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elfqueen006 · 17 days

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Take Me Into Your Room

Sunny Day Jack x May-Rose (OC)

Note: This is a draft for a long fic I titled "Chasing Rainbows." It may or may not appear in the story, depending on where I take the story.

---

Jack had been invited to the bed today, and boy, was he eager to be welcomed. His eyes glistened like a kid in the candy store as he looked around. May was currently in the bathroom fixing herself up for bed. So, Jack – feeling like he had limited time to put use this privilege – covered ground as much as he could.

May had a somewhat cluttered room. It was organized to a degree. She had a large pile of stuffed animals in the corner of her room that tumbled over to the left side of her bed. Next to the doorway of the bathroom, sat a little workspace, set up as a desk with an open sketchbook on top of it. He looked inside, just at the open pages. There was a doodle of what looked like the cup designs in Popov’s Yogurtopia and a little body underneath. On the walls were band posters (they were way after his time, but he could tell what they were) and shelves that held glittery big-eyed beanie babies and Care Bears.

It made him feel bad to think so, but May didn’t strike him as a person with “soft-oriented” interests. She struck him initially, as someone who was very mature. Not that it exempted her hobbies in the slightest. It surprised him, but he was delighted nonetheless. Many people in their adult life seem to just give up on their interests for the sake of seeming and feeling like an adult. They would have hobbies, but it extended as far as cooking, sewing, or watching TV. And they were fun on their own, but they were the rule. The accepted and seen as suitable.

That wasn’t what being an adult was supposed to be at all! There wasn’t even a right way to do so, in fact. Who says being an adult means depriving yourself of being childish and fun? Certainly not Jack. And he didn't want to toot his own horn, but he considered himself very fun.

He flinched when he heard May’s footsteps. Without anything else to do he just stood awkwardly as she came outside. He heard her stop beside him.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

She was wearing a headwrap with floral print with a large-ish band tee that stopped over her waist. He didn’t see any shorts to speak of.

Jack gave a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just taking a look around. I hope that was okay?”

She gave him a blank stare with her catlike green eyes. He wet his lips and gave a quick glance at her work desk. “You have great sketches!”

“Ugh!” May was quick to pass him and slam the book closed. “You went through my stuff?!”

“No, no! It was already open! And I only saw the two pages that were.”

May flipped through the book, checking for any new creases or tampering. Though the book was weathered, she handled it with care and could tell when it was messed with. Of course, she found no such signs. Though she narrowed her eyes at him and smacked the book lightly against his chest. “This is off limits.” she said.

Jack nodded obediently.

Plopping the book down on her desk, May sauntered over to her bed and her shirt flew up as she threw herself over it. Ah. Turns out she was wearing shorts. They were just thin and elastic, though not nearly long enough to cover the round, voluptuous pair of cheeks that held at her lower back.

She landed on the left side of the bed and sighed, smiling as she spread her arms and legs out on the comforter. Jack remained where he was. He twiddled his thumbs, looking between the floor and the bed.

“You coming in or ain’t you?” May asked.

Jack perked up and immediately made his way over to the bed. He eased himself onto it and felt around on the comforter, his smile growing. He lied back, staring at the ceiling a good while and then rolled on his side, giggling as he burrowed his face into the pillow.

Normally, the sight of a grown man being so enthusiastic at the comfort of her bed would have put her off. But she couldn’t help but smirk in amusement. Jack was so unreal-ly whimsical. Like something out of a Spielberg or unheard of Disney Channel movie. Especially when he smiled. He was handsome. Charming even.

She almost didn’t care he had on his jacket and shoes in her bed.

He opened his eyes and wet his lips, “Sorry for looking in your sketchbook.” he apologized softly.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay… you seemed pretty upset and I didn’t want to offend you.”

“It’s squashed.”

He gave a relieved sigh, and just like that he was hugged up against her pillows again.

“I’d think you never had a bed before, let alone slept in one.” May said.

“Well, you have been making me sleep on the couch,” Jack replied, “which is fine! It’s your house and all… but personally, I don’t really recommend them for sleeping.”

May hummed in agreement, “I get it. It makes my neck ache sometimes.”

Jack propped his head on his arms, “Do you sleep on it often?”

“Only on the weekends.” May replied, “Usually… anyway, I spend most of it binging my favorite TV shows and then I’m just” she clicks her tongue, “out.”

“That’s not healthy.” Jack stated.

“Yeah, I know, but I deserve to veg out. I work myself to death at work – unpaid, by the way.”

Jack gave her an incredulous look, “That’s not healthy either!” he said with a bit of laughter. May can’t help but laugh with him.

“Hey, if I want to bum out on the couch all weekend after working for shit pay from my ain’t shit boss, that is my business, sir!”

They both laugh a while, reach a lull in the conversation, then fall asleep. At least, May does. Throughout the night, Jack can’t help but think to himself about what May told him. He hoped she wasn’t serious about her work schedule. By now, he knew she had a habit of being sarcastic, but she rarely exaggerated.

‘She’s stuck,’ Jack concluded, ‘stuck and tired. She doesn’t know how to change things for the better. But I swear I’ll help her!”

If she let him help anyway. It would take a while, but she would come around. They were in this together. What were friends for after all?

#somethings wrong with sunny day jack #sunny day jack fanfiction #sunny day jack #sunny day jack x mc #sunny day jack x oc #Ch: May-Rose #sdj oc #black!oc #visual novel #my fics

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Ever in Your Favor, Chapter Four (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: The Games grow closer, and so do Denali and Rosé as they start their plan, finally going public at the interviews.

A/N: I know it's been a while, but I'm so happy to be back to this fic! Thank you all so much for the love and support, not just on this fic but in general, with everything going on lately. It really means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please leave some feedback if you'd like!

Read on AO3.

Rosé is early to dinner that night, because Denali’s words had gotten to her. She wasn’t just letting Denali down. She was letting herself down, both the younger version of herself who wanted to protect Jan and go home, and herself now, who still wants to go home. She has to help Denali, or it could kill them both. Just because she couldn’t save the tributes she mentored doesn’t mean she can’t save herself now. She can’t go into the Games blind, as much as she wanted to hide behind her sword and snarky comments, and it took Denali—someone Rosé had mentored and given advice to—to help her see it.

And it’s brought them to pretending they’re in love for Capitol favor. It’s a good idea, admittedly. So good Rosé wishes she’d thought of it. There’s nothing the audience loves more than drama, and this is the best you could get.

But alliances are hard, and an alliance with someone she knows is even riskier. Maybe this isn’t a good idea, because what if they work so well together that they’re the last tributes standing? If Denali is the only thing between Rosé and home, can she kill her? Can she kill a friend, someone she’d tried so hard to keep alive in her last Games? Can she--

“Rosé. You’re…early.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Rosé mumbles as Denali sits across from her.

“It’s a nice surprise,” Denali says, and Rosé takes it.

“So, about this plan…” Rosé is ready to suggest calling it off. But Denali tucks her hair behind her ears, and it makes her look so young, so hopeful, and Rosé can’t take her hope. Not when the world has taken so much already, leaving the energetic, fun-loving Denali in the dust. However risky the alliance is, they’re stronger together. Her close-combat skills perfectly balance Denali’s bow and speed. Together, they could really do this, and Rosé lets the strangeness of hope bloom in her chest.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Rosé says quickly. “I think we’ll be great.”

Denali beams as they browse their menus, food rushing up into the compartment next to them.

Rosé grabs the pickle off her plate. “Want this?”

“Sure.” Denali crunches happily. “Why’d you get it if you don’t like it?”

“Because I was pretty sure you liked them.”

Denali points at Rosé in approval. “See, you’re already doing relationship stuff. We got this.”

Rosé nods, but she wasn’t thinking about the fake relationship. She just wanted to see Denali happy.

---

Denali goes to meet their stylist with dread pooling in her stomach at what horrible outfits they’ll be forced into. Each district’s outfits represent their industries, which means District 1 glimmers in jewels and District 12, shafted as always, resembles a coal miner. It’s the same every year. Today, though, a new stylist sits among racks of clothes in the dressing room. She’s young, with soft skin that absolutely glows. She introduces herself as Symone, and somehow Denali hopes she might not look like an idiot this year.

“First year as a stylist?” Denali asks while Symone takes her measurements. She does her best not to flinch, reminding herself Symone’s hands aren’t an attacker’s hands.

“Yep,” Symone says. “About damn time. I’ve been trying for years, but sometimes people aren’t ready for real talent, you know?”

Denali laughs despite herself.

“I hope so,” Rosé says. “Because no offense, Symone, if you want me to wear another coal miner outfit, I’ll go out there naked.”

Denali’s cheeks are on fire, brain short-circuiting at the image of Rosé’s words.

Symone just laughs. “Well, as fun as that might be, I’d never put you in something that ugly. I’m breaking the rules a little this year.”

“What do you mean?” Denali asks.

“I think the outfits should be less about the district and more about you, since this year’s Games are about the victors. Let the Capitol see not just where you’re from, but who you are.”

Where she’s from is who Denali is--the coal dust coating everything in town; the hungry eyes of nearly everyone she passes; the harsh winters burrowing in raggedy blankets--but she gets what Symone is saying. Instead of being another faceless statistic from a district the Capitol owns, let them see Denali and everything she is.

“What did you have in mind?”

Symone almost drops her sketchbook in excitement. “Well, you both had animal nicknames in the Games, did you notice? The Lion and the Fox. I want to play with that, do some animal-inspired stuff to reference your history and present you as a union. One, instead of two.”

Denali meets Rosé’s eyes. It’s almost eerie how it worked out, how easy it’ll be to present themselves as a pair in Symone’s outfits. Like it was meant to be.

“Do you not like the idea?” Symone asks in worry, mistaking their silence.

“No, I love it! It’s brilliant, Symone,” Rosé says quickly. She’s such a big sister, Denali thinks fondly. She always praised Jan and Lagoona for their drawings no matter how hideous they were. Symone’s sketches, though, are some of the most beautiful things Denali’s seen, and she has no trouble nodding her approval.

“Great.” Symone beams. “I have samples for you to try on, to test colors and stuff.”

Rosé goes first, disappearing behind a wooden screen and returning in a ruffly pink dress, arms twisting all over to find the zipper among the ruffles.

“I got it,” Denali says. She pulls the zipper, not breathing as her hand runs up the curve of Rosé’s spine, letting her touch linger.

Symone shifts ruffles aside and takes more measurements, continuing as Rosé tries on dress after dress, with sequins and stripes and even more ruffles.

“Do a spin!” Denali says.

Rosé rolls her eyes, but she does, her red hair waving behind her as she twirls.

“Faster!”

Rosé laughs and keeps going until she stumbles, and Denali doesn’t even think before reaching out to catch her, running her hands up and down Rosé’s sides.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Denali stammers as Rosé retreats behind the screen.

“This should be illegal,” Rosé mutters, emerging in a hot-pink zebra dress with matching hat.

Denali can’t resist her laughter. “You look like Manila!”

“Shit, Denali, don’t tell me that. Let me pretend it’s not that bad.”

“Trust the process, darling!” Symone says grandly.

“Easy for you to say,” Rosé grumbles.

Denali laughs again.

“Just wait, Denali. It’s your turn, and I can’t wait to call you Manila.” Rosé’s smirk is too adorable for Denali to care about what’s coming.

Sure enough, Denali’s paraded behind the screen and given a bundle of clothes. There’s a neon nightmare, with green pants and a yellow shirt, plus a glittery orange jacket with puffy sleeves. Rosé laughs and teases her and frees her from a skin-tight red dress, and Denali gives in to it. The Games are days away, and who knows if she’ll have fun like this again. It’s nice to have her biggest worry be dresses, and she finds herself striking ridiculous poses to hear Rosé laugh and see her smile. It’s been years since they've laughed or smiled this much, and Denali’s going to treasure each one.

Symone ushers them into a group hug, and Denali can’t believe how good it feels, arms intertwined, warm bodies pressed together. She’s really missed hugs all this time on her own.

“You two are perfect,” Symone says. “With my outfits, you’ll be the talk of the Capitol.”

“As long as there’s no zebra print,” Rosé says, and Denali spends the day wishing she could hug her again.

---

The days go too fast.

Rosé hates this place, but now she’d give anything to stay at the Training Center, working out and eating with Denali, rather than go to the arena. She feels like a kid dreading being dragged back to school after summer vacation. She’s been talking to Denali more, bantering back and forth, and she’s starting to like it. But this, like summer, has to end.

They prowl around the training room every day, getting stronger, faster, better. When Denali hisses for Rosé to watch her, make the contestants see how in love they are, the command is useless. Because Rosé already can’t look away from her arms pulling the bowstring taut, how she nods to herself as she aims and lets the arrow fly, a bull’s-eye in each target. Her cheer and hug are genuine, and she revels in the surprised looks on the tributes’ faces.

They eat together every day, passing food back and forth for each other to try, working their way down the menu. Denali laughs until she cries after tricking Rosé into eating chicken in a sauce so spicy Rosé gulps down a gallon of water, and Rosé gets revenge by telling Denali to press a shower button that produces fruity bubbles, bursting into laughter when Denali shows up to breakfast smelling like a perfume store exploded on her.

And it continues, day after day, until other tributes watch them in envy, until Rosé doesn’t have to tell Denali to fake laugh at something she said, because she trusts Denali enough to say it, and Denali likes it enough to laugh.

---

The first sign of the end is their private sessions with the Gamemakers, where they show their skills and get a score. The score doesn’t mean much--people average in the sixes, and a lot purposely act mediocre to fly under the radar. The arena is a great equalizer, and Rosé’s seen tributes score a nine and die the first day. She won with a score of seven. Part of her wants to beat that score now. Plus, with her and Denali playing the romance angle, all eyes will be on them anyway. What’s the harm in Rosé showing off, getting a high score that reinforces how good she is?

There’s no point appearing weak on purpose, and Rosé enters the training room confidently. A dozen Gamemakers have a long table set up on the track, food spread from end to end, forks in hand.

“Sorry to interrupt lunch,” Rosé calls to them. “Think you could make me a take-out box?”

The group jumps, and Rosé snorts when one woman spills wine on herself.

“Go ahead,” a man says, his gaze on the basket of rolls.

Rosé sighs, and she takes the anger boiling in her and uses it like Denali said. She annihilates a training dummy with her sword, then grabs three knives and makes three bulls-eye’s on the wall target. She does the same with three spears, the little red circle not even visible around her accuracy.

The same man dismisses her, and Rosé leaves without another word, annoyed and clueless on what her score will be.

Denali paces the hall outside. She looks expectantly at Rosé, who shrugs.

“They’re having lunch,” Rosé says. “They barely paid attention. But you make them pay attention, okay? I believe in you. Good luck.”

Denali smiles and heads in. Rosé can’t hear anything, but Denali comes out much faster than she did, breathing sharply.

“I fucked up,” Denali says, pacing circles and wringing her hands. “Shit, I fucked up.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Rosé soothes. “What happened?”

Denali mumbles something that sounds like shot an arrow at the Gamemakers.

Rosé blinks. “Did you say you shot an arrow at the Gamemakers?”

Denali hums miserably.

“What happened?”

Denali huffs, coming to a stop. “They weren’t paying attention! Someone brought out a roast pig, and they were literally slicing it while I practiced. So I took an arrow and shot the apple out of the pig’s mouth.”

Rosé bursts into laughter. “That’s so badass!”

“No!” Denali shakes her head, and Rosé sees fear in her eyes. “Rosé, I’m sorry. They’re probably gonna punish you because of me and make things extra miserable for us in the arena.”

“Like they aren’t gonna do that already?” Rosé asks, and Denali cracks a smile. Rosé’s touched that she’s Denali’s first concern, but she won’t let her worry. “Look, it’s fine. They’re supposed to watch you, and they didn’t. That’s on them. I’m not worried, Denali. It’ll be okay.”

Denali nods.

“How did they react?” Rosé asks, because Denali needs more cheering up, more reassurance that she hasn’t done any harm.

“Well, one lady dropped her wine glass. One guy spit out his roll. Another actually screamed and tipped over in his chair.” Denali cackles, and Rosé joins her, laughing until their stomachs hurt. It really is okay.

And when they each receive scores of ten that night, Rosé believes it.

---

Denali’s gotten so used to training that she could pretend the Games weren’t coming. Until it's interview day, with the Games the next morning. The countdown is officially at hours instead of days, and her stomach churns like waves.

She grunts her way through the prep, a trio of people waxing her and fixing her nails, like preparing a doll for the Capitol children. At least it keeps her mind off things. Like how Rosé feels like a friend again, like when Denali and Jan and Lagoona would run up to her after school, babbling about a million things and begging for gossip on the older kids. Like how they both earned the highest tribute scores, labelling them as threats, and how Denali almost likes being seen as a threat. Like how tonight, they’re going to confirm their ‘relationship’ on live television. There’s no turning back, and she almost wishes Rosé was here instead of in her own prep room. At least Denali wouldn’t feel as alone. It’s strange how quickly she’s come to enjoy talking with Rosé again, when they’ve barely talked all their years as mentors, everything they share just too wide a bridge to cross. But they’ve crossed it now, and having Rosé again was worth the journey.

Symone runs in, a beautiful turquoise dress flowing behind her, and helps Denali into her outfit. It’s softer on her skin than the scratchy burlap she’d worn eleven years ago, and Denali hopefully peeks in the mirror.

She’s gorgeous.

The dress is long and white, made of tiny strands of fabric that reflect the light and twinkle in every color of the rainbow, like sun bouncing off gleaming snow. Like the fur of a white fox.

“Do you like it?” Symone asks.

“Holy shit,” Denali mutters, and it’s answer enough.

“I’m gonna get Rosé,” Symone says, but Denali hardly hears her. She can’t look away from how beautiful she looks, with her dress and pale blue eyeshadow and her hair in its familiar braid. She’s the Fox.

And Rosé is the Lion.

Denali gasps when she sees Rosé’s golden dress, the fabric shifting under the light and revealing soft tones of amber. The lion pin over her heart is a little too beat-up to shine, but it does anyway. She’s beautiful, beautiful in a way Denali can’t ignore anymore, beautiful in a way that Denali never wants to look away from again.

“You look amazing,” Rosé says, watching Denali with wondrous eyes.

“So do you.”

Symone hugs them, and they head to their chariot.

Denali hated this last time. Her fellow tribute was bigger than her, and they were stuffed into this thing, Denali crammed against the side trying not to fall out. And she was in a hideous coal miner outfit on top of it.

Tonight, she’s in control, and she's beautiful. The chariots pull through the City Circle one by one, past masses of people. It’s the biggest crowd Denali’s ever seen, a blur of color and cheers. The crowd is screaming when District 1 pulls out, and they don’t let up for District 12. People are already rooting for them, and it’s so bright, so loud. Almost too much. Rosé stiffens beside her and Denali knows she’s thinking the same thing. But they have to do this. Denali squeezes Rosé’s hand, the touch easing the ringing in her ears.

“Don’t let go of me,” Denali whispers.

Rosé doesn’t.

---

After the chariots, they’re lined up by the stage. District 12 is last of course, and Denali has to listen to 22 other tributes be charming and witty and lovely. Nina West, the Capitol interviewer, is unavoidable in a rainbow dress, and Denali winces against its brightness. She wishes a quiet good luck to Rosé before she takes the stage.

Rosé waltzes on stage with the spin Denali made her do in the dressing room and becomes a star in an instant, joking about how the Capitol just had to have her back, about how she still presses the wrong shower buttons and filled the room with bubbles last night, and everyone rolls with laughter. But when Nina’s face turns serious, Denali knows the tide has turned.

“Now, you volunteered for your sister last time.”

“Right,” Rosé says quietly, and Denali remembers her saying that she didn’t want anyone using Jan against her.

“I see you’re wearing her pin again.”

Rosé nods. “I gave it to her as a birthday gift when she was a kid. When I said goodbye, she gave it to me and made me promise to bring it home to her. To me, it’s...it’s a symbol of love and home.”

It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop. People volunteering like Rosé is extremely rare. Denali remembers how people back home had whispered about her last time. Some people called her selfish, said she was the oldest daughter and shouldn’t have left her parents. Some said she was an idiot and should have sent her sister to the Games, a pig to the slaughter, and counted herself lucky that she was spared. But many people, Denali included, thought that Rosé was brave, almost certainly saving her sister’s life even at the risk of her own. A kind of brave, a kind of love, that you don’t see much anymore. Everyone in the Capitol held the same belief, and it was why they loved her so much, in awe of her devotion and kindness. Why they love her still, if the adoring gazes are any indication.

“And did you make the same promise this time?” Nina asks.

“I did.”

Nina nods solemnly. “It’s wonderful to hear about your family.” Her smile is genuine, and Denali wonders how someone so nice ended up doing this. “While we're on the subject, is there anyone special back home?”

Denali holds her breath. This is it, practically served on a platter. All Rosé has to do is take it.

And boy, does she.

She smiles mischievously, fixing her hair while the audience holds their breath, wondering if she’s taken or if they somehow have a chance with her.

“Well, Nina, I do have someone. Except she’s not home.”

Nina’s eyes light up. “Are you saying--”

Rosé nods. “Yes. The woman I love came here with me.”

People actually scream. Some gasp, some cheer, while Nina tries to hush them and ask Rosé more questions. Even Denali smiles in surprise and she knows the camera catches it. Rosé is every inch the lovestruck woman she needs to be, and Denali listens as she explains how they’d gotten together.

“Denali was like a little sister to me, you know? She was best friends with my sister Jan, and they were always following me around. Little terrors,” she jokes, and the audience laughs. “She was always so funny, so strong and brave. I saw that firsthand when I mentored her. She’s amazing, isn’t she? Everything she does with her bow--I’d poke my eye out.” Another laugh, more smiles. Rosé’s face softens as she continues. “We lived nearby after the Games, but I always kept my feelings secret. I was just too afraid to tell her. But after the Quell, I had to. We stayed awake all night on the train here, and I finally told her. We agreed to work together for the Games, and Denali...she gives me a lot of hope going into them.”

The crowd is on their feet, clamoring for more, but they’re past the time limit, and Rosé exits to applause that goes on for over a minute.

By the time Denali takes the stage, they’re absolutely rabid. Nina asks her basic questions first, stringing things along and making everyone wait. Denali has no idea what she answers, because she’s still reeling from Rosé’s interview, goosebumps on her arms at how much Rosé admires her. She sounded so genuine. Someone hopelessly in love and afraid to confess her feelings, finally doing so in the face of danger. It didn’t happen, there was no love confession on the train, but Denali almost feels like there was, because Rosé made it that real. But this is just a game; she can’t forget that, no matter how in love Rosé seemed. They’re just friends.

“Now, I have to ask what we’re all waiting for.” Nina’s cheerful voice cuts through her thoughts. “Tell us about you and Rosé!”

Denali puts on a smile. “Well, like she said, me and her sisters followed her around all the time. We probably were little terrors.” Nina smiles, and the crowd follows. “I always admired her. I watched her Games all day and night, because I just had to see her win,” Denali says, heart tingling at the memory of her joy when Rosé won. “And then I had her as a mentor, and she helped me so much, with whatever I needed. She never gave up on me, and that respect and awe I had for her turned to love over the years. I didn’t know she felt the same way.”

The words feel real, simple and close enough to the truth to be believable. Denali smiles and bats her eyelashes, a woman in love. Nothing is a lie except for the love part, and Denali could leave it at that, but a memory pops into her head. One to really seal the deal, a thought she hates an instant later, because Rosé is her friend, not just some pawn.

“When I was eleven, my father got hurt. He was fine, but he was out of work for a few weeks, and things were...hard. I was really upset. And Rosé—I don’t even know if she remembers this—she stuck a cookie in my bag every day on the way to school. Just to help me feel a little better. She never brought it up, never wanted attention or thanks for it. She just wanted to help.”

Denali swallows as the audience awws. The camera is surely panning to Rosé, but Denali can’t look at her. The memory hit harder than she expected. She never lets herself remember it, because she hates even acknowledging that she’d needed charity. But it was never like that with Rosé. She never made it seem like charity, never wanted power over Denali by helping her. Rosé just wanted to help. She’s the only person who ever helped Denali when she was a kid, and real tears prickle in her eyes.

“I never forgot that,” Denali continues. “It shows how kind and caring she is. That’s why I fell in love with her.”

Nina wipes her eyes. Everyone is yelling their names, clapping and blowing kisses, and Denali knows.

They’ve won this round.

Game, set, match.

---

Rosé can’t sleep.

It should come easy, after how well the interviews went, how beloved they’ve become overnight. Yet it’s 1am and sleep isn’t coming. She can’t spend another minute in this room, staring at the ceiling and suffocating under thousand-thread-count sheets. She heads to the common room on their floor, and she’s not the only one awake.

Denali’s on the couch, watching footage from her Games.

“Can’t sleep either?” Denali guesses, turning off the TV.

Rosé shakes her head. “Okay if I sit?”

Denali nods, and Rosé takes the end of the couch, afraid to breach the gap between them even if she wants to, wants to feel someone human near her before tomorrow. But they’re not on camera, and maybe Denali won’t want that.

“Does it get tiring?” Rosé asks suddenly.

“What?”

“Watching the Games over and over. Your workouts,” Rosé explains. She never talks about the Games--hell, until this year she’s never talked about anything big with Denali. But something is coming undone in Rosé tonight. Maybe the threat of tomorrow. Maybe how close she and Denali have become. Maybe how everything she said about Denali on stage is lingering in her heart. Maybe how Denali remembered Rosé’s childish attempts to help her with cookies all those years ago, how Rosé’s heart warms at the memory. Whatever the reason, the words are flying out past everything Rosé uses to keep them inside.

“Does it get tiring trying to ignore it all?” Denali doesn’t sound mean, just curious.

“Yes,” Rosé says bluntly. “I just...wouldn’t know what else to do.”

She learned early on that the only way to get out of bed and function was to put all the thoughts and feelings and horrors of the Games deep inside herself, seal them tight, and pretend they weren’t there. They come back sometimes. In nightmares. In certain smells that take her back to the arena, muscles instantly clenching. In the time she got a papercut and was frozen in place when Lagoona found her, because of the blood, the blood. But for the most part, she has a handle on things. Living like Denali--going on runs, watching the footage, talking about it constantly--would just be inviting it in, breaking the seal on the memories. And that’s undoubtedly worse than Rosé’s method of dealing.

“It gets tiring for me too sometimes,” Denali admits, playing with the couch cushion. “I guess I’m trying to fight it. Like if I keep running, memorize the Games, then I’ll beat it and it can’t hurt me.”

“Does it work?”

Denali just shrugs.

“Sometimes I think they want us to forget,” Rosé says. She’s never voiced it to anyone, but she’s safe with Denali.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean …” Rosé tugs on her shirt, exposing her left shoulder. “In my Games, that boy’s axe got me here. I felt it, Denali. My shoulder was torn open, the blood was everywhere. I woke up in the hospital without a mark on me.”

“My knee too,” Denali says quietly. “I saw the bone when it happened, and now there’s nothing. Like it never happened. It just gets stiff sometimes.”

“It’s like the Capitol wants us to fear the Games, but forget how bad they were. They erase the scars and give us nice houses and expect us to be grateful. Perfect little victors,” Rosé spits. There’s an anger there she usually ignores, the deep hurt of the Capitol parading her around as a victor but not actually caring about her.

“I think it’s another way to control us,” Denali says. “Who’s gonna speak out against them when they fixed us up and gave us a nice house with heat and indoor plumbing, y’know?”

Rosé nods. “I guess I just want—“

“You want a life they don’t own. A life that’s yours,” Denali guesses. A guess that flies out so easily because it’s something she wants herself, something no one else understands. When Rosé left for the Games, Denali was still young enough to have that wish. She had the freedom to not know what she wanted to be when she was older. No one dreams of becoming a Hunger Games victor.

But somehow they both did.

“Yeah.” Rosé sighs. It’s something she never really lets herself imagine—a normal life with her family, with easy sleep and no Capitol obligations—but something she longs for just the same. And Denali understands. Rosé wonders if it could’ve been like this all the time if she had the courage to talk to her.

“Are you scared?” Denali asks suddenly.

“Fuck, how could I not be?” Rosé mutters, her honesty continuing. “I mean, I’m scared to go back, sure, but…but I’m also scared that if I come out, I might not be me anymore. I don’t want the Games to make me something I don’t want to be.” She doesn’t know how to explain it, only that she doesn’t want to lose herself to the Games, to what she might have to do. She never wants to become so soaked with blood that she can’t recognize herself.

Denali nods. “You still want to be you at the end. Not just a piece of the Games.”

The words strike Rosé’s heart like she thought them herself. “Yes.”

“It scares me too.”

It shouldn’t do anything. It’s just a simple confirmation that they feel the same way, recognize something in each other. But it proves to Rosé that she’s not alone, that someone understands her, and after she and Denali say goodnight around two, she falls asleep easily.

---

The sun dawns bright the morning of the Games.

Denali moves in a daze, stomach knotting over a silent breakfast with Rosé.

She needs to focus. She needs to let go of last night, of how real Rosé’s love seemed, of how she let her guard down and talked with her, of how close they’ve gotten. This is a game, and it’s about to start. Time seems to malfunction, and one minute she’s picking at her food and the next Manila’s leading them to the launch room. This is it.

Denali’s heart pounds as they get ready. She’s in all black--boots, pants, shirt, and jacket--and Rosé is dressed the same. Her lion pin roars on her jacket, while Denali has her mother’s necklace. She hopes it protects her.

Manila dabs her tears with a bumblebee handkerchief, and Denali would roll her eyes, but she’s pretty sure it’s genuine.

“Remember,” Rosé says hoarsely, “we get our weapons and run.”

Denali nods as they step on the plates that take them to the arena. Denali closes her eyes as the platform shoots up, her head spinning as she tries to breathe. Everything stops, and the announcer’s voice declares the 75th Hunger Games have begun.

Denali opens her eyes.

#rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #symone #rosnali #lesbian au #s13 #hunger games au #ever in your favor #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission

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wisestudentninja · 6 years

Text

June 2018 Featured Creator

What is a Featured Creator?

Write Way Studio’s “Featured Creator” segment is my way of showing appreciation for the creators of the world. Creative outlets are limitless, because there is no end to human imagination. Every month shows the succeeding featured creator. If you would like to be a part of this collaborative project, contact me at [email protected]!

My ninth guest creator is the artist known as PonPox!

Introduction

Known on the Internet by their username PonPox, they also go by Pon! They are twenty-four years old with their birthday landing on March 16th. Their astrological sign is the Pisces, better known as the twin fishes! They have earned a bachelor’s degree in video game design with a focus on 3D art. At the moment, they are part of an internship with a mobile game company as a 3D/2D artist for a vocational university.

Although they are a 2D artist at heart with both traditional and digital media, PonPox also works with 3D. They create fan-art for a variety of fan-doms they are currently interested in. When they have spare time, they adore experimenting with digital art. With the digital come the opportunities with colored pieces and more advanced work. In comparison to traditional work, digital has become so much easier because of Ctrl+Z and able to freely move pieces around as desired. Programs like Photoshop and SAI help them practice even more with all artistic elements and experimentations.

However, because of their current schedule, most of their creative drawing time occurs on their commute to and from work, an estimated three hours per weekday, and lunch breaks. In concerns to the consequence of the impending time crunch, they elaborated that their artwork was bits of “messy sketches, cleaner lead drawings and sometimes inked pieces.” The minimum of their supplies are sketchbooks, mechanical pencil, and an eraser. At the moment, they possess an interest in coloring, so they also bring along color pencils in order to satisfy the urge.

The most common subject matter for them is fan-art. Original pieces are a close second, particularly folklore and fantasy creatures. Fauns, harpies, centaurs and Scandinavian-styled trolls name only a few. They like to place them into a modern setting with creative narratives attached. The chronicles even develop into full blown backstories during their commutes. The ideas may even develop into something more in the future. But right now? They are just ramblings to them.

What Sparked the Creator Passion?

How It All Started

They started drawing around the same time as everyone else would, in kindergarten. The only difference is that they did not want to stop. They admitted that a huge artistic milestone for them had been the introduction of manga and anime into their lives. They were about nine or ten when they first started reading manga. They later would try to mimic the manga styles they encountered.

All about the Art

The Epiphany

PonPox recalled some sort of news coverage a couple years after they had been introduced to the world of manga. The topic of discussion? “How to draw manga” tutorials, of all things! They then remembered paying very close attention to the instructions the news provided. A new development occurred to them from the experience that never registered before, that “you can learn techniques to draw better.”

Their parents later gifted them with a “how to draw manga” book that actually managed to do a decent job in jumpstarting their journey as an artist. They learned so much in a short time as well as lucked out with the book being one of the decent tutorial texts. It provided a bit of everything for artists, from color wheels, basic anatomy, and even shading rules. It even shared multiple drawing styles and artists, revealing how manga is just one kind of style that happened to originate in Japan.

Manga and Anime

Manga and anime continue to be PonPox’s biggest inspirations. It’s the main reason they started to focus on their art more versus simply aimlessly drawing. However, a clarification is in order: they are not a manga artist. The term implies that the artist is creating manga in Japan and they definitely do not like being labeled with that assumption.

Experimentation

Fantasy and folklore creatures interest them since the beings can freely break away from the norm. People-watching heightens their creativity and curiosity. Humans fascinate them so, just like the creatures. They began to tinker with various body modifications, from body hair, wrinkles, body fat, muscles and body types as a whole. Part of the experimenting is due to them trying to escape from the typical anime/manga body imagery. For the mythical creatures, they feel that “you can bend the rules more . . . [since] their beauty standards and physiques can be very different than what humans are used to.”

Future Projects

At the moment, there is no definite answer. PonPox does know, however, that they will never stop drawing. They sometimes works with their girlfriend on comics of an AU (alternate universe) for the character Leorio from the anime series Hunter x Hunter on a side-blog. They are always creating more art for their blog, though!

There may be the possibility of prints, keychains, and other products (that is the hope anyway). They are simply creating art and completing commissions at the present time.

Where to Find You? Support You?

PonPox is available on the Interwebs, from looking at their artwork to business purposes. To satisfy your curiosity, look at the information provided below!

Two sides of Tumblr house their art!

Main Art Blog

Side-Blog (that also focuses on art)

Portfolio for their 3-D work!

Support their work or even request a commission!

Ko-fi

Commission Details

Last Tidbits

As crazy as it may sound, PonPox had no clue narwhals were real animals! Somewhere they heard about narwals being the unicorns of the sea and it just stuck. It wasn’t until they were about thirteen or fourteen that they stumbled upon a photograph of one. It completely blew their mind! To this day, they still think narwhals are “some of the most magical creatures out there.”

Important Notice

Please understand that some information will not be shared by the creator’s request. If you cannot understand that, there is not much more I can do to help you. Safety is a top priority here, and I am here to help the creators, not instigate negative behavior.

Collaboration Disclaimer

The information provided in my Featured Creator articles is, in fact, from the real people, not some random Internet bot. I do not use random stock photos to fill an imaginary photo quota. Any photos in the Featured Creator segment are provided by the creators with permission to use them in this manner. I want to support the original person behind the work, not a random online copycat creeping around.

To PonPox,

Even though we could not work on this as much as I would like, I hope you enjoyed the collaboration as much as I did! I know that it was hard to consistently connect for the collaboration, especially when some unavoidable occurrences happened on my end and you having work as well. It was definitely not easy and I cannot apologize enough for my lack of professionalism when the situations continued to arise. It also provided me with a painful reminder of the unfortunate reality my technology presents me (since I had to rig it so much just so we could work on the rough drafts – long story!)

We beat the odds! This finished product you’re reading right now is proof of that!

I appreciate this opportunity you gave me and hope we can work together again soon! As crazy as it may sound, you are the first person on Tumblr I have actually asked to work with me (and answered back!) I love your unique art style and quirky personality. You are one of the people I look up to, especially when it comes to art. Until next time, I wish you the best of luck!

Sincerely,

Jasmine Love

{Write Way Studio creator and blogger}

MLA Citation (8th edition)

PonPox. Personal E-mail Interview by Jasmine Love. June 2018 Featured Creator Collaboration, 20 May – 5 June 2018.

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styleemag · 7 years

Text

1000 years by your art

Viola aka @pitypagn aka @faheej is a 16 year old SHINee lover, currently living and studying in Budapest. Being a prolific and extremely talented young artist, she has something yet to draw and say about her ultimate K-pop favourite - 5HINee.

Tell us, please, about SHINee Fanzine project. How did the idea emerge? Who are the participants? How is the process organized? ^▽^

The fanzine started with a tweet by my friend Gib (Twitter @cat__boy ). He wanted to participate in a SHINee themed zine but there wasn’t any around, so he thought of creating one. (By the way, it would be really nice if more zines and artist collabs were organised in the fandom! We haven’t seen many collaboration zines, mostly individual artists’ artbook and older theme collabs by korean shawols that hasnt happened in a while.) I messaged Gib that i would support the idea and so did his friend Flo (Twitter @omjkt_), and we became an admin team of three. For our theme, we went with something I had in my mind since April; a project that celebrates SHINee’s 10th anniversary by making a collection of fanarts themed around their songs. The name ‘10 years by your side’ is also referring to their song '1000年、ずっとそばにいて・・・’ (1000 Years Always By Your Side).

Gib and Flo organised the technical aspects like choosing a printing shop, looking up printing requirements, shipping options, setting up a Tumblr page with all the necessary information, asking a friend to translate to korean and making the actual application form. It’s a big work and involves a lot of discussion, so I’m glad we could work it out; three is a good number for organising a zine, especially for first-timers like us as we can discuss and ask each other things effectively, split up work, point out things that the others forgot and such.

About the participants; we decided to invite some artists and open applications as well. We came up with a list of about 20 people — mostly SHINee fanartists known in the fandom — who we would like to work with and simply invited them through Twitter. It was a really rewarding part of the organisation process as it got me to talk to some of my mutuals i really look up to but we haven’t talked because of language barriers; someone whose art I really adore actually told me I made their day with the invitation and I found out we’re birthday twins with another artist! Also, good language exercise, hehe. While inviting artists, we also promoted our application page, where we received over 120 replies (which is incredible) and ended up choosing 15 artists from them, making our number 36 with admins.

To distribute the songs, we made a document of the list of songs we wanted to include in the zine (so they make a coherent timeline of SHINee’s music and visual concepts through the years) and sent it to artists so they can sign up to the song(s) they would like to draw, or add others that they had in mind. Currently, everyone is working on their pieces and us admins are in the making of the design of the printed zine. We also have a chat with all artists to get to know each other and share work in progress pictures.

For what’s still to be done; after all the designs and artworks are edited into one, we will start printing and selling towards the end of the year. Until then, we will update our social media (@shineefanzine on Twitter and Tumblr) on how things are going and possibly previews of the artworks!

It seems like you are doodling all the time, cause you often publish works done in notebooks, on working sheets of paper. It creates a unique atmosphere of understatement, so what does it say about you, in your opinion? 6v6

Haha that’s actually not correct! It’s true though that my sketchbook is a checked spiral notebook (that’s probably 10+ years old), so I understand why it seems so! I kind of wish I could draw more in school but it’s simply not the best place for me as I’m occupied with other things, and I like to make more focused drawings lately. Which is also why I haven’t really used that sketchbook (and updated my Instagram where I put traditional sketches) in the latest months. I might get back to it again, as I need to make some studies and I can’t continue my summer break drawing work ethic with finished digital pieces almost every day.

Understatement is a really nice way to put it though, I’m glad it seems so! There are multiple reasons for my sketchbook, one is that I feel too pressured having to draw something nice if it’s on some expensive special paper. Also, it’s easier for me to sense depth, proportions and sizes (aka how close i am to the paper) if it has patterns on it, although when the print ink is too strong, it’s not very good for drawing. The notebook I have has a good paper and lightly printed so it’s nice to draw on. This is the technical part, and what I think this says about me…simplicity? Since I started doing digital, traditional art became secondary for me and that’s great in the quality that it provides me more freedom in it, in some way. That it doesn’t matter if I draw something badly in traditional as it’s not as important to me. This is more of an image I would like if people saw when they looked at my Instagram, that it’s carefree, not looking for perfectionism but has its own beauty in sketchiness and stationary tools. Also that the first and most important thing you need for art is, well, doing art, not professional art supplies.

Be it a pencil sketch, or a digital masterpiece, your artworks are professionally done. Do you have plans to follow an artist’s career? ㅍ_ㅍ

Thank you so much!! I do! Since a little less than a year ago, I decided I don’t want to study anything I’m being taught (mistake of going to a school known for its math) and it would be much nicer to occupy and surround myself with art and artsy people. I am planning to start taking art courses later this year or next year, learn to make a portfolio and look up some art colleges. At this point, I would be the happiest to be an illustrator but animating sounds good too, I will have to see yet where I will go!

What role does fashion play in your life? Do you use it as a tool, an artist’s medium? `ㅂ´

I’m probably not fashionable enough to say that, haha. Or rather I’m not satisfied with my own fashion because I don’t have the wardrobe I would like to have, my own personal issues getting in my way. It interests me though, and I do have the nagging feeling to do better, the room to improve, the inspiration. I like simplicity, gray and dull colors, oversized clothes, simple and clean designs that are great in their quietness. I would like to be like that.

Fashion in my drawings is a bit of a different topic I know, but I would like to mention since even though I’m usually preoccupied with people in my drawings, it can be really meditative and nice sometimes to sit down and compose an outfit and fiddle with details. Also high fashion, it can be quite an inspiration for me.

What thing, or maybe person, impressed you most of all recently? ㅎㅅㅎ

Eastern Europe. It has an exciting aesthetic that isn’t celebrated enough, at least from what I could see. I really love the folk wear, and it feels like home. I would like to make illustrations based around it as well as my own country’s historical fashion, it’s beautiful. The other side is the ~dark~ post socialist aesthetic, big blocks of panel houses made of concrete that don’t age well. It has a grim and heavy feeling but it’s also something uniquely here. I don’t know, maybe only the grim feeling might appear in my art style, maybe I will abandon it for lighter aesthetics but it’s interesting nevertheless.

We are thankful to Viola ( @faheej ) for her fabulous creations and the talk. Design by Anna Maria ( @sh5untik ).

#shinee #stylee #shineefanart #interview #shinee world #shawol #5hinee_너를지켜줄게

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myriadimagines · 7 years

Text

Hang On, You Don’t Have A Twin?

Star Wars (Rogue One) One Shot

Characters: [FEMALE] Reader x Cassian Andor + Jyn Erso & K-2SO

Warnings: none

Request: “Could you do a cassian andor x reader ? Maybe the reader has been friends with jyn for years and jyn introduces reader to cassian. She's really shy but she loves to draw (sometimes realistic and sometimes animated) She likes cassian and he vice versa but they don't know how to approach the topic. He finds her sketch book one day as she's training and looks through her sketches and some of them are of him and she walks in to him looking at her sketches and she gets all flustered. And lots of fluff ensues. *my mind kinda of drifted while writing this but I'm sure you'll make this story great lol*” - christinaatyourservice92

Word Count: 1,583

A/N: Hope I did okay with this request, enjoy !

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', myHandler); function myHandler() { var v = document.body.innerHTML; var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; v = v.replace(/\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, input); document.body.innerHTML = v; } // ]]>

Crossing your legs and propping your sketchbook onto your lap, you lightly outlined the details of a rebel ship you saw earlier. You stuck you tongue out slightly when you drew, a sign you were in deep concentration, as you shaded and carefully coloured in your sketch. You were so focused on your drawing you barely heard your best friend, Jyn, enter your room.

“What are you drawing now, y/n?” Jyn asked playfully as she jumped into the bed and lay down next to you. Laughing, you showed the notebook to her and she raised her eyebrows.

“Impressive, as usual.” she nodded, and you smiled gratefully at her as you put the sketchbook onto your bedside table. You had just recently moved to the Rebellion base in the room next to Jyn’s, after she recruited you. You weren’t much of a fighter, but your drawing skills were what got you in. You helped sketched maps and plans for the generals, and sometimes blueprints for engineers. It was a good thing you were good at drawing too, because it didn’t really require much interacting with others. You were a little shy and scared of people at times, but drawing helped you escape all that.

“Any new projects for me?” you asked Jyn, and she shook her head as she sat up.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” she clarified. “I should’ve introduced him earlier, because I’ve been working alongside with him for a while, but I’ve been so busy lately.”

Looping her arm through yours, she pulled you off from the bed and out into the corridor. She led you into the conference room, which was empty except for an attractive young man and a tall Imperial droid.

“Cassian!” Jyn called out, and the young man looked up. He looked at Jyn briefly, but then his gaze fell onto you and he couldn’t look away. You held his eye contact for a moment before looking at the floor, blushing.

“Hi, Jyn.” Cassian managed to stammer out as the two of you approached.

“This is y/n.” Jyn introduced you, shoving you a little closer to Cassian. Hesitantly, Cassian outstretched his hand, and you gently shook it. “y/n, this is Cassian.”

“Cassian, your body language is telling me that you’re attracted to y/n.” the Imperial droid piped up. The two of you blushed, and Jyn smirked.

“Uh… that’s my droid, K-2SO.” Cassian mumbled, and you looked at the droid.

“You’re the artist, aren't you?” K-2 asked, and you nodded. Cassian looked at you in surprise.

“You draw?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. You bit your lip nervously, unable to form sentences.

“Yes, and she’s amazing at it.” Jyn spoke up for you.

“Oh, well, I’m not that goo-” you attempted to be modest, but Jyn refused to let you.

“Shut up, y/n, yes you are. You should see her work sometime, Cassian.” Jyn grinned.

“I hope I can someday.” Cassian responded hopefully, and you gave him a small smile. There was an awkward pause before Jyn decided it was time to leave.

“Well, good talk.” she laughed. “I’m glad you guys got along so well. y/n and I are going to go now.” She tugged at your arm, and the two of you quickly hurried away. As soon as you exited the room, Jyn burst out laughing and slung and arm around your shoulders.

“Oh y/n, your crush was so obvious!” she managed to get out between giggles.

“No it isn’t!” you defended yourself, but you couldn’t help but burst into giggles too. “He is attractive, though. And seems very sweet.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jyn waved her hand. “And it’s so obvious that he likes you too.” You looked at her, shocked, and shook your head.

“I doubt it.” you mumbled, and Jyn rolled her eyes.

“You heard K-2!” she exclaimed. “And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s usually right. The two of you should go out sometime, you guys would look cute together.”

“Oh, I don’t know Jyn.” you sighed, too scared to confess your feelings to him.

Meanwhile, in the conference room, Cassian and K-2 were having a similar conversation.

“y/n’s body language suggests she’s attracted to you too, Cassian.” K-2 said, and Cassian ran his hands through his hair.

“She’s so pretty.” he sighed, awestruck. “And she draws too! But how to I ask her out, K?”

“Don’t ask me, I’m a droid. I don’t go around asking people on dates.” K-2 retorted, and Cassian laughed.

—

It had been a few weeks since Jyn had introduced you to Cassian, but very little progress was being made. The two of you often bumped into each other, but both of you were too shy to say anything more than “hello”, “goodbye” and “sorry”.

Jyn had convinced you to take a combat training class, which you attended every morning. You were waiting for Jyn to arrive to train with you, and you had brought your sketchbook along. You were absentmindedly sketching the mountain range you could see through the window when Jyn arrived.

“Have you shown Cassian any of your drawings yet?” she asked, putting her bag down next to you. You shook your head, and Jyn sighed. “Oh well, we’ll get around to it eventually. Let’s go.”

Setting your sketchbook down, the two of you stood up and made your way into the training room. A few minutes later, Cassian passed by. The two of you were already gone, and Cassian was on his way to his room when he spotted the sketchbook. He glanced at it, and saw your name printed neatly in the corner.

He paused, but finally his curiosity got the better him. Sitting down, he started flipping through. There was a sketch of a rebel ship, a lot of smaller sketches of flowers around the base, and more recently, a sketch of the mountain range. You were extremely talented, he realised, but it was the sketches of people that caught his eye.

There were a few of Jyn. One of her polishing a droid, her expression very concentrated. Another one of her sitting on a chair, laughing. Then he flipped the page and recognised a face, a face he realised was his own.

There was a picture of him in the conference room, deep in thought as he looked at a hologram. Another one was of him dozing off, leaning against a ship. Finally, there was one of him and K-2, where he was looking up at the droid and laughing.

Cassian smiled at these pictures of himself, simple snapshots of him in his daily life. They looked so realistic, and he seemed to almost be reliving the moments. He flipped through the rest of your sketchbook, amazed by your skills, when you suddenly ran in to grab your water bottle.

“Oh, hi Cassian-” you quickly said, then froze when you saw his sketchbook open on his lap. Your eyes scanned the page, and you saw him looking at a sketch of him with K-2. Cassian froze as well, uncertain of how he should react.

“I, uh… um… that’s not mine.” you stammered, trying to salvage the situation. Cassian slowly closed the book and looked at your name on the cover, and raised his eyebrows at you.

“There’s no need to be shy, y/n, you are a very talented artist.” he complimented you. You tried to muster up a smile, but you were too embarrassed. “I really like the picture you drew of me and K.”

“Th-that’s not you.” you said lamely, blushing even more. Cassian pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to embarrass you, but at the same time you looked cute when you were blushing.

“It’s not? It looks a lot like me.” Cassian replied, amused.

“It’s your twin, isn’t it? I thought you had a twin.” you almost laughed at your lame excuse, but internally you were cursing yourself.

“I don’t have a twin. It’s just me, the one and only.” Cassian bowed dramatically, and you relaxed a little and laughed.

“Hang on, you don’t have a twin?” you joked, making fun of the situation now. Cassian chuckled, and stepped closer to you. You held your breath as he stood in front of you.

“I… I probably should’ve said this earlier but…” Cassian fumbled with his words, and you could see his cheeks were flushing. He nervously rubbed his hands together, unsure of what to do with them. Before you could overthink it, you grabbed out and held his hands, and he smiled at you.

“I like you, y/n. A lot. I actually like you so much it kind of scares me.” he blurted.

“I like you a lot too, Cassian.” you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling too broadly. He reached over and gently brushed your hair behind your ears, and nervously spoke.

“Can I… uh… kiss you?” he asked quickly, and you nodded. He leaned over to you and gently pressed his lips against yours, and the both of you closed your eyes as you pulled each other closer.

“Oh my god, finally!” a voice yelled, and the two of you pulled away to see Jyn smiling excitedly. She gave the two of you a thumbs up, before she yelled again. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“Oh, we won’t.” Cassian called back, before he pulled you towards him to kiss you again.

#cassian andor one shot #rogue one one shot #star wars one shot #cassian andor #cassian andor imagine #rogue one #rogue one imagine #star wars #star wars imagine #imagine #imagines #reader insert #one shot #reader x cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #jyn erso #k-2so

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