#first time for everything

[gleafer]

New comic dropped on Patreon/Gleafer!

Be there or be

The Night of Many Firsts: Part 1

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

Experimenting is bound to give you attention. Magazines are trending, and not just in the women's department. A one-eyed boy who has recently been caught with something vulgar has respect for women. How surprising.

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Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: boys being boys (worse than b4), swearing, one-sided anger, reference to a movie (Hot Rod), love triangle again (new character??), fluff (finally?!?!?!)

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Chapter four: Flashy Magazines

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I flip through page by page the new magazine I bought. It was imported from america, and the second I heard of it, I ran to the nearest booth.

That was yesterday. Today is Monday morning. I woke up a little earlier to scroll through my said magazine and look for inspiration. I thought I'd do something different. A bit more bold.

Hair bumps and bangs. A style well worn by Priscilla Beaulieu, the speculated lover of Elvis Presley. The magazine was filled with her.

I grab my scissors, lifting my head to look into my bathroom mirror. I read the directions on the magazine, parting a small section at the middle of my hair, pulling it in front of my eyes.

I take a deep breath in. A click from the scissors is heard. Not half bad, I say to myself. I shag it a little, smiling to myself.

I continue to read the instructions to Priscilla's hair bump, deciding to make it just a small bump, curling the ends, then adding hair spray to keep it all intact. Once I was done , I added a pair of pearl earrings.

There's a new dress waiting for me in my closet. It was a present from my parents. A knee-length flowy dress with a boat neckline and a thin strap belt, all in the colour of watermelon red.

I put it on, patting down the skirt, and grab my kitten heels. I pray that I don't get caught. This is probably how Michèle felt on the first day of school.

I take one last look in the mirror. I looked older, like a proper lady. I straighten my back and smile strainedly. I breathe out slowly.

I grab my satchel and coat, then head out of my flat. Walking to school, eyes follow me. From my lovely neighbour to the men smoking cigarettes in the street. I don't mind them and continue to make my way to school.

Once I get there, I see Laubrac walking away from Michèle. I walk up to her and put on a smile.

"Michèle. How have you been?" I lean in to hug her.

"Wow, Y/N. You're stunning. You look like you were made to be in movies." Michèle laughs, and I laugh with her.

"Don't go that far." We smile at each other and make it through the gate. Once again, eyes are on me, younger this time.

We look towards the bathroom, seeing Felbec run towards it, then get rejected access through. A tall frame pushes him away, and I knew exactly who it was. I furrow my eyebrows.

A boy then comes running through the gate, shouting out how he has the money. I notice Annick as she suddenly walks away. When he makes it there, the school bell rings. I laugh, watching him move around disappointed.

××《☆》××

"Literary salons are almost always hosted by women. Madame de Sèvignè, Madame de Lafayette." Our teacher says as he leans on his table with his arms.

The lecture fades, and all I hear is the tapping of my heels on the hardwood floor.

"Dupin." Our teacher calls out. I turn around to take a look, but my eyes lock with one. I squint at Descamps, then shift my eyes to Dupin.

"As you won't stop talking, you seem well-versed on the subject. Can you share your thoughts on the salons with us?" Dupin stands, and I smile softly, seeing his embarassed state.

I turn my head back to the front, but a stare stays on me, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I ignored it at first, and then it started to get annoying. So I turned, and I saw him, and he was smiling. He's smiling. Every time I look at him, either he looks dead inside (though, in my opinion, no dead person could look that pretty.), or he's smiling. And that's what he's doing. He's smiling.

How I wish I could wipe it off.

××《☆》××

My ears pound as I hear Ms. Giraud's voice. I might go deaf, but I keep my composure. The bell rings, and we're finally dismissed.

I hear rushed shuffling. Ms. Giraud calls out to the boy.

"Are you in a rush, Lamazière?" Ms. Giraud yells. I notice it's the same boy that ran to the bathroom with money in his hand.

He gets punished, and I laugh quietly. I grab my things, rushing up to the girls.

"Hey, I need to go to the bathroom. Continue walking without me." They nod, and we part ways.

After using the toilet, I look at myself in the mirror. I never expected that. How conscious I'd be of my looks, my movements, and my habits.

Maybe it comes with the fact I dressed up. But for what, I start to wonder. I don't know why I dressed up in the first place. I know I said for a change, but is that really all?

A flash of an eye comes to mind. I quickly shake it off. No way. Not him.

I clear my throat, then grab my things. I hastily walk out the bathroom, suddenly needing fresh air. As I make it to the hallway of the stairwell, footsteps slow down, and eyes follow me. I stop in my tracks.

I scanned through them, what face they were wearing while looking at me. I look down on myself. I still looked presentable, so what were they looking at?

I start to walk, my eyes following the faces of the boys. Each step I take down feels slower. One flight finished, and I stop glancing at them. My feet tap on the porcelain floor of the stairs as I keep my head down.

One flight left, a tall frame walks into the school. He turns to the stairs, and I stop. Descamps stares at me. I stare at him. He then looks up and sees plenty of eyes on me. I see his jaw clench.

He claps his hands. I flinch at the echo of it.

"Will you boys keep staring, or will I go shopping for a new eye with all of yours?" This gets them moving. The stairwell is noisy again.

I turn my head back to Descamps, and I glare. Hard. I walk towards him, and then I'm reminded of our height difference. I crane my neck upward.

"I could've handled myself, you know?" I squint my eyes, and all he does is stare. Why is he just staring? Can't we fight already? I feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna sa-"

"You're beautiful." I barely even heard it. But I did. Then I acted like I didn't.

"What?" I stutter out, flushed cheeks redder than before.

"You're miserable. You clearly needed my help." I scoff, the comforting warmth I felt quickly replaced with boiling anger.

"Just leave me alone, Descamps." I walk away, and into the courtyard.

Who does he think he is? Some knight in shining armour? He's more like a thief in the streets. But then no thief could be as annoying, as dreadful, as smiley as him. That stupid smile, and those stupid words, and his stupid face. Stupid, stupid face. Sometimes I just wanna grab it and-

I stop in my tracks. There's a line in front of the boys' bathroom. What would they be lining up for? I see a mop of blonde hair and framed eyes. Applebaum. He hasn't talked to me, hasn't said hi, and I always wonder if I'd done anything wrong.

But he's the past. I guess he just doesn't like me. It's too bad. I had high hopes for him. A whip of air pushes by me, and it's Descamps again. He's jogging towards the bathroom. He's collecting coins from them. Really, what's going on?

I look in front of me. Michèle and Simone are seated on the stairs. I sigh in relief. I sit beside them.

"I can't do this anymore. All the boys, they're dreadful. Why did I come here in the first place?" I groan. The girls watch me, amused.

"Because you moved here from Paris and-" I cut Simone off.

"Rhetorical." I mutter. She purses her lips shut.

Michèle clears her throat. "So, you think you'll get married?" I lift my head up.

"To who?" My eyes are wide open as well as my ears.

"Eugène. Simone's lover boy." I cover my mouth in shock.

"What? I thought you had a thing for-" Simone cuts me off this time.

"No. It's a little too soon for that." She answers Michèle's question. I mouth sorry. She nods.

"Aren't you worried he'll want to take things further?" Michèle asks Simone. I started to click the pieces together. I bite on my lip to hide my smile.

"I don't know." Simone smiles at the thought. "Can I have a bite? Thanks." She says as she grabs Michèle's apple and takes a bite from it.

"I hope I find a husband soon. So I can get out of my parents house." I nod at Michèle's statement.

"That's true. But hopefully, no one from here. I'd rather die." They laugh at my overreaction, but honestly, I might just die than marry anyone here.

Well, except for one, maybe. Who, I ask myself. Right. Who am I even talking about? My eyes drift to a one-eyed boy. No. Don't even think about it.

Descamps as a husband? I laugh to myself.

Sure, I can imagine him going to work, coming home, smoking a cigarette or two as he reads the news.

Lounging in the living room one lazy afternoon, shirt slightly unbuttoned and pants a bit loose. Eating breakfast with his family, cooking with his wife (who, for some reason, looks almost like me. Very weird.), kissing her shoulders as his arms wrap around her waist.

His scent, his soft lips, his large frame. Carrying his kids in his arms as he spins them around the backyard. Teaching his son how to catch, playing dolls with his daughter, taking a break on a bench, one arm on his thigh, and the other on me.

Me? I shake my head. No, not me. His wife. Certainly not me. I grimace at the thought. Why would I even?

I sigh deeply, frustratedly. These damn thoughts are infuriating, just like him.

"Happy New Year, Ms. Palladino." My trance gets cut off.

"You too, Sir." Simone responds. I clear my throat, composing myself.

Michèle calls out for her uncle and gets up. I wonder what she's going to do. I don't pay much mind as I scoot over to Simone.

"It's Jean Pierre, isn't it?" She flinches.

"What do you mean?" I roll my eyes at her response.

"You know what I mean. Eugène? It's definitely Jean Pierre." Her cheeks flush, and she drops her head.

"I'm happy for you, really." I smile as she lifts her head, hope in her eyes. My smile wavers a bit. "But how will you tell Michèle?"

Her eyes lose that hope, and she looks away.

"I don't know. He said we shouldn't because she'll never let us see each other again."

"But one day, you'll have to." I grab her hand and rub it gently. She sighs.

"I wish you luck." I whisper, then hug her. She hugs me back. Once we pull away, Michèle sits with us again.

"He didn't want to lend it to me. What does 'adult' mean." I raise my eyebrows and puff out my cheeks, clearly not wanting to answer her question.

Michèle looks around. "What's up with everyone today?"

"You only noticed now?" I chuckle.

"Come with me." Me and Simone get up, following Michèle. She walks and calls towards Pichon.

"What's going on in the bathroom?" Pichon pauses. Too long of a pause.

"Nothing." I squint at him. Obviously not nothing.

"Somethings been going on in there today."

"Not at all. Nothing's going on." Pichon tries to walk away, but I stop him with a palm to his chest.

"Really? Why did you react that way when you ran into Mr. Bellanger?" I start to talk.

"What do you mean?" This is getting annoying.

"Don't act dumb. We know you aren't." I snap at him. "Now, why was your face all red?"

"No. It's not red." I furrow my eyebrows, now really getting angry. I almost shove him before Michèle holds me back.

"Simone, is his face red?" I ask her.

"It's red. Very red." I look back at Pichon and raise my eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

"It's not. It's just my complexion." I try to lunge at him, but Michèle's hands are tight on me.

"So you're not gonna tell us?" Michèle calls out for him. I whip my arms off of Michèle's hold, and she's quick to let me go.

"Of course he won't." I glare at the back of his head.

The bell rings.

××《☆》××

Descamps' group walks into the class together. They're rushing a bit.

"And Applebaum?" One of them asks.

"He's gonna sprain something." Descamps answers. Sprain what? What are they doing in that bathroom anyway?

"He's gonna go deaf." Oh. A shiver runs down my spine as I gag. Gross.

I hear Michèle ask Simone something, probably about what the boys are talking about. I don't wanna tell her.

Ms. Couret walks in and greets us. We're granted to sit. The door opens.

"Didn't you hear the bell, Mr. Applebaum." I gag again seeing him. I should've known he was like everyone else. To believe I might've given him a chance. I grimace.

The boys whisper and laugh. There's a boiling in my stomach. Ms. Couret moves on to the topic.

"Do you know the Beatles?" This catches my attention. No one answers, until Pichon does.

"The British band?" Ms. Couret nods.

"Yes. Let's see if those names ring a bell." I shuffle on my seat, giving my full attention to the discussion.

I don't notice the boys passing around a magazine 'till it comes flying towards Michèle's table. I peek over, and in front of her lies a flashy magazine.

××《☆》××

"He said if we didn't give him a name, the class would get detention every Thursday." Pichon says as everyone huddles in to listen. I feel a warm frame over and behind me, but I ignore it, thinking it's just another classmate.

"Then we all get detention." Dupin states, as if it wasn't already obvious.

"The whole class." Pichon exclaims.

"Even the girls?" My brows furrow. What did we do to be blamed?

"Everybody." We all stop.

"That's not fair." Simone says, and I nod with her.

"Right. What did we do? It was you guys who were being perverts." I call out.

I get more frustrated when a chest bumps into me. It's the same frame I felt earlier. I turn around, and I'm met with Descamps.

"You. You were the ones selling the magazine and passing it around." I glare at him.

"You're disgusting. I don't want you near me." I turn again and bid a quick goodbye to the girls then head home.

"Pardine!" I hear Descamps call out. I roll my eyes and keep walking. Once we're in a quieter area, he grabs my arm and gently pushes me to a wall.

"Please. I swear I would never." I glare up at him.

"Then why were you passing it around?" I ask him, tilting my head up.

His pants fill my ears. It's worrying. I place a hand on his chest.

"Calm down." I state, the worry etched in my voice.

He relaxed under my touch, I felt it, the way his muscles stopped being tense. I kept my face hard.

"Now, explain." My voice comes out demanding.

"I needed some money. What better way to collect it quickly than when there's hundreds of prepubescent boys in one school?" I roll my eyes. I almost walk away before he cages me in the wall with his arms.

"Please. Just... listen. I needed money, okay? I wanted to save up for... for..." He stutters, and my brows crease more.

"For?" I raise my brows, expecting an answer.

"For... records. Yeah. For my mother." I squint at his answer.

"That still won't excuse the fact you're a pervert."

"No, I swear. I would never. I know you don't believe me, but I swear. I swear on my mothers life I would never. Not in school, not anywhere. I respect a woman way too much to do something like that."

"A woman? Who? Your mother?" My brain turns to different answers.

"Yes." He stuttering again. "Definitely, my mother." He pushes away from me, and I feel cold.

I hum. Then I look back up at him, eyes still squinted.

"I'll let it pass for now." I see his face fill with relief, and I almost laugh.

I walk away, but before I get too far, I hear him mutter.

"You look pretty." I turn around, shocked and confused.

"What did you say?"

"I said you look shitty. Goodbye, Pardine!" He calls out as he walks away in a rush. I scoff, then turn back around to walk home.

××《☆》××

I pet George, lounging on my bed, thinking of going out to run some errands. I get up and head to the kitchen.

Stuck to the fridge, I read my mother's shopping list. I get rid of the magnet and stick the note into my coat pocket. I glance at George, then the door, then George again.

I sigh. I pick him up, head to my door, and lock it. We go down the stairs. I place him in my bicycle basket. I make sure he's tucked in well, then ride to the farmers market.

Once I'm there, I glance at the shopping list again. Some vegetables, fruit, flour, etc. I walk past each stall, buying what's needed. Just then, a boy, somewhere my age, walks towards me.

"Hi." He seems confident. "I'm Callum. What's your name?"

I look at him up and down, and then the hand he reaches out for a hand shake. He's tall, but not too tall. Maybe five feet and ten inches. He has long, wavy brown hair, neatly brushed behind his ears. He has deep doe eyes and a smile on his face. I hesitate.

"Y/N." I slowly lift my hand and shake his. His smile widens.

"So, I have a project that requires a model, and when I saw you, I thought you'd be the perfect candidate. Not to be blunt about it, but you're beautiful." I blush at the sudden compliment.

"All you need to do is let me take a couple of photos, and I'll pay you, about... 300 franc?" I gape at the offer.

"Are you sure? Just for pictures?" They nod.

"Yes. Good transaction, yeah? If I win the project, the pictures will be displayed in the front of a car magazine. Is that alright with you?" I think again, but what's there to think about when there's 300 franc on the table?

"Deal." I shake hands Callum's hand, and he smiles wider.

"Good. Now, I'll take you to my car, and you can do a couple of poses in front of it." He led me to his car, and the second I saw the bright mint blue of it, my jaw hits the floor.

"This pretty one," Callum pats the front of the car. "is a 1955 Ford Thunderbird. Mint blue exterior, white top, and a mix of both for the interior. It has the brake horsepower of 193, and she's my most prized possession. She goes up to 23,069 kilometres. Very lovely, right?" He leans on the car, almost hugging it.

I cover my mouth, hiding my smile. He walks over to me, gently grabbing my wrist and pulling it away from my face.

"Keep that smile on, pretty lady. We need it for the pictures." He tilts his head towards the car. "Go on."

I walk slowly. Once I'm near the passengers door, I pose, and I see the flash of the camera.

"Get inside. Take a feel around." I walk to the other side of the car, opening the door and closing it once I'm in. I feel the leather of the wheel against my palm, and I scoff in awe. The camera flashes again.

"I didn't get to pose!" I laugh, slightly embarassed.

"You didn't need to. You're a natural." He snaps another photo, and I laugh again.

After taking a few photos and reviewing them, Callum finally chose one. It was me smiling at the camera with my hands on the wheels, windows rolled down.

He told me I looked perfect, which was, based on what he said, the first thing that came into his mind when he saw me.

The rest of the day, he accompanied me shopping and even offered me a ride around town in his car. I obviously couldn't say no.

He pulled the hood down, letting the wind flow through my hair as we drove in the roads, making it to the fields, stopping by for some gas, and then getting on the road again.

××《☆》××

Callum parks the car in front of his flat, which was only a few blocks away from mine. We decided to walk to my place instead of draining out the car, not before him telling me that it was absolutely fine for him to drive me directly home. When I said I needed my legs moving, he stopped pushing it and agreed.

He puts the hood back on, locking the door with his keys. He walks to my side.

"Good luck with the project." My hands are in my coat pockets as Callum walks me home. He smiles, then looks at me.

"Meeting you was luck itself. That means if you're in my pictures, I'll bring luck with me." I roll my eyes.

"Cheesy." We come to a stop infront of my flat's door.

"Well, this is it." I purse my lips, looking up at him.

"Yup. I guess we're here." His eyes sort of lose its spark. I worry.

"You okay?" I raise my eyebrows, concerned.

"I wanna see you again." He blurts out. "Is tomorrow okay? The results will come out, and I sort of want you to be there."

"Sure. I'll be there." I rub his arm reassuringly. He slowly lifts his hand to cup mine on his arm. He lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He smiles softly, lets go of my hand, and leaves. I stay in my place, unsure of what to do. When his frame disappears from my sight, I shiver. What was that?

I'm greeted by George as I get in my flat. My heart's beating out my chest, and I feel anxious. There's something in me. It doesn't feel so good. Some sort of regret. Why?

A boy. Not Callum. Someone else. Taller frame. Shorter hair. One eye. Fuck no. No way. I can't. I shouldn't. Why am I thinking about him?

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. 'I don't even call him by his first name.' Joseph Descamps. I feel indifferent calling him his first name. I'm not in terms with him like that. We aren't close enough for me to call him that.

Then suddenly, I want to. I want to call him Joseph. 'Why?' I wonder. Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. It feels nice on the tongue. Descamps is suddenly too long of a name. Joseph is fine. The name, I mean. Not him.

Then suddenly, again, it is. He is. 'No, he's not', but I want him to be. How do I get him to be? 'I can't do this. I really shouldn't.' But, oh, how much I want to.

'No.' I quiet my thoughts. 'No. Never. I won't do it.'

But I want to.

Fuck.

××《☆》××

The next morning, most of the boys are called to the principles office. I sigh in boredom, looking out the window.

"It certainly feels emptier today." Simone says, breaking the silence. I want to laugh, but I can't. I wanted to see the way Joseph's green cardigan looked on his wide frame longer.

I shake my head. I totally didn't get enough sleep last night with that thought popping in my head.

Though, that cardigan really suited him. Green really suits him. It makes him sort of glow. It's not like he doesn't already. Come to think of it, his hair glows, too. It was a bit messy. He probably rushed to school today. I wonder how soft it'll be against my fingers when I brush it off to look neater.

I remember how warm he was that day in the alley. He was so much taller, so he had to basically break his back to reach me. I double take that thought.

He had to break his back just to reach me.

I know he didn't actually break his back, but I just knew that sort of hurt. But it was nice, so I guess it was worth it for him. At least, I hope it was.

Okay, wait. Why am I thinking like this? I guess we're on good terms now. I mean, sure, we bicker, but not as much anymore? I don't know. Whatever. I guess we're fine. I want us to be. I'm tired of being mad at him for no reason.

Yeah. We're fine. That's why I'm thinking like this, right? You know, as a friendly, 'I want to take care of you' kind of way. Which is platonic. Totally. Yeah, that's fine.

Maybe I should say hi from time to time? Or no. Maybe just a nod for a greeting? Too bland. A smile will do. He might be creeped out, though.

I groan internally. Why am I overthinking this? Whatever, I'll just smile and wave. That's good. Simple and effective. Don't overthink it. There's nothing to overthink about.

Ms. Couret walks in, and the class collectively stands up. She's wearing a green dress. It looks nice. It reminds me of Joseph.

Woah. Why am I thinking about him? I think I'm just worried. Yeah. I'm worried about him because we're friends. Wait, are we friends? I'll ask later.

We're told to sit down, and we do. Ms. Couret pulls out a copy of the news. This must be about The Beatles, I remember from the last discussion, before it got interrupted. I light up in my seat.

"We won't wait for your classmates. They're getting tortured at the dean's dungeon." The class laughs.

"Today, we'll start with an article on President Kennedy's murder." So it isn't about The Beatles. I furrow my eyebrows.

I raise my hand.

"Yes?" Ms. Couret lifts her head.

"What about the song?" I shrug my shoulders, asking a bit sadly.

"No. There won't be a song. I don't have the record." I purse my lips in silent disappointment. She passes us some papers, and I sit the rest of the day quietly.

××《☆》××

I walk outside of the gate, the crowds of students slowly dissipating. My hair flows in the wind, styled the same way it was yesterday, except done in a half up half down style. My yellow dress lifts up and down as my legs do.

I'm headed to Callum's school, excited for the results. Almost halfway there, I stop. Joseph is in front of a magazine booth, buying. My heart drops, assuming it was another one of those flashy magazines. But then he leans out the booth, holding a magazine with my face on the cover.

My face is on the cover, and Joseph is buying it.

Two very important things.

One, I got on the cover, so Callum won. Two, Joseph is buying a magazine with my face on the cover. My question is, does he know it's me on the cover? Or is he buying it because he generally likes cars.

I take slow steps forward. The closer I am, the more I hear. And there's a voice inside my head repeating Joseph's words.

"That's my girl." He points to my picture in the magazine, showing the booth owner. "She's gorgeous. I mean, look at her." He makes the magazine face him again. There's a wide smile on his face.

He's smiling. I think I'm starting to like it on him.

The second he turns his head and sees me, the smile I just started to admire drops. He looks red under the afternoon sun.

"Pardine." He clears his throat, hiding the magazine. "What are you doing around here?"

"Headed to St. Patricks. You know the all boys school?" I smile softly. His nervousness seems to fade, for only a little.

"What would you be doing there?" He sounds off.

"Meeting a friend." I lift my shoulders, showing off a smile.

He looks like he melts, then stiffens back up. "A friend? Who? What's his name? What's he look like?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Answer mine first, then I'll answer yours." He nods. "What are you doing here?"

He stutters. "I was just looking around. Thought I'd buy a magazine but then saw you." He's acting uninterested. Or atleast trying to.

"Saw me walking towards you, or saw me in that magazine you have in your hands?" His eyes blow open. I hide my laugh.

"What? What do you- oh." He points to the magazine booth that he's still standing next to.

"That's you? Wow, I didn't know you modelled. It's not like I care or anything." He puts his head down, shrugging his shoulders.

"Why'd you buy it, Joseph?" I smirk, tilting my head, trying to meet his eyes. He shys away.

"I was... gonna burn it. Yeah. I was- wait. What did you call me?" He whips his head up. I try to recall, then flush when I do.

"Nothing."

"You totally called me Joseph." Yes, I did.

"No, I didn't." I shake my head.

"You never call me that." No, but like last night, I want to.

"I didn't call you Joseph."

"You just did."

"You're so childish, Joseph."

"You did it again!"

I groan, walking away from him, as red as when he saw me. Why was he red when he saw me? Whatever, I need to get to Callum.

I hear his steps behind me, and I roll my eyes.

"Y/N, come on." I turn around.

"You called me Y/N."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." He definitely did.

"I didn't." Mhm, sure.

"You did. You never call me that." I mock him. He rolls his eye.

"Whatever."

"Whatever." I walk away from him. He doesn't seem to follow after me anymore, but then after a while, I hear his steps again.

"What's your friends name again? Are you sure I wasn't the friend you were gonna meet?" Oh right, I was gonna ask him about that.

"Are we friends?" I stop and turn to him.

He stops, too. No talking, no walking.

"Do you want us to be?" He asks. I pause.

"Yes."

"Then, yeah." There's that smile I missed.

"Good." I continue to walk.

"You didn't answer my first question."

"His name is Callum. He was the one who photographed me." I feel him grab my arm, and we stop again.

"He photographed you? When did you even meet? How are you sure he isn't some old creep?"

"Yes, he did. Yesterday, when I was in the market. He's our age, I made sure to ask."

"Okay, how exactly did he come up to you in the market?" He squints, tilting his head.

"Just went up to me, said hi, called me beautiful, offered money for the photos, took the photos, we drove around in his car, and then he walked me home." I shrug simply. He's still hesitant.

"You drove around in a stranger's car?"

"Correction, friends car."

"Yeah, a friend you just met."

"Whatever, I'm here now safe and sound anyways."

"But what if he was some creep? You need to be more careful, Y/N."

"I said it's whatever, Joseph." His eyebrows are furrowed, then after a while, he nods.

I continue to walk, and he follows. I don't stop him.

Once we're in front of St. Patricks' gate, I see the familiar Ford Thunderbird and quickly make my way, Joseph hot on my feet.

I see the familiar man leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets, then I see his toothy grin. I run up to him and give him a hug that he returns.

"Callum! Congratulations. I knew you had it in the bag." I say as I lean away from him. He keeps his arms wrapped around me. I feel a burning stare on us.

"Told you, you brought me luck." He takes his glasses off with his hand, then places the arm he used back on my waist. I hear footsteps and Callum's hold loosens.

There's an arm around my shoulder. Then, an all familiar voice.

"You alright, man? Congrats on the magazine. Y/N's told me about you." I look up at Joseph. His jaw's clenched.

"Of course she did. She told you about the ride on this pretty thing?" He pats the car, and I flush.

"Yeah, she did. I'm Joseph." He puts a hand out for Callum to shake. They clasp hands, and their grips are tight.

"Callum, but I guess you already knew that. If you don't mind me asking, who are you to Y/N?"

"Her b-"

"Friend. He's a friend." I cut him off. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes, then masks it with fake joy.

"Yup. I'm her friend." He nods to Callum.

"Oh. It's a bit weird that she hasn't mentioned you. You know, since you're friends and all." Joseph's arm tightens around me.

"Yeah, it's not like her to talk about her friends to someone she just met." There's a sarcastic smirk on his face.

Callum hums. "Well, s'nice to meet you, Joseph. Have a good one, yeah? And you, pretty lady..." Callum's gaze shifts to me, stare softening.

"Have a good night." He lifts my hand to his lips, placing a soft and lingering kiss on it. I take a deep breath in, maintaining composure, overwhelmed by the attention both boys were giving me.

Callum turns around and drives off on his car. Once his car was out of sight, I look back at Joseph, his stare still on the road where Callum rode off to.

"What was that?" I squint, tilting my head up. He instantly looks down at me with tending eyes.

"Nothing. I'll walk you home." His hand comes town to my arm, rubbing it gently. We turn to the way to my place.

The sun has set, and the street lights are on. It's a quiet night, the only things being heard are footsteps and draining water.

Only a block away from my flat, Joseph's arms are still around me. It feels comforting. It's nice to have a new friend. Though, I've known him longer.

"When you get home, I want you to say hi to George for me." I laugh at that. "I'm not kidding."

"Yeah, I'll say hi to George for you." I smile at the ground, then look up at him. He's already looking at me. We slow down a bit, just staring.

Then he leans in, and I mirror him. We lean in closer, closer, and closer. A moped engine turns on. We stop, and pull away.

"Here we are." He stops, and I didn't even notice we were already at my place.

"Oh. Right." He steps away from me, the arm around my shoulders gone. I feel alone again.

"Well, good night, Y/N." He stand there with his hands in his pockets.

"Good night, Joseph." I purse my lips. He nods. I walk up quarter way to the steps, then I stop.

I go back down, see Joseph, I tip toe, then press a kiss on his cheek. I quickly walk up the stairs again, almost tripping.

I make it to the inside of my flat, not bothering to turn the light on, then rush to the window. I peek out of it, and he's still there. He looks bewildered. Then, a smile slowly sits on his face. He stays there for a while, and then he walks away.

I slowly get up from my place, turning on the light, and I just stand there. Then, I squeal.

Holy fucking shit. Oh my gosh. No way, no way, no way, no way. I just kissed his cheek. Holy shit.

That's normal. Totally. Just a friendly kiss. But it felt nice.

I check the time. It's 12 in the morning. New year's kiss. I just had Joseph as my New Year's kiss. Kind of.

I see George, and smile wider.

"Joseph said hi."

I definitely don't hate not hating him anymore.

××《☆》××

End of- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines

Next- Chapter five: You Know Where To Find Me, and I Know Where To Look

××《☆》××

It's finally done 😭😭 watch me take a month for chapter five /j. Anw, this is a handful chapter. So many emotions. This is turning out to be an enemies to frienimies to lovers. What do u guys think abt Callum? Honestly, hes lowkey me cus i love cars. I wish i had his car. More of him soon too. I wanted tk add fluff so that u guys dont get the idea that im not making joseph and reader end game. I promise i am but u guys have to wait. Happy reading hope u guys liked this!!!

[merelyafacade]

Honestly Arcane season 2 brought about the completion of my villain arc.

For years I've been getting more skeptical and more cynical about sequels of any kind. I've watched companies trash my beloved game franchises, beat tv show concepts to death with unnecessary seasons, and turn favorite movie franchises into utter mockery. The pursuit of quality for the sake of telling a good story is so very clearly no longer a priority. Stories are now only made to be quick cash grabs or made to further some other motive.

It sucks to be stuck in a media desert devoid of creativity or artistic/writing talent. It sucks to have every franchise that inspired you at some point be twisted into something off-putting at the best or unrecognizable at the worst. It sucks to be apathetic or even cynical at the mention of any new installment in a franchise.

I remember when I lived for a new game trailer. When I scoured the internet looking for release details of a new movie or game. I remember the hype and predictions that often followed the new announcement. It was awesome. I valued these medias as a source of inspiration and escapism.

Now there is no hype. No excitement. No creativity and nothing that provokes inspiration. I'm so fucking sick of it. Arcane was kind of my last hope. I had been let down by great games, enormous franchises, and tv shows that were at the top of their hype. I've watched brilliant projects and breath-taking stories corrupted by greed and people who don't give a shit about the writing or the characters. I had hoped that Arcane was going to be different.

Season 1 had been SO good and SO wonderful. S1E1 is a masterclass in how to introduce characters. The first season was brilliant in how it interwove its plots and characters, and so skillful in its dialog. For 3 years I had so much hope that season 2 was going to be good.

Season 2 was the last straw. The final betrayal. If the creative team can make something THAT GOOD and then turn around and fuck it up THAT BADLY in a single. season.... Then nothing is safe.

I've got no hope for sequels moving forward. Miss me with that shit.

[heyhowzitgoinmydudes]

Never drawn Miriam before lmao

[0viraptoraskblog]

FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING IS SO GOOD IT MAKES ME WANT TO REWRITE THE FIRST 6 CHAPTERS OF MY OWN FIC!!! YOU PORTRAY THE CHARACTERS SO WELL? AND YOUR WRITING FLOWS SO SMOOTHLY!!! I'm supposed to be working on writing my newest chapter for my friends, but instead I'm reading your fic daydreaming instead T-T

Alas, tis the plight of the fic writer,,, </3

But seriously, thanks for making such good writing. It inspires me a lot!!!

This is literally such high praise, thank you so much!! ^^

Seeing this just made my whole day, I’m glad you like it, and I’m super happy it inspired you too! But really, this is such a big compliment, thank you <3

[dragqueenstarscream]

Headcanons for a ship: Starscream x Mirage?

don't think i've ever imagined these two together, but with how goofy these two can get (i'm imagining the g1 cartoon), i'll throw out some ideas!

- one of the big plot points mirage gets is that he's accused of being a traitor to the autobots. i could see starscream using that to his advantage, trying to convince (read: seduce) mirage to join the decepticons.

- mirage's invisibility is one of his biggest assets. he's probably used it more than a few times to sneak away from the ark to meet starscream in secret.

- mirage is definitely the more openly affectionate one of the two. he's more likely to make a dumb joke, drop a corny pick up line, or initiate random hugs and kisses. starscream doesn't get it, but he's not about to tell him to stop.

- knowing how vain starscream is, it wouldn't surprise me if starscream demands that mirage polish him after travelling so far to meet him. mirage just smiles and goes with it.

[graciethegreat]

God of Thunder

[toastedwatermelon2]

This little thingy was based off of this photo shown in the credits:

I think it's so funny but also weird that Master would just be so buddy-buddy with these guys after the events of the game. Here's me rambling about me thoughts and theories of this guy cuz he's my favorite character and I wish he had an actual name: He CLEARLY wasn't hypnotized because he shows frustration when the kids ruin his plans, so what then????? What was he even???? Was he like working for MAIK maybe? I don't know if they explained what exactly this guy is, but he definitely had something to do with MAIK since he knew the location of its brain or whatever and he checked in on the robots to see if they were okay. I always thought he was one of the scientist guys, but I dunno... He can't be hypnotized because he isn't a vegetable like the others and he's the one DOING the hypnotizing. He works for MAIK, but he isn't a PART of MAIK like Pielope was. He's just weird. I do like to think that he is just a scientist guy who actually supported MAIK's weird takeover of the world but when MAIK was destroyed he was just like "oh well." This was kinda what led me to make that drawing actually lol. I want more of this guy but the fandom is pretty dead and I don't think it was ever alive. Oh the misery of a fan of a random character from an unpopular game...

[reily-1]

Today I rode a horse for the first time. 🐎

And honestly? It felt like something out of a dream.

At first, I was nervous—this huge, beautiful animal beneath me, powerful and calm all at once. My heart was racing faster than the trot. But then… something shifted. I relaxed. I trusted. And suddenly, we were moving together, like we understood each other without saying a word.😹

The wind in my face. The rhythm of hooves on earth. The quiet moments in between.

It felt like freedom.🥰

[afriendofblahaj]

so yesterday i posted this poll asking if i should write yuri based on my dnd character backstory, and while the poll isnt closed yet, last night i could see the direction it was going (overwhelmingly yes), and i started to write the yuri as a break from homework. ill be posting updates as I make progress, here is the first!

YURI UPDATE #1:

Next update

Tw: Violence, some child abuse

This is my first attempt at writing anything not for a class or application, so please be nice, but I would love any feedback, positive or negative on my writing, id like to improve.

If you would like to be added to the tag list just ask! Ill be posting progress as i write it, and then posting the finished story when i am done, so if you'd like to read it all at once and avoid spoilers, the story is under the cut, and ill make a post once its complete.

“Ding” “Ding” “Ding.” The bells chime through the town square, ringing loudly down the alleys between the small houses making up the village. The sound echoes off the stone houses and cobbled streets before coming to rest in a small blacksmith shop on the outskirts of town, knocking a bit of dust off the window sills and sending rats skittering about. As if on queue, the clouds slid to the side, and a narrow band of sun cast through the thin window up near the ceiling, the dusty beam of light landing right on the pillow of a small mattress perched in a corner. A blanket shoots up to come between the sunlight and the face resting on the pillow, but the sound of the bell arrives at Sienna’s ears as she rolls back and forth, feeling the wakefulness slowly creep into her bones. She gently props herself up on her aching arms, and slumps back against the wall, leaning her head back in defeat as the bell continues to blast sound through her ears. Her shoulders slide down again slightly as she looks over her battered arms, gently going over each wound and shrinking further inside herself as she remembers why they are there. She slowly peels back the bandage wrapped around her upper right forearm frustrated that the 5 cm gash isnt healed yet, but at least the skin had stretched across the open wound, leaving pinkish scar tissue, and keeping even more blood from leaking out of the already stained and soaked bandage. Sienna tossed the bandage to the side, leaving it on the ground for the rats to lick up the blood, and tried to find a pose at least resembling comfort, but her entire body groaned in protest, every surface covered in some kind of wound, internal or external (or often both). No sooner than she found the position most agreeable than an empty watering pail slammed into her head, giving her a gash above the eyebrow, and more insultingly (she was used to the pain) tore her favourite blanket as it got caught between the can and the bed frame. A laugh drifted from across the house, and Sienna’s mother sneered loudly “Didn't mean to be that accurate. Water the fucking turnips before you head to the ring, your father is taking them to the market next week, we need the gold after you stole that goddamn pendant.” 

Sierra, already pissed at being hit in the head, knew better than to say it out loud, but inside she was fuming. She hated the reminder that she had to go to the ring today, and besides, she didn’t steal the pendant, she simply gave the raven who flew in the window a treat every day, and looked the other way when it grabbed a bit of shiny metal from the shop. It wasn't her fault that a bird deserved a trinket more than her parents did, but it sure was her who would get blamed for its loss.

With a determined sigh, she rolled out of bed, and slowly pulled on her trousers, wincing as her hand scraped against a bruise on her knee, a cut on her thigh, a torn muscle, but she was able to pull them up in the end. Her fingers fighting the strained tendons, she tied the trousers, and began to pick through her chest for a blouse, but all of them were torn and tattered, so she grabbed the roll of bandages and wrapped them around her chest in a few twirls, besides, the bandages felt better on her wounds anyways. Once she was dressed, she dropped to the floor to do her daily pushups, combing her hair with one hand while she carefully balanced on the other, pushing herself up and down. She may have hated her strength and the damage it caused, but Sienna sure as hell couldn't afford to let herself be weak, so she continued to push herself through the strenuous workout she designed herself, pushing herself until sweat dripped from her short hair into her eyes, and running in rivulets down her back, coating her biceps. When she finally felt run ragged, she pushed herself to do 5 more sets, collapsing back onto her bed when she finally let herself be done for the morning. She knew that she couldn’t relax for long, so she pulled herself up on shaky arms just in time, hobbling to her feet and lifting the pail that was thrown at her face just as she heard steps approaching her bed from around the corner. She didn’t think anything was going to happen, but she readied her hands anyways, tensing on the balls of her feet, ready to spring into action as her mom rounded the corner, and snapped “There you are, you should be halfway out the door by now, get moving Sienna, we don't have time for you to sit around on your lazy ass.”

Sienna let her shoulders drop, the berating wasn’t fun but it was far from the worst that she expected from her mother coming around the corner after she took too long in the mornings, so she counted it as a win, and quickly hurried to the kitchen to snap up whatever food she could find, in this case some bread from dinner the night before and a bit of soft cheese she had stashed in a cupboard her parents rarely checked. Spreading the cheese onto the bread after warming the latter over the already hot furnace, she bit softly into it to hold it in her teeth as she picked up the broom leaning against the wall, slipped the trowel she made years ago into her waistband, and dropped an extra roll of bandages into her pocket. Sienna mumbled goodbyes to her father, who grunted but barely looked up from the red hot metal he was working into chain links on the anvil.

Tag List (ive added everyone who showed interest on the poll, if youd like to be removed from the tag list please let me know):

@alicethethreshershark @useless-transbian @shark-tranny @theasexualagent @bikindashyandreadytocry @toppettehat @twohundredfiftynine @spaghettihell @thesillytransgirlnova @lostshulkerbox

[dec0ra-grl]

He was immediately covered in puke.

[0viraptoraskblog]

First Time for Everything 🦊

Chapter 31 is out!

Here

I finally finished it! It’s been so long but I had a few days to make last minute changes so I could post it :) Sorry for the wait!

[stoptakingthegoodname5]

Idk some of y’all liked the Zhogan post I did 🤷🏻‍♂️ first time I’m writing sooooo

(⚠️Again this is a small rpf fic just scroll, I’m not going to repeat myself⚠️)

/ Just your regular little Bass Pro date /

It was another sunny day in Texas which Zhou didn’t understood, as the big state was still reaching the high 70°s in October! Which in his mind wasn’t really setting right with him usually in any other countries this time of year would be gloomy and cold but not this god forsaken state!

Zhou walked around the hotel with a soft yawn after landing in Austin after the long flight from Singapore due to last weekends race. He wasn’t having it this morning as his head pounded due to the severe headache from jet lag. Walking into the living room and saw Logan all bright and early with a cheeky smile on his face “Hey!” He said in a way Zhou wished he can portray this early in the fucking morning…

“Hey” He said groggily and borderline pissed off as he has to wake up bright and early, walking to the small kitchen he opens a cabinet above the tabletop microwave to grab bottle of painkillers. Logan looked over and sighed concerned “Headache again bro…?” to which Zhou replied with a soft nod as he took the glass of water and downed the pill “Jet lag killed me this time… 21 hours of no sleep” he said to his boyfriend softly whistled “Jeez… 21 hours? Now I see why you’re all cranky…”

Zhou looked at him pissed as Logan did his usual snarky antics ‘prick….’ he said in his mind “ha ha… you’re so funny bro.” The annoyed man said sarcastically as he really didn’t want to tolerate his boyfriend’s antics, Logan took it into consideration and nods as he raised his hands “sorry babe sorry.” smiling he looked at the food in the counter.

“After dinner I was thinking of going to Bass Pro to just look around.” He said casually as Zhou looked at him in an annoyed expression and with a soft eye roll “Really dude Again? Swear all the time you go to this damn shop to spend money, what’s so important of this place?”

Logan gasped dramatically as he faked innocence “I don’t ALWAYS go there!” But he knew he was lying as Zhou did the usual eye narrowing when Logan lied, he sighed softly and grumbled “fine. It’s an addiction….” Logan said in a soft whisper in defeat, Zhou smiled in victory as Logan looked at him softly “Do you want to come this time? Promise I’ll make it fun for your first time”

Zhou never took the opportunity into consideration and well it’s a Monday and they have nothing planned for the day and he nods softly “fine I’ll go to this “Bass Pro” to see all the hype. It will be like a regular Bass Pro Date” Logan smiled to that and nods “yeah… just a regular Bass Pro date. Now get ready I’ll be in the car”

With that Zhou smiled softly and walked back to the room to change…

(AAAAAA I’m done 😭😭😭 hope this isn’t an eye sore to you guys as I tried not to run on with many sentences! Anyway the people who wanted me to do this will be mentioned ❤️ @kichona-s @midnight-grandprix maybe this will be a series if the people like it)

[livefromsummerview]

There's a guy running around shooting people with a crossbow. Again.

[lilgillybean]

Because Oasis wouldn't give Abi Morgan the rights this had to happen.

[blitzy-blitzwing]

Aw right, let’s write it out. 💪😤