, this horrifying Spongebob popsicle could be classified as an igneous rock!

How?

Igneous rocks form from the cooling of molten rock (called magma or lava depending on whether it is underground or above ground, respectively).

Ice, believe it or not, IS an igneous rock. This is because the ice crystals that comprise it meet all the criteria to be classified as a mineral: They are naturally occurring, inorganic, crystalline solids with definite chemical compositions. To make ice, or any other igneous rock, a molten medium must be chilled to its "freezing point." Water has a freezing point of 32 Degrees F (0 degrees C). At this temperature the movement of individual water molecules is so slow that they start bonding with other water molecules into a repeating, three-dimensional lattice which we call a crystal.

As crystals continue to form and grow at the expense of the melt, they start bumping into other crystals, fusing with them along their edges. Once all the water has been used up, we're left with a solid composed of thousands of interlocking ice crystals.

Igneous rock forms in basically the same way, except that the freezing temperature of molten rock varies between 1,100 and 2,400°F (600-1,300°C)! This is why if you ever see scientists getting close to fresh lava, they wear special, heat-resistant suits that look like they'd fit in to any 1950's era science fiction motion picture.

*Note* I'm not going to into the details of magmagenesis (the formation of magma)...it could be it's own article, tbh. Suffice to say that molten rock is only generated in very specific environments along very specific plate boundaries. Volcanoes are the surface expression of magmagenesis, and most of them can be found in a belt of tectonic activity that "rings" the Pacific ocean, hence it's colloquial name "The Ring of Fire." Most of y'all don't need to worry about a volcano popping up in your backyard...

Ok...so let's apply what we've learned so far to the World of Cars, starting with volcanism.

A "volcano" is a mountain created when "volcanic materials," such as ash and lava, pile up over a fissure in the Earth's crust. There are many different types of volcanoes, each with their own eruptive styles and geomorphology (aka physical traits).

The only actively erupting volcano we see in the WOC is the unnamed mountain in Cars on the Road Episode 1: Dino Park.

Lookit how 'dorbs it is! Such a cute, widdle guy....

Note the steep sides and "cone" shaped profile. This shape is characteristic of "stratovolcanoes," a family of volcanoes that are built from alternating layers ("strata") of hardened lava and "tephra" (fragmented rock of varying sizes). Normally the slopes aren't as steep as what's depicted here, though there are exceptions (Ol Doinyo Lengai, Goma, etc...). Compare this to the much more realistic depiction of Mt. Fuji--also a stratovolcano--in Cars 2.

Fuji's sleek and beautiful cone was built on the remains of older volcanoes over a vast swath of geologic time (the earliest eruption on record was from 12,000 BE (Before Exodus--4.12 million years B.P.*). It warms my heart--no pun intended--that the animators really did their best to convey her size and natural beauty on the digital canvas.

Evidence of Plutonic (i.e. underground) processes: Piston Peak National Park (PPNP):

PPNP was modeled VERY heavily off of an Old World landmark: Yosemite National Park. After analyzing DOZENS of screencaps, it appears that the underlying geology is comparable to Yosemite, and I headcanon that the modern V6 valley is located in approximately the same location as Yosemite, albeit different due to a combination of time, terraforming and geologic processes.*

Piston Peak National Park is located within the heart of the Sierra Nevada, a massive, 300-mile long mountain range in California.* Most of the rocks in and around the valley are classified as "granitoids" AKA granite-like igneous rocks.

Most of you may be familiar with the word "granite." Maybe your ma installed some fancy, new "granite" countertops or you were touring a building that had "granite" floors. Notice I'm using a lot of quotation marks here...mostly because the word "granite" has become something of an umbrella term that folks use whenever they encounter something made out of sparkly rock. To a geologist, the word "granite" brings to mind an igneous rock that is "coarse-grained" (its component minerals are large enough to identify without a microscope) and contains the minerals quartz, alkali feldspar and plagioclase feldspar in a specific proportion (see graph below):

So...what does the rock actually look like? Below is a sample of rock that was collected from a long-since weathered landform called Half-Dome (close to where modern-day Piston Peak is located*).

Each speck of color you see here is a different mineral: The pinks and whites are various feldspar minerals, the grey-ish white ones are quartz and the darker minerals are hornblende and biotite. And while there is no scale bar in this image, the largest black mineral is about .5-1cm long. Big enough that you can see it without a microscope. To get crystals this big, magma must cool slowly...and usually that means staying underground for 10s or 1000s to millions of years (otherwise it would cool so quickly that the mineral crystals would be microscopic).

Now that we know what type of rock we're dealing with, let's zoom out a bit and look at ancient Yosemite and it's modern equivalent, V6 Valley.*

Most all of the rock that you see in these images is granite or granodiorite. That's a hell of a lot of cooled magma, well over 100 square kilometers of it. And due to the course-grained nature of the rock, all of it should have originated as huge, underground magma chambers that cooled slowly over tens of thousands of years.

So...how did it get to the surface?

The short answer is regional uplift. Most of the solidified magma (AKA "plutons") was emplaced during the Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous periods. Much later, during the Neogene period, new tectonic forces caused blocks of the now mostly-solid Sierra Nevadas (and the underlying igneous rocks) to rise upward. This exposed the rocks to greater amounts of wind and water erosion. Westward-flowing streams, especially, began to carve down through the rock creating deep, v-shaped valleys. Many times these rivers cut down a LOT faster than their "tributaries" (the smaller streams that flow into a larger one), creating "hanging valleys" and waterfalls. The waterfall at Augerin Canyon is an excellent example.

Other interesting features:

Desquamation (essentially, "removing or loss of scales"):

Remember how all this rock used to be deep underground? Once all of the overlying rock and sediment (collectively "overburden") was removed, the rocks were exposed to surface pressures, and began to to depressurize, breaking along curved fractures, creating an onion-skin like appearance to many exposed rock surfaces.

Image above: Desquamation on granite in Ancient Yosemite.*

Images above: Desquamation on modern Canopy Dome, Piston Peak and on the canyon walls near the park entrance!

Bonus Cabbie butt for...aesthetic reasons.

*Bonus geology--not igneous related*

Another thing you'll also notice in PPNP is that large swaths of rock appear to have been smoothed out. While you could chalk this up to animators not having the time/budget to render "accurate" rock texture, this type of erosion is VERY common in mountainous areas that have been affected by glaciers. A "Glacier" is channelized ice that flows downhill under its own weight. As the ice descends, it picks up sediment, everything from boulders to clay, and then drags it over the topography. Rugged crags are rounded or carved into sharp blades or spires (if they weren't covered), and v-shaped canyons and valleys take on U-shaped profiles (check out the group shot below).

I'm certain that if we zoomed in on some of the exposed rock, we'd also see "glacial striations" and/or "glacial polish," where the rock was scratched and/or polished by the sediment laden ice.

There's also some cool, structural stuff going on elsewhere in the park (Thunderbolt Bluffs and Rail Ridge...), but we'll discuss them in a future essay.

Ok, back to igneous stuffs...

Hot springs and Geysers:

Hot springs and geysers (collectively called "geothermal" features), are manifestations of volcanic activity. They form when groundwater, heated by magma or hot rock deep under ground, reaches the surface. A geyser differs from a hot spring in that the heated water flashes to steam and explodes upward in a stunning spray of steam and mist. Gasket Geyser is one such example.

The only feature in the park that appears out of place is Piston Peak, itself.

Piston Peak is a combination of two, different geologic landforms: a "hoodoo" and an "arch." Unfortunately, these delicate features require specific conditions to form: Variation in rock type (usually layered, sedimentary rock) and minimal moisture. The rocks in and around V6 valley are similar enough, compositionally and structurally, that they erode in a more uniform way compared to, say, the rocks in Monument Valley. Furthermore, there's quite a bit of water present in PPNP, flowing as rivers, and falling as rain or snow. Ice that forms within a crack or fracture can actually wedge the rock apart over long periods of time, a process called "frost wedging." Combined with desquamation, and Piston Peak should have been reduced to a pile of rubble within a few centuries. The same holds true for the arches inside Augerin Canyon (below). They're simply much too delicate to exist in a climate with severe winters that can dump as much as 15' of snow during a single event.

It is possible that these features were carved from existing features to accent their natural shapes, but since we don't have any canon evidence for that, such an assumption falls withing the realm of conjecture/headcanon.

That's all I got for now. Stay tuned for WOC Geology Part 3: Sedimentary Rocks.

Cheers!

Praxyw

[fromthedust]

Sophia Collier (American, b.1956)

River under Me (two views) - carved acrylic - 61 x 40.6 x 5.1 cm - 2012

". . . I was walking across a bridge and looked down at the water and thought I wish I could pick up a piece of the surface and keep it forever. This idea became a compelling force."

"I create computer code which tells the router what to carve. I have come to see the surfaces I create as lenses. The light cast from the surface jumps from the boundary of the block and throws off brilliant shapes that offer both tranquility and challenge. The shapes are abstract but primal and familiar."

Through the use of animation and 3D modeling, Collier models digitally the water surface, inserting randomly a source of wind that determines the movement of the waves. Other times, the artist collects sounds with a microphone and extracts them using a software. The sound information acquire a solid shape forming the size of the waves with its rhythmical patterns. Sounds are essential in her work because they are as elusive as the waves, but are also as vital as water. When a surface is finished she carves it from an acrylic block using the CNC router in her studio in Sausalito. Finally, she polishes it to optical clarity.

Dark Water - carved acrylic

[bonafideyapper]

THE TRADER'S DAUGHTER - cooper "the ghoul" howard x female!oc (part 4)

*THIS IS A DIRECT CONTINUATION OF PART 3** (guess what? I LIED when I said it would be past/present/past/present, enjoy whatever this is.)

Warnings: language, badly written smut, mentions of body hair (has to be a normal occurence in fallout bc theres no razors out there????), dbf!cooper, P in V sex, unprotected sex, ghoul fucking, unprotected irradiated creampie, Rad Away as birth control, as always not proofread

a/n: Alright! I’m not fully happy with this, but I DID promise a part 4 tonight so here she is in all her glory. Still bad at writing smut, deal with it. (Even tho I’m bad at writing it this is basically just smut with like, small plot points strewn about.)

Word count: 2.1k

previous part - masterlist

Previously, on The Trader's Daughter...

“Ohh, ya want me to touch ya, huh?” Cooper spoke in a hushed tone so as to not alert to her father in the next room what was about to happen. “What happened to you’re too young for me?” He squeezed her thigh with a strong grip, a wide grin coming to his face as he coaxed her thighs open. 

“Coop, I-” Daisy breathlessly whispered, overwhelmed by the man and his voice and his hands. Lord have mercy, his hands, those hands that she had dreamed about touching her in ways that would make angels cry. The hands that had strangled a man to death for threatening her. 

“I want you to touch me.”

“Well now darlin’, I can touch you however you want me to. But this ain’t gonna be no casual fuck. If I touch you now, you’re a marked woman.” Cooper whispered against the shell of Daisy’s ear, his scarred hand scooting closer to where she craved him most. He could tell she was flustered, and he loved that even after years of being hardened by the wasteland, he still had that panty-dropping effect on members of the fairer sex. 

“You sure you want an old man like me to irradiate that pretty little body of yours, flower?” Cooper kept his voice low, fully aware of his friend snoring less than ten feet away. 

Daisy’s mouth was dry and she would kill for some water. Somehow she managed to whisper back, “I’ve been on the surface a long time too, Cooper. I can handle a little rad poisoning. Got a good supply of Rad Away stashed away.” 

Cooper ran his tongue over his cracked lips, intrigued by the spice coming from the sweet little lady falling apart and he hadn’t even started to touch her yet. “Yeah? Sounds like you’ve been waitin’ a while for a moment like this, sugar. Hell, if I’d’ve known you’d been waitin’ for me this long I would’ve made my way back to you sooner. Could’a gave you another pretty little gift.” His hand reached for her necklace, letting his large calloused digits linger around the little white pearl. He could feel the breath trapped in her chest and swore he could hear the thumping of her heart trapped behind her ribs.

A decade of yearning had led her here, and Daisy was latching on. “Can I um, can I tell you something, Coop?” She felt like a teenage girl again as she looked up at the ghoul inching closer and closer to her, until his knee was slotted between the two of hers. If her father were to walk out now, they could probably play off the position as platonic, as an old friend leaning closer to get a good look at someone they hadn’t seen in years. A wave of nerves rushed over her as she watched him nod, calming herself as she thought about how he was much less of an intimidating figure without that old cowboy hat perched on top of his head. 

“You’re like, the guy I modeled my dream man after-” Daisy froze when she heard a shift to her father’s snoring pattern, bringing her awareness back to her surroundings. Cooper swiftly grabbed her chin to force her attention on him. “Uh uh, attention back on me, sweetheart. It’s just us. Now, you were sayin’ about how I was your perfect man?” As he spoke, his hand crept closer to the belt still fastened around her waist, taking his time and being disrespectful in his slow movements to pop her pants open. With each point the woman listed about how he was the model, he dipped one more finger down the front of her pants. 

“W-Well yeah, you’ve always been a very honorable man. Always take care of the people close to you.” Daisy tried to keep the conversation as casual as she could but still put up no fight as his fingers dipped below her waistband. She cautiously scooted herself down in the chair to widen her legs for him, blushing when he clicked his teeth, “That’s a good girl. You gonna keep bein’ a good girl for me, flower? Keep tellin’ me ‘bout myself.” Cooper smirked at her, his fingers ghosting over the skin of her stomach.

Daisy swiped her tongue over her lips, desperate for some kind of moisture in her mouth. She’d gladly accept it if he spit in her mouth, and actually, she wanted it. She’d do anything for him, especially if it would keep his hand sinking further down. “I think that you’re a good protector, a great shot back in the day. I’d totally outshoot you now.” She had to throw in a little jab of attitude towards him, wanting to see where it’d get her. “Like the way you talk, always callin’ me some kind o’ pretty-” 

Cooper could’ve lost it right then and there when his fingers slipped through the soft curly bush coating her puffy lips, “Look at that, sweet girl, you’re soaked and I ain’t even really touched you yet.”  He bragged, letting his finger tap against her clit a few times to watch her twitch, “And princess, as much as I wanna hear that sweet voice of yours scream my name, gonna need you to be quiet for me. Think you can do that?” He whispered to her as he sunk two thick digits into her dripping hole, shoving the same fingers on his other hand into her mouth to silence her when her jaw went slack. “Bite down if you need to; I won’t mind.” 

Daisy was on cloud nine, needing to grip the table to hold herself together. She couldn’t tell if this was really happening, not until she felt his weathered fingers brushing against that little spot inside her, building up a tight knot that he was eager to coax from her. She wrapped her pretty little lips around his fingers and then Coop thought he was on cloud nine— he’d get those pretty little lips wrapped around something else soon enough, but right now he was committed to teasing her and making her cum with his fingers. Y’know, had to see if he still got it (he did, he was shocked to find that it took less than five minutes of manipulation for her to gush in his hand with a muffled moan as he clasped his hand over her mouth.) 

Daisy closed her thighs around his hands and tried to let her head tip back, half-lidded eyes staring up at his as he dug his fingers in her mouth and pulled her head up to look at him. She whimpered at the loss of his fingers and watched as he licked them clean, a bright red tinge on her cheeks. 

“Sweeter than any peach I’ve ever tasted, flower.” Cooper ran his finger over her lips gently, letting her taste herself on the digit. She damn near couldn’t see straight and here he was, still egging her on. “Now, princess, think you can stay quiet for me?” 

Any kind of strong-woman act that Daisy had created for herself in her lifetime had dissolved in an instant, turning to putty in his hands and feeling like she was a virgin all over again as she begged him to fuck her. “Please, Cooper, please- I’ll be quiet, I promise. Please, please-” She whispered, keeping her eyes locked on his to show she was being serious. “We can go downstairs, won’t have to worry about dad.” 

Cooper pushed himself back from her and stood up, holding his hand out for her to take. “Come on then, pretty girl.” Daisy was quick to stand on her shaky legs, not seeming to care about the wet spot that had formed between her legs. She grabbed onto his hand and essentially dragged him down the stairs, pretty eager for a grown woman. Hey, again, Cooper reawoken her teenage dream, Daisy is in no way to blame for her actions. Without having to think about his actions, Cooper easily tossed the girl around like a ragdoll. Their bodies combined in a mixture of clashing teeth and lips and limbs blindly grabbing for each other. Daisy slung an arm around his neck to pull his head closer to her, channeling a lifetime of desire behind her kiss. She’d never been kissed like this before, none of the boys she had messed around with during her girlhood had ever touched her the way Cooper had been 

She didn’t have to be told twice, Cooper had barely muttered a “get these off” while pulling at her pants and she had dropped them down around her ankles. She kicked them off and smiled wide when he put his hands on her again, this time to easily lift her up onto the countertop. Daisy locked her legs around his waist and whimpered softly when he broke away from her, already begging for him again, “Coop, please don’t stop yet-” “Aw, darlin’, I’m not stoppin’ shit.” Cooper cracked a sideways smirk, “Not gonna keep you beggin’, either, even though you sound sooo pretty.” he let her dig her hands between them, watching her eagerly take his belt off in the dark backroom of the storefront. He made short work of pushing his pants down, reaching down to grab her thighs and pull her closer to his front.

Daisy helped him out a little by scooting her hips forward, just barely hanging off the side of the counter. She couldn’t help but notice how large his hands were against the flesh of her plump thighs as he grabbed on her, wishing she could see more of him in the dark. She wondered how the years of radiation exposure had affected his dick, but didn’t have to spend long on that thought before he had lined himself up and thrust into her. “Oh fuck-” As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth in a moan, Cooper had that hand slapped over her mouth again.

“Nuh-uh, none of that now, flower. Gonna- fuck- gonna wake up your old man. Don’t want that now, do we?” Cooper whispered against the shell of her ear, barely able to hold himself together now that he was inside her and damn-near feral. He smirked as she nodded against him, her eyes still trained on his. “Good girl.” he whispered as he painstakingly pulled out of her to just the tip, only to slide right back in and bottom out with his hips flush against hers.

Daisy whimpered against his hand and reached up to hold it firmly against her mouth, not wanting to risk not being his good girl. (Also not wanting to risk her dad walking in, but to be honest, she wasn’t thinking much about him when Cooper was between her thighs.) She couldn’t think straight, her mind was completely occupied with himhimhimhimhim. Part of her still felt like this was a dream as she mumbled something against his hand, something along the lines of “don’t hold back.” She figured he could understand her because instead of that painfully slowwww process of teasing her, he started fucking her. And this wasn’t like any of the meaningless fucks she had before, this was with a grown man, a man who had been changed by the immense suffering he had been through before he fell into her life. He was fucking her like his life depended on it and she was drunk on every second. 

Cooper didn’t know how long he’d be able to last with her walls gripping him the way she was, with her pretty brown eyes locked on his the entire time. It was much more intimate than he had intended for this to go, he had wanted it to be a good fuck but not one that would leave her wanting more. He had things he needed to do once he left her in the morning, and he hoped that this would be enough to tide her over until he could come back to his Daisy. 

Unbeknownst to him, she’d be joining him in his next adventure, whether he wanted her to or not. 

“Fuck, darlin’, where do you wan’ me to fin’sh?” Cooper groaned out softly, digging his scarred fingers into the soft skin of her hips, hard enough to leave bruises to remember him by. His words had started to slur together more than usual with that accent of his. Daisy whimpered as she leaned up to press her lips to his, gripping onto the back of his head to keep him close to her, “Told you I got enough Rad Away to stock a Super Duper Mart, where d’ya think I wanted it?” She still had that snippy little attitude to her even after Coop did his best to fuck it out of her (although that hadn’t been the primary goal, it’ll continue to be his goal as long as he continues to fuck her.) 

His smirk lit up his face as he bottomed out in her one last time, his hips faltering a bit as he happily pumped her full of his unfruitful seed. He kept his eyes on her face as he watched her- what, third? orgasm take over her. He had lost count after he made her cum the first time with just his fingers. Gentle in his movements this time around, he pulled out of her slowly, taking a second to lean back and watch the cum leak from between her thighs. A satisfied smirk never leaving his face, “Where do you keep the Rad Away?”

gif credit @thesoldiersminute

divider credit @cafekitsune

taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser @fallout-girl219 @imtherain @looneylooomis

(I'm trying to compile my taglist from both accounts, so I hope I didn't forget anyone!)

[jedi-valjean]

Max Rebo or Neel— What's the difference?

A lot of people are confused by the fact that Neel and Max Rebo are, apparently, not the same species. As I've been watching Skeleton Crew, I've picked up on some key differences that really set them apart. On the surface, they both look like blue elephants, but the resemblance pretty much stops there. Let's dive into the differences:

Anatomical Build

If you're a fan of Max Rebo, you're probably aware that his "arms" are actually supposed to be his feet! There's a whole article about this. Ortolans have occasionally been depicted in canon according to their Legends body plan (which does include legs,) but you can see an example of their armless depiction here:

It goes without saying that Neel's species (which is currently unnamed) does not follow this body plan.

Hair

This one's pretty easy. Ortolans have never been depicted with hair, implying they cannot grow it. All examples of Neel's species have been depicted with hair. Honestly I don't think I even need to attach pictures for reference since I'm going to be posting so many already.

Snout, Mouth, and Facial Area

This is where it gets interesting. Compare the snouts on these two images.

With the Ortolan character, an arms dealer known as the Dragon, we can see that he has a small mouth under his snout, just like Neel. But his nose is long, round and bulbous, with no nostrils. Neel's, by comparison, is more like a tapir's, with nostrils on the end and a wrinkled, tapering shape. Neel also has adorable little cheeks, which Ortolans do not.

Also note that Ortolan snouts are prehensile, per this comic:

I think it's safe to assume that Neel's species can't do this. I will say, however, that I cannot really imagine Max Rebo's live action counterpart with the range of motion necessary to curl the end of his snout like this. It does somewhat resolve an issue regard holding things and walking at the same time, but it still strikes me as slightly odd.

Eyes

This is another big difference that you can spot right away. Max Rebo (and all Ortolans) have round, lidless black eyes. Neel's eyes are more humanoid— they have sclerae, irises, lids, and if you zoom in on the picture below, you'll see lashes.

Basically, Neel can blink— Max can't. (There are comics that contradict this, but unlike the example of the prehensile snout, this can be handwaved as a stylistic choice.)

Digits

Another extremely obvious difference is in the digits. Max Rebo's hand-like feet have five digits ending in suction cups. (Fun fact: Ortolans use these suction cups to absorb food and drink!)

Neel, on the other... hand, has four digits, which do not have suction cups, but fingernails:

Coloration

Ortolans are uniformly blue except for the pink ends of their suction-tipped digits. Neel, on the other hand, has pinkish purple coloring on his palms and the underside of his snout and ears.

Back Flap

Ortolans, at least in some depictions, have a fatty flap on the back of their heads. I can only find these two examples:

But Neel doesn't have one (because he's a different species.)

Height and Sexual Dimorphism

Ortolans are generally depicted as shorter than humanoids, as shown here:

Neel, however, is the same height as his peers, and his parents are the same height as the human adults in the show:

There also appears to be some sexual dimorphism in Neel's species— while the proportions of his mother's head appear to be similar to her middle school-aged son, his father (who I could only find in this one shot, unfortunately) has a much larger head and a longer snout. It appears as though he also possesses tusks, though I'm not entirely certain.

Ortolans do not appear to exhibit notable sexual dimorphism in any depiction; this is an image of a female Ortolan bartender:

Ears

Finally, the ears appear to be subtly different. Ortolans have big floppers that don't appear to have a significant degree of muscle support— they're just flat blobs. (I'm putting a picture of Max Rebo's model from The Book of Boba Fett, but I'm very salty about it. It falls short of the original on the left in so many ways.)

Neel's ears appear to have more structure to them— they're bisected by what seems to be some sort of large sinew or pair of sinews. They appear as though they may be prehensile to a degree. (Although it's been suggested that Ortolan ears are actually flippers, I have not seen evidence of this in official media.)

So next time you see an Ortolan or a member of Neel's species (which will hopefully get a name soon,) you'll be able to tell the difference! Putting a picture here of one of Neel's younger siblings 'cause I like it and don't really know how to end this post

[o-craven-canto]

What is your position on the debate between contingency and convergence in evolution? As a creator and enjoyer of speculative evolution, I imagine you might fall more towards contingency, but I'd still be curious on your overall thoughts on it, and on how different a separate run of evolution on an earthlike planet would really be.

Hmm.

Biologists usually distinguish two types of resemblance among organisms: analogy, which mostly regards general function and appearance and is driven by common conditions, and homology, which mostly regards deep structure and is driven by common ancestry.

All the limbs of land-dwelling vertebrates and their descendants are made of one long bone, followed by two parallel long bones, followed by a maximum of five (except in ichthyosaur flippers) series of digit bones. This you see from frogs to seagulls to horses to manatees to moles -- the descendants of proto-amphibians such as Ichthyostega -- but not in any other animal group. This is the canonical example of homology: there is no reason for such different limbs with functions so different to share the same 1-2-n pattern except inheritance from a common ancestor. On the other hand, the wings of birds and those of insects, or for that matter their eyes, are so different because they arose independently. The common features in the wings of a hummingbird and a dragonfly are due to the same physical constraints, and that is analogy.

Sometimes it depends from the level of analysis: bird wings and bat wings are analogous as wings -- their flight surface is achieved by different means, feathers in one and skin in the other -- but homologous as vertebrate forelimbs -- they have the same 1-2-n sequence of bones, and their development is regulated by the same genes.

There are, of course, physical reasons for structures to resemble each other: everything that moves quickly through water needs to be more or less spindle-shaped; everything that grows past a few hundred grams on dry land needs some sort of rigid support; photosynthesizers and filter-feeders need fractally branching structures; and so on. Compound eyes and exoskeletons really are more efficient at smaller sizes, camera-type eyes and internal skeletons at larger, so that's a reason other than ancestry for insects and birds to be so different; but the largest butterflies are bigger than the smallest hummingbirds, so it's not just a matter of scale; and the eyes of tunas are more like the eyes of eagles than like the eyes of squids, so it's not just a matter of environment.

Some classical examples of convergent evolutions overstate their case a bit: sharks, ichthyosaurs, and dolphin all started from the same aquatic vertebrate chassis, so their similarity is not pure environment-driven convergence. (But it is a bit: from the same chassis you can also make a turtle or a crane.) Similarly for marsupial mice and moles vs. their placentate equivalent, none of whom gets that far from the original mammal model to begin with. When you get a bit farther, you find that the Australian equivalent of a horse is not an almost identical "marsupial horse" but a kangaroo, for reasons that have to do with marsupial birth. It's the same for the now-famous case of carcinization, which only applies to decapod crustaceans -- it's not even universal for crustaceans in general! If you try over and over to make an open-water pursue predator out of the vertebrate plan, you'll get similar results: the shark, the tuna, the ichthyosaur, the dolphin. But try the same with the mollusk plan, and you get a squid.

Now, convergence is likely to occur on other planets, because anything recognizable as life will have similar requirements and meet similar challenges. But it will be much more subtle than making planets full of blue horses and humans with weird eyebrows (I can't overstate how complex and specific the history of our body shape is). Assuming an Earth-like planet, for example, I'd expect its surface ecosystems to be overwhelmingly based on photosynthesis, its "plants" to have branching shapes with flat light collectors, and its largest "animals" to be bilaterally symmetrical with eyes, intestines, and skeletons of some sort. But that still leaves an enormous amount of variety, based both on ancestry and on smaller-scale micro-environmental constraints: note that the description of "animal" I gave fits equally a tarantula, a giraffe, a snail, and an axolotl.

TL;DR: many important traits of living organisms are made necessary by physical and environmental constraints, but there's an immense variety of ways to develop them, and that is mostly going to be driven by contingencies in ancestry. In my opinion, that is.

As readings, I'd recommend The Equations of Life: How Physics Shapes Evolution (Charles Cockell, 2018) and Convergent Evolution on Earth: Lessons for the Search for Extraterrestrial Life (George McGhee, 2019) as summaries of the physical constraints and useful strategies that are going to arise over and over in living systems, as well as this brief paper on the evolution of complexity in alien life. Note how much similarity they predict, but also note how much they don't!

Thanks for the question! <3

[quill-firefly]

The Sight of Stars Through a Gilded Cage (SG TFOne AU Fanfic)

I have finished all the training to secure my job so I am officially employed now, yippee.

I am very tired skskks I am writing this after an entire day of job training, which isn't good cause my brain is very tired and words are hard. But I wanted to write something that will make me at least a little happy (as a treat for the long exhausting day).

To help in reading, essentially there's three sections. First section is the present, second section is the past, and third section is like really far back in the past. So it's chronologically backwards.

Anyway, as can be apparent from most of my Shattered Glass fics which feature Starscream, I am a father/mentor-figure Starscream truther (at least for TFOne and thank you storyboards for feeding that agenda hahaha). On Tumblr, since I did receive two new writing requests about platonic yanderes, I'm writing this fic as a sort of indulgence for myself and to help practice writing platonic yanderes (cause different vibes from romantic yanderes). Now, why did I write this in the Shattered Glass AU instead of just the normal universe? Because I like making SG!Megatron suffer (this is what happens to my favorite characters lmao). Also I need to practice in writing SG!Starscream because I prefer to have my SG TFOne AU keep some semblance of their canonical personality and I feel I might be leaning too much into the SG comics for inspiration instead of the TFOne characters themselves.

Also, it's not that important but I do ship Starscream and Megatronus Prime now (even though they never interact in the movie because one of them is dead HAHAHA) because I don't know I feel like those two probably worked closely together before Megatronus Prime died (and because there's no Skyfire in TFOne so I can't go to my automatic ship HAHAHA). I only point this out cause it's in the tags, and also Starscream can't help but see Megatronus Prime in Dee (mostly because I keep seeing those silly posts on Tumblr where people joke Dee is Megatronus Prime's secret love child and it makes me laugh at the thought - and it isn't helped that my SG!Megatron could fly and technically modelled his transformation cog after Starscream's… so ya know the accidental implication I have made is funny). Also also, I saw a Tumblr post (WHICH I LOST DAMNIT BUT GOD WHOEVER POSTED THAT COOKED) where like they compared Startronus as Rose x Pearl and Megatron as Steven and it was so good skskksksk

Also this is somewhat related to "The Prime from Another Universe" but not really, I'm just using the same concept of Dee wanting to leave Cybertron and just travel the stars - but here he's guilt-tripped into staying.

TW: Platonic Yandere Stuff

When you are banished from the only home you’ve ever known, where do you go?

Dee thought he had a home.

Pax had been his home.

Then he met Prime, and Dee realized he never had a home. 

He had carved a place for himself inside Pax’s spark and called it home, but to the other mech, Dee would never have been enough. He had wanted more, not that Dee could resent him for it now. It was for the best that they parted.

Pax could have his dream, and Dee could have his.

Yet even now, the stars continue to slip through his digits.

Was it the moral core in his processor that grounded him, or the golden cage he’d willingly chosen to enter?

Now… Dee thought that wasn’t fair.

After he had fruitlessly battled Pax to save a mech Dee didn’t think deserved to live anyway, Starscream had generously taken him in knowing that the rough terrain of the surface would have eventually killed him.

Dee was not a survivor. Never had been.

He had followed Sentinel’s words without doubt. He kept his helm low, and never questioned the system they had been placed within.

Pax was the survivor.

That’s why Primus chose him.

And it’s why Pax would never have stayed with Dee. He would have never settled for a life he thought he didn’t deserve.

Even with the rule of a new Prime, there was nothing stopping Dee from leaving. The Quintessons had been defeated. All that remained was Optimus Prime and the tyranny he posed.

He couldn’t leave though.

He owed too much to the High Guard to abandon them.

He owed it to Starscream. After everything, he owed it to him the most…

Besides, he already asked Starscream once.

He tried to ask.

Once.

—

Starscream couldn’t help but keep both his optics on his new responsibility.

Starscream had been older than Dee when he had first applied to the High Guard. It had been a decision he had made, and a choice he would never regret. He had chosen to fight for the planet he loved.

A war was no place for a mech so young.

When Starscream could force his anger down, even he felt sorry for the new Prime. Ambitious as Orion Pax may have been, Starscream knew the young mech was not ready for the responsibility of being a Prime and the Matrix-holder.

The Thirteen Primes had been vastly older and Starscream had to deal with their tantrums.

Well not all of them.

Megatronus had been…

He had been wonderful.

The kindest and strongest mech he had ever known. A true warrior of both the body and the spark. Starscream would have laid down his life for his Prime if Megatronus had ever allowed him to.

How many lunar cycles did they spend together? Megatronus Prime would always whisper to him - as though it was their secret - that he wished his fellow Primes were not so wrathful and so power hungry.

Starscream missed him—

“Starscream?”

He shook his helm, forcing a scowl to his faceplate as he turned to the younger mech. They were both in the medical bay, and if Dee hadn’t been the medic assigned during this particular joor, Starscream might have put up more of a fight. He never did like being grounded. Also, it didn’t help that the only other medic around was Shockwave who would have fussed over Starscream as if he was a sparkling and not the Commander of the High Guard.

“What? I told you and those pain-in-the-aft trine brothers of mine that the scratches in my wings did not need repairs!” It had been nothing more than a scuffle between him and one of the Prime’s scouts. Really, Thundercracker and Skywarp had given him more pain by dragging him to the medical bay. “This is a waste of medical resources—”

“...That wasn’t what I was going to say.” Dee muttered, the words low in his vocoder that Starscream’s audials nearly missed it.

“Is your shift over? If it is then let me out, I don’t want to deal with Shockwave.” He rolled his optics. Shockwave’s high empathy was the reason why Starscream made him medic… but Primus knows that the other mech meddled too much.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say but… Starscream, as the leader of the High Guard, I don’t think it’s a waste to use our medical resources on you.” The younger mech’s blue optics met his own, a hardness in his eyes. “When I was a miner, medical supplies were abundant but it would cost us our energon rations if we were to be sent to the medical bay. I know you want to keep the High Guard functioning by conserving resources, but I don’t think depriving anyone of medical assistance will help. Especially if you deprive yourself, Commander.”

“Is that anyway to talk to your superior officer?” A growl tore through his vocoder, though both mechs knew it held no threat. 

He held too much of a softspark for his new responsibility.

“Starscream, you deserve to live for yourself too.”

‘You shouldn’t throw your life away for mine.’

Starscream nearly fell off the medical berth. He placed a servo to his helm, surprised to hear the voice of a mech long dead. Slowly, he turned his optics to a startled Dee, who watched him with a concerned gaze.

He hated that this wasn’t the first time Megatronus Prime’s ghost had come to haunt him.

He had spent fifty cycles trying to forget what he had lost, and yet all of that effort was thrown away the moment this… this…

Starscream hated how the young mech reminded him too much of Megatronus.

Maybe it was the stupid helm shape. 

But mostly it was the personality, and that they both had wanted a world where they could live in peace.

What Starscream hated the most was that he had allowed Dee to study his transformation cog, because now—

“Starscream?”

His processor halted in its thoughts, and Starscream remembered himself. He focused all his attention back on the younger mech - whose blue optics had lowered, as though the ground was suddenly interesting.

“What?” He couldn’t stop the irritation from seeping into his voice, though they both knew it was never real.

“Now that the war with the Quintessons is over… and if only because of you that I have the ability to transform and fly… I wanted…” The young mech finally met his optics, and a sense of dread made the spark in his chassis grow cold. “Forgive me, but I wish to leave Cybertron—”

“Have you lost your processor?!” His voice went shrill and before he knew it, his servos were gripping onto the younger mech’s shoulder pads, the metal creaking underneath his strength. “The Quintessons may not be attacking the surface of Cybertron, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t waiting in orbit!”

“You heard the decree they sent out. They won’t be coming back. Not after everything that Prime did.” Dee shuddered in his hold, though Starscream truly couldn’t tell if it was fear of the horrors they had witnessed the new Prime commit or if he was… scared of Starscream himself.

He loosened his grip, guilt already gnawing at his spark.

“We don’t know that.”

But Starscream did.

The death of the Thirteen Primes had incentivized the Quintessons into staying and forcing Sentinel into serving them. But with the return of a new Prime, one somehow worse than all thirteen combined, the Quintessons wouldn’t dare to come back. 

After all, they only forced Sentinel into serving their needs as penance for what the Thirteen Primes had done to them.

The Quintessons had never started the war, they weren’t about to stay for another one.

“Listen to me.” Starscream took his servos off of Dee’s shoulder, though he wanted nothing more to keep the younger mech close. “The Quintessons may have left, but they may still be lurking in Cybertronian airspace. You cannot leave Cybertron.”

“Starscream, with all due respect, I don’t believe that and I know you don’t either.”

At that comment, Starscream can’t help but sympathize with Prime. It was wrong, but Starscream did miss when the younger mech had been more agreeable and willing to go along with his words.

The confrontation with Sentinel had taught the young mech to be doubtful.

And that was good!

Starscream just… wished the younger didn’t show the same scrutiny towards his own authority.

“You want me to tell the truth? Then I will.” Starscream stood up from the medical berth, approaching the younger mech who held his ground.

There was no fear in Dee’s eyes, and Starscream was grateful for that. 

Even now, there was still some trust.

“The High Guard cannot afford to lose more mechs.”

Blue optics widened, surprise meeting the coldness that Starscream forced into his gaze.

Right now, he couldn’t be Dee’s friend.

He couldn’t even be a mentor.

Right now, if he wanted to ensure the younger mech stayed, then he needed to be a Commander.

“We have had our losses during our battle with the Quintessons, and while some Iaconians have defected to our side, we cannot afford to lose anymore.” He could feel guilt at using his dead comrades as his excuse, but Starscream could not let Dee leave. “You’re one of two medics right now. While we have new ones in training, we cannot lose you. Remember what it was like back when you were a miner, imagine what would have happened if they didn’t have a medic that could attend to you?”

It was a low blow, and from the horror in the younger mech’s optics, Starscream knew the question he had posed was not a hypothetical.

He let out a soft vent, reaching out to place a servo on the younger mech.

“The High Guard needs you.”

His grip tightened.

Megatronus would hate him for this.

But what had Dee said?

‘You deserve to live for yourself too.’

He had lost Megatronus cycles ago.

He was not about to lose his new ward too.

Starscream didn’t miss the flash of fear in Dee’s blue optics.

“I’ll stay.”

—

Optimus didn’t know loss until he had lost Dee.

That’s why when he had learned the bitterness of that feeling did he only recognize the look in that pathetic High Guard leader’s optics.

Loss.

Optimus knew the mech’s story.

The Thirteen Primes rarely kept records of their personal thoughts, but Optimus had been lucky enough to find one of Megatronus’ in the archives. Probably the only Prime who had the time since he was the weakest out of all of them.

There was a lot of information about that High Guard Commander in those records.

Perhaps, a bit too much.

The realization of the similar loss they both shared had only come when Optimus had accidentally come across Starscream and Dee on the surface.

He would usually send scouts, but Optimus had wanted to find the High Guard base for himself.

Optimus had hidden himself before the two mechs could spot him.

His spark had ached at the sight of Dee, but mostly he was confused because Dee looked different.

He wasn’t cogless for a start.

Optimus didn’t even have the time to wonder how that had happened - though his processor fleetingly recalled a conversation they had about replicating transformation technology - before his attention had been pulled towards Starscream.

Each time Dee’s optics would wander away from Starscream, the older mech would look at him with such affection that Optimus wanted to tear his helm from his frame.

But no, it was a different kind of affection.

It was one he had never really known. Cogless bots had grown up in the cold and dark of the mines, but Optimus recognized this affection from other mechs that had had the privilege of not being cogless.

It was the affection of a sire for their sparkling.

…He needed to save Dee.

[genericpuff]

When it comes to a drawing tablet do you recommend a beginner get one with a screen or one without specifically for webcomics?

So what you use the tablet for ultimately doesn't matter. Webcomics, illustration, animation, they're just different expressions of the same overall skillset. I've gone from using desk tablets to screen tablets and then back to desk tablets again. My current setup is a Huion Inspiroy Giano which is a very large desk tablet (no screen) with a Huion Kamvas 22 Plus as my display (screen).

(hi jim lol)

Now this obviously seems INCREDIBLY redundant but the reason why it's like that is because I used to use the Huion Kamvas 22 Plus as my screen tablet... until the pen input stopped working :)""" But it still works perfectly fine as a display! When I was shopping around for new drawing tablets though, I wasn't sure if I wanted to take the financial risk on another screen tablet. The Huions are a lot cheaper than the Wacom models which is great for people looking for inexpensive options, but if it meant I'd have to replace my screen tablets more often than my old Wacom Cintiq, then it wasn't gonna be worth it (but I didn't want to dump $2k on a tablet again LOL)

So I wound up getting a desk tablet instead! I had used Wacom desk tablets a lot prior to screens, and while it had been a few years, I re-adjusted in no time. The Huion Inspiroy Giano is, so far, a very reliable tablet. It just connects with a USB, no crazy 3-in-1 cables like the screen displays. It satisfies my need for a large tablet (seriously, if I can offer any piece of advice in regards to tablets, size does often matter because if a tablet is too small you'll be over-relying on your wrist for motions which isn't good for line integrity or your hand health!!!!) but it didn't break my budget like the Wacom tablets (and didn't feel as risky as buying another Kamvas 22 Plus after what happened the last time).

The only downside to it is that it has a bit of a rough surface to it which I find does a lot of initial wearing down on the nibs. I mean fr look at this thing-

And that will happen after only like, a few hours of use LOL that said, I've been using this nib for like 2 months now and it hasn't worn down more than that, so if you don't mind your nibs having a visible slant to them, it really doesn't cause any other issues.

That said, I've only had this tablet for about half a year now. I also used to sing praises for the Kamvas 22 Plus until it suddenly decided it wasn't going to work anymore without explanation, so... take my review of the Inspiroy Giano with grains of salt. At least though if this thing mysteriously stops working like the Kamvas did, I'll only have to pay $200-$300 to replace it vs. the Kamvas' $700+. It's still not a small amount of money, but it pays itself off quickly (and it's a lot cheaper compared to the equivalent Intuos Pro line from Wacom, which costs upwards of $500+ for a decently sized one).

Screen tablets are definitely helpful to have though, and I wouldn't object to returning to the screen displays once I can justify dropping money on one again. I still use a screen display on the go via my iPad Pro. But I don't think desk tablets should be taken for granted as a perfectly viable tool either, I think the initial learning curve tends to intimidate people a lot, but they're really quite comfortable to use once you adjust to the translation of desk tablet to monitor. You can also adjust the screen settings through the tablet driver anyways, which is what I did for my tablet because it was a little too big in spots where I had to reach really far to get to the color wheel tab on the right... so I just reduced the screen ratio to make up for it :)

I find once you learn how to use both - and learn your foundations in digital art - the desk tablet vs. screen tablet debate just boils down to personal preference rather than any real difference in what they can do for your art. I've drawn stuff like Rekindled on screen displays, desk tablets, iPads, etc. You might try a desk tablet and not like it after a while (though again, with the initial skill ceiling of adjusting to it, give it a few weeks of trying if you can, you will not immediately get used to it overnight!!!) and decide that screen tablets are more up your alley.

It really depends on what you're wanting to pay for a tablet. Though like with any new skillset that you're just getting into, I wouldn't recommend dropping money on the most expensive tool because ultimately the differences between expensive and cheap aren't going to be noticeable to you until you actually learn the skill itself, and it's not uncommon at all for people to pick up a new skill, shell out shitloads to learn it, and then get discouraged when it takes a while and makes the expense feel like a waste. Those higher end tablets are often more suited for professionals, not because they're "only meant for pros", but because pros will be able to fully utilize all their upper-skill features in a way a newbie who's still learning how to use a desk tablet won't.

Thankfully, it's easier than ever to get an affordable tablet that's easy to learn and Wacom is no longer the "only option", so I highly recommend looking into brands like Huion, XP-Pen, and Gaomon, as they offer very inexpensive tablets with a wide array of options from desk tablets to screen displays. Make sure you do your research on them, check out places like reddit for actual human reviews, note that every brand and tablet will come with their pros and cons, so it's really just about weighing out what you feel will work best for you and what you're trying to achieve!

And of course, if you're looking to draw comics specifically, look into Clip Studio Paint! It goes on sale at least twice a year, the PRO version is literally all you need to get started (EX comes with some helpful features like Teamwork, but like those fancy high end tablets, they won't necessarily be useful to someone who's just starting out). The PRO version comes with all the rulers, panel cutters, text tools, etc. that you need to get into making comics, it's a great piece of software !!!

I hope that helps!!! Best of luck!! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[vikenticomeshome]

Cyberchase Meal Toys (2/?)

So, I've had some good luck on eBay recently.

Yep, I now have 3 out of 4 of them, with a small asterisk next to Matt, as I am missing an accessory.

Per the promotional photo from the Carl's Jr website and some images of sealed Matts from Worthpoint, he had a little activity mat to roll around on. I don't have one. I would love to get one to scan at high-resolution and share.

I am also missing item #4, the two-sided puzzle, which can be seen in some Worthpoint images.

However, rather than focusing on what I don't have, let me take some shots of the three boys that I have.

Full-resolution images, safe from any tumble compression, are over here on the Internet Archive.

Here are some shots of "Digit Measuring Tape".

Here's some shots of "Movin' Matt".

Of course, we can tell that this is not the real Matt, as his sneakers don't have the white part on them.

Now, how about "Delete with a Twist"?

All of his images are stock images that they re-used in plenty of place, placed on different back-grounds. I have to say, I don't really get the twisting gimmick. You would think that swapping around the heads would be interesting, but the don't really line-up of fit well due to the characters being scaled up differently from each other.

That kind-of works...

This one doesn't really work for me.

Now, that's a spoiler for a certain episode.

Almost forgot about Digit's surprise tool.

And now, let's have quite possibly the first video of Matt movin'. Super Merry over here is providing a surface, but Matt's little wheels are hard plastic. Without rubber tires, he doesn't move very well.

And there we are. I'll keep a look-out for the double-sided puzzle and the activity sheet that came with Matt.

I have half a mind to find a place with a good 3D scanner and have these guys scanned so that people can make 3D models or even 3D print them. These guys are rare, and I want more people to be able to enjoy them.

[ofsunnydays-and-moonlitnights]

Of Playful Days and Silent Nights

Chapter 1: A Robot Teacher?

You look up from your HoloScreen and the work your grading as a knock sounds through your room.

“Come in?” It must be one of your fellow teachers here to bug you, you assume.

You stand immediately as the Headmaster clears his throat. He's always demands respect he doesn't deserve.

“How can I help you sir?”

“Would you mind working a little late tonight?”

“I could make that work sir, what extra work do you have in mind?”

“Something quite special. I have a solution for the nursery class.”

“Oh? A new teacher is joining us?” What does that have to do with you?

“Something like that. Just follow and you'll see.”

He leads you into the nursery class. Sat there half out of its box is a robot? A dark yellow robot that resembles the sun if it was personified and dressed as a court jester of long ago.

“Oh is this a new model? I've never seen one like this.” you ask but as you inspect it closer you notice the layer of dust covering it… now you feel silly.

“On the contrary, This is a vintage animatronic, A fazbear original.”

“Oh wow.” Fazbear rings a bell in your head but you’ve never really been big into the whole robot industry all you know are from the adverts on the Holovision if you’re being honest you weren’t all that keen on them. You know Mr. Moosifer is very into his vintage robots though so it must be a big deal.

“Someone bought a warehouse and found it full of these old animatronics. Would have bought them all if I had the budget, they were all far too expensive. I charged this one on the school account, He was a daycare attendant, apparently has a security mode as well, perfect since I almost had to hire a security guard since the graffiti incident last week, who even sells spray paint these days. Anyway, Two birds one stone, and it’ll be cheaper in the long run.” he looks so smug and full of himself. “At least I can say I technically own a vintage robot,” he laughs. “Wait till the others at the digital Golfing Alley hear about this.”

Oh finally he stopped talking...

“And what do you want my help with?”

“Clean it and reboot it would you. It might need a debrief or something. I don’t care how long it takes but I dismissed the substitute so have it ready for the morning class.” He hands you a very thicc manual book.

“Sure thing.” you smile, the most fake smile you could muster.

He leaves. You hate being such a suck up to that old man. The new powerplant isn’t the only reason Patrick left in a hurry.

It’s just you and the currently lifeless robot. You hope it’s lifeless, robots are lifeless right? It looks like it's looking at you... If its vintage could it be haunted?

You’ve heard of some people thinking robots have life, some going as far to advocate for robot equality and rights, others even pushing for robot marriage, that's just how far advanced AI is you suppose, either that or the worlds just that delusional, you can’t imagine an antique like this being so advanced, you doubt it can even keep up with the children nevermind teach them. Bur your experience with robots isn't extensive at all since the cheaper models you've met in the lower city aren't even advanced like at all, most are just glorified auto machinery.

You sigh, enough stalling...

"Better check this manual for how to clean this thing." You grumble.

You need this job, you remind yourself.

You pick up the book, it’s heavy. Under the title that reads ‘The Daycare Attendant’ sits a picture of two similar robots, one blue and starry the other a match to the one in front of you, it must be part of a series or something?

You flick through looking for cleaning instructions. Finally you find them.

‘Instructions on cleaning the Sun daycare attendant.’

That's got to be this one right? He’s definitely sun themed.

‘Use Fazbear SunShine gentle multi surface cleaner, or SunShine soap for tough dirt and grime. If these are not available please order them at Fazbear.org/shop/cleaning/dca using your staff assigned code. In the meantime these suitable substitutes should be used (in order of most suitable to least): SunShine bubble bath, SunShine hand soap, SunShine shampoo, SunShine laundry soap, SunShine dish soap, SunShine wood polish, any SleepyTime products suitable for the moon DCA, regular dish soap, or any Gentle multi surface cleaner. Caution avoid harsh chemicals to avoid damaging the paint or irritating the skin of any children coming into contact with the daycare attendant. None of the SunShine kitchen or toilet and bathroom lines of cleaning products are suitable for cleaning the DCA, Never use bleach. Always use warm water and a gentle cloth or sponge. Never use a scourer or brush to clean the DCA. Elbow grease is all you need.’

You're curious about this Fazbear sunshine cleaner so you Holo it on your Holowatch. The website doesn’t exist but you can find old posts about the nostalgia and recipes that give a similar smell. Oh the channel NostalgicScents has a few bottles of the laundry soap on sale. Oh ouch a million credits for a small bottle of 10 units is ridiculous. It is a vintage product so maybe you shouldn't be surprised.

What were the alternatives? Dish soap or multi surface cleaner…?

You’re pretty sure there's some dish soap in the cafeteria so you head in search of some. You find said soap and a washing up bowl, filling it with warm water and bringing it all the way back to the nursery classroom.

Re-thinking your plan, it might not be best to wash him on the colourful dinosaur carpet so you instead decide to drag it into the little kids bathrooms.

It's heavy and lanky, it bends in way too many places making it difficult to keep a grip. But you manage and lean it against the bath tub....

You face palm at the realisation that there's a bath in here to clean up any bad messes the kids get into, odd for a school you know but this was pre-K nursery. Toddlers had a way of making the worst messes.

You place your bowl in the bath and using the dish cloth start wiping the dust and grime off the robot. You wonder if it’ll even work, you hope it’s waterproof, the Manual told you to use soapy water so it can’t be wrong could it, did soap and water mean something different back then? You shake away your worries, It’s too late now, the worst that could happen is you get fired, that doesn't sound too bad about now. You would have left this town a long time ago if you had the savings, then again... you’d rather not be homeless.

You wipe away the grime on its face revealing a bright yellow. It looks friendly if not ever so slightly creepy. You move onto its arms, underneath the dust on its right arm is a series of numbers carved into the metal, it looks like your birthday? The month and day that is. What a weird coincidence it must be a serial number of some kind. You finish cleaning it up and turn back to the manual to know how to turn it on. You follow the instructions, taking a small piece of metal from the shoulder and using it to press the button through a hole in the back of its head just as the book had told you to.

Start up commencing. . .

Connecting to Faz network….

No Faz network detected…

Connecting to the local network…

Connected…

Estimated storage time 50 years…

Please wait as calibrations commence.

“Wow…” 50 years you think to yourself. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was vintage. It should teach history class, not the nursery. Maybe he’d know what fish were like, were there fish in the wild back then. You shrug, who knows.

Calibrations complete…

Rebooting…

Rebooting…

“S-starshine?” it stammered.

“Huh?” you wonder… Is that it’s Catchphrase?

Its voice was masculine but very chipper with the metallic robotic tone earlier robots were known for. It seems confused.

“Oh… oh um... Hello new friend!” its voice had a surprising amount of expression.

“Hi…” you hesitantly reply.

“You look familiar…” It taps its chin as it thinks? “Have you ever visited the daycare before?” it adjusts its position crossing its legs.

“Nope, not me.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry, new friend. Let me introduce myself, My name is Sun, you can call me Sunny if you like but never Sundrop.” It points its finger up. “That’s the line of sweets named after me, not the other way.” it smiles at you, it seems too warm for any robot you’ve ever met. “Would you like one?” it reaches into its pocket. “Oh I’m out, sorry I’ll have to go restock.” It stands about to walk around before pausing. It’s ever so tall, it must be at least 6ft tall.

“Yeah about that.”

“Where… Where am I?” Its tone was darker, almost worried. It steps out of the bathroom into the class.

“Welcome to Angel Valley Primary school?” you shrug.

“Where’s the daycare?” It clutches its hands in front of itself… anxiously? “Where’s the pizza plex?”

“Closed? I assume? You’ve been in storage for like 50 years.”

“50 years!?” It rubs its right arm. “That’s so long…” It drums its fingers on its teeth. “Do you work for fazbear entertainment? Are you opening up a new daycare? It's a little small, where are the play structures? I'm not ready for a new handler, when are the kids coming? Where will they have naptime? There's not even a stage…”

You watch as it paces and rambles, it almost looks like a panic attack or something. Surely a robot can’t have one of those right.

“Hey!” you call out. “Stop that.”

It stops and looks at you, practically shaking as it tries to stay still.

“There’s no daycare, or fazbear whatever. You have a new prerogative as a teacher at this school.”

It sits, closing its eyes and takes a breath? Maybe it's cooling its system or something. Does overheating make a robot jittery?

It starts counting.

“It has anxiety? of course it does.” That’s just your luck…. Wait... Unless it's a count down???

It puts it’s hands down. “Excuse me, that was very rude.” it's tone miffed but still polite, the kind of voice you’d give a parent if you were allowed to correct them.

Wait… you said that out loud….

“I’d rather not be called IT. Although as an animatronic we have no gender.” he says with air quotes. “We prefer the pronouns he/them. Thank you.”

Great, the robot has pronouns. How much more human can they get?

“Surely if you're from the future you should have more respect for robots by now, I’d expect robots would have become much more sophisticated in the last 50 years.” They turned away crossing their arms almost as if he was in a strop.

“Not the ones you see on the streets of the lower city. Most sophisticated robot I’ve seen is a store stacker.”

“What's one of those?” he tilts his head curiously.

“Exactly what it sounds like. It stocks shelves, if you're lucky you might meet one sophisticated enough that it can direct you to the soup aisle in the soup store.”

“Oh…”

“The rich in the upper city have shiny new robot assistants that are almost human-like. But your average Joe like me probably won’t ever get to see one.”

“I see…”

“But you should still be more polite.”

“You're right, I'm Sorry.”

“Thank you.” he sighs.

“Soooo uh… Are you calmer now?”

“I guess.” he sighs.

“Good because I need to show you around and let you know how to do your job before I can go home tonight.”

He stands up. His expression is now blank. “Alright.”

“So this is your class, you’ll be teaching the nursery or Pre-school class, most of your students are two to four years old, they do half days, so you’ll have group one come in during the morning and group two in the afternoon. We do learn by play here, It can’t be that different from daycare work. Basically entertain the kids. Make sure they don’t unalive themselves.”

He nods. “Where are the arts and craft supplies? Do we have paper and Oh, tell me we have glitter glue.” he looks over the colourful room, looking at the bookshelves and the toy boxes.

“No... Art supplies like that are pretty scarce, we keep them only for the fourth grade. We let the little kids play art games on they’re SlimNote jr though” you take an electronic notebook and show him.

He looks disappointed, dejected even.

“Plus it’s less to clean up.”

That doesn't seem to cheer him up.

“So no finger painting?”

“What’s that?”

“Oh my stars… you don’t know?” he drags his hands down his face.

“You’ll have to tell me another time we should move on.”

“Right.”

“So the room we were in earlier was the littles bathroom, it includes three big kid toilets and a handful of potties, there is a bath for emergencies but you have to have parents and kids consent for bathtime, most say sure others would rather let their kid sit in his own poop for the rest of the day, but anyway, moving on, your desk is there, the toys there, you can see it all.”

You gesture for him to follow as you lead him out of the room. You turn left to your class.

“This is my class.”

He looks around your space themed classroom and his eyes sparkle.

“Here I teach the first and second grade English, Maths and Space science.”

“Are these actually from space?” he asks as he looks over your wall of space trinkets, three shelves and a table are all adorned with rocks, crystals and other trinkets.

“Eeeek.” he jumps, “it moved.” He points to a tank.

“That’s our little alien specimen, We call him Greg, he’s a space slug.”

The slug-like creature covered in fluorescent colours munches on a piece of metal that you fed him earlier.

“And yes most of these came from space explorations, though some are only replicas, every school has a collection ours is pretty small if i’m being honest.”

“Wow.”

You can’t help but yawn, normally you’d be home by now having eaten your rations and gone to bed. “Can we finish here? You probably don’t need to know any more than this but you can wander around tonight unless you need to recharge or something. Just don’t touch anything. Oh and the headmaster said something about night guard or security or something. Can you do that or whatever.”

“Sure thing…” he rubs the back of his neck.

“Cool the kids will be in at 9 AM. I’ll see you at about half seven though.”

“Okie dokie.”

With that you collected your things and headed home.

This part of the city was almost quiet, the usual hustle and bustle reduced to about a dozen vehicles including your single drive, at least there wasn’t much traffic. Your little two door, one seater car was great, it was sort of old but reliable. You finally arrive at your building, it was one of many in your sector. In sector 10 they build as tall as they can and then crammed as many tiny apartments as possible in there. Your building was nice enough to spare a little room for an elevator you know of many who couldn't be bothered. Your apartment if you could call it that was on the 9th floor you couldn’t imagine how many steps that would be. Imagine bringing your food order up all that way Ooof. You make your way past dozens of other apartment doors until you arrive at yours. You unlock it with your finger print and step inside. It really wasn’t much but it was yours. You’re welcomed by your tiny shoe box of a kitchen, you head into the door to your left, your bathroom, or shower room you suppose, it’s far too small for a bath, you clean up after a hard day's work and heat your rations for dinner. It was supposed to taste like chicken soup but it beats you what chicken is supposed to taste like. You’ve heard it’s a rich man's delicacy, apparently it’s a bird, you can’t see how a bird would be very practical to eat. You've only ever seen wrens and crows though, apparently the really desperate even eat those, you suppose it would probably be better then rat. Your thoughts? You’ll stick to your lab grown rations.

Then it was time to snuggle into bed. You open the door to reveal a bed, that's almost all you can fit in the incredibly small bedroom. You managed to squeeze a bedside table and a lamp in the room, but it was quite the squeeze, at least you have a window. Many aren’t as lucky. You flop on the bed pulling the covers over you and turning your lamp off. Hopefully you’ll sleep soundly. You’d press X to doubt but you can dream harold.

Or not. Hours tick by and you turn over once again. There was no point in laying here bored so you instead scroll through the Holoweb.

Articles on extinct animals, news of a possible storm later in the month, more news on the rich getting richer, more robot rights protests in the upper city again. Oh a couple articles on soulmates interesting, are soulmates real? if you were immortal would your soulmate keep coming back? Can robots have soulmates?

Surely you need a soul to have a soulmate no? As interesting as those articles seem, you'd rather just keep scrolling. Is caffeine plus affecting sleep? That could be it but there is no way you could drop it now you’re in too deep.

You read article title after article title until eventually you tire your eyes out and finally drift to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read the rest of the fic here ⬇️

[river-taxbird]

The Four Horsemen of the Digital Apocalypse

Blockchain. Artificial Intelligence. Internet of Things. Big Data.

Do these terms sound familiar? You have probably been hearing some or all of them non stop for years. "They are the future. You don't want to be left behind, do you?"

While these topics, particularly crypto and AI, have been the subject of tech hype bubbles and inescapable on social media, there is actually something deeper and weirder going on if you scratch below the surface.

I am getting ready to apply for my PhD in financial technology, and in the academic business studies literature (Which is barely a science, but sometimes in academia you need to wade into the trash can.) any discussion of digital transformation or the process by which companies adopt IT seem to have a very specific idea about the future of technology, and it's always the same list, that list being, blockchain, AI, IoT, and Big Data. Sometimes the list changes with additions and substitutions, like the metaverse, advanced robotics, or gene editing, but there is this pervasive idea that the future of technology is fixed, and the list includes tech that goes from questionable to outright fraudulent, so where is this pervasive idea in the academic literature that has been bleeding into the wider culture coming from? What the hell is going on?

The answer is, it all comes from one guy. That guy is Klaus Schwab, the head of the World Economic Forum. Now there are a lot of conspiracies about the WEF and I don't really care about them, but the basic facts are it is a think tank that lobbies for sustainable capitalist agendas, and they famously hold a meeting every year where billionaires get together and talk about how bad they feel that they are destroying the planet and promise to do better. I am not here to pass judgement on the WEF. I don't buy into any of the conspiracies, there are plenty of real reasons to criticize them, and I am not going into that.

Basically, Schwab wrote a book titled the Fourth Industrial Revolution. In his model, the first three so-called industrial revolutions are:

1. The industrial revolution we all know about. Factories and mass production basically didn't exist before this. Using steam and water power allowed the transition from hand production to mass production, and accelerated the shift towards capitalism.

2. Electrification, allowing for light and machines for more efficient production lines. Phones for instant long distance communication. It allowed for much faster transfer of information and speed of production in factories.

3. Computing. The Space Age. Computing was introduced for industrial applications in the 50s, meaning previously problems that needed a specific machine engineered to solve them could now be solved in software by writing code, and certain problems would have been too big to solve without computing. Legend has it, Turing convinced the UK government to fund the building of the first computer by promising it could run chemical simulations to improve plastic production. Later, the introduction of home computing and the internet drastically affecting people's lives and their ability to access information.

That's fine, I will give him that. To me, they all represent changes in the means of production and the flow of information, but the Fourth Industrial revolution, Schwab argues, is how the technology of the 21st century is going to revolutionize business and capitalism, the way the first three did before. The technology in question being AI, Blockchain, IoT, and Big Data analytics. Buzzword, Buzzword, Buzzword.

The kicker though? Schwab based the Fourth Industrial revolution on a series of meetings he had, and did not construct it with any academic rigor or evidence. The meetings were with "numerous conversations I have had with business, government and civil society leaders, as well as technology pioneers and young people." (P.10 of the book) Despite apparently having two phds so presumably being capable of research, it seems like he just had a bunch of meetings where the techbros of the mid 2010s fed him a bunch of buzzwords, and got overly excited and wrote a book about it. And now, a generation of academics and researchers have uncritically taken that book as read, filled the business studies academic literature with the idea that these technologies are inevitably the future, and now that is permeating into the wider business ecosystem.

There are plenty of criticisms out there about the fourth industrial revolution as an idea, but I will just give the simplest one that I thought immediately as soon as I heard about the idea. How are any of the technologies listed in the fourth industrial revolution categorically different from computing? Are they actually changing the means of production and flow of information to a comparable degree to the previous revolutions, to such an extent as to be considered a new revolution entirely? The previous so called industrial revolutions were all huge paradigm shifts, and I do not see how a few new weird, questionable, and unreliable applications of computing count as a new paradigm shift.

What benefits will these new technologies actually bring? Who will they benefit? Do the researchers know? Does Schwab know? Does anyone know? I certainly don't, and despite reading a bunch of papers that are treating it as the inevitable future, I have not seen them offering any explanation.

There are plenty of other criticisms, and I found a nice summary from ICT Works here, it is a revolutionary view of history, an elite view of history, is based in great man theory, and most importantly, the fourth industrial revolution is a self fulfilling prophecy. One rich asshole wrote a book about some tech he got excited about, and now a generation are trying to build the world around it. The future is not fixed, we do not need to accept these technologies, and I have to believe a better technological world is possible instead of this capitalist infinite growth tech economy as big tech reckons with its midlife crisis, and how to make the internet sustainable as Apple, Google, Microsoft, Amazon, and Facebook, the most monopolistic and despotic tech companies in the world, are running out of new innovations and new markets to monopolize. The reason the big five are jumping on the fourth industrial revolution buzzwords as hard as they are is because they have run out of real, tangible innovations, and therefore run out of potential to grow.

[stone2stars]

Hey so I need some advice, I was drawing in class because I was bored and ended up drawing a flying dragon, i tried drawing the wings as I see them normally in cartoons or even in that series game of thrones, were dragons have 4 limbs and the wings with 3 "fingers" at the end, but thinking about it. It doesn't make sense how the wings support the huge body of a dragon up in the sky with thin wings like that. After that I ended up drawing what, for me, sounded like a solution. I don't know how to describe it so I'll show the picture of what I did ↓

You can see at the side i tried drawing my idea to attach the wings skin to the hips of the dragon while adding another "finger" to add support to the flying and keep the air suspending all the dragon's body not only its wings like I *believe* is what happens. Do you think I should make some research and testing with dragon shaped paper planes to test my theory? I'm not a scientist myself but this is one thing I'm enjoying and getting excited to try and test. What do you think about it?

-🦐 (yes I'm revealing my identity but it's for the sake of my love of dragons and my theory)

What do I think? I think it’s very impressive. 😗

You didn’t just doodle a dragon. You questioned the anatomical logic of fictional flight and proposed a working skeletal redesign. That’s textbook scientific thinking.

You’re right, by the way: most dragons in media have unrealistic flight mechanics. A four-limbed body plus two wings (making six limbs total) breaks vertebrate body plans—nothing on Earth evolved that way. And yes, wings that thin would absolutely collapse trying to support that much mass.

Your idea to anchor the wing membrane back to the hips? Smart. It distributes lift across more of the body, like how a bat’s wing connects along the leg. That creates a more surface-stable airfoil and reduces torque on just the chest and shoulder joints. Adding an extra "digit" in the wing design also mirrors pterosaur anatomy, which used elongated fingers for stability and glide control.

And yes: absolutely build dragon-shaped paper planes. That’s how real aeronautical engineers start—modeling lift and balance with paper, balsa wood, or foam. Experiment with tail angle, wing curve, and membrane stretch. See how far it flies. Then tweak it.

You don’t need a lab coat to think like a scientist. You just need to ask “What if?” and be curious enough to test it.

And you’re already doing that. So, great work not-so-anonymous Shrimpy!!

[betterbemeta]

I think AI Art exploits and degrades not just artists, but every single person who looks at it in some ways because 'how we look at art' is part of art itself.

This principle is super easy to experience as an artist. All you have to do is practice and reach a plateau where things you did before seem worse to you, that felt great at the time you made them. Your ability to see art changes as you make art, and as you view art.

It's not snobby to say that there is a low average level of 'seeing' art. There's also a low average level of seeing technical design, or seeing weather patterns, or seeing copy editing mistakes and that's why we have architects and engineers, meteorologists, and professional editors. I think a lot about this bit by Scott McCloud in Understanding Comics:

Like the point here is not that 'most people are superficial', but that the surface of art is what most people are familiar with. And it is this basic familiarity that I believe AI Art exploits to fake integrity, something that even the most well-known laughably 'bad art' still technically has.

Like, laugh all you want but effort went into the surface of this art such that it appeared 'okay' to the one who made it, and to those who maybe aren't paying attention or see that its colored and shaded first, the anatomy last. It relies sort of on your familiarity with 'what art looks like' to accept it, but not completely. Someone did work to try and earn your acceptance even if, uh, it's not very good in some ways.

But AI Art relies fully on how unfamiliar you are with art. Let's call this principle 'glamour'.

At first 'the glamour' is unconvincing: this is during the AI's training. But the first 'pass' is the threshold where information builds up about how to reproduce a minimally acceptable image. This is where the glamour is set: the minimum accuracy to convince a human being to fill in its gaps. To basically capture their imagination. From there, front-end use of the machine learning model is released for general users, and it is those users who then select out of many outputs which glamour fools them most. As the other half of this system, the hidden decision-maker, humans are also 'learning' familiarity with the glamour: comparing it to not just our surface knowledge but to itself. We have left reality.

A good example of this can be seen in AI-generated pictures of fiber crafts. It's possible that traditional or digital artist might not be perfect with their drawing or perspective or coloring etc. or may stylistically push the boundaries of perspective or form on purpose. But for a knit, crocheted, or sewn piece a final product often can't exist without its craft having physical integrity:

Aside from the issues that are obvious (fake tilt shift photography with no consistent field of blur, a spaghetti yarn ball, unknown stitch on the vest, no comprehensible seam between the arm and the body, etc.) here are some things that stick out to me to knowing even a little about knitting,

The fake stockinette on the helmet is confused about whether it is completed horizontally or vertically: vertical on the headband (many hats terminate this way, so there are plenty of images to sample) but indecisive when it has to become a round hat shape.

The number of rows on the arms is inconsistent, decreasing strangely where a k2tog would never be.

There is no consistent way the hands make sense, if they are 'mittens' or if the stockinette ridges become 'fingers'.

We can't see how the bottom of the foot was finished: the left foot either began or was decreased to meet at a central point but it doesn't match the right foot and it's not clear how either foot keeps it shape.

Beyond the plagiarism of the images that went into generating AI outputs, your diminishing time to learn about/be exposed to 'things' (beyond just 'art,' anything that isn't essential to your survival) will become increasingly exploited in the future. If left unchecked, images like these will represent not only novelties or etsy scams but a large amount of people's exposure to 'things' in general. Which then leads to something like AI inbreeding (AI generating based on AI), except like... with you.

When people are more familiar with a glamour than 'the real thing', even superficially.

Exploitation of this type isn't even a new thing. It's just that AI can speed it up or extend it to new spheres. Anyone can see a physical table and think 'this table is crap' if it's poor quality because of how much we use tables and our knowledge of what tables are and should do. But I think the blog McMansion Hell actually illustrates a real, practical situation where the familiarity level with a craft (architecture) is low and standards lower to meet it. These hulks were certainly built to invoke 'glamour', but when closely inspected, they have the design equivalent of 12 fingers or bra straps bleeding into someone's skin.

Another easy example might be the excessive 'glamour' that surrounds selling cars in the USA. Very few people will buy enough cars to become more than superficially familiar with them and the amount of people who are car-related professionals is negligible next to the number of people who require a car.

Both cars and houses are expensive purchases that are made relatively infrequently, which is why their brokers and dealers can bet against a customer's average level of knowledge. But soon, many more things may become like buying houses or cars: obscured by glamour.

AI Art relies on you to be a sucker, just like how a sketchy sales rep depends on you to be a sucker. Except even worse than the sales rep, your brain is expected to not just be dumb and inexperienced, but also to get actively dumber over time from doing all the work too.