#not bright or super vibrant... but... orange...

[artnerd1123]

what's ur favorite flower?

aaa, I’m not sure! I’ve never really thought much abt a favorite... there’s a lot of em that I really enjoy...

Maybe lavendar, for the smell!

[vetyr]

hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT

Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.

When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.

I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.

Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.

For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.

Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.

The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!

It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.

I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).

Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)

[agirlwithglam]

zara larsson summer ❀˚⋆☀️𓇼˚🐬

heyyy girls! so i know i havent been online in a WHILE buuutttt here i am now! ⭐️ summer is HERE which means sun beach swim on REPEAT! my obsession and inspo for this summer is gonna be ZARA LARSSON 🐬🌈✨💗🌊☀️ i love her music and her overall vibe & aura soooo much shes so cool so heres my summer blueprint to a Zara Larsson summer 😝💕

sosososo lettts begin! in this wee little blog post i will be covering zara larsson coded outfits, accessorising, and summer activities! 😄

styling like zara larsson - outfits!

so it is VERY obvious that zara loves colours. her outfits always have a wide range of bright and vibrant colours, bold, neon, catching your attention. dont be afraid to mix and match different colours, have FUN with it!!!

layering different colours, materials, textures

find tops with sequence, sparkles & glitter, fun/tropical/playful prints like flowers, palm trees, even tops with just lots of colours and shapes in different sizes

very beachy, summer coded. have fun with the types and colours of clothing !!!!!

as for JEWELLERY, find bold, neon, takes up SPACE! go big or go home !!!

also for swimmers, wear ofc whatever makes you feel comfortable. bikinis, takinis, full body. if u wanna be super zara larsson bikinis/ tankinis with bright colours like pink and yellow are perfect.

TOPS; remember - the more bedazzled, the better

anything colourful and bright

tank tops

rhinestone graphic tanks (you could bedazzle them YOURSELF!)

bikini tops/ bra tops

baby tees

ponchos

asymmetrical tops

halter tops

scarf tops (literally wearing scarfs as tops)

BOTTOMS;

capri jeans

rhinestone jeans

low rise jeans

flowy skirts

micro shorts

SHOES

boots

bedazzled/ metallic heels

kitten heels

platform sandals/ flip flops - even bedazzle your flip flops if u want!

ballet flats

chunky sneakers - with BOLD colours ofc

sparkly mules

styling like zara larsson: makeup & accessorising!

MAKEUP

firstly, as of makeup, zara larsson's make up as you can obviously see, is divine. i am so in love with each and every one of her make up looks. especially her blue one she looks like an absolute SNOW QUEEN in it im obsessed.

brightly coloured eyeshadow is a must, and dont just remain on the eyelid, explore on the sides of the eyes and other parts of the face to get an ethereal look. + add in glitter and sparkles, OBVIOUSLY and rhinestones to be even more bedazzling!

glossy lips always! in case you cared, my favourite brand is fenty beauty by rihanna, her lipglosses are gorgeous and so nice on the lips for me <3

to be included: jewellery, accessories, belts, hair clips, etc!

as for jewellery, again, go BIG OR GO HOME! chunky, big, neons, bold.

JEWELLERY; big hoops, hanging earrings, chunky beachy necklasses, arm cuffs, colourful chokers, bracelets/ charms, even belly chains if u can with big bright colours

also the flower hairclips are suuuuuper zara larsson coded i would definitely get and use one of those. also just coloured hair clips in general to bring more pizaazz

for BELTS get anything edgy, preppy/ y2k again, with bright neon colours and bold designs

MORE;

baseball/trucker hats

sunglassesssss!!! a MUST.

shoulder bags - if sparkley/ sequenced even better

nails!! 💅 shimmer, colours like orange, yellow, pink, bright greens and blues and teals!

also sparkley waterproof glittery tattoo thingies. u can diy them 😆

⛱️ elite summer activities!

what is summer without going outside and NOT staying in your room all day because that is SO NOT what zara larsson would do. not all of these are big and event-like, some are as simple as just taking the time to give yourself a glitter tattoo! 🐬✨ this summer will be YOUR bitch if u make it. 🌊💓

go to the beach (DUHH) here are some things to do at the beach:

make sandcastles - like deadass tho

try and learn to surf

play mermaids

beach in the jar

paint rocks/ seashells

beach paintings

beach volleyballll!!!

SWIM

okay other stuff now............................

swimming

kayaking

bonfire/ camping/ hiking (if ur one of those people who like hiking)

or js go for a long walk somewhere pretty

make a short summery film

go to a playground late at night

henna & glitter tattoos

make a summer bucket list!

paint your own bikini box

do a slip n slide!

go rollerskating - maybe even BEDAZZLE ur rollerskates zara larsson style

go cycling

outdoor movie

paint your nails (zara larsson style obvi)

make friendship bracelets/ charms

and remember, even as a brown baddie you can totally zara larsson-ify the hell out of your summer 🐬xx

[alice-everafter]

to become What You Hate most

╰┈➤ in which Yuu must play the part of the perpetrator, all while forgetting that they’re also the victim

word count: 5.1k

<< previous (3)

Chapter 4:

Yuu’ve got to be kidding me

Night Raven Academy sat in the dip of a mountain range with only one apparent road in or out of campus. Bracketed on all sides by the rising tides of the earth, it was all but hidden from the eyes of the public on Sage's Isle. Because being hidden in the mountains and forest wasn't enough, the founders decided to place their magical, elite academy on an island. Just to really set the record straight for those who were not given the privilege of admission.

"Awesome view, right?"

You turn your gaze away from the window to Cater at your side. He's just the slightest bit too close, where you feel the need to scoot away subtly. But there's nowhere to scoot at the moment. You're already all but pressed against the bus's window.

"It's loads more aesthetic when it's daytime, and you're not inside a horse-drawn carriage," Cater says.

Your brows furrow. "Horse-drawn carriage?"

"Yeah. On orientation, the school gets like hundreds of carriages to take up the freshmen from the town for our first night. But it's done in the evening, obviously. So you can't really see anything on the way up."

"Oh, that's…"

"Dramatic?" Cater finishes for you.

"Sure," you agree. Even though you were thinking more along the lines of flatulent.

The bus rumbles and jerks with a particularly abrupt turn. Cater collides into your side and truly presses you into the window.

"Sorry." He smiles guiltily, even though he makes no move to, well, move.

"It's fine." You say regardless.

Eventually, the shuttle bus pulls around another bend in the road, and you get your first glimpse of Sage's Isle's only town. It looks small, but that's from a distance and at a higher altitude. The farther the bus travels down the mountain, the more you start to see the details. It's bright and vibrant, with roofs in shades of terracotta red. What it lacks in modern appeal, it makes up for in age-old character. The buildings look dated, like they've been built at least a century ago. And from what you can make of the town's layout, the roads aren't fashioned in a grid like other modern cities.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Cater's voice sounds from over your shoulder, still far too close. He's smiling like he always is, if not with a hint of mischief.

"Yeah," you sigh, wondering not for the first time what you've gotten yourself into. "It is."

Nothing else is said for the rest of the ride. By the time you two step off the bus, it's early afternoon, and the town's square is alive with movement. It's a large, oval center of white cobblestone that encircles a raised mound of earth. At the top is what looks like a lighthouse, colored similarly to the rest of the buildings but duller, a clear sign of its age. The whole place reminds you of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, with its streets branching out from the epicenter of the monument.

"That's one of the first buildings ever built on the island," Cater says, probably having followed your gaze.

"It's a lighthouse, right? Why is it in the center of town and not near the water?"

"'Cause sea levels change," Cater states, then shrugs. "Probably."

"Market is that way, towards the pier." He directs with a finger pointed to the left. "There's this one stall that sells the best sandwiches. You just have to get there, like, super early to snag one. Sadly, we're headed this way." Then he grabs onto your sleeve and leads you off in the opposite direction. Away from the square to join the other bodies walking.

As you try not to keep up with his long strides, you notice the lack of cars. There are a few, as well as the occasional bus, but it's predominantly bikes, mopeds, and carts on the road. What's more interesting than that, however, is the lack of vibrant hair color. At Night Raven, you've seen everything from bright orange like Cater's to black like Dire Crowley's. But here, it's predominantly brown with blonde being the runner-up. Every once in a while, you can catch a glimpse of dark green or even pink in one case. But not to the same frequency as on campus.

There's probably something there, some sort of social nuance you're aware of but not comprehending. You'd ask Cater, but he's preoccupied with looking down at his phone. And you're not feeling up to asking any questions. Considering how many you'll probably have to dodge once you two make it to the cafe.

Just thinking about it makes you feel nauseous with nerves. It's been two weeks since you found yourself here, and only one since you confronted Cater before someone broke into your home, then met Malleus. It hasn't even been a full month, and you feel like you're fraying at the edges. You're constantly hopping between blinding helplessness and obsessive planning. When one problem starts, you realize there are two more to go along with it. And once those are properly handled, even more are waiting for your attention. But that's not the end, because the further you go, the farther you'll have to backtrack once you realize you've made a mistake.

It feels like it never ends. You wonder if it ever will. How long will you be stuck in this exhausting loop? You don't know, and that scares you.

So you dive into this world as hard as you can. Every lick of your free time not spent in class is spent trying to catch up with the average citizen. There's only so much ignorance you can pawn off as being from your 'lesser' upbringing. You don't even want to know how much you've tanked Yuuri's grades so far. Immersing yourself is both the best distraction and the worst reminder, but it's all you have. Thus, it's only natural that Cater Diamond is one of your biggest distractions and the most grave reminder.

He's been messaging you on Magicam since you gave him your user. Everything from asking to eat lunch to questions about which classes you have. He's even offered to tutor you in a few subjects. You don't take him up on it for fear that he'll cash in on the favor later, but he's been persistent. Positively persistent.

If it were anyone else, you'd be flattered. But this was Cater, you remind yourself each time he somehow manages to find you in a crowd. When he's standing outside your classroom door, already waiting for you to walk out, even though you never told him what room your introduction to magical history would be in. If you're not careful, you could very easily get swept up in his attention and misunderstand what sort of place it's coming from. He is the paparazzi to your celebrity, not the friend you rendezvous with after class.

You may have something on him, no matter how minuscule that may be, but he could still find something on you. It's why this has to go well. You have to take control of this narrative like you did in your first week. All those days spent carefully containing your expression into blankness so that rumors would spread about your hard exterior were necessary to your survival. Never mind how cut off you felt from everyone imaginable; it was necessary. Better to be feared than to be looked down upon.

"Yuu?"

Like a snap in front of your face, you're pulled from your near spiral with a jerk of your head. Cater is no longer holding onto your sleeve; you're not sure when he even let go.

"We're here," is all he says. He gestures to your surroundings, and you find that both of you are already standing in line for a seat outside of a brightly pastel colored cafe. "Lost in thought?"

"Yes," you say simply while your eyes rake near desperately across the crowd for a subject change. That's when you notice that more than a few times in just a few seconds, your eyes connect with a stranger's, who then promptly looks away. "Is it just me, or are we being stared at?"

"It's not just you," he says. "That's normal for a Night Raven student."

You look to him at your side, one hand casually in his pocket and the other thumbing through some sort of website on his phone. "It's normal for college students to be stared at?"

"Night Raven college students, yeah." He flicks a few more times at his screen, then glances at you with a subtle eyebrow raise. "We're kind of famous, ya know? The entrance rate is less than 20 percent, so we're bound to get some attention whether we like it or not."

It makes sense, you think. Names like Harvard and Yale carry significance, so you imagine for Night Raven it is probably in the same ballpark. The more you look for it, the more you start to see. The pinched furrow to one man's expression, or the open awe in another's eyes. In another case, you swear you see lust behind someone else's heavy gaze. It all makes your stomach churn.

You want to push for a more thorough answer from Cater, but you're almost at the door, so you bite your lip and bury it for later.

Except you're reminded of it again when the cashier at the register openly flirts with Cater as he orders.

"Night Raven, right?" She asks with a hint of coyness in her tone, pointing at the school-issued blazer Cater wears and the band around his upper arm.

"Got it in one." He nods with a wink, a wink. "Ever been to one of our events and seen the campus?"

"Never," she admits with a shake of her head. "It's always impossible to get on the wait list."

"I bet," he throws back with a smooth and easy grin.

"Cater," you suddenly interject, just about blurt out. Now both of their attentions are on you. Shame and embarrassment make your palms instantly clammy, like you've ruined their moment. Like there isn't a line of people you can feel staring daggers into your back. "Are we done here, or can I find us a table?"

"Oh, yeah, let's go sit." He smiles, all innocent and without a hint of remorse.

With the number for his order in hand, you walk with steady strides towards an open spot you could see outside. You take the seat with a view of the street, and Cater takes the one right next to you. Then proceeds to scooch his chair closer to yours.

"It's busy," you comment. Taking care not to look at him or bring attention to his proximity.

"It's a limited edition menu in collaboration with another brand."

"Do events like these happen often here?"

"As often as they happen anywhere else." He leans back in his seat and lazily drapes an arm across the back of yours.

This game was getting old really fast. "Want to tell me what you're doing all up in my business?"

"Oh, sorry." As quickly as he put it there, he moved his arm away. Without any further fanfare. "I tend to get really friendly, really fast with people I know."

Cater doesn't seem to be doing anything wrong. He's casually reclined in his chair, phone placed down on the table, and attention directed towards you. When he sees you watching, he smiles, bashfully apologetic.

Bullshit, you want to call. Just stop playing all these mind games and get it over with.

"It's fine," is what comes out of your mouth. "Just try not to do it again. I like my personal space."

・・・・・⟢・・・・・・⟢・・・・・・⟢・・・・・

Cater is snapping photos of his elaborately constructed frappe and its accompanying tiered hor d'eurves platter. There are mini sandwiches, cheesecakes, cookies, and tarts on four different plates. The presentation is very cute, you have to admit. You get why he wanted to come here.

But the second he's done getting photos on both his phone and digital camera, he's pushing the sugary drink over to you and typing away at his screen.

"So what's this rumor about you being a murderer?" He doesn't even look up as he says this.

"Not bothering to dance around the topic then?" You try to push as much bravado as you can into your words, hoping it masks just how jittery with adrenaline you feel.

"Figured I'd might as well start with the big question of the day, right?"

You watch as his thumbs move fast across his screen. Once he realizes that you haven't said anything, he looks up. Only then do you decide to answer him.

"I was put on trial for the murder of a boy at my last school." It feels like you're reading lines from a script, and in a way, you are. Pulling from the little bit of information Yuuri has actually confessed to. "I was never actually convicted, if that's what you were wondering."

"Everyone knows that." He sets his phone face down and leans onto the table with his elbows, reaching for a piece of the cucumber finger sandwiches. "The trial was deemed inconclusive."

You hum in agreement, picking up the drink and directing the straw to your lips. It's sweet, but not to an intense degree. It's rather good, actually. If anything, it helps to settle yourself a little through the sugar coating your tongue. "Anything else that you found while searching me up? Something that no major news source bothered to elaborate on?"

He thinks about that, chewing and swallowing another sandwich while you reach for one as well. It's a simple tea sandwich, and yet it's packed with flavor. At least the food made this excursion even more worth the trouble.

"… You have magic in your bloodline somehow, don't you?" Cater eventually decides to ask. His green eyes haven't left your focus since this conversation started. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

You nod, not bothering to explicitly confirm or deny the statement. Yuuri themself never did either, just commented bitterly on how long it took to manifest.

"That's rare," Cater goes on while waving around a half-eaten sandwich. "Magic typically stays visible in a family for generations unless it fizzles out prematurely from some sort of illness or accident. And yet your coloring doesn't suggest that you have it."

Then he gestures up towards his head, and the pieces fall into place. Magic can manifest in hair color. So all those brightly colored greens and reds and purples you've seen on campus are a sign of magical lineage. It's why most of the town has colors like blonde and brown. Those few instances of color were from other Night Raven students, most likely.

"I know," you say, in full confidence. "I am very aware of that fact. But I don't know my biological family, so there's still a possibility there, right?"

"You're an orphan?"

"Didn't find that in your research?"

He hums, poking at a lemon tart with his fork while he thinks on that.

"But if you need further proof," you go on, feeling electric with impatience to finish this off. "Then what do you know about the Magic Marshall?"

Suddenly, his attention feels airtight. Everything about him stops as he blinks and stares with wide eyes.

"So it's true then?" He murmurs, not at all in the same range of volume that he's been typically speaking at. "There was one at your trial?"

This was the one piece of information you had that you weren't entirely sure about. The title was thrown around a lot near the end of the first book by everyone and their mothers. Yet no one, not even Yuuri, confirmed whether it was true. So you did your own digging.

A Magic Marshall is a special division of the law that deals with crimes relating to magic and the appearance of it. In some cases, magic could be the cause of death, and in others, it's just something found in traces as a diversion for the professionals to fumble over. That means in Yuuri's case, it could also be any of the above options.

Looking through every single news report of the crime turned up nothing. Just talk about a new, unnamed student at Night Raven who was connected to the murder of another student after being the last person seen with him. Yuuri's name was pulled from most of the major reports, the only ones that included it being lesser publications like those run by blogs or gossip columns. And it was through those same columns that you found your own confirmation.

In one column, in a post that has now been taken down, there was a grainy picture of a man in robes seen entering the place where the crime was committed alongside an escort. The typical uniform of a Magic Marshall.

It's not the greatest source of confirmation. If anything, it's more like a shot in the dark. But there must be some truth to it if Yuuri is here at Night Raven now. Surely the academy that prides itself on the noble lineage of its students wouldn't sully the pot with an outsider just for the fun of it.

Besides, the information on this case in particular is locked tight. Most of the known facts are from general statements given by the police and Yuuri's lawyer, whom you have no idea how to get in contact with, by the way. Everything else related to the case is just about impossible to find. You might as well call it non-existent. Which is both a blessing and a curse for you.

Because there is very little known about Yuuri's almost murder charge, you also know very little. But it's thanks to the fact that nothing is known that you have a bit of wiggle room to start stretching the supposed truth. Since you are currently possessing the body of the only known perpetrator, you're now the best source around. And the beauty about Night Raven is that the information running around within its walls is just as locked tight as the circumstances surrounding Yuuri's trial.

Now you can only hope that no one nefarious is nearby to see you nod to Cater, confirming what others have been speculating since the picture first leaked.

"I'm here for a reason," you tell him while staring down an immaculately decorated mini cheesecake. "That's all I'm willing to say, given our current location."

He huffs with a wide grin stretching across his face, reaching up to wind a strand of hair around his finger. "Relax, there are so many people here, all the noise would drown us out. And who would want to listen in, anyway?"

"I have no idea," you enunciate while making pointed eye contact with him. He just looks at you without an ounce of fault whilst taking a bite out of a tiny tart.

"You should try these." He moves on, placing a tart, one of the cheesecakes, and two cookies onto your plate. "They're really good."

For all that you've gotten decently good at misdirecting questions and claims, Cater is just as good, if not better. But the smile on his face seems genuine right now, if not especially pleased. You've given him what he's wanted, a scoop. You're not all too sure how he'll use it, but what's done is done. You've proven your worth; that should be enough for him to keep you around.

・・・・・⟢・・・・・・⟢・・・・・・⟢・・・・・

The afternoon bleeds into the early evening as you both walk back to the shuttle pick-up. Cater seems content to walk in silence, so you do as well. The streets are still active, but you're not actively trying to dodge incoming bodies anymore. It's a lot more relaxing. And coming off the success you've had thus far, you allow yourself the break as you regard your surroundings.

The town really is gorgeous. There are elaborate light fixtures on either side of the street. There are no lanes for cars or otherwise, but you do watch the occasional moped and plenty of bikes whirl on past. Every building has its own special character that makes it both unique yet similar to the rest. It makes you wonder about its history, about the similarities that this town may hold with ones from your world. Twisted Lovers focused so little on its setting that this scenario you've found yourself in might just be a blessing to your world-building-starved heart.

"Hey, Yuu?" Cater pipes up for the first time in a while as you guys wait to cross the street to get to the town's square.

"Hmm?"

"Are you expecting anyone right now?"

Your face scrunches in confusion. What kind of a question is that? "Besides you? No. Why do you ask?"

"Oh," he says, and you look to see him facing straight ahead with a perfectly calm expression. "That's interesting. 'Cause I totally think someone is following us."

Your heart sinks like a brick into your stomach. "What do you mean?"

He casually shuffles closer to make sure you hear him. "I mean, that there's a guy in a hood and mask that's been following us for the past two minutes."

Hood and mask. The description makes your head swim with a million questions, even though it rings all the bells.

"The hood wouldn't happen to be black, would it?"

You don't bother looking up to see what his face might look like. You can already feel his eyes attempting to stare holes through you.

"Not your first rodeo then?"

"Sure," you sigh, a humorless attempt at a laugh, feeling the cold sweat drip down your back. "Something like that."

This had never happened before. Yuuri Kuroshi had never been stalked in the town in the main story. At least, not in the first. Had you sped up the plot? There's no way, it's only been two weeks. How fast could you possibly pull ahead in just two weeks? The only thing that's changed is the photo evidence you've collected from the break-in, and the reputation you've garnered on campus. But only Crowley knows about the photos. And Malleus knows about the break-in. You didn't say a thing to Cater; you made very sure of that. Lord knows he'd publish that story in a heartbeat.

Does that mean Crowley started talking? There's no way it was Malleus; his isolation from the rest of the school populace was made very clear. Except, how sure of that can you be? Or was it just you? Was your behavior so out of character that someone figured it out and intends to corner you? Was your end already here?

"Yuu," Cater's voice is a lighthouse in the wake of the storm rampaging through your mind. "Breathe, you're seriously freaking out right now."

"Gee, I wonder why." You bite back, too stressed to hold your tongue. "It's almost like I actually am freaking out right now."

He grabs onto your shaky hand and squeezes. "Then let's lose him." Then he's pulling you across the street as the signal changes, slithering between bodies and into the crowd.

You stay as close as you can once you collect yourself enough to keep up. The square is still alive with as much commotion as it had in the early afternoon. It's not hard to follow the flow of people and blend into the masses. You don't look back until you and Cater are almost at the other side of the square. Then you chance a brief glimpse over your shoulder. It takes a second, but you spot him. A lithe-looking figure clad in a dark ensemble with a hood pulled over his head and a mask to hide his face.

"He's still following us." You lean up to inform Cater as he looks both ways and pulls you across the street. "It's probably because of your hair, it's easily recognizable."

"That just means we have to lose him another way." Then he takes off into a sprint down the road, dragging you along for the ride.

People look at you both as you pass, probably wondering what has two Night Raven students running like they're being chased. You, on the other hand, don't bother thinking too hard about what sort of scene you're making. You're too focused on breathing and trying to keep your feet under yourself. It's when the streets start to get more deserted, and the pathways start to narrow, that you hear it. The whispered chants that fell from Malleus' mouth as he warded your house. But this time, coming from Cater.

It's not to the same degree as Malleus, where you could all but taste his magic in the air. But it's enough that goosebumps prick at your skin where his hand still holds on tight to yours. Then, right when you round another corner, right before you pass the opening of an alley, Cater pulls you abruptly into it. And there, right as your path diverges, the after-images of you and Cater continue to run down the street. While the real two huddle behind a giant waste bin.

Cater urges you to press into the wall, bracketing you in with his body as he continues to whisper, to chant. "I am him, and he is them, I am him, and he is them." His face is pinched in concentration, trained at your feet. You watch a bead of sweat roll down his forehead to his furrowed brow. This close, he smells like aged vanilla and ink.

Distantly, in the background of your mind, you can hear the thundering steps of someone running past the alley you both are hiding in. Once the footfall is far enough away, Cater gasps like he's coming up for air, only to grab your hand again and peel out of the alley back the way you came.

You don't stop running until you're back near the square, when you can once again blend in with the crowd. Cater's steps slow, and slow, then stumble. Your worry doubles as he nearly trips over a curb. Moving to his side, you lace your arm with his and drag him towards the shuttle bus. Flashing the driver your student badge, you're allowed to board. You all but shove Cater into the window seat and plop down beside him. He sits down like he's dead on his feet, then slumps against the window with a weak groan.

You're still panting, all but wheezing as you hear the bus doors close and the engine start. Then you're pulling off into the trail of other carts and bikes.

Neither of you says anything for a while. Your lungs are burning, angry from the continuous exertion. Sweat makes your clothes cling to your body in all the ways that are overwhelming. You realize your hands are shaking as you wipe at the sweat on the back of your neck.

Cater looks almost unresponsive, the only reason you're not panicking is that you can see his chest heave with his breaths. When the buzz of adrenaline finally starts to wane, and you can hear things other than the sound of your own heartbeat, you lean over to look at Cater's face.

He's pale, but he always has been. Except right now, you swear he looks sickly, faint. Without really thinking about it, you reach out and touch the back of your hand to his clammy forehead. His eyes peel open, like it pains him to do so.

"Was that…" You try to ask, but stop. Not knowing if he's able to respond in the state that he's in.

Eventually, he nods with one slow tilt of his head. "Yeah… Unique… Magic."

It's been mentioned before in class, during your introduction to magic course. Unique Magic is a title given to special spells passed down from generations and generations of mages. Though the general specialty type may stay consistent, each rendition changes as it's developed and discovered through the mage's own magical capabilities into different variations.

"I've… never seen someone cast for that long." Besides Malleus, you've only seen displays of spell work from the professors and the occasional student. But even then, it's rare for such a high level of visible effect to be cast successfully. Let alone by a human mage.

"I'm… a third year… for a reason, ya know?" He sluggishly says, then grins, tired yet prideful. Even as he sits here looking very much worse for wear.

You sigh, feeling worn beyond your years. "Thank you for pushing yourself like that. I don't know what we would've done if you didn't pull that off."

"It's no biggie." He shrugs with only one shoulder, the one not pressed up against the window for support. The bus jerks and rumbles as the road starts to lead up into the mountains. "… So, did you know… who that was?"

You knew it was coming, but still, you can't fight back the flinch his question evokes from you. There's no way out of this. How the hell are you meant to spin this in your favor?

You look down at your lap, where your hands fiddle with a loose thread from your pants. Your sneakers, Yuuri's sneakers, are worn beyond their years. They've clearly been put through the wringer for longer than they were made to. Compared to Cater's fresh-looking designer pair, it's a sad sight. But Cater also looks similarly sad, with his sweat-soaked hair and pallid skin. He didn't need to go that far for you, but he did. Surely that has to mean something. You can only hope it does.

"I haven't the faintest idea," you tell him, feeling like you have to push the words out of your throat. You follow his lead and lean back in your seat, letting the tension of the day weigh you down. "I've already been targeted once, I just didn't think it'd happen again."

"Would you believe me if I told you I didn't kill anyone?" Slumped near his shoulder, you turn your head towards him. He's still leaning against the window, but his head is raised, and there's a bit more color to his face. His eyes are overactive as they take you in. They're rather pretty in this moment, you think. The beginnings of the setting sun make them seem even brighter than normal. Not to the neon levels of Malleus' but still illuminant-like. Vibrant like the color of summer, when the grass is at its brightest.

He clears his throat, and you blink away the mood that had settled over you. "Yes," he answers, then repeats, "yes, I would."

Something eases in your chest, maybe one of the many weights you have been made to bear upon your conscience. Whatever it is, it feels like relief. The two of you don't say anything else for the rest of the journey back to campus. You're not sure if that's a blessing or a curse.

・・・・・⟢・・・・・・⟢・・・・・・⟢・・・・・

tag list: @the-holy-pigeon @human-v7 @0genni5 @cherrybomb5000 @iamprodigious @evermore-07 @lovesick-fairy @loyalkatniss @dweeb-central @mousedit @wtfamidoingwhithmylife @lioness-of-brittany

[erientypes]

Super Tuna

Seokjin x Y/N

Desc: “Fishing at 4 am? Who in their right mind would agree to that??...Oh Seokjin is asking? Yeah ill see you then”

Word count:4.4k

masterlist ao3

Tags: super tune, kim seokjin, jin and his fish, this is the Super Tuna MV but the fish is basically y/n, I researched boat architecture for this fic, idol Jin on his day off, fishing, 

The sun hadn’t even considered rising yet when the rhythmic thumping began on your front door. It wasn't a polite knock; it was a rhythmic, confident beat that suggested the person on the other side believed they were doing you a favor by waking you up before the birds.

You groaned, pulling the duvet over your head. "Go away, Seokjin," you mumbled into your pillow.

"I can hear you through the wood!" his voice rang out, clear and bright, entirely too energetic for four in the morning. "The fish are waking up! They’re brushing their scales! They’re waiting for the World Wide Handsome guest of honor! Are you really going to make them wait?"

You stumbled out of bed, your vision blurry, and swung the door open. Kim Seokjin stood there in a vibrant, neon-orange windbreaker that could likely be seen from the International Space Station. He had a bucket hat perched precariously on his head and a grin that was far too symmetrical for this hour.

"You look like a traffic cone," you croaked, squinting at the brightness of his jacket.

He gasped, leaning back and resting a hand on his chest. "A traffic cone? This is high-fashion maritime couture, Y/N. I have to look good. If the fish see me and realize how handsome I am, they’ll jump into the boat just to get a closer look. It’s science."

"I’m pretty sure that’s not how biology works," you sighed, but you were already stepping back to let him in.

"Coffee is in the thermos, the car is packed, and I’ve already named the first three fish we’re going to catch," he said, marching into your kitchen with the authority of a ship’s captain. "Move, move, move! The tide waits for no one, and neither does Kim Seokjin!"

The engine of Jin’s SUV hummed a low, steady bassline against the silence of the sleeping city. Inside the cabin, the air smelled like expensive cologne mixed with the faint, sharp tang of the instant coffee he’d pressed into your hands the moment you’d buckled your seatbelt.

You watched the streetlights flicker past, a blur of amber against the dark blue of the 4:00 AM sky. To your left, Seokjin looked like a character pulled straight from a high-budget travel vlog. Even in the dim light of the dashboard, his profile was sharp- the kind of bone structure that seemed unfair to witness so early in the morning. He was humming a melody you didn’t recognize, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel.

"You're awfully quiet over there," he said, his voice a low vibration that seemed to fill the small space. "Is the coffee not working, or are you just overwhelmed by being in the presence of a legend so early in the day?"

"Option C," you yawned, shifting in the leather seat. "I’m wondering how you have this much energy. Did you even sleep?"

"Sleep is for people who aren't about to conquer the ocean," he declared, throwing a quick, playful wink your way. "And besides, I had to prepare. Do you know how long it takes to coordinate an outfit this vibrant? You can't just throw on neon orange; you have to earn it."

You looked at the jacket again. It really was blinding. "I’m worried the fish will see us coming from three miles away."

"That’s the point, Y/N! It’s psychological warfare. They’ll be so dazzled by the fashion that they’ll forget to swim away. It’s the Kim Seokjin Strategy."

He turned the radio up slightly- some pop song about biology was playing, who in their right mind sings about deoxyribonucleic acid this early- and for a while, the conversation drifted into the comfortable silence that only comes with years of friendship. You found yourself watching the way his expression softened when he wasn't trying to be "on." There was a quietness to him in these early hours, a version of Jin that the world rarely saw. It was the Jin who noticed when you were tired, who knew exactly how much sugar you liked in your coffee, and who had spent three weeks planning this trip just because you’d mentioned once, in passing, that you needed a break from the city.

~~~

Forty-five minutes later, you were standing on a damp wooden pier, watching Jin struggle with a massive plastic cooler. He had insisted on bringing enough food to feed a small navy, despite the fact that you were only going to be out for six hours. By the time you reached the marina, the world was beginning to wake up in shades of charcoal and violet. A thick mist rolled off the water, clinging to the docks like a damp blanket. The air was saltier here, cold enough that you could see your breath in little white puffs.

Jin was out of the car in a flash, his boots clattering on the pavement as he began unloading the "supplies."

"Stay there! Don't move!" he called out as you moved to help. "A captain does not let the guest of honor lift heavy objects. It’s bad for the aura."

You watched, leaning against the car, as he hauled a massive cooler, three tackle boxes, and four different fishing rods toward the boat. He looked ridiculous. A bright orange blur in the grey fog with a certain grace in his movements that caught you off guard. He was strong, his shoulders broad under the windbreaker, moving with a purposeful energy.

As he reached the boat, he realized the pier was slick with morning dew. He took one step, his foot slid, and for a terrifying second, he looked like a cartoon character trying to find balance on a banana peel.

"Jin!" you shouted, stepping forward.

He caught himself at the last second, gripping a wooden post with both hands, his chest heaving. Somehow, he had kept the tackleboxes safe in his arms and under his chin. He stayed frozen for a moment, then slowly turned his head to look at you. His bucket hat was slanted over one eye.

"I... I did that on purpose," he gasped, his voice cracking slightly. "I was checking the friction coefficient of the wood. It’s... it’s very low. Excellent data."

You couldn't help it. The laugh started deep in your chest and bubbled up until you were doubled over, leaning against the SUV for support. "You almost fell in before we even touched the boat!"

"Laughter is a sign of a healthy soul!" he shouted back, straightening his hat and puffing out his chest. "I’m glad I could provide you with such a high-quality soul-cleansing experience!". You finally take a look at what was so important to bring on this ship.

"Jin, do we really need a three-course meal for a fishing trip?" you asked, hoisting your own backpack.

"Fishing is 10% catching fish and 90% waiting for fish," he explained, pausing to wipe an imaginary bead of sweat from his forehead. "And if I am going to wait, I am going to wait with high-quality snacks. I have kimbap, I have fruit, and I have those little sausages you like. Don't complain when you're hungry in an hour."

"Careful," he murmured, his grip on your hand firm and warm. "The dock is slippery."

You can’t help but laugh at his pout, God how you wish you could just take his face in your hands and-

You catch yourself midthought, it is too early to be picturing that about your best friend...right?

~~~

He led you to a small, slightly weathered motorboat named The Silver Scale. Finally coming aboard, you could see that the boat itself was a modest motorboat, but to Jin, it might as well have been a luxury yacht. He spent ten minutes "inspecting" the hull, nodding solemnly as if he knew exactly what he was looking for.

"She’s sturdy," he concluded, patting the side of the boat. "She’s ready for the weight of my talent."

Helping him load the gear turned into a comedy of errors. The cooler was packed so tightly with food that the lid kept popping open, revealing his containers of kimbap, neatly sliced fruit, and- inexplicably- a bottle of sparkling cider.

"Is the cider for the fish?" you asked, handing him a tackle box.

"No, the cider is for the victory toast," he said, stowing it under a seat. "We have to manifest success, Y/N. If we act like we’ve already caught the biggest fish in the sea, the universe will provide."

Once everything was on board, he reached out his hand to help you down. The joking tone vanished for a split second. The mist was swirling around his ankles, and the first hint of orange sunlight was hitting the horizon behind him.

"The boat is a little wobbly," he warned, his voice suddenly soft and grounded. "Give me your hand."

His palm was large and warm, his grip steady as he guided you onto the deck. For a heartbeat, as you stepped down, you were standing very close to him- close enough to feel the heat radiating from his chest, close enough to see the tiny flecks of amber in his eyes.

"Got you," he whispered.

He didn't let go immediately. He waited until he was sure you had your balance, his thumb brushing almost imperceptibly against the back of your hand before he pulled away to start the engine.

"Alright!" he shouted, the engine roaring to life and breaking the spell. "Destination: Victory! Or at least, destination: Lunch!"

~~~

The Silver Scale moved further away from the coast, the shoreline becoming a thin, green ribbon against the horizon. The mist had completely burned off, replaced by a sky so blue it looked painted. Jin was at the helm, his hand resting casually on the throttle, humming along to the rhythmic slap-slap-slap of the waves against the hull.  The boat cut through the glassy water as the sky began to bleed into shades of bruised purple and gold. It was peaceful, truly. The air was cool, the water was calm, and for a few minutes, Jin was actually quiet, focused on navigating to his "secret spot."

Once the anchor was dropped, the real performance began.

"Okay, Y/N, watch the master," Jin said, picking up his expensive-looking rod. "Fishing is about grace. It’s about the flick of the wrist. It’s about-"

Thwack.

He swung the rod back with immense flair, but instead of the line soaring out into the water, there was a sharp tug. Jin stumbled forward, his neon-orange shoulder jerked backward.

"Jin?" you bit back a laugh. "What happened to the grace?"

He froze, looking over his shoulder. The hook was firmly embedded in the thick fabric of his own windbreaker, right between his shoulder blades. He looked like a moth pinned to a board.

"I was... testing the durability of the equipment," he said, his voice reaching that slightly higher pitch it hit when he was flustered. "It’s a safety check! Very important!"

"You hooked yourself," you deadpanned.

"I am the catch of the day!" he shot back, trying to reach behind his back to unhook himself. He looked like a cat chasing its own tail, spinning in small circles in the middle of the boat. "Don't just sit there laughing! Help your captain!"

You spent the next five minutes trying to extract the hook without tearing the expensive jacket, while Jin grumbled about the "aggressive aerodynamics" of the wind. By the time he was free, his hair was a mess and his bucket hat was crooked.

"Okay," he huffed, straightening his collar. "That was a warm-up. Now, for the bait."

"Now that we’re finally here," he paused for dramatic effect, "This is the spot. My grandfather told me that the fish in this specific patch of ocean are particularly sophisticated. They have refined palates. They’ll appreciate the squid."  He opened a small plastic container. The smell hit you instantly- a pungent, salty, slightly rotting aroma that made your nose crinkle.

"Ugh, Jin, what is that?"

"Premium fermented squid," he said, though even he looked a little disgusted. "The salesman said it’s irresistible."

He picked up a slimy piece of bait with two fingers, his face contorting into a mask of pure horror. "Oh... oh, it’s squishy. Why is it squishy, Y/N? It’s touching me. It’s holding my hand."

"You're the one who wanted to go fishing!"

"I wanted the aesthetic of fishing!" he cried, finally managed to impale the bait onto the hook. "I wanted the sun, the water, and the impressive photos! I didn't sign up for squid juice!"

He wiped his fingers aggressively on a rag, looking deeply offended by the entire process. "If I don't catch a shark after this, I'm suing the ocean."

"I still think they’ll just be confused by the smell," you teased, grabbing your rod.

For the next hour, it was surprisingly peaceful. You both sat on opposite sides of the boat, lines cast deep into the turquoise water. The sun was getting warmer, and Jin had shed his neon windbreaker, revealing a simple white t-shirt that showed off the impressive breadth of his shoulders- a stark reminder that beneath the "traffic cone" exterior was a man who worked incredibly hard.

"You know," Jin started, leaning back against his seat, "fishing is a lot like life. You cast your line, you wait, you hope... and most of the time, you just end up with a sunburn and a sense of regret."

"That’s surprisingly dark for you, Jin."

"I’m a deep thinker! I contain multitudes!" He gestured grandly with his free hand. "I’m like an onion. Layers, Y/N. Layers of handsomeness and wisdom."

Suddenly, his line moved. In fact, his rod didn't just twitch- it arched violently toward the water.

"OH! OH! IT’S HAPPENING!" Jin shrieked, his "deep thinker" persona evaporating instantly. He scrambled to his feet, the boat rocking precariously under his sudden movement. "It’s a monster! It’s the Kraken! It’s coming for revenge!"

He began to reel in with frantic, uncoordinated energy. The line was zipping through the water, cutting left and right. You stood up to help, but Jin waved you off with a wild look in his eyes. "No! I must face this beast alone! This is a battle of wills!"

The "beast" broke the surface about ten feet from the boat. It wasn't a shark. It wasn't even a large fish. It was a medium-sized, particularly muscular mackerel that seemed personally offended by being hooked. As Jin gave one final, Herculean heave-ho, and the fish didn't just fly out of the water- it launched itself like a silver missile.

SLAP.

The fish landed square across Jin's face, its tail flickering rapidly against his cheek.

"AHHHHHHHH!" Jin’s scream was a high-pitched, operatic masterpiece that probably could have been heard back at the marina. He stumbled backward, his arms flailing, as the wet, slimy fish slid down his face and landed with a damp thud on the deck. He froze, his hands hovering near his cheeks, his eyes wide with genuine shock.

"It... it slapped me," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Y/N. The fish. It physically assaulted the Mr. World Wide Handsome."

You were paralyzed. You were trying to breathe, but your lungs refused to work because you were laughing so hard. You had to grip the side of the boat to keep from falling overboard. "The... the look on your face..." you wheezed.

"I am a victim!" Jin shouted, though a grin was starting to break through his feigned trauma. He looked down at the mackerel, which was now flopping harmlessly near his boots. "Did you see that? It targeted me! It saw my face and thought, 'I must humiliate this beautiful man before I go.'"

He picked up a towel and wiped his face with exaggerated disgust, though he was finally starting to laugh along with you. "I'm retiring. This is it. The ocean has rejected me."

 ~~~

The sun was fully up now, turning the surface of the water into a sheet of hammered gold. The "Premium Fermented Squid" and the “Fish-ssault” incidents had been dealt with, and now, you were both settled into the rhythmic lull of the boat.

Jin sat across from you, his legs stretched out, looking surprisingly focused on his fishing line. The silence lasted exactly four minutes.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, not looking up.

"Yes, Jin?"

"Why did the fish get bad grades?"

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the edge of the boat. "I don't know, Jin. Why did the fish get bad grades?"

"Because he was below sea level!" He let out a loud, windshield-wiper laugh that echoed across the open water, startling a nearby seagull. "Get it? C-level? Sea level? Ah, I’m a genius. Even the birds are laughing."

"The birds are fleeing, Jin," you teased, but you couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips.

"They’re just going to tell their friends to come see the handsome comedian," he countered, reeling his line in an inch. "Okay, serious question. What do you call a fish with no eyes?"

"A fsh," you answered immediately.

He stopped, his mouth hanging open in mock outrage. "You’ve heard it. Someone told you. My material is being leaked! There is a spy in my circle!"

"It’s a classic, Jin! Everyone knows that one."

"Fine, fine. Try this: What do you call a wealthy fish?" He paused for dramatic effect. "A gold-fish."

"That’s actually terrible," you laughed, throwing a small piece of kimbap at his orange jacket.

"It's a masterpiece! Just like my face!" He caught the kimbap mid-air and popped it into his mouth. "See? I’m also a world-class athlete with lightning-fast reflexes."

Suddenly, your fishing rod jerked. Not a small nibble, but a genuine, heavy pull that nearly took the rod out of your hands.

"Jin! I think I have something!"

His eyes went wide, his own rod forgotten. "Wait, wait! Don't let go! Reel it in! Be the fish, Y/N! Feel its soul!" He scrambled over to your side of the boat, his hands hovering near yours on the grip. "Easy... easy... it’s a big one! It’s definitely a shark. Or a sunken treasure chest. Or a very heavy boot!"

You were laughing too hard to focus, your muscles straining against the pull. "It’s... it’s really strong!"

With one final, heave-ho tug, the line broke the surface. A small, shimmering silver fish, no longer than your hand, came flying out of the water. It landed with a wet thwack right on Jin's chest, sticking to his neon windbreaker for a split second before sliding down into his lap.

Both of you stared at the tiny creature. It flopped once, looking up at Jin with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Is... is that the shark?" you asked, breathless.

Jin looked down at the fish, then back at you. He looked genuinely moved. "Y/N... look at his face. He’s beautiful. He has my eyes."

"He's four inches long, Jin."

"He’s a fighter! He chose me!" Jin carefully cupped the fish in his hands, his expression softening into something incredibly sweet. "Hello, Little Seokjin. You are very brave to challenge the World Wide Handsome. But alas, our love is forbidden. You belong to the deep."

He leaned over the edge of the boat, gently lowering the fish back into the water. As it flicked its tail and disappeared, Jin sighed dramatically, wiping a phantom tear. "Go! Be free! Tell your friends of the man in the orange jacket who spared your life!"

~~~

The adrenaline of the "Big Catch" faded, leaving a comfortable, warm hum between you. The snacks had been eaten, the sun was high, and the boat swayed gently in the wake of a distant ship.

Jin had finally taken off the bucket hat, his dark hair messy and windswept. He looked less like a "maritime traffic cone" now and more like... just Seokjin. The man who made sure you had the best seat in the boat. The man who had been your best friend for years, hiding behind jokes so you wouldn't see how much he cared.

You realized you were staring.

"I know," he said softly, his voice dropping an octave. He wasn't looking at the water anymore; he was looking at you. "The view is incredible. It’s hard to look away from something this perfect."

Usually, this was where he’d make a joke about his own reflection. But he didn't. He just kept his eyes locked on yours.

"The water is nice, yeah," you whispered, your heart starting to race.

"I wasn't talking about the water, Y/N."

The humor that usually acted as a shield between you was gone. Jin moved closer, shifting his weight until he was sitting right next to you on the narrow bench. The boat rocked, bringing your shoulders together.

"You've been laughing at my jokes all morning," he murmured, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered there, warm against your skin. "Even the bad ones."

"Especially the bad ones," you breathed.

The sun continued its slow descent toward the afternoon, and the water turned a deeper, inkier blue. The jokes had run dry for a moment, replaced by the comfortable exhaustion that comes from too much laughter.

Jin sat down on the floor of the boat next to you, leaning his back against the side. He pulled out two sodas from the cooler, handing one to you.

"Hey," he said, his voice quiet, devoid of the usual theatricality.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming today. I know 4:00 AM is a lot to ask of someone."

"I wouldn't have done it for anyone else," you admitted, looking out at the horizon.

Jin took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze following yours. "I know I joke around a lot. I know I’m... a lot to handle sometimes. The 'WWH' stuff, the dad jokes, the screaming at fish..." He trailed off, a small, self-deprecating smile on his face. "Sometimes I think I use it as a way to make sure people are always smiling, so they don't look too closely at the person behind the noise."

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability. "Jin, you don't have to perform for me. You know that, right?"

"I know," he murmured. He reached out, his fingers tracing the pattern on the boat's floor. "But it’s scary, isn't it? Being quiet. When it’s quiet, you have to actually say what’s on your mind. And what’s on my mind is usually... complicated."

He looked up at you then, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch. The playful "traffic cone" was still gone. This was the man who stayed up late to practice his vocals until they were perfect, the man who felt the weight of being the eldest, the man who cared so deeply for his friends that it sometimes looked like it hurt.

"I brought you out here because it's the only place where the world feels small enough to manage," he said. "No cameras, no schedules, no expectations. Just the water. And you."

He paused, his thumb brushing against your wrist where it rested on the deck. "I’ve spent a lot of my life making sure everyone else is okay. Making sure the mood is light. But when I’m with you, I feel like I can just... be. I don't have to catch the biggest fish to impress you. I can get slapped in the face by a mackerel and know that you’ll still be here, laughing with me, not at me,” he said, his thumb now grazing your cheek. "I’m very good at catching things. I can catch fish. I can catch people's attention. But I’ve been trying to catch your heart for a long time, and I wasn't sure if I was using the right bait."

You let out a small, shaky laugh. "You don't need bait, Jin. You just need to be you."

Your heart felt like it was expanding, pressing against your ribs as you continued, "You never have to impress me, Seokjin. I’ve liked the 'person behind the noise' for a long time."

The silence that followed wasn't empty; it was heavy with everything neither of you had been brave enough to say in the city. The boat rocked gently, pushing you a few inches closer to him.

"For a long time?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "How long?"

"Longer than the 'Analog Records' AU," you joked weakly, trying to break the tension.

Jin laughed, but it was a soft, breathy sound. He reached out, his hand cupping the side of your face. His skin was warm, smelling of salt and sun. "Y/N, I'm a very confident man. I tell the whole world how handsome I am every single day. But right now? My heart is beating so fast I’m worried it’s going to scare the fish away."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut. "Let them be scared. I'm not going anywhere."

He leaned in, slow and deliberate, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn't. When his lips finally met yours, it wasn't chaotic or loud like the rest of the morning. It was soft, tasting of salt air and the lingering sweetness of the fruit he’d shared with you. It was a "perfectly timed" moment that had nothing to do with luck and everything to do with the man who had been waiting for this as long as you had.

When he pulled back, just an inch, he rested his forehead against yours.

"So," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. "Does this mean I get a second date? Or do I need to catch an actual shark next time?"

You laughed, pulling him back in by the collar of his ridiculous orange jacket. "No sharks. No traffic cone outfits. Just you."

"Good," he smirked, his eyes sparkling. "Because that squid bait was really starting to gross me out."

[ribbonbambisblog]

♡ Salt and Caramel ♡

Bakugo x Fem!Reader (pure fluff)

Summary: You and Katsuki are like day and night; but the thought that your differences could tear you down instead of binding you together haunts you.

a/n: strap in! this one i wrote a little longer as I got super into it. lmk what you think 🎀

You remember the stunned silence of your classmates as you’d broken the news that you and Katsuki were going on a date. The perpetual smile on your face that your classmates had gotten used to seeing, bright like the first bloom of spring, unchanging as you casually mentioned that you and Katsuki were “planning a date at the observatory”.

Anybody within earshot of the conversation was instantly blindsided, the classroom rippling with silent shock. Jaws agape. Incoherent stammers. The sound of Kaminari’s spirit taking flight, followed by the thud of his lifeless body against the desk and bubbles forming in his mouth. The bomb you just dropped, hanging heavily in the air, effortlessly weaved into conversation like you hadn’t just changed their fundamental beliefs of how the world works. It took a moment for everyone to comprehend your words (they were sure they’d somehow managed to induce a group hallucination). Even Todoroki’s stoic expression wavered slightly, etched with surprise as he tried to maintain his indifference.

You remember it all too vividly: like throwing a lit flame into a gas tank, every one of your classmates simultaneously erupting into roars of “no fucking way!” and “explain everything!” and “this is just a late April fool’s joke, right?”. The constant string of questions as to how or why you two were dating, now inescapable like an airborne virus you’d unknowingly released.

You can’t say this wasn’t half expected: it wasn’t exactly a secret that you and Katsuki were polar opposites. Even your quirks disagreed with each other.

Tenderness embroidered on your heart, hostility branded on his.

But even so, despite the brave smile feigned at your classmates, nothing could really alleviate the sting of over-hearing your classmates describe your relationship which was sure to end up like “a hammer falling on glass.”

So when the date you’d so helplessly been looking forward to rolled around, the knot in your chest was indistinguishable from excitement and dread.

Whether it was the constant, subtle doubts of your classmates gently reminding you that “you might not be the best fit for each other”, or the fact that you two had already spent an entire day deciding on a suitable meet-up place that you’d both enjoy for your date only served as a reminder that you two really had no common interests.

“Are you fuckin’ alright?”

The sound of Katsuki’s gruff voice broke through the worry induced state you were in, your distant gaze focusing on him as you snapped back to reality, falling back in step with him as you walk alongside the edge of the observatory.

“Huh? Oh, right”, you respond, clearing your throat. “I’m fine, thank you.”

You lied smoothly, not wanting to bring the mood of the date down (it was already in the gutters– you were hardly responsive, and even accidentally ignored him at one point), but you just couldn’t help but dwell on the thoughts that plagued you. Words of your classmates echoing in your ears: “they’re like oil and water”.

“Are you sure? Cause your brain clearly checked out 5 minutes ago.”

“Do you think we’re not.. Alike.. Enough?”

You ask finally, the words finally bubbling up enough in your chest to spill over. His brows furrow, not out of annoyance, but out of concern (which isn’t really discernable from each other on his face, anyway), jaw tightening at your words.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I mean.. Just look at us, Katsuki,”

You say, eyes flicking between the two of you. His vermillion eyes follow suit, scanning your figure, which is dressed in a vibrant display of colours, hues of pink and orange entwined across your body. And then to his own outfit, resembling what could only be compared to a black hole. He couldn’t deny the fact that to anybody else, the pairing probably looked odd. Your outfit practically emitted light, whilst his consumed it.

But –and it was something he didn’t know how to admit to you– the fact that you were so damn different from him made him drawn to you in a way he couldn’t quite understand.

To him, you were the epitome of serenity. Even his noise fell silent beside you, and he wondered how somebody could carry themself with such delicacy.

With you, he learnt that patience could rival brute force.

“We’re different. So what?”

He responds nonchalantly, like he’s aware of the fact, but not bothered by it.

“Maybe we’re too different.”

He grunts in response, hands still shoved into his sides like he’s trying to find the right words to respond in his pockets.

“Maybe we are,” he starts, and you worry at how he could be so casual over something you can’t seem to shake. “Maybe it ain’t such a bad thing.”

You pause– physically pause, your body coming to a halt at his words. You feel your words catch in your throat. Not knowing how to respond, or even how to react.

“You’ve taught me shit I’ve never thought of, y’know? It’s.. refreshing.”

He grumbles, stopping in front of you. His voice lacking its usual sharpness; no cocky quip on his tongue. No trace of sarcasm or a smart remark like expected.

“I never thought of it like that.”

You’d never considered that he feels the clash between you two –like flint and steel– and enjoys the sparks. Embraces them. Truthfully, despite your differences, you can’t deny that it's so compelling to be around somebody who’s so unapologetically loud; like he knows he deserves space and isn’t afraid to take it. Every blunt remark he makes; met with a warm smile of understanding and genuine appreciation.

“We’re like salt and caramel."

His words come out clear; spoken like a hymn, intentional and carrying a quiet power that makes you unravel. Because even though the fact that the pairing of you two is unexpected, there’s something so magnetic about the way you two are so incongruous.

Contradictory. Conflicting. Complimentary.

And so damn electrifying.

[bellesdomain]

So these Auctioned Costumes...

When Cats closed in London, they had 21 years worth of old costumes hanging about in the theatre. The best condition costumes were set aside for the upcoming UK Tour; then the cast were allowed to take whatever they wanted as memorabilia; then the crew were allowed to take anything left. That effectively emptied out the wardrobe and wigs dept! So, there are a lot of vintage London costumes legitimately in private hands. A lot of people intentionally took costumes as investments - with the plan to sell off in years to come. And so it came to pass.

What's been sold off this week is clearly a serious collection. But it's most bizarre - there's immediately recognisable late London costumes, some I literally saw onstage in 2001, 2002; there's some much older looking costumes; some real head-scratchers; and some very basic amateur unitards mixed in!

Starting with the unitards - We have lovely, clear, labelled, late London unitards. Peter Polycarpou's Asparagus (he was fantastic but broke his leg onstage as Growltiger!) Kenny Linden's Admetus. Adrian Edmeades' Mungojerrie. But the tan unitard, and the two white ones, are commercial zip-back unitards with minimal customisation, tails sewn on. Those three are NOT authentic London stage-used costumes.

Next we have a beautiful Jellylorum - Summer Strallen's Jellylorum, I don't know if she ever went on as Jelly, this costume is possibly unworn! It was sold next to a Rumpus Cat - without his bib at all... and the third unitard is *OLD*. The way it's so long and thin - that spandex has lost all stretch, the actual spandex fibres have perished leaving just the nylon (never use fabric softener on spandex, it makes this happen much faster!) The feet of the unitard show that it is a custom built show costume - the wide neckline is interesting though, maybe he's an Asparagus, so the neckline would be under his ruff?

Then we have another Rumpus Cat - with velcro for the "R" patch, and visible damage to the fabric around the velcro. The teeth of the velcro snag on the spandex and chew it up. I wish I knew more about how Rumpus' costume was built! The earliest sightings of Alonzo show him wearing much like the Rumpus on the right, with the black velcro.

The Misto song costume is also very interesting - black velour sleeveless suit with the bib fluff sewn onto the velour. I am lucky enough to have a late London Misto song costume (how I know for sure how these costumes were handled) and my little Misto has the torso from an ensemble costume - painted spandex with the fluff - sewn to black velour leggings. Of course this goes under the jacket so only the top of the fluff is visible, but it makes me wonder how old this auction item is....

Tantomile - Summer strallen's unitard. Beautiful, vibrant, distinctive, well labelled costume! Next is a Hench-cat, quick change costume. Super rare to get a good look at them! Next to him is one that I don't know how many people would recognise - the only London character who wasn't included in the 1998 video, Victor! Although he's lost his feet, and therefore the specific identification, he's clearly a later costume, nice and bright and immediately identifiable.

Tugger Basic unitard shows an interesting detail - his arms remained so much brighter gold than his chest and legs! I'd hazard a guess that this is from the friction of the mane and socks during the show gradually working the dyes around, but the sleeves don't get rubbed as much? Stori James Coricopat is another lovely bright costume, not an exact twin to Summer's Tantomile though, interesting how the orange is such a different shade!

The third unitard here though, this one had stumped me. It's clearly a very old costume, not as worn out as the Old Cat but getting there. But who is it? The sparse fluffies look like the style from the late 80s... my best guess is a VERY old Admetus... maybe even Summer Strallen's father?

(Cherida Langford and Sandy Strallen)

This lot consisted of two Mungojerrie shirts - and this mystery cap/mask? The fact that it comes down over the eyes makes me wonder if it was intended for Macavity, but I've got no photo references of anything like this in London. But it's not a low-effort make, this much texture and detail took time. It's not from the same production house as the unitards above... Mystery piece!

These four lots - collars, gloves, tails, warmers - are just delicious. So many textures and details!

These four masks are intriguing... using feathers? Feathers - as these show - are not a great option for details onstage like this, they get very shabby very fast, and can't be washed. These masks could? be Macavity decoys? from the early years of the show... but they could just as likely be from... wherever the other weird bits and bobs came from! Maybe the original Macavity mask did have feathers in the detail? Or I could be seeing what I want to see with the low quality.

Tugger mane looks very tatty here, as a maker I find it fascinating but he's not looking as fabulous as he originally did! But it's interesting how we have the shapes of jacket lapels and collar underneath the fluff. It was sold with what looks like a chunk of the Gumbie Cat coat tail - just a chunk with velcro sewn on... was it collar? And some scraps of patterned fabric and feathers. This looks more like a literal cat toy than something from the show. The mixture of authentic London production and odd bits is so confusing....

This is the most mysterious of all to me! A lot of work went into this costume, and the technique of weaving the coloured stripes into machine knitting look the same as used on warmers (I think, knitting's not my strong point) It was sold as Gumbie Cat dress and legwarmers - but every photo we have of the Gumbie costume in London does not match.

I did wonder if maybe, it's not Gumbie, but actually Growltiger? But I really don't think so... While he was knitted, with legwarmers, and mostly horizontal stripes with vertical stripes on the hem - it really doesn't feel right. So, I don't know where this comes from!

Finally, there's a selection of wigs... I'll do a separate post for them!

[jokeb0i-art]

hello I just came from youtube, your work is really cool!

do you have tips for improving with color please? Like how did you learn to pick and use them? i particularly love the way you do your lighting.

I yearn to use fun colors, but i struggle a lot with understanding theory and all that jazz. I also draw comics and always end up with boring and muddy colors for my scenes. Like if I try to deviate from "normal" it doesn't look coherent, especially with night scenes or like anything with unnatural light.

I'm guessing you take a lot of inspiration from classic comics, but do you have maybe classes or coloring exercises that you've done? thank you <3

honestly, my color journey is still ongoing, but the biggest piece of advice I have is to study other peoples work and use slightly de-saturated colors most of the time

I think most people aim to make colors pop by using lots of super bright / super saturated tones, but colors pop best when something vibrant is juxtaposed against something duller and darker, I use that trick a lot to make my work seem very bright and colorful in general

also don’t be afraid to push colors to their limits, a desaturated blue can pass for green in some contexts, purple can pass as brown, light orange for yellow or pink for orange, this is something that takes some practice to utilize, but it can make coloring so much more fun

also, you can push all or most of your colors towards a certain spot on the color wheel, like a tint, if you use a shade of yellow that’s closer to green, use a shade of blue that’s closer to green as well, or a red that’s more orange than pink, this one’s tough to explain, but if you mess around in a drawing program you’ll get what I mean