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rosierin · 3 years

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Studying with you

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

synopsis: after finding out about your gradually decreasing grades, your teacher urges you to change your studying methods and decides to find you a tutor among the class. shame that tutor is literally the biggest jerk known to man. you swear he knows nothing but insults and that his heart is made of stone. or is it?

genre: fluff

type: oneshot

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i hate love this guy, srsly

"Oi, (y/n). Wake up, we're not finished."

Your head jerks up and you let out a loud, drawn out groan as your eyes refocus on the man in front of you. He's sneering, same as usual, and you wish you could suddenly go back to dream land where you were happily baking cookies with Hinata and Kageyama.

Beneath your arms are two gaping algebra textbooks. One is riddled with scribbly notes and an unnecessary amount of pointless doodles, except the one of Tsukishima— scowling with a head drawn way too big compared to the rest of his skinny body. The other is filled with neat, detailed formulas, pastel highlights and all the correct answers which you've been struggling to find for the past two hours.

"I'm up, I'm up, geez.." You yawn with your head still on the table and look up at Tsukishima with drowsy eyes. "You could've woken me up a little nicer, ya know."

"Yeah.. no. How about you hurry up and finish so I can go home?" He looks more than done at this point and huffs, pointing at a formula jotted messily on your paper. "And you got that one wrong again, by the way."

You squint at your work, then realize he was right. "Oh. My bad."

Wanting to get things over with, you get back to work but your eyelids are so heavy it's ridiculous. Not to mention your brainpower has reached its limit.

You can feel your grip on your pen loosen as you try and correct your work but before you know it, your head drops again, only to be jolted awake by a sudden smack to the back of the head with what feels like a textbook.

"What the— Do you mind?!" You snap.

Tsukishima doesn't react to your outburst in the slightest, just nods to your unfinished work with a look of lazy authority. "Algebra." He stares at you with a deadpan expression when you pout. "Now."

"Fiiine." You sigh, annoyed that your puppy dog eyes didn't work on Tsukishima. Not that you thought they would. Tsukishima didn't seem like the type to particularly like animals, except maybe for dinosaurs. He had a small keychain of one buried deep within his pencil case, you found. "You know, you'd make a terrible teacher."

This time, it's Tsukishima's turn to yawn, stretching his long limbs and you have to force yourself not to focus on the pull of his lean muscles despite yourself. Then, he turns to look at you with a look of false innocence. "Sorry, go on?"

"I hate you."

"Great. Now ask me if I care."

You suck in through your teeth as you hold back from socking the blonde straight in the face. He's been sassing you non-stop since the beginning of your study session and you'd think you'd be used to his perpetual cocky remarks by now but alas, he was still a huge pain in your ass.

"Where're you going?" You ask as Tsukishima gets up from his chair that's in front of your desk, dusting the eraser shavings off your textbooks.

"Aw. Think you'll miss me?"

You bite your lip down and he notices, smirking contently before deciding to answer: "going to get some water. That question better be finished by the time I get back."

He's gone before you can retort, long legs granting him a quick escape. However halfway down the hallway you hear him add: "or I'll make you do three more."

Great.

"Yessir," you sigh, though you have absolutely no intention of following through.

You glance down at your textbooks for good measure— textbooks which are practically staring at you, and you can picture them with beady little eyes as though they're chanting— soooolve ussss.

You shudder. Man, you really were tired.

"Yeah, no. Sorry, Tsukki."

Pushing your homework aside, unfazed by your salty tutor's threats, you decide it's time for an actual break. You deserved it, right? Yeah, yeah you did. So without second thought, you let your attention drift to the scenery outside instead.

You'd been so focused on your homework (and Tsukishima's sass) that you hadn't even noticed the beautiful sunset that was now setting over the hills of Karasuno High. You always loved the way it looked at this hour, basking the buildings and tall, lush trees in its warm light. It was all too soothing, so soothing that you hadn't even realized you were once more falling asleep, eyeslids fighting to stay open until they finally gave in and what little willpower you had left, left your body.

"Right, time's up. You better be finish—"

The moment Tsukishima walks back into the classroom, eyes settling on your current state— sprawled out on your desk, mouth slightly agape and completely out cold, he's overcome with the urge to sigh.

He walks over to your desk and sits down opposite you, then as he leans his cheek into his palm, he lazily pokes your cheek— once, twice, but gets no reaction in response.

"You've got to be kidding me.." He sighs. But he decides to not bother and wake you up this time. What'd be the point? You clearly weren't in any shape to study and honestly, he didn't have the patience in him anymore to try in case it'd drive him crazy.

For a second he debates just leaving you there, passed out of your classroom desk, but quickly decides against it in case he gets an earful from your parents about leaving you alone or something. The last thing he wants is any extra trouble.

Therefore he agrees, albeit begrudgingly, to let you sleep. Just until you were rested up enough to work again.

⭐

Thirty minutes go by, you're still fast asleep.

During that time, Tsukishima took it upon himself to slip his headphones on and listen to some beats, hazel eyes flitting beyond the window to watch the last of the sunset, hoping it'd make the time go by quicker.

Usually, this would be right up his alley; peace and quiet, chill lofi and a sunset, however when sat on a painfully uncomfortable, wooden chair rather than his comfy and plump single bed, the experience was significantly less appealing. Therefore, after trying to find a comfortable sitting position and failing for the fourth time he decides to take his headphones off and focus back on his studies— he might as well, only when he reaches for his pen, he realizes it isn't there.

Amber eyes scan the table. Usually it'd be in his pencil case; he doesn't remember taking it ou—

Ah, never mind. It all makes sense when he sees it. Not in his pencil case after all, but balanced precariously between your fingers.

He rolls his eyes.

Why didn't she just use her own pen?

Reaching for it, he attempts to pull it out of your grasp only to freeze when you begin to stir.

He doesn't know why at this point— he could just wake you up, that's what he'd initially planned. But now, for some reason, there's something that prevents him from doing so. Maybe it had something to do with the way you were sleeping so peacefully.

He tries to pull at his pen again— gently— but this time, it isn't you stirring that makes him seize up, but the way your index and middle finger hook around his own.

His brain stutters.

Well, this is new.

Tsukishima's back straightens an awkward amount, completely unsure of what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before. He becomes painfully aware of that. He's also painfully aware that you could possibly wake up while holding him like this.

Thankfully, you don't. And although the tenseness of his body is beginning to hurt, he still takes the time to admire your sleeping form.

You're laying crossed armed, head nestled between them, facing him. He watches your body rise and fall ever so gently, can almost hear your quiet breaths. It's picturesque, almost; the way your hair glows beneath the bright full moon. Unknowingly, his thumb twitches nearer, gravitating towards the warmth of your hand and he can almost feel—

"Enjoying yourself there?"

Suddenly he's frozen. Though it only lasts a second, for the next he's already retracted his hand, folding it under his arm like it was never there to begin with.

"Wh— How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough," you say, smiling curiously at him and for once the tables have been turned; the teased having become the teaser. "So you can be nice sometimes."

Tsukishima's expression is anything but impressed as you mock him, his face caught between confused and annoyed, and dare you say even a little bit embarrassed? He's quick to shake it off though, sparing himself of any sly comment as he regains his usual cool demeanor.

"Please. You're the one who grabbed me first," he scoffs.

"But you didn't try to move," you shoot back.

There's a strange atmosphere that settles in the room as your mishief-glinting eyes bore into his, and Tsukishima doesn't dare talk back for once, having been robbed of all witty comebacks. He hates being at a loss for words, but he hates even more so, the beginnings of a grin forming on your features, one that he knows is a result of his shortcomings.

"Whatever, (y/n) just pack up your stuff. We're done for the night," he says as he himself starts tidying his belongings.

You chuckle then nod your head. "Sure thing, sensei."

"...don't call me that."

"Sensei."

"Urgh, shut up."

⭐

Later that night, when you're lying in bed, ready to fall asleep, your eyes snap open as your phone buzzes underneath your pillow. You pull it out and press the home button, wondering who could possibly be texting you at this hour. When you do, you're surprised when it's Tsukishima's ID that pops up.

He had sent one message:

"Oh and by the way, you drool when you sleep."

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haddonfieldproject · 3 years

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<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.3.14 SATURDAY NOVEMBER 1st, 2:22 PM

Haddonfield, Illinois

Virginia's head was buried in James Tramer's chest, as it had been most of the entire day. They sat in the small but comfortable chairs inside Deputy Meeker's office, facing his desk. James had run his eyes around the contents of the desk and the office over a million times in the last few hours, not really looking at the items around him, but kind of looking through them.

Sure, he processed the embossed gold nameplate that read: DEPUTY MEEKER flanked by two small flags, one the American stars and stripes, the other the flag of the Marines. He saw the Chicago Bears coffee mug that held various pens and pencils. He saw the stapler and the roll of tape, and the large desk calendar that was still stuck in October.

Gotta lift it up to view November, he thought almost mechanically. My son Ben will never see November.

Anabel Gillespie from Yuva's Funeral Home had pulled Deputy Meeker's high officer chair over beside them. She now sat talking, holding the brochure out for them to see. Jim wasn't looking, and he wasn't listening. His eyes hovered over the wall behind the desk. The plaque from the Marines, awards from the Warren County police department, a picture of then Staff Sergeant Meeker on tour of duty in Kosovo. There was a picture of Deputy Meeker and Sheriff Brackett standing behind fifteen smiling kids. They wore blue and red baseball uniforms imprinted with the words Warriors on the front and Cleveland Indians hats. The title at the top read: WARREN COUNTY WARRIORS LITTLE LEAGUE STATE CHAMPIONS 2A 2009. Another at the bottom read: SPONSORED BY JAMIE LEE'S DINER HADDONFIELD ILLINOIS.

Second from the top left, Jim had spotted his son. Right field. He mused. Ben couldn't hit a baseball with a tennis racket. Ben Tramer had ditched little league baseball for Pop Warner football not too long after that, and had become a star Wide Receiever for the Haddonfield High School Huskers not long after that. On Jim's kitchen table right now there were acceptance letters from Quincy, Slippery Rock, Urbana, Ashland and other Division 2 football schools. The big schools had been down on Ben for his size, Jim thought now, He could have walked on at Northwestern, I know he could have.

His glanced turned to the flatscreen television mounted in the corner. The news was showing the footage of the bodies being taken from the old Myers home. The title at the bottom of the screen read: DEATH TOLL RISING IN ILLINOIS MASSACRE. Jim averted his eyes, coming down to a Chicago Cubs pennant tacked to the paneling on the right wall near the TV. I wonder who won that game last night, he thought. It had gone too late, he had just not been able to keep his eyes open to finish it. He thought now about how important that game had seemed just a few hours ago and how he had not thought of it at all until just now.

“So did you decide?” He heard a voice.

Jim was still thinking about the baseball game.

“Mr. Tramer?”

Jim shook his head startled. Virginia lifted her head from his chest and looked at him puzzingly as he looked over toward Anabel.

“What?” He croaked dryly.

“Have you decided which coffin you would like to go with?” She asked.

Virginia whimpered and returned her face to his chest.

Jim cut his glance from Anabel to behind her where Officer Mullenix stood in the doorway which led out to the rest of the police station. Mullenix was staring back at him, sipping his coffee out of a mug that read: WORLD'S OKAYEST EMPLOYEE.

Jim opened his mouth to answer, then closed it, then cocked his head to one side, cleared his throat and asked, “Where is Mr. Gudipati?”

Anabel looked from Jim back over her shoulder to Officer Mullenix and then back to Jim again. “Mr. Tramer, Mr. Gudipati's brother was also killed last night. He is on family leave.”

Jim frowned and shook his head, “That's a shame, an awful shame. Rajesh Gudipati ran a fine store. The restrooms were always clean.”

Anabel frowned. Officer Mullenix took a sip of his coffee and said, “Ms. Gillespie, perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Tramer are still not up to looking at the---information.”

Anabel was about to speak but Jim waved and cut her off, “Nonsense Officer. I'm sorry, let me see them again.”

Anabel passed over the brochure and Jim took it. The first thing his eyes saw was a tiny blue urn with a silver teddy bear on it, something you would get for an infant. There was a noise in the corridor behind Officer Mullenix that startled them and he saw no more.

“Hold up! Where are they?!” A woman's voice demanded.

A large black woman pressed herself passed Officer Mullenix into the office, her ample bosom scraping past him. She wore a fake blonde wig and a large floral print dress to cover her voluptious body. Her drawn-on eye brows raised when she saw Jim and Virginia and she smiled, extending a hand decorated with three inch fingernails painted bright yellow. “Hi Mr. and Mrs. Tramer, I'm Ureta Johnson, attorney at Johnson Sloan and Johnson, what have you told these fools?”

Virginia lifted her head.

“I'm sorry, what?” Jim asked dryly.

“These murdering police officers, have you told them anything?” Ureta put her hands on her hip.

“Hold on there--” Officer Mullenix began.

Ureta cut him off, “You hold on there trigger happy! I think I need to be alone with my clients so why don't you just scurry away there porky pig,” she cut a glance to Anabel, “you too blondie.”

Jim frowned, “I don't think we're gonna need representation.”

Ureta frowned back, “Honey, your beautiful black baby boy was gunned down in the street last night while unarmed by white police officers. What do you mean you don't need representation?”

“Wait just a damn minute--” Officer Mullenix tried again.

Ureta held up her finger and was about to speak but Jim interjected, “I don't think it was like---”

This time, Virginia interrupted. She pulled her face from his chest, her eyes rimmed with tears and as bloodshot as a day drunk. She spoke the first intelligible words she had uttered all day.

“Like what James?” she said, her voice growing louder as she spoke, “Our son—my baby boy, was just out trick or treating like all the other kids,” she pointed her finger at Officer Mullenix, “and these bastards shot him dead! Shot him dead for no reason!”

Jim looked at his wife, then at the lawyer, then Anabel, then Officer Mullenix. He did not know what to say. He hadn't anticipated this at all.

“Anabel,” Officer Mullenix said softly.

She looked at him, her eyes wide in confusion.

“Anabel come with me. Let's give these people some time alone.”

Anabel stood up like a shot and pushed passed Officer Mullenix.

Ureta grunted, “That's right. Give these people some time alone.”

Mullenix forced a friendly smile, “Take all the time you need.”

NEXT>> (COMING SOON)

#halloween #halloween franchise #michael myers #horror #haddonfield #horror writing #horror film #fan fiction #fan writing #spooky

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coffeeismyblo0d · 3 years

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By The Society's Needs

TW // Minor Misgendering

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The sound rang through Aspen's already tired ears, reminding them of what was to be expected, and what was not to be expected. They turned, looking at their annoyingly loud phone which displayed the time: 7:05.

Aspen slammed their hand down on the phone, sighing softly as it shut off the alarm, which felt glorious to them this early the morning. They heard the loud yelling of their neighbors, who were just on the other side of the thin walls. They also heard a rather loud thumping noise, of which they desperately hoped was a exercise machine upstairs, despite knowing the truth behind it.

Aspen launched themselves up, stretching their arms and back out. This had been part of their routine for a while, the only exceptions coming during sick days, which were few in numbers, fortunately. Aspen looked around their room for a moment, trying to find what they were looking for amongst the littered sketches of outfits to be.

"Ah yes, there you are." They held their rediscovered binder up in triumph, despite being alone at the moment. Their binder was special to them of course. After all, it sealed a lot of insecurities about their body away with what little changes it made.

Aspen hopped on one foot as they tried pull both the binder and a sock on at the same time. Of course, this was a major struggle for them, as the binder was a binder, and a sock is on your foot. Both were on opposite points of the body.

Aspen turned toward the full length mirror in their room, despite one sock halfway off of their foot. They hummed, tilting their head at themselves.

"What should we go for today bud..?" They looked at their succulent. "Of course, you're throwing a fit. I'm sorry but too much water might kill you." They giggled softly, clipping the binder back enough so it fully reduced everything. "There. I think that will look great."

"And we'll go...." Aspen looked at the closet full of outfits, outfits that fit many different moods and aesthetics. They grabbed an outfit that included items sewn by them themselves, such as overalls, an 'ugly' sweater, and others that went along with them. Aspen chose a pair of short boots as an addition to the outfit, smiling. "I think I'm going to look great today. "

They turned towards the clock on their bedside table, which had been handpainted by a local artist. The clock read 7:15. Aspen smiled. "Right on track, I am."

Once done getting dressed, Aspen grabbed their bag and walked out the door, rubbing their eyes. How they were still tired, was a question that would likely be left unanswered.

"Let's hope you start..." Aspen muttered, turning their key in the car. They let out a sigh of relief as it turned on without stalling as they attempted to turn music on. "Thank you..."

They started their drive to work, groaning as their music refused to load. "At least the car started, that's all I could ask for.." They muttered, eyeing their bag of fabric and other assorted sewing items. A bag that hadn't been touched in a long time.

"Someday buddy, someday." Aspen patted the bag, waiting in traffic. Their eyes drifted over for just a moment, seeing the scammer like looking teen on the sidewalk. Every place had scams, even if you lived somewhere remote. And the bustling city was no exception to this rule, especially downtown.

As soon as they were able, Aspen continued driving. They loved yet hated the activity. They loved it because it gave them inspiration,and they hated it because it was terrifying.

Another reason to hate driving was where it took Aspen. The job yet to enlighten them was kept only because of Aspen's license. A license that Aspen wishes would have been nonexistent, and would allow them to live a life. A life where their own business was possible.

The job may have felt constricting, but Aspen didn't want to get into a deeper hole than the one they were already in financially. The job supported them. There was no way-if they were sane- that they would quit.

"Astroplanes." Aspen muttered as they pulled up to the big building. "The bane of my existence."

The building itself wasn't decked out in anything too special. The logo was in neon lights, but that was otherwise it for the dread filled building. Remove the logo, and it would likely be unrecognizable next to it's store counterpart.

The inside of each building was different in it's own way, aside from the store being the store, and the building being where everything was designed. The employees at the store seemed much more interactive and alive, even if on their last strain of life. Where as in here, they seemed dead, with few of the employees cheerful.

"Morning." Aspen's coworker waved, sipping her coffee as she walked past them. "The big lady is here today." She sighed. "Just warnin' ya kid."

"Well that's great. " Aspen smiled, sounding cheerful to their fellow worker. Inside, they were screaming in rage, because corporate officials were always unpleasant.

Aspen sat down at their workspace, pulling out the sketchbook they saved for work. It was filled with ideas they wanted to fulfill, but couldn't, and ones they didn't quite enjoy, but knew were required to produce into a true product.

In Aspen's eyes, fashion was fluid, and had no limits. There was no feminine or masculine in what they saw, because they wanted their demographic to wear what they saw as validating. There was no limit to how 'crazy' a look could be in Aspen's head. Everyone should have their size that fits and look great, was something along the lines of Aspen's thinking.

Astroplanes differed very much from one of their many overworked employees, as one expensive company does. They marketed everything towards women, and made everything feminine. There was nothing super crazy,and looks lacked simple, yet amplifying touches, such as a single patch. The sizes for what was sold the most didn't expand far, and many things marketed as plus size were not considered as fashion as the mainstream products.

Aspen had nothing against the clothes themselves, because an outfit looks great to someone no matter what the outfit is made of. It was the way that Astroplanes went about their products, and how employees and customers alike were treated that didn't sit right with Aspen.

They couldn't help but wonder what went through someone's head to not acknowledge the truth about companies like Astroplanes. Then again, they knew it'd be pointless to point out flaws, as they'd just get squished like the tiniest ant outside of it's hill.

Aspen sighed as they stared at the blank page, tapping the eraser of their pencil on the woodtop desk. They started sketching, looking at the figure they had drawn. They continued to sketch, drawing whatever they pleased, ignoring the tall slim woman in the background.

The result was spectacular, in short. It displayed a colorful suit, of which did not particularly define the model's identity.

"What is this?"

"I-" Aspen turned, met with the bright red face of the company's owner, who was clearly angry. "It's my own design ma'am. "

"We can not have this." The woman scoffed. "This is far beyond the goals of my company!"

"I apologi-"

"You absolute digust of a woman!" She spat, her eyes narrowed. "I never want something like that ever again, especially from you."

Aspen resisted the urge to reach up and punch the company's owner. They were beyond angry at getting yelled at for a design, and offended by the incorrect use of pronouns, when they had a very visible pin on their jacket reading 'THEY/THEM'.

"Yes ma'am. " Aspen responded, trying to sound as kind as possible after the last moment.

They watched the woman walk away. They let out a sigh of relief and rolled their eyes. They flipped to a different page in their sketchbook, starting on a completely different design from the supposedly troublesome one.

The rest of the day would go along fairly smooth for Aspen, with nothing other than the usual annoyances bothering them, sucha as a lazy coworker complaining that no one would get fabric for them.

Aspen sat alone while on their lunch break, listening to music as usually did. Nothing else had changed from doing it's normal way of doing things. Unless you counted Aspen constantly thinking about the event that had happened earlier, at the beginning of the day, then that counts.

"Still sucks here." Aspen muttered, looking at the building as they left, long after their last free breath of air while on lunch. "Things never change, do they?"

They turned on a random Spotify playlist once they got in their car, tossing their work bag into the passenger seat of the car. They sighed, turning the key to their car a few times to get it to start.

"At least I have my car, right?" Aspen muttered to themselves, backing out of the parking spot before having to halt to a stop, with their coworker Tammy trying to get out of the parking lot. They heard indistinct yelling, a car horn, and then screeching tires.

'They never fail to amaze me.' Aspen thought, their green eyes staring at the road. 'I wonder what goes on in the small mind they possess. '

They left the parking lot, just letting their thoughts whizz by as they pleased, in fear they would focus on the bad of the day. The music helped, serving as a good distraction that didn't distract Aspen from driving.

Thankfully, the drive home was not too bad for Aspen after all. They didn't die.

They fixed themselves a quick dinner once they had changed into more comfortable clothes after getting home. The dinner in question as really just a hot pocket, but Aspen could care less.

They checked their plants and made sure they were alright, watering the ones whose soil was dry. They stretched their torso out, sighing as their shoulders became less tense and relaxed.

They then watched a bit of whatever they felt like watching. Aspen knew they didn't have particularly good taste, but could care less at that moment.

Aspen went to bed once they had finished watching their show, curling up in a ball on their side underneath the warm blanket. They managed to fall asleep after twenty minutes of empty thought, knowing the next day would be the same.

#story #nonbinary #original work

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immiesradio-blog · 5 years

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You’re My Best Friend ~ Roger Taylor x OC 1

Chapter 1

September 1967 Barbara's P.O.V

I stepped off of the carriage, feeling an extreme wave of tiredness flow over me. The journey had felt as though it had lasted forever, I hadn't travelled this far in my life so far and it was unspeakably boring alone. I couldn't help but think that if me and Roger hadn't had that argument and were still friends, that I wouldn't have been on my own while travelling to London, the journey would've been at least more bearable, definitely filled with laughs and amusement.

My backpack dug into my shoulder as I moved forward, dragging my suitcase with me. London was already so different, it was most definitely an unfamiliar surrounding and not like the quietness and serenity that I was so used to in Truro.

Throughout the last part of my journey to Ealing Art College, my face was frowning as I thought about how this had been both me and Roger's dream, our dream, and now it was just my own. I missed him more than anything and hadn't stopped thinking about what I had said to him that day, a year or so ago now. He was my best friend and I had completely and utterly fucked it up. It seemed as though he had forgotten me, left me behind. The last I heard of Roger was that apparently he was still with 'The Reaction', still relatively popular and surrounded by girls who were completely and utterly in awe of him.

I couldn't not be happy for him, doing music is what he was meant to do and that was one of the last things that I had told him, I still go by my word, I just wished that I had been by his side as he lived his dream.

I had reached Ealing art college in short time. The building was beautiful, everything that I had ever dreamed of. It was quite a large site and there were already people making their way to sign in although nothing officially started until next week Monday. A middle aged woman had been the one to cross off my name and direct me to the apartment that I had paid for to stay in with a roommate who I had just found out was a woman named Stella. The walk was nothing, the apartment was just a few minutes away, it was quite pretty outside, not what I was expecting at all. The exterior was painted a pastel blue which was very faded with a few empty plant boxes in front of the only window.

I came to the conclusion that I had made the right decision to stay off site since I'd definitely have more freedom, depending on Stella, my supposed roommate. I had worked so hard during the summer in order to pay my half of this apartment, my parents, especially my father, were furious with me. I had been given the cold shoulder from the both of them, they refused to help with any money related issues such as my ticket to travel to London and the apartment, I had arranged it all by myself.

The interior of the apartment was very basic, included everything I needed in order to live, it just didn't really look appealing to me, nothing I wouldn't be able to fix though. One bathroom without a bath, two tiny bedrooms, a very small kitchen attached to the living room and a balcony, it was enough.

Unpacking hadn't taken that long and when I was done I had jumped straight onto the squeaky sofa, laying back as I closed my eyes, feeling extremely tired after such a long afternoon.

I heard the door unlock, my eyes shot straight open, thinking that someone was trying to break in, and then suddenly realising that I was sharing this apartment with someone else, must be Stella.

A girl peaked into the living room, blonde, blue eyes. She suddenly smiled when she saw me lounging on the sofa, "Hi, I'm Stella!"

I sat up, smiling back at her, "Hiya, I'm Ba-,"

"Barbara, yes I know! Lady at the desk told me," she interrupted, giggling a little, "Nice to meet you, I see you've already made yourself comfortable."

"You too!" I reply, letting out a laugh at her remark. She seemed to be really nice, already very easy to talk to, not awkward at all, I liked her. I was very skeptical about sharing a place with someone else who I had never met before, I was definitely not expecting someone as nice as her.

"I'm going to have a look around," she tells me.

I relaxed myself again, leaning further back and closing my eyes.

"We will probably be fighting over the shower a lot!" I hear her call, "Only one bathroom!"

"I know! I'll try not to hog it!" I call back.

For the rest of the afternoon and evening me and Stella got to know each other, the conversation flowed very easily and we found ourselves laughing about the shitty springs in our beds. I had also found out that she was interested in fashion and was studying textiles at college, she was also a year older than me and that her parents had practically kicked her out.

"Where have you come from then?" She asks, lifting her cigarette up to her lips, breathing in before tapping the ashes away out of the window.

"Truro."

"Truro?"

"A little town in cornwall."

"Ah, cornwall! I've heard that it's beautiful there," she replies, "why in the hell would you come here?"

I let out a long sigh, smiling a little, "I don't really know anymore, just been my dream to come and study here, I'll miss cornwall very much," I tell her, only thinking of Roger as these words left my lips, he was the one that I'd miss.

Monday had soon come and I had woken up very early, as did Stella since she also had a lesson to go to in a few hours. We walked together down the street towards the college site, there were many others doing the same, presumably new and old students all together. Me and Stella along with the rest of the new students were given a tour around the building and had also been directed towards the rooms that we had been allocated.

The inside of the college was just as nice as the outside, there were artworks hung up that previous students had created as their final pieces. Stella looked just as excited as me, we exchanged impressed looks all the way through the little tour.

"Meet me here after you've finished!" She says as she points at her Textiles room, flashing me a big smile as she waves and disappears into the room.

I made my way to the Graphic design room, followed the directions that I had been given, missing a few turns and retracing my steps until I had finally found the correct room.

There were already people in the room, some still working, others, probably the new students were sat down around the tables in the middle of the room. Some of the new students were already talking to each other, others were sat in silence and I sat down at an empty table, waiting for the tutor to arrive.

He came rushing into the room around ten minutes after I had arrived, "Sorry I'm late everybody."

Mr Wright had introduced himself and had also told us the ins and outs of the course, what we were to do, handing out sketchbooks and directing us to other rooms which we had access to. He also got to know us a little, asking us for our names followed by telling us to get on with what it was we were planning to do.

It was very ambiguous and I had no idea what I was doing, some others didn't either, others got to working immediately. I stood myself up, looking around at all the equipment and materials we had been given, where everything was.

I was lingering around the materials, not knowing what to take and also just not knowing what I was doing in general, I didn't know where to start. A boy had suddenly stood next to me, grabbing a few pencils and halted when he saw me just stood still, dumbfounded.

"Would you like any help?" I hear him ask, feeling his eyes watching me as I continued to stare down at the cupboard in front of me.

"I er- sure, I have no idea what I'm doing," I reply, averting my eyes to him. Immediately my mind was taken aback by how attractive he was, very dark brown- almost black hair, brown eyes, a very structured face and very prominent cheekbones.

He smiled a little crooked smile, "I'm Freddie Bulsara, I love your earrings," he introduces himself, still smiling as he studies my face.

I feel heat rush up to my cheeks feeling a little weak to the knees, I manage to mutter a 'thanks'. I felt so stupid since I didn't particularly want to find anyone attractive at all, I wanted to focus on my design, only due to my poor taste in the opposite sex, after Steve Harrington I had no confidence in pursuing a relationship with anybody as of right now. I shook the feeling off as I pulled myself together, but probably coming across as being one of the most peculiar creatures.

"Are you more the illustrative type?" He asks, a hint of a smirk showing on his lips, his front teeth showing slightly. He was even more attractive in an odd sort of way.

"Yeah."

"Like me! Follow me, take some pencils, we're going to the practical room."

I followed him towards the room, one that the Graphics students had access to. Only one other person was in the room working, very concentrated and hadn't even noticed that anyone had come in. Me and Freddie sat at the other side of the room, he had given me a few ideas on what to do to start off with and gave me some advice about what he had done when he first started here. I got stuck in drawing a few figures, picturing something in my head and drawing it through lines, it seemed like a good start.

After a lesson of being surprisingly productive, me and Freddie had engaged in lots of conversation, he came across as being a very kind and thoughtful person. I was quite drawn to him and his exotic look, he was very different to any other male I'd seen in his style, he was also very hilarious in his manner and his jokes.

I was so caught up in laughing at almost everything that he was saying that I hadn't noticed that Stella was waiting for me outside. It took a fake cough for me and Freddie to notice her presence, she was watching us with a little smirk, "Come on Barbara, I've been waiting for almost fifteen minutes!"

"I better go, I'll see you tomorrow?" I shift my head towards Freddie again, hoping that I will get see him, I already felt comfortable around him, he was so kind, genuine and friendly, I was very sure that we'd be good friends.

He smiled a little, "Of course you will."

As me and Stella walked along the street, she wouldn't shut up about Freddie, giggling and teasing me, "He seemed to really like you."

I shrugged in response, "Really?" trying to sound unbothered by her statement.

"Hell yes. He was quite attractive Barbara, very exotic, I'd go there." She teased, pinching my arm as she giggled.

I laughed loudly as we continued to skip down the street, large grins on our faces. I couldn't believe how close me and Stella were after only a few days of knowing each other, similarly with Freddie. I hadn't been this amused or entertained by anything since Roger had been around. I was beginning to think that maybe this was my way of moving on from my ex best friend, maybe Stella and Freddie were to mean as much to me as Roger once did, maybe I'd stop thinking about him as much, forget him like he had seemed to forget me.

Maybe things were going to begin looking up for me.

____________________________________

Hayooooooo

Had to rewrite and republish this chapter since I had deleted the last one in my sleep, don't ask😂😂😂 don't know that happened.

Chapter 2 should be published tomorrow, hope u liked the chapter anywho :)))

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x oc #oc #barbara rosabella #barbara palvin #fanfic #fanfiction #love #love story #romance #romantic #slowburn #queen #queen x reader #queen x oc #best friends #best friend #music

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