#X-Particles

[bebber]

Render test

[dinnickhowellslikes]

An experiment with X-Particles in Cinema 4D, and rendered with Redshift - working with a project file set up from the talented Toros Kose

[cheralith]

feat. karasu, otoya, yukimiya || cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, roommates au, alcohol mention, aged-up characters

roommates!tabieitaken act as guard dogs when you and them are out together as a group.

they especially work well since they’re all former college athletes who have maintained their structure since graduating rather well even with their worklife and are rather tall. karasu's got a naturally broad stature, yukimiya is clearly toned, and otoya's got this insane sleeper build hidden beneath all those layers of baggy clothing and weird t-shirts.

you're a pretty face, so all those glances that strangers give you go very much noticed by your roommates and if they suspect one person enough, best believe they're caging you in between the three of them.

you don't go out often to them, but clubs can especially be tricky. they have this agreement that at least one of them has to keep an eye at you so no creeps prey on you. so when yukimiya, who was in charge this hour, slips away to the bathroom for a short second and sees some strange slob trying to coax you to give you your number, he slides an arm around your waist sneakily from behind.

"sorry love, is this guy bothering you?" he asks silkily, polite smile on his lips.

you gape a little at yukimiya's sudden appearance, grateful. "ah, yukki!" thank god!

"who the hell are you?" the stranger demands, his words slurring between boozed breath.

yukimiya's eye twitches at his rudeness, but his smile lingers.

"i'm her boyf—"

"whaddya get there, kenyu?" karasu interrupts, shuffling himself into the corner as well and claps a hand on yukimiya's shoulder to the latter's disdain.

otoya trails behind shortly after, chin resting lazily between the divot of your collar with a beer bottle in hand the other gripping on the other side of your arm.

"woah there, who's the short stuff?" otoya’s always been one to insult someone straight to their face and he noticeably juts his finger to the stranger who stands at least half a head shorter than your roommates. "friend of yours, babes?"

you shake your head apprehensively, trying to silently indicate you didn't know this guy and didn't know how to get rid of him to karasu with panicked eyes, who picks up your que like a hawk.

"sorry man, ya won't mind if we borrow her for a bit, yeah?" karasu asks with a tight smile. the man shoots them an irritated look, but with the alcohol still deposited in his veins and making his reactions delayed, he can't come up with any words to excuse himself, especially not when you have three rather large and tall men bodyguarding you and watching his every move.

karasu grins, sharp teeth baring to the man. "great! we'll be takin' her then."

otoya's narrowed eyes go to eye the man up and down again, a mirthless chuckle under his breath. "see you later, shortcake."

yukimiya's grip on your waist remains as karasu drags the three of you away and back to the floor, shooting a warning glare to him from his glasses despite the sweet smile on his lips. "have a nice evening, sir."

a/n: gonna try my absolute best to push out otoya’s chapter by the end of this week :]

[lin-sterling]

I swear every shot in this set is gay

[wishchip106]

missing old cherik BAD rn gawddamn…

literally THE tragic gay grandpas

guhh i don’t see enough about them 🙁 WHERE’S THE OLD CHERIK APPRECIATION???!!!

[kaptorka-prod]

12/06 (12:00 PM EST / 9:00 AM PST), my CG short film inspired by one of Higgs's letters will have premiere on YouTube. I uploaded it in full HD, but I’m not sure how quickly the platform will process it (sometimes it takes up to a week) 😥I’ll upload a slightly lower-quality version to other platforms a bit later.

The footage is only 3 minutes long, but a lot of effort went into it—from ripping assets and reworking rigs/clothing to directing and lighting art as well. I worked on it entirely by myself during my free days and hours since the summer. If it weren’t for regular crunches on text-related projects and lack of like-minded collaborators for 3D work stuff, I could’ve finished it sooner and with fewer technical flaws, like missing collision simulations or outdated lip-sync. Let’s just chalk it up to me being an old-timer, okay?😂👴

Link to the video: https://youtu.be/4gKQ6nAx3uE

[stone-cold-groove]

Your summer reading list: A Guide to Radiation Protection. J. Craig Robertson - 1971.

[tinytennisskirt]

The Thrash Particle

loosely based on the song 'The Thrash Particle' by modern baseball (don't let the song deter you! It's not a mandatory listen)

summary: art has loved you forever. but even in loving you first, patrick was first to date you. you're now single and still friends with both boys, but art's feelings never really left, even when patrick's did. Art loves you and you're all he wants, but he can't have you.

warnings: drinking, yearning, some fluff, mostly angst, jealousy, tiny hint of puppy!art MWAH

Art couldn’t do it. He couldn’t watch Patrick’s game. Not when his serves used to be dedicated to you. Not when you grinned wide, perfect lips parting for perfect teeth on a perfect day. The sun was setting as Patrick continued to play. The crowd was loud and you were beside him, but he couldn’t do it. Art wondered if he could play sick and pretend he felt better for the party later. 

He didn’t want to leave you there in the stands but the way you cheered for him felt like kicks to the ribs. He usually never had an issue with it, he was over it, past it, beyond it. So you dated Patrick, and that was fine, you were his, and now you were nobody’s and there were no hard feelings. They didn’t exist and maybe that was the issue. Like a ball hits a racket, impact, he remembered sitting back in his dorm at MRTA and watching you kiss him, too high to mind being the third wheel. You kissed Patrick a lot then and it was hard to forget how you did so. Art wished it was him then the same way he still wished it was him in general. 

The problem became Stanford. The distance with Patrick on tour. And it ended mid-summer and apparently, it was mutual but the thing about a mutual breakup is that it didn’t crash and burn into nothing. It was still something and you were still friends and that was fine, on a normal day Art was completely fine with that. You three had always been friends. You just liked Patrick enough to date him and no matter what Art felt, he had to swallow that for the sake of his best friend. There was nothing he could have done back in high school and now you were single, there was still nothing he could do without ruining one friendship or the other. 

“My mom is calling,” Art lied, speaking over the roar of the crowd. Your eyes widened and you nodded, smiling at him too. “I’ll see you back at my dorm?” You shot him a double thumbs up and Art just nodded in return, getting up and leaving, the sun setting behind him, walking toward the night. He took out his phone as if his mom calling was something real and he stuffed it right back into his pocket, sitting at the base of a nearby tree. The dusk was warm and a cool breeze blew his curls around. 

He found himself fidgeting with his watch, twisting it around his wrist, thinking about you and only you. Fuck, the conflict of his feelings. The ones he used to feel so freely. Grade ten, liking you first, knowing you were perfect from the first time he saw you play, spinning in a circle when you won that game, jumping up and down, coming to find him in the stands the second you could. You’d been his friend before that moment. After that, you were everything. And it stayed that way throughout that year. You, Patrick, Art, best friends, always hanging out. Art would flirt, you flirted back but he never knew how genuine it was.

 He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t want to ruin anything by doing so. So at first, he stuck it out. Shrugged it off, and lived his life knowing he wanted to date you more than anything- pay for your meals and pick you up pretty necklaces from consignment stores and go to movies and have it all. Pretended like he didn’t think about it all the time. He knew it would fuck up your relationship with Patrick if he told you- if he dated you. He would wait it out for the perfect time. But Patrick didn’t extend the same courtesy. It was you and Patrick, over the summer between eleventh and twelfth and it was the first day of school, finding out you were dating. And had been for a month. Because you worked the same goddamn summer job and got to talking more seriously. So serving ice cream between tennis matches turned into something that excluded Art. And it just about crushed him then. 

It did get easier. You and Patrick had him around a lot, assuming that he didn’t mind that you were together. Hands intertwined, Patrick’s hands on your hips, telling Art about the first time you’d… It had ups and downs, he was never truly okay with it. He never truly got rid of the jealous ache in his chest, the ache he had for you, his best friend’s girlfriend. Because he had liked you first, you, young and pretty and spinning. Sparkly lip gloss and rhinestones on your jeans and knit sweaters with cats on them sometimes. The way you only drink tea from November 12th- December 31st because of something your aunt said when you were nine. How you tuck your hair behind your ears when you receive a compliment, how you fidget with your lower lip the same way he does, how you’ve never said no to coffee in all the years he’s known you. He liked you first and he watched you kiss his best friend and it did get easier, but never completely. How could it?

And when you dated it his feelings couldn’t just disappear. That wasn’t him, he couldn’t just turn that off, not when he’d felt this way for so long. So he stopped flirting for what he had control over- sometimes it would slip but you didn’t really seem to mind. And you didn’t seem to bring it up to Patrick and Art wasn’t a homewrecker, so he wouldn’t ruin anything intentionally but some part of him hoped it would end. He hated hoping for that, but what else could he do when Patrick swung around the corner while you two were watching tv and offered to grab you a cup of tea? It was all the hotel room had, but it was November 22nd. You said ‘no thank you’ with that perfect smile, fidgeting with your lower lip. 

And it was a mutual ending and that was the problem. Nothing crashed and burned, it was all still very much existing in the past and you were friends, you were all still friends. And Art still fucking wanted you. It had been worse- the wanting- because you and Art were at Stanford together, and when things were boring, you were in his dorm room laying upside down on his bed talking about everything and nothing and you were close to him. Closer than you’d been allowed when you were with Patrick just for the sake of not coming off the wrong way. You were single and you were beautiful and every sentence spoken in the lamplight of his dorm room on a quiet, intimate Friday night threatened to spill his every secret. But no matter how much he continued to want you, he couldn’t have you. It was wrong to date your best friend’s ex.

Fuck. You were his every thought, all the time. 

He remembered when you were both younger and you’d kissed him on the cheek. Not just a peck either, you’d mushed your face into his cheek, your hand on his other cheek for leverage just because he remembered your birthday. Out of everyone who had forgotten, he remembered and he gave you some stupid gift, a pink tennis ball and you loved it so much because it was the only thing you’d gotten. Even Patrick forgot your fifteenth. It was okay, though. Just made you appreciate him more. And then there was the first time you hugged him, really hugged him, arms around the neck when he won a game. You smelled so sweet. And then there were those casual touches he had never forgotten, too many to count, even now, your hand over his when you spoke or on his knee, or fixing his hair… It never ended. And with you around, it never would. But he wasn’t supposed to feel the way he was feeling for you. It was wrong. 

Art met you back at his dorm. Patrick wasn’t there yet. You’d changed, you were in a pretty black skirt and a pale blue tank top and you looked… too good. You had clipped some of your hair up with little clips Art knew you kept from when you were a kid and you were just so beautiful it hurt to look at you. 

“Okay, so I have shooters and you have vodka and Patrick has mixers.” You worked out the alcohol situation for the party. “Plus I have vodka too, but don’t tell Patrick I’m holding out on him.” You tossed Art the little vodka bottle with enough for two. It was already half-gone and Art gladly drank the rest straight. “No mixer?” 

“No mixer,” he repeated. “How did the rest of Patrick’s game go?” 

“Pretty boring.” You replied. “He keeps trying to pull that one trick shot and fails, so he plays it off. It was just a lot of that for the rest of the game, he looked like he was practicing.” A smile crept up your lips, teasing. “I told him in passing that I would fall in love on the spot if I ever saw that trick in real life and not just on tv and he made it his goal. Back before we were-” you coughed. “But he started trying to master it and hasn’t stopped.” 

“That’s the one with the double fake-out and the back… underhand thing with the twist?” 

“Yeah! That one. Whatever it’s called. He looked dumb doing it, honestly. It involved a lot of twirling to play it off.” You added. Art chuckled, tossing the bottle into the recycling from across the room. “It’s the move from that movie we watched the day we met. You and me. The stupid low-budget tennis underdog movie, you remember?” 

Art laughed, remembering. He didn’t remember much about the day he met you. Not where or even when. but he remembered that movie and the fact he made friends with the girl who sat down with him to watch it on the boxy common room TV because that’s all the stupid VHS would play. Tennis movies. Apparently some MRTA alumnus had directed it. With some movie magic that move that Patrick had been trying to do was born. It probably wasn’t even possible. “I remember. That was the one with the guy whose cat choked on the tennis ball.” 

“Halloween costume idea number one,” you remarked, laughing. It was stupid. Things were always stupid with Art, from the very beginning. “Jesus, the budget was low but they still managed that one shot, that one move.” 

“He’s still trying.” 

“He’s never going to get it.” 

“You hoping that he doesn’t so you don’t have to fall in love with him?” Art asked. Mostly as a joke, but the small silence that came after was uncomfortable. It was only a few seconds. Your eyes met Art’s and you shook your head no, whatever that meant. “I’m sorry.” Even Art couldn’t escape reminding himself and you of things. 

“Why? It’s funny,” your smile broke through the clouds. “I’m confident in him never getting it. So I confidently say I will, in fact, belong to the first person who pulls that move in my sight.” 

“A gamble. What if it’s some old ugly guy?” Art held up his hands like the hands of a monster. Your grin was the most beautiful thing in the fucking world and it was almost heartwrenching to not be able to do something about it. 

You shrugged, just as Patrick knocked on the door. “I’ll just have to be his controversially young girlfriend then. And then marry him and take his money and make my own awful tennis movie.” 

Art smiled, getting the door. He let the conversation slip to something new as Patrick walked in with the mixers. Classic orange soda and for you, your favourite, cherry coke. At least Patrick remembered some things. The three of you talked about the game and you didn’t mention anything about him and his stupid attempts. There were certain things kept between the two of you that almost made up for certain other things.

Around nine, the three of you headed across and just off campus to where the party was taking place. It was a wonder how it hadn’t been shut down yet with the music audible from a street over. You were excited to go and urged the boys to pick up their pace. Art just smiled, trying to, but Patrick was still a little beat from the game earlier, so he wanted to go slow. Art kept pace with you just a few steps ahead. 

“He’s wearing his shirt backward,” you whispered to Art, giggling. 

Art looked behind him, laughing quietly. “Patrick?” 

“Yeah?”

“Your shirt is on backward, bud,” Art chuckled. Patrick looked down and immediately started turning it around. He looked back at you, continuing to giggle. You were so beautiful in the yellow of the streetlights. Art was glad that he wasn’t a bad-decision drunk so he didn’t have to worry too much about anything, taking another swig of the vodka as they neared the house. You snatched the bottle back and copied him, tossing the bottle back to Patrick, who had fixed his shirt now. 

You grabbed Art’s wrist gently, guiding him. You reached back for Patrick’s but he was a bit too far. Your hand then slid down his wrist and into his own hand. He pretended it was nothing, like his heart didn’t skip. “We’ll go around back so we don’t have to pay. One of my girl friends is dating one of the guys throwing the party so they know me. Just come with me. I promise it’s not too bad once you’re in there for a while.” Your fingers went so far as to interlock with Art’s. Art almost pulled his hand away just for the sake of Patrick, but you were only pulling him along, nothing crazy. He smiled, your hand was so soft for a tennis player. He was sure his hands were calloused… “You’re so slowww, come on, come on.” You urged both boys, Art’s hand in your own still, leading them up and around to the doorway. 

You stopped at the door and you pulled Art almost into you when you did. He had to brace his hand out on the doorframe above you to keep from crashing into you. You laughed at him and he just pressed his lips into a straight line. You didn’t even let go of his hand. Seemed the pre-gaming was pretty decent. Art didn’t let go either. Patrick already pushed his way into the party. You just stood at the door, still holding Art’s hand. “I promise it’s better inside.” 

Art laughed, “It’s you who won’t go inside.” 

“Pretty sure it’s you.” You replied, teasing little smile. Pretty. “I’m just. Waiting.” 

“For your friends?” 

He didn’t get an answer. He was only met with your hand slipping out of his as your friends came and grabbed you away, your laughter absorbed by the loud music. You were out of it, it was okay. Art just went to go find Patrick, grabbing the secondary bottle of vodka back from him, taking another swig, no mixer. And Patrick cheered him on. There wasn’t anything wrong with drinking heavily at a party like this. 

You were around, you passed Art a few times, asking if he was okay. You couldn’t hear his response, so you leaned in, asking him to speak a little louder. He told you was okay, noting your handle gently on his upper arm, how good you smelled in this pit of strong perfume and bad cologne mixed with the smell of weed and alcohol. You smiled and your palm grazed his cheek as you went separate ways again, you back to your friends and Art back to find Patrick. 

He couldn’t tell how drunk you were. You seemed about your wits when you found Art again. You were worried about how much he had, asking Patrick how much of the bottle Art consumed but failing to find out truthfully. Art would admit he was maybe just a little bit drunk. Just a little. The lights stretched and he could feel static in his veins but he hadn’t had enough to be drunk drunk. But he was very drunk. 

Art found Patrick, leaning against the wall by the stairs. He was talking to some blonde, Art was too out of it to care. “Do you get jealous watching Y/N talk to other guys?” He asked, filter off. Sober thoughts, drunk words. 

Patrick, also drunk, smiled. “Do I get jealous about the guys Y/N is talking to?” He gestured to the girl he was just talking to. “No, I don’t care. Why, is he ugly?” 

Art laughed, looking the other way. He didn’t see you with any guys, he only saw you with your girl friends. He wasn’t even sure what possessed him to ask the question, but Patrick didn’t care and that was the answer. “I wouldn’t know,” Art said. “Do you still think about her?” 

Patrick shoved Art playfully, “Huh?”

“I’m drunk I don’t know, man,” Art pressed his hand to his head. “I mean I’ve known her forever so it’s weird all around. I think about her.” 

Patrick leaned into Art, their faces close. He grinned at Art. “Yeah? What do you think about?”

“You and her.” He replied, bad grammar. He couldn’t feel much at all other than the buzz that warmed his skin in the already-hot house. “It’s weird seeing her with anyone who isn’t you. I mean, that was just a year and a half ago, right?” 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I think about her in a friend way. I mean, she’s hot but I don’t want her anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.” Patrick was a little less drunk than Art. 

Art groaned, “I don’t even know what I’m asking, I’m-“ he leaned against the wall but the wall was a bit further than he thought. Patrick grabbed his upper arm to save him from crashing into that very wall and the boys just laughed at how drunk Art was. The small, weird conversation would haunt Art later when he was sober. For now, it was just really funny. And Art had more to drink from a random girl who poured some of her Smirnoff right into his mouth and he got a shot from another guy with a bong. He was so far gone. So drunk. He even smoked a little weed just for fun. You passed Art again, grabbing his arm so he wouldn’t walk past without noticing. 

“You are so so drunk,” you said, cupping Art’s face in your hands. He grinned wide, eyes shut, letting you. Your hands were soft and a little cold, which was refreshing. “You’re okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He replied, not even opening his eyes. Your thumb grazed over the left side of his cheek. He just hummed, which you couldn’t hear over the music. You were concerned for your friend who was usually the responsible one who drank the least just to make sure Patrick’s dumb ass got home okay. Art was a weed guy, Patrick was the alcohol guy. 

You smiled, hands leaving his face, sliding down both of his arms. “Let’s get some air, okay?” 

“Okay,” He replied with the will of a puppy training to be a good dog. He let you lead him to the back door and you helped him down the stairs with the help of one of the guys smoking on the back step. He was really fucking drunk. The backyard was mostly dark aside from the orangey light on the side of the house. He rubbed his eye as you helped him sit down on the swing bench at the edge of the lawn. It was pretty trippy for him to sit on a moving bench, but he was vaguely aware of your hand on his back and his shoulder.

You were sat on your knees, your feet beneath you and the way you braced him was a little bit hug-like, your one arm around him, hand running slowly up and down his back in a soothing manner. “We did not have enough with us to get this drunk,” you laughed gently. He just smiled. Even under the influence, he was a little scared to say something he’d regret when sober. “You promise you’re okay?” Your voice felt like velvet. He could feel it. It was a weird drunk superpower. 

“I’m okay, just had a lottt of vodka. And other stuff.” He smiled, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to look at you, you were so close that if he did, your faces would be too close. “I feel great.” 

“You don’t look great,” you said, tilting his head to face yours with a simple touch of your finger to the side of his jaw opposite you. He was putty in your hands, you could do whatever you wanted and he would let you. It wasn’t your intention, though he wished it was.  “Is something going on? I want to know. You never drink this much and I know your mom didn’t call earlier. Your stupid ringtone didn’t go off.” You knew this might not be the time to get an intelligent answer, but it might be that. Art’s face was so close to yours he could see every detail and speck of colour in your eyes. Even in the dim. 

“What was the question?” He grinned. You just laughed quietly, biting your lip. He was staring at your lips, he knew that. “I’m sorry…” 

“You have had too much. Way way way too much. I think we should get you home. Or even to my dorm. My dorm is closer.” 

Art tilted his head just a bit, soft smile on his lips. “I was thinking about the movie. The tennis one.” 

“Art…” you hushed, your face still close to Art’s. It was no wonder you dated Patrick, you had the same habit of talking way too close to someone’s face. “What about the movie?” 

“I think Patrick is gonna figure out the move.” He said, no meaning behind it. But somehow the words set up the perfect vision of the day he met you. Sitting on the floor. Only a few years ago but you were so cute then and you were so gorgeous now. 

“Really?” 

“Probably. With his luck.” 

“His luck?” 

Art just shook his head, he barely even understood himself. “Fuck, I think maybe I did drink too much.” 

“Yeah?” You smiled, continuing to try and ground him a little more. You’d signaled to one of the guys to grab you a bottle of water and you handed it to Art when you received it. “Can you sit here while I go grab Patrick?” You even unscrewed the cap from the bottle for him. He nodded and you gently pat his thigh, getting up in your little skirt to go find Patrick. He was glad you weren’t there because how would drunk Art hide his stupid fucking boner? 

You slipped into the house again and Art sat there thinking about you. Had he admitted to something yet? He wondered through the alcohol. Maybe he did and he just didn’t remember it already and maybe he wouldn’t remember it again. He hoped he wouldn’t. He drank the water in small sips, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees, shirt sleeves rolled up. He hated that you were off limits. He hated that he wanted you so fucking badly. He hated that in his head he could admit he was probably in love with you. How could he not be? 

Patrick came outside and sat on the swing next to Art. “Y/N is saying goodbye to her friends before we go.” 

“I need a babysitter,” Art chuckled, but the laugh died out. “I’m so fucked.” 

“You’re drunk, that’s what. I don’t know why she’s all worked up about it, she’s drunk too.” 

Patrick still didn’t understand you. Art found that a little funny. She wasn’t worked up, she was worried. And there was more to the story than Patrick could ever know. “It’s fine.” Art managed. 

“How long were you out here?” Patrick asked. 

“Fuck, I have no idea.” 

“Just you?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

Patrick was quiet, but he was smiling. “Uh huh… I know you like her, Art.” 

“I probably love her but it’s all fucked.” Art admit. Patrick’s smile didn’t waver one bit. He already knew it, there wasn’t any denying, he knew Art. And he knew Art loved you. It was easy to love you, your personality, the way you look. “I’m sorry, that is…” 

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re a good guy and it’s hard not to love her. I mean, I never could, not really.” Patrick was also drunk, there was space to be honest. Art just shut his eyes and took another swig of water. “She’s amazing.” 

“She is.” 

“And you’ve loved her forever.” 

“I think so,” Art replied. “Remember watching that tennis movie? The really shitty one? I watched that movie with her before you watched it with her. She watched it with me, then showed it to you.” 

Patrick nodded. He knew. 

And you hopped down the steps and back to the boys, asking if they were ready to go and Art was as ready as he could be. Both boys had confessed to something and now the real stuff was out of the way, you and Patrick tried to help Art walk back to your dorm. The stairs were harder than they looked. And your dorm room was small, but you let Art have the bed. He laid on his side with your trash can next to the bed in case he needed it. You made him drink another cup of water while you changed into your pajamas in the bathroom. Patrick made you a makeshift bed on the floor and you thanked him for everything, bidding him goodnight. Art was too out of it to properly say anything other than ‘goodnight, Pat’.  

Patrick went back to Art’s dorm to sleep for the night. You smiled, looking at Art on top of your purple sheets. He was still laying on his side, fidgeting with his hands. He was feeling just a little less drunk, but still drunk. You put your hands on your hips and he raised his head to look over at you. 

“Are you feeling better?” 

“Yeah,” he replied. 

“Enough to answer my question?” 

“Hm?” Art propped himself up on his elbow as you came to sit on the edge of the bed. You in your pajama shorts and your tank top, no bra. He did what he could not to look. But his focused stayed on you, perfect, concerned. He loved that you cared so much. 

You kept your warm smile on, “Earlier today, the game. You just upped and left and you weren’t being called. And then, maybe I’m reading into it, but you don’t usually drink that much… I just thought maybe something was up.” 

Art heard all of your words this time, noting the way your eyebrows furrowed. “No. Nothing, just two events.” He shrugged. He lied to you, which he hating doing because you were beautiful and he just never wanted to lie to you. But he had to because telling you the truth would be wrong. And would create a wreckage he wasn’t sure he would be able to clean up alone. 

“Art, I love you, but I’m not stupid.” You replied. “What’s wrong?” 

If he had words lined up to say, they were gone when you said what you said. He knew the context, but you did love him, regardless of platonic or not. As much as he wished it was different, it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. He looked at you and he wanted you more than anything. He was young, but he’d known his future was supposed to be you. He wondered if he belonged in yours the way he knew you belonged in his. He looked at you, met your eyes, his mouth twisting to the side. He looked at you, wondering how it was possible to need you so badly, how Patrick had you and how he never could. It was unspoken. 

His heart ached. He felt it even through the buzz. His heart physically hurt looking at you. And you just looked back, your hand outstretching to take his. “Okay.” You said, smile still there. “You promise that whatever it is, it’s fine?”

The silence hung for another moment. “Yeah.” Art lied, feeling his chest squeeze just a bit. He wanted the feeling to pass again, he wanted this to be easier. He wanted you more than anything. You were all he needed, he knew there was nothing he needed more, he would give anything to be with you the way he wanted. Anything. Everything. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, I promise it’s okay. I was just worried. And I’m here if you want to talk or tell me… anything.” You grinned and Art grinned back, it was all he could do when you squeezed his hand. “I care.” 

“I know.” 

“Good. You should.” You said. “But you should finish your water and go to sleep. I’m scared for your hangover tomorrow.” 

“Me too.” He said, his chest constricting so much he swore he couldn’t breathe. You turned out the lamp, but the purple night light in the corner cast just enough light. Art’s hand was cold without yours. You got into your makeshift bed and said goodnight to him. 

The next few days Art took to himself. Said he was sick, then he said he had practice. He had a game in just a few days so he made himself busy because that night almost broke him. He needed to remember his place. He needed to remember that he couldn’t have you for a reason. Both him and Patrick forgot about their confessions, their understanding, lost to a night of drinking. You missed him, but you and Patrick understood. Saw him once that week in the cafeteria for lunch. 

And then there was that game. You made plans for afterwards, just you and him because Patrick had to get back on the road half-way through the game. He apologized, patting Art on the back before the game. You rolled Art’s sleeves up, folding them over instead of letting him just push them up.  “Good luck.” You said. And you smiled that winning smile. 

The game began and things kicked off pretty strong for Art. He always played better when you were around, it was just how things went. He played well- kicking the other guy’s ass. He could hear you and Patrick cheering, swearing and not meaning to. It was funny. And then he let it get to him after a week of trying to cleanse himself. It was you and Patrick. You and him, it would always be you and him because he never even got the chance and it wasn’t like he could still be jealous. His chest tightened and he missed the ball. And then it happened again and again and he tried to focus on you. Gorgeous, flawed but still perfect. Kind, caring, intuitive. You with your quirks and favourites and the things he loved about you, but he couldn’t say. He tried to save the game, but it was up and down. 

You watched him, not taking your eyes off the game, even when Patrick pat you on the shoulder and said goodbye. You said it, but Patrick, occupied with his phone didn’t notice that you didn’t look at him. You’d said proper goodbyes before anyways, it wasn’t a big deal. You sighed, watching him miss another ball. This was a game that would help him qualify for so much more… his backhand was off and he just seemed like he wasn’t there. There was only so much time left, so much left to play… He had only a few chances to fix this and you were on the edge of your seat over it. You cheered extra loud for him, crossing your fingers he would pull through. You missed him a lot the past week, you were excited to see him, but with everything that seemed wrong, this just went along with it. He had this game in the bag, he’d been practicing all week… 

He could keep the scales balanced but he couldn’t get ahead. He was so plagued by this thought of you, the twistedness of his situation, how completely fucked over he was. You were there and you weren’t his and you couldn’t, wouldn’t be. It was fucked. It was all so fucking stupid? What did you want? Was it always Patrick? Was it ever him? Could it have ever been him? 

He hit the ball back and scored another point and he just needed two more to win but two more to lose and fuck, he was stuck. The ball went back and forth, the rally having you on the edge of your seat, fully submerged in the game, wanting this win for him so badly. He worked so hard and he’d been so down lately, in his own head and he needed this. Another point was scored by Art. He just needed one more to win. The rally continued and it was increasing in intensity by the second to the degree that it was almost violent. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath at such a close game. 

Art glanced over at you, alone where you sat in the crowd, no Patrick in sight. Just you in the glow of the sun. An angel, a good luck charm, someone beautiful. And the ball came flying at Art in a way he hadn’t anticipated. It was as if time slowed down. Art stuck his racket out sideways to anticipate it. He then switched angles, going at it with an upright racket. A double fake out. Time stayed slow, the ball was still in air and Art stepped backward, twisting his arm around him and itself. The racket met the ball and it was propelled with a mix of an underhand and a backhand at the same time. His body followed through with the twist and his opponent, not knowing what the fuck that was, fumbled and missed. 

Everyone stood to cheer for Art, but not you. You stayed seated, looking at him in complete disbelief, eyes wide. He pulled the move. He did the move from the movie. Art just stood on the court, looking at you. His eyes said what he couldn’t. That he loved you. And you knew it. As if you were telepathic, you knew it. It’s why he practiced the whole week. He loved you and he said it through that one stupid move from that one stupid movie. 

You just tilted your head and smiled. Isn't this what you wanted? And that smile of yours turned into a laugh. A gorgeous laugh that he could hear, even in the crowd. His eyes were soft and they were telling. He hadn’t intended to pull that move when he did. But you swore what you swore. In that promise you’d made, there was some truth. Words unsaid were murderous. Ruinous. You just got up and left. 

taglist: @swetearss @lalalandofive @xoxog0ssipg1rl @bayleequits @reallycreativeusername @kaaaiiaaa

[dinnickhowellslikes]

The can and the condensation on it is 3D, it's not real! It's an animation rig for Cinema 4D using X particles, and I can't believe how convincing it is. So good. I'm dropping this here because the guy who built it deserves recognitoin, but also mainly I don't lose it! I might need this on a project soon

https://vimeo.com/705481316

[materialsscienceandengineering]

New X-ray experiment could solve major physics puzzles

Researchers have announced results from a new search at the European X-ray Free Electron Laser (European XFEL) Facility at Hamburg for a hypothetical particle that may make up the dark matter of the universe. The experiment is described in a study published in Physical Review Letters. This experiment looks for axions, a particle which was proposed to solve a major problem in particle physics: why neutrons, although composed of smaller charged particles called quarks, do not possess an electric dipole moment. To explain this, it was suggested that axions, tiny and incredibly light particles, can "cancel out" this imbalance. If observed, this process would provide direct evidence for new physics beyond the Standard Model. Additionally, axions turn out to be a natural candidate for dark matter, the mysterious substance that constitutes most of the structure of the universe.

Read more.

[stepswowdsen]

Magi: Judar + JuAli Rambles 🖤❤️💛🐈‍⬛☀️

Hi! I’ll be writing my reaction rambles after reading a few Magi volumes in JP.

Thanks to Bas, the leader of the fan-scanlation group Project Vinland, and a mutual of mine who’s big in the scanlation community, I got access to Magi’s JP Raws.

Viz’s official English translation of Magi is fine for the most part, in terms of translation quality.

I’ll be putting Sense Scans’ EN fan-TL and Viz’s EN official TL here for reference.

Since I don’t see the need to re-translate lines that both the fan-TL and official TL already translated correctly.

I love the prose that Sense Scans uses in their Magi fan-scanlation.

For certain lines, though, I’ll also be putting the literal translation (from my head).

My beloved JuAli 🖤❤️💛🐈‍⬛☀️

Wanted to ramble about them!

Judar’s pronouns

俺 (Ore, “I”) - Casual, informal, rude. Mainly used by men.

お前/おまえ (Omae, “You”) - Casual, informal, rude. Mainly used by men.

Notes:

Judar’s first-person pronoun is 俺 (Ore, “I”). Judar’s second-person pronouns is おまえ (Omae, “You”)

Judar uses the very casual and informal, rude, masculine pronouns 俺 (Ore, “I”) and おまえ (Omae, “You”). He uses the kanji version of 俺 (Ore, “I") as his first-person pronoun, and interchangeably uses the kanji and hiragana versions of お前/おまえ (Omae, “You”) as his second-person pronoun.

In the Kou Empire arc, he mainly uses the hiragana version of おまえ (Omae, “You”)

He speaks pretty casually and informally. He uses colloquial particles (shortens verb conjugation endings) sometimes.

Extra Notes:

In “Role Language” (役割語, Yakuwarigo), fictional characters’ dialects — the usage of pronouns, particles, etc., conveys character traits such as gender, age, class, and levels of formality, etc.

俺/おれ/オレ (Ore) is an informal first-person pronoun, and very rough version of “I” almost exclusively used by males in casual (informal) situations.

俺 (Ore) tends to be used by characters who are very rough, casual, vulgar, sleazy, in a position of power, and/or, just very manly/masculine.

お前/おまえ/オマエ (Omae) is a very rough second-person pronoun for “You” usually used by males in casual (informal) situations. Usually only used between close friends IRL. It has an aggressive and rude edge when not used between friends. Also used to speak down to others from a higher position.

Arrogant characters (including arrogant royals), tend to lean into using more rough, casual masc pronouns such as 俺 (Ore) and お前 (Omae), such as Xanxus (KHR), Kuroha/Saeru (KagePro), Judar (Magi), Edward (ROTRK), Vegeta (DBZ), Enzan (MMBN/EXE), etc., since they’re in positions of authority and/or high status, and look down on others.

Many of my favourite characters, such as Judar (Magi), Xanxus (KHR), Kuroha (KagePro), Enzan (MMBN/EXE), Edward (ROTRK), and many more, have very rough and masculine speech patterns in JP. All of the characters I listed here also use 俺 (Ore) and お前 (Omae) as their main pronouns.

It’s very typical of rude and arrogant masc characters to lean into using them. Characters who are casual/informal and masculine in general, also tend to lean into using them.

Whether a character uses the kanji or hiragana or katakana versions (or combination) as their pronouns could be used to give off a certain nuance. But it depends on the character and context.

(I actually copied these notes from my XanLena dialogue scripts cuz I don’t feel like writing all of that again. I’ll post more of my KHR AU stuff reventually!)

How he refers to others:

Alibaba:

アリババくん (Aribaba-kun, “Alibaba-kun”)

アリババ (Aribaba, “Alibaba”)

ハニワ (Haniwa, “Clay doll”)

Sinbad:

シンドバッド (Shindobaddo, “Sinbad”)

バカ殿 (Baka tono, “Idiot king”)

Note: 殿 (tono, “feudal lord”)

Hakuryuu:

白龍 (Hakuryuu, “Hakuryuu”)

Aladdin:

アラジン (Arajin, “Aladdin”)

チビ (Chibi, "Runt; squirt; pipsqueak")

Judar's Usage of Particles:

の (no) - Sentence ending particle. Can be used to soften a sentence.

な/なあ (na/naa) - Sentence ending particle. Masculine, usually used by men.

ね/ねえ (ne/nee) - Sentence ending particle. Can be used to soften a sentence. [X]

よ (yo) - Sentence ending particle. Often used to soften a sentence.

ぜ (ze) - Sentence ending particle. Rude, rough, informal, masculine, used to add emphasis. Slightly softer than the sentence ending particle ぞ (zo). Usually used by men.

んだ (nda) - Sentence ending particle, used to add emphasis. Casual/informal version.

んだよ (nda yo) - See above, but it adds the nuance of trying to give a new perspective to the listener that they don’t have. [X]

だ (da) - Sentence ending particle. Masculine, forceful, used for emphasis.

だろ (daro) - Sentence ending particle. Masculine, forceful, used for emphasis.

じゃん (Jyan) - Casual colloquial of じゃない (Jyanai) → Has the nuance of “Isn’t it?” and “Actually.” Makes the sentence softer.

Ex. いるんだ (irunda)

んだ (nda) has a casual nuance. He uses colloquial particles.

Not a comprehensive list, but ones I’ve noticed so far. I’ll probably edit the section about his usage of particles later since I still need to check them

Judar often shortens verb conjugations in his casual/informal speech style.

Characters like Judar, Xanxus, (and Enzan occasionally) use shortened verb conjugations, colloquials (casual forms) of verbs. This is very typically masc. Rougher masc charas often do this

Ex.

いらない (Iranai, "Don't need/want [it]") (Plain negative form) → Iran or Iranee (いらん/いらねえ, “Don’t need/want [it]”) (Shortened casual/informal negative form)

いらない (Iranai) → いらん/いらねえ (Iran/Iranee)

Magi: Vol. 27 - Ch. 267

(EDIT: 3/20/2025)

I checked Magi: Vol. 27 - 28 in JP, and it seems like Judar consistently calls him "Alibaba" without an honorific and uses the pronoun おまえ (Omae, “You”) for him, in their interactions on the Dark Continent in the Kou Empire arc.

In the Kou Empire arc, Judar mainly calls him “Alibaba” (アリババ)

I included “Alibaba-kun” (アリババくん) because I saw Judar use that for Alibaba in Ohtaka's doodles.

It does make me curious how Judar referred to Alibaba, pre-Kou Empire arc (if he even referred to him by name before the Kou Empire arc). I would have to check...

In my JuAli AU and own HCs, I would have Judar use "Alibaba-kun" pre-Kou Empire arc, and then have him drop the honorific and just use "Alibaba" in the Kou Empire arc once they're finally closer.

In manga canon, since the Kou Empire arc is when the two finally begin to understand each other, Judar has become more casual and comfortable with him now.

Other Rambles

Ok I got a lot more to say about this, but I'll put in another post.

My friend Cinna was right, Viz has a tendency to absolutely butcher characters' unique speech styles and make everyone sound the same in their TLs.

Like Alibaba noticeably has a more mature and humble tone, and it's especially noticeable in his interactions with Judar in the Kou Empire arc.

Viz's prose honestly annoys me sometimes. The Viz version has Alibaba be a lot less empathetic towards Judar, even though he's supposed to be an empathetic character.

The wording of "You're pathetic! But you used to be cocky!" just has very different implications and comes off differently.

I can understand shortening the dialogue so it fits in the speech bubbles, but sometimes half the sentence's context just goes missing too, which is kinda annoying.

I understand the context SO much better with the fan-TL.

Magi: Vol. 27 - Ch. 266

JP (Original)

Page 1

Judar: Huh?

ジュダル：ふう～ん？

(Judaru: Fuu~n?)

...

Judar: (I don't understand what this guy is saying at all!)

ジュダル：（こいつのいってること、サッパリわからないぜ！）

(Judaru: Koitsu no itteru koto, sappari wakaranai ze!)

...

Judar: (Geez, why did Aladdin choose this guy!?)

ジュダル：（まったく、アラジンはなぜこんな奴を選んだんだ！？）

(Judaru: Mattaku, Arajin wa naze konna yatsu wo eranda nda!?)

...

Judar: (And Hakuryuu too. Just what about this guy that charmed him so much…………)

ジュダル：（白龍だってそうだ。こんな奴の、一体どこにそんなにひかれて…………）

(Judaru: Hakuryuu datte sou da. Konna yatsu no, ittai doko ni sonna ni hikarete…………)

Note: Comes from the verb 惹かれる (hikareru, “to be charmed by; to be attracted to; to be taken with; to be drawn to”)

Page 2

Judar: That's right, just what about Alibaba charmed Aladdin and Hakuryuu enough to make them so fixated with him?

ジュダル：そうだ、アラジンと白龍は、アリババの一体何にそんなにひかれて、あんなにこだわっていたんだ？）

(Judaru: Souda, Arajin to Hakuryuu wa, Aribaba no ittai nani ni sonna ni hikarete, anna ni kodawatteita nda?)

Note: Te-ita form verb conjugation. Comes from the verb 拘る (kodawaru, “to be obsessive (about); to be overly concerned (with); to be hung up (on); to be fixated with”)

...

Judar: (I just don't understand.)

ジュダル：（俺にはわからないぜ。）

(Judaru: Ore ni wa wakaranai ze.)

Fan-TL (Sense Scans)

Official TL (Viz)

I get both JuAli and AliHaku crumbs from Judar’s monologue about Alibaba. Isn’t that amazing? ^v^

I already talked about this scene plenty before, so I won't copy paste the same rambles from before.

Fan-TL is spot on with this ^^

Viz removes the first mention of "Charmed/Attracted" in the 1st page, but at least keeps it in the 2nd page.

I think the gist is kept, but the original and fan-TL are more explicit and obvious about it.

"That's right, what about Alibaba charmed them so much to make them so fixated with him?"

...

I noticed that in the last sentence, Judar's 何 (nani, "what") has a dot in place of furigana (characters that denote the pronunciation of a word, or add a certain nuance to the text).

This is called 圏点 (kenten, "emphasis mark") or 傍点 (bouten, "emphasis mark").

This is used for emphasis, similar to how English uses underlines or italics or bold for emphasis.

It has an emphatic nuance. It's used to add emphasis on a word. Typical manga fonts used in official localizations have all words in capital letters, so Ig in this case, bold or italics could convey this kind of nuance.

...

The equivalent in English would be something like this:

(Capital letters)

Judar: That's right, just WHAT about Alibaba charmed Aladdin and Hakuryuu enough to make them so fixated with him?

Or this

(Bold)

Judar: That's right, just what about Alibaba charmed Aladdin and Hakuryuu enough to make them so fixated with him?

Or this

(Italics)

Judar: That's right, just what about Alibaba charmed Aladdin and Hakuryuu enough to make them so fixated with him?

Or this

(Underline)

Judar: That's right, just what about Alibaba charmed Aladdin and Hakuryuu enough to make them so fixated with him?

...

Oooooh you're stumped by it!!!

Alibaba's charm points of what drew others to him...

You wanna know so bad, huh?

I think I got more to say in general about this scene, but I wrote enough for now ^^

You already get the point 👍

Other Notes

Me: Some of Viz’s spellings are just weird to me, like them translating Magnostadt as a direct romanization → Magnoshutatt

Magnostadt (マグノシュタット, Magunoshutatto) 

For some reason???

...

Friend: God bless you Sen 😭💓💓 This is all really fascinating to read

Me: You're welcome! English is so BORING to me as a language when it comes to things like this, because everyone sounds the same. You're either normal or you're cowboy. Yeehaw /lh

I love how languages like Vietnamese and Japanese can express things like character traits and personality, etc., in speech.

I love how it can convey the "vibes" that a character gives off right away, just from their speech style/patterns.

Vietnam has a lot of dialects and speech quirks! The main ones are the North, South, and Central Vietnamese dialects. And they have many variants depending on the area

Yakuwarigo ("Role Language"), fictional characters' dialects/speech styles in Japanese, is SOOO interesting, and English doesn't have a proper equivalent for it.

This is part of why I wanted to learn Japanese. THIS conveys things like character traits and different speech styles SO MUCH more.

Also keep in mind that I’m doing these quick literal TLs quickly based on my interpretation of the text, and that I’m still learning JP, so I can make mistakes 🙏

If you notice any, feel free to correct me!

Resources

If you’d like to learn more about Japanese pronouns in an IRL context, see these links:

Yakuwarigo

Links

Japanese particles

Do note that Role Language in fiction can differ partially and/or a lot from usage in IRL contexts.

In fictional characters’ dialects, 貴方/あなた (Anata, “You”) is considered a neutral or polite/formal pronoun (depending on the context)

IRL, it’s rude to call someone with 貴方/あなた (Anata, “You”) because “it sounds accusatory to pound the listener with ‘You’ every sentence”

Emphasis Marks

[kaptorka-prod]

Merry Christmas and upcoming New Year! 🎄✨Here's a 'quick' render based on old scene with hot springs and reflective ass to make you cheer up🍑🤗

[meriamarie]

What do you mean I have to shade and render the other character?

[gunlicker13]

[tough-girl9]

OK, my Star Trek and Data fan peeps, I have a book you NEED to read: The Infinity Particle by Wendy Xu. It's a beautiful YA sci-fi graphic novel that just came out a couple months ago, and I am in love.

Set in a future colony on Mars, where advanced AI has become commonplace, it explores a lot of the same themes as "The Measure of a Man": what is humanity, at what point does a being become sentient, and what rights to autonomy and individuality do such beings have? Plus, it's got an adorable sweet romance between the human main character (who has an interesting twist of her own) and the (very cute) android who is struggling with his newfound feelings and sentience.

It's just...so gorgeous and so sweet and hitting me with all the cute android feels. I can't imagine anyone who's a Data fan in particular not loving this book, but I recommend it for any fans of sci fi and YA graphic novels

Seriously, I am going feral over this book.

[kylermalloy]

Eat Your Young

Fandom: Dark (2017)

Characters: Martha Nielsen/Jonas Kahnwald

Word Count: 709

Inspired by @hurngry’s references to insects and Dark

*annoying nerd voice* “Did you know that female praying mantises will eat the males after mating?”

A deep-sea anglerfish, she reads, even bodily integrates with his female partner after mating. Vanishes into her entirely.

She laughs a little at that one.

She won’t have to visit the deep sea to play it out.

Read more