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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year

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Hello there 👋

Can you talk about why you feel the way you do about the female bsd characters? (including the female characters you like) and while I don't think the author doesn't know how to write female characters I think the biggest problem with the female characters is that they're underutilized and barely have much screentime ( the most one we saw recently having screentime currently in the manga is teruko)

Hi!! I love you all SO much but seriously I don't have the mental stability to talk about why the bsd female characters are badly written ahah. Here's my best attempt at it:

I hope it's enough for me to say there's a female / male characters proportion of like 1:10, and no female character has any real repercussion on the plot– literally. Besides from Kyouka and Lucy and maybe Yosano? you could hypothetically erease every other female character and... Realistically, nothing would change. That's just how much irrelevant all but three female characters are, and there's already very few compared to the rest of the male cast. The four main / most popular characters are all males. Dazai is openly sexist and it's just kind of there never to be addressed. Akutagawa is repetedly violent with his female coworker and it's treated as a gag (like you DO realize how repulsive it is to write a character who is obsessed with her abuser and never be intentioned to elaborate on that because I guess that's what women are supposed to do according to author? Like. okay). But honestly the main issue for me is how each of them literally gravitates around another male character. God, it's SO annoying. And I mean every single of them!!! Every. single. Every single!!!! I struggle to come up with even one exception to the pattern. Kyouka has Atsushi as her savior, Lucy has Atsushi as her savior, Higuchi is obsessed with Akutagawa, Naomi is obsessed with Jun'ichirou, Gin literally exists because of Akutagawa, Alcott is just there to aid Fitzgerald, Margaret's only role in the story is to save Hawthorne, Elise is just expression of Mori. Teruko is a person in the body of a child who literally drools over her 50-something superior, like we hadn't as a society come to the common agreement that the “not as old as she looks” trope was disgusting pedophilia apologism like ten years ago (but it's okay though, because pedophilia was established to be okay in this manga at like, chapter 15 or something) (is this the good time to bring up that time Aya asked Kunikida out? No? Okay let's just collectively pretend that never happened). Do I need to go on? I haven't read Gaiden, but do I really need to read it to know Tsujimura gravitates around Ayatsuji? Oh wait, I was just remembered about Gaiden's full title: Bungou Stray Dogs Gaiden: Ayatsuji Yukito VS. Kyougoku Natsuhiko, and if that doesn't speak of the consideration author gives their female characters, I don't know what does. It's just– no female character is ever going to have their own novel. No female character is ever going to be protagonist. They'll just keep being treated as they've always been so far, like flat and personality-less disposable plot devices.

Now. I love Yosano's backstory, I really do- I think it was the best executed arc of the manga, reading those two chapter still gives me chills. But you do have to acknowledge, Yosano herself has no agency in the entire arc development. It's okay, she was eleven, it's natural; but she is just tossed one way to the other by other characters. That, and I can't stretch it enough, is not a bad thing on its own; not all stories have to scream #womanpower to be good stories. It's a good story. But you need to acknowledge it does nothing to empower female characters' role in this manga; it just speaks once again of it being a systematic problem, how author can't write female characters like they were masters of their fate if their life depended on it. And it's not that just because there's one (1) mini arc that happens to have a female character as its protagonist, author knows how to write female characters with depth, or agenda, or an objective, or personality, because... They clearly don't.

Like. I probably became annoying by now but like. When was the last time you found any bsd fan whose favorite character was a woman? When was the last time you found people describing themselves as a Lucy kinnie? If you ask me, it's not a matter of fans' fault for overlooking female characters; the female characters in this franchise are meant to be overlooked, because they're abysmally less stretched out and complex compared to their male counterparts– because male characters are distinctive and unique, while author can't go outside the range of one-dimensional femme fatale, letal woman (Yosano, Kouyou, Teruko, Christie, Gin / Lucy / Elise too to an extent) and woman who's just there to obsess over a male character (Alcott, Higuchi). But do not fret, because author will sometimes go outside that scheme by making a letal femme fatale who also obsesses over a male character! (Naomi). Also this

(Have you ever wondered why I never talk about Beast Gin? Yeah.)

Okay but you see the problem here? You see how it's impossible to make the same kind of argument for the male characters, because they're all diverse and various and multilayered as much as their little screentime allows? Higuchi doesn't exist outside Akutagawa, Lucy doesn't exist outside Atsushi; but it's not like you can say the same goes the other way round. That is, crossing out the various parallels drawn between male characters, but that only speaks more of how precisely curated male characters are, while all female characters... I'll be honest, aren't written as people. Author really sounds like your average Washington Post best selling psychological thriller author of the week that writes women like an alien species from another planet. It would have spared me having been writing this whole post for an hour (two hours? Which is definitely not the time I wanted to spend on this, man) if only author would have formed the thought, at the start of the serialization: “perhaps! Perhaps I should write women as people instead of writing them as female characters (whatever that means)”. Alas, we ended up with the infamous Naomi description from Untold Origins (what the fuck. who in their right mind would ever think of writing something like that. what the fuck.)

Now, I know if you're here reading this you most definitely like bsd. It's okay, really. Unpopular opinion, but people are perfectly allowed to like things that are flawed (and this is a big flaw). What's extremely important, seriously, I'm on my knees begging you, is to be critical of the media you consume. All kinds of media. Even if you end up disagreeing with me on this matter, really!! Just be able to tell apart the things that make appealing a series for you from whatever kind of agenda / worldview the author is pushing through, and peacefully acknowledge you can like something despite it having issues (because bsd has issues). I don't know who needs to hear this, but someone definitely does: “I love s/kk!!” “the bsd storytelling has many compelling aspects!!” and “I recognize the bsd writing has flaws some of which actively harm an already disadvantaged part of society” are statements that can and should coexist, and if anything - and I know you hate to hear this, I'm sorry, I'm sorry - it should be kept in mind when deciding to support the franchise by buying its products.

One final note is that like... I'm sorry if this comes off as pretentious but I seriously feel like people have NO idea what media with well written female characters look like, because for people to even question bsd being sexist is just insane to me (in the way: do we really need to to talk about it, isn't it obvious like ten seconds in the show??). And this is probably the least good place to advertise things, but please do yourself a favor and read The Promised Neverland and learn what well written female characters read like.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #Me writing this: I guess this is why everyone hates political sciences students uh #Following up: Why Romanticizing Mafia Is Actually Very Bad (no click bait ‼️‼️ )#Also since I brought up tpn: do you really think that it's a coincidence that the manga with incredibly well written female characters–#and a socialist agenda who was in the top ten Japan's yearly best selling franchises for the entirety of its four years serialization–#got an insulting two seasons anime adaptation that completely narrated another story from the manga‚ a live action movie and THAT'S IT #While series like bsd which didn't even enter the top 20 selling franchises like? Ever? are at their tenth year of serialization–#an excellent four seasons (and counting) anime adaptation five spin-off manga one of which has its own anime–#nine novels as many stage plays and two movies? Do you REALLY think it's a coincidence?#anti bsd #For blacklisting purposes ಥ_ಥ #I know there's some people who won't like reading this but let's be honest... That's probably the people that need to read this the most ;;#bsd analysis #Of sorts...#mine #people asks me stuff #This post contains the several reasons why Tumblr can't become like Twitter namely 1) author in question has Twitter #2) Tumblr is anonymous so people can't send me personally death threats #3) It's Tumblr so people won't send me death threats at all (... Hopefully)#Also I'M SO SORRY I know I have dms pending I'm just the worst at answering them 😭😭😭#I swear I'll do my best to get to them eventually ;;;;;;

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jaybear1701 · 3 years

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Pam can only stare wide-eyed at Ellen, wondering if she’s in a dream.

There’s no moon dust or space suits or a vast expanse of stars. And yet, somehow, Ellen standing in her classroom--nervous and expectant and achingly beautiful in gray slacks and a simple white blouse--feels even more surreal. She can’t bring herself to speak, afraid that if she makes an attempt, Ellen will vanish and Pam will once again wake up alone in the darkness of her bedroom.

“I’m sorry for showing up out of the blue like this,” Ellen breaks the silence. “But I was hoping we could talk?”

Pam’s lips part, but for someone who prides herself on her ability to capture the right words and construct them into the perfect turn of phrase, she’s still speechless. Each resounding thud against her ribs pumps out conflicting emotions into her buzzing bloodstream, surprise and confusion, elation and dread.

“Pam?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Somehow, Pam strings together a coherent sentence, her voice scratchy and low.

Ellen’s shoulders droop. “You know that’s not true.” She takes a tentative step closer, treating Pam like some skittish animal ready to bolt, which honestly isn’t too far from the truth. “Please, just five minutes.”

“I don’t really have time--”

“Five minutes,” Ellen repeats, firmer. “Hear me out, and then you’ll never have to see me again if you don’t want to.”

Self-preservation demands that Pam refuses. In the long run, it’d be better for them both to sever ties, clean and fast, without dragging things out. But she can’t, not with the way Ellen’s imploring her with those disarming brown eyes. Her heart won’t let her.

“Fine,” Pam acquiesces. “Five minutes. But not here.”

“Okay,” Ellen exhales in relief.

Unsteadily, Pam pushes up from her desk to stand, grabbing her messenger bag and slinging its strap over her shoulder. She exits the classroom with Ellen in tow, and heads toward her office.

A million questions swirl in Pam’s head. Why are you here? How did you even know where to find me? But she bites her tongue. The hallways of the community college aren’t the place to air things out. Ellen follows her wordlessly, maintaining a respectful distance as she glances furtively at Pam out of the corner of her eye. They’re halfway to her office when someone calls out for Pam.

“Ms. H!”

One of her first-year students, Valerie, rushes to catch up to them with a fistful of papers in hand. “I forgot to give you a draft of my manuscript before the final.” She comes to an abrupt stop when she notices Pam has company, eyes widening. “Holy shit, you’re Ellen Wilson!”

Ellen’s brows shoot up, still surprised when someone recognizes her despite more than a decade in the public eye. “Oh, yes, that’s me.” She offers a hand that Valerie shakes with great enthusiasm “Hi, um....”

“Valerie. But everyone calls me Val.”

“Nice to meet you, Val.”

“Wow.” Val runs a hand through the unshaved side of her red hair. “You know an astronaut?” She asks Pam incredulously. “How on earth do you know an astronaut?!”

“Long story,” Pam replies with a taut smile.

“I’ll bet.” Val says, starstruck. “I saw you on TV when I was a kid, catching that tank. You’re amazing!”

Smiling sheepishly, Ellen ducks her head. “Thank you. Feels like it was a lifetime ago now.”

“I’ll bet. And, hey, sorry to hear you left NASA.”

Pam’s stomach bottoms out as her head snaps toward Ellen. “You what?” She shakes her head, unsure she heard correctly.

Ellen’s eyes slide to Pam briefly before focusing back on Valerie. “It was the right time.”

Val shrugs. “Gotta know when to fold ‘em. Do you know what you’ll do now?”

“Oh, you know, just take it easy while I weigh some options.” Ellen shifts her weight from one foot to another, nonchalant, like it’s no big deal. Like she didn’t just walk away from a hard-earned career and upward mobility.

Pam’s head swims at the revelation, knees wobbly, but manages to change the subject. “You said you have your manuscript, Valerie?”

“Oh, yeah.” Val hands over her papers. “Thanks again for taking a look.”

“No problem.” Pam slides the manuscript into her bag, hoping the tremor in her hands isn’t too obvious.

“What’s it about?” Ellen asks politely.

“Oh,” Val grins, flattered, tucking her hands in the pockets of her black leather jacket. “Just my humble contribution to the cyberpunk genre. You ever watch Blade Runner?”

“I did! It was, uh, interesting.”

“Yeah! Well, it’s similar to that. Though I’m guessing you’re more into Ms. H’s sci-fi.”

“You write science fiction?” Ellen asks Pam, curious.

“Ms. H, you should tell her about your story about the astronauts exploring Mars.”

Ellen’s eyebrows rise slowly, and Pam coughs to hide the blush she already knows is heating her cheeks. “Some other time, maybe,” Pam says. “I’ll touch base with you after the holidays?”

“That’d be great.” Valerie grins. “Thanks again, Ms. H. And nice meeting you, Mrs. Wilson. Er, Commander.”

“Just Ellen will do,” Ellen chuckles, waving goodbye to the retreating student. “So,” Ellen says as they resume walking. “You’re writing about Martian explorers?”

“You’ve got five minutes. Do you really want to spend it talking about my work?” Pam retorts, face still flushed, when they finally reach her office.

Ellen doesn’t respond as Pam unlocks the door, turns on the light, and leads them inside. “Have a seat.” She maneuvers behind her desk and sits, already feeling more at ease in her own space, like she can recapture a modicum of control over her warring emotions. In red, glowing numbers, the answering machine by her phone shows she has about half a dozen messages waiting.

If Ellen’s nervous or uncomfortable on Pam’s turf, she doesn’t show it while she drinks in the small office, taking in the framed diplomas on the walls, crammed bookshelves, and stacks of paper on her desk. She lowers herself into the chair across from Pam.

“I’m not really sure where to start.” Ellen folds her hands in her lap, gaze determined and unwavering. “So I’ll start by saying this: I’m not here to upset you, though I can tell by the look on your face I already have. But, please believe me when I say that’s the last thing I ever want. Okay?”

“Okay.” Pam can already feel her pulse starting to accelerate.

Ellen takes a deep breath. “I wanted… I needed to see you. To understand why you left.”

Pam’s chest instantly clenches in response. There was a reason she hadn’t wanted to see Ellen, who could read her so well she’d know instantly that Pam was lying. “I explained it in my letter.” Schooling her expression, she sticks with the same narrative.

“You said your heart still belongs to Elise.”

Pam inclines her head forward. That is what she wrote, after all.

“Then why aren’t you with her.” It’s not a question.

It feels like all the air has rushed out of the room, and Pam thinks this is the closest she’ll ever come to experiencing life in a vacuum. It’s so quiet that she can hear the scuff of sneakers on the floor outside her office door.

Ellen scoots forward in her seat, words coming faster now. “I called your house, trying to reach you.”

“You what?”

“Elise picked up instead.”

Pam’s stomach twists.

“She said you weren’t together,” Ellen continues. "That you moved out weeks ago.”

Anger lances through Pam, white and hot. “Ellen, you had no right.” Her voice is strained from keeping her temper under control.

“Maybe so,” Ellen concedes, but she doesn’t look repentant at all. “But you also said we owe each other the truth. So what is it?”

“Your five minutes are up.” Pam knows she’s being irrational, but she doesn’t care. Clinging to her outrage is preferable to succumbing to her spiraling panic at being called out on her lie.

Ellen lets out an incredulous laugh. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Pam confirms, crossing her arms as if that would shield her from the growing tumult between them. “Please leave.”

Ellen just stares at her, unblinking, before she shakes her head. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I told you once before that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep you. And I’m not leaving until I get the truth.”

Ellen’s eyes are dark, earnest. Pam hates that she’s not immune to them and, if she’s honest with herself, never will be. Her traitorous heart’s already melting, but Pam’s nothing if not stubborn and she sets her mouth in a thin, hard line. “Then I’ll go.”

She gets up to leave, not even bothering to grab her bag, but Ellen rushes to her feet and blocks her path--not unlike the time at The Outpost years ago, after Pam had given her ultimatum about Ellen’s marriage to Larry.

They’re close, too close that it makes Pam dizzy, and she has to take a step back. Ellen reaches out to Pam, but stops before she can make contact. Her right hand hovers in the air for several long seconds before it drops back to her side.

“Please don’t be angry,” Ellen pleads.

“A little too late for that.”

“I know.” Ellen’s brow furrows, but still she doesn’t move.

“Then please go,” Pam says in a pained whisper. “Or let me go.”

“I can’t.” The crack in Ellen’s voice splits straight down Pam’s heart. “I love you, Pam. Always have. Always will.”

Pam squeezes her eyes shut. The room feels like it’s tilting on its axis.

“If you don’t feel the same, then…”Ellen’s throat constricts as she swallows. . “Then that’s fine. I’ll learn to live with that. But I just need to know. Please.”

When she opens them, Pam’s eyes are full, stinging. “You know I do.”

“Then why…”

“Because sometimes it’s not enough!”

Confusion etches across Ellen’s features, wrinkling her forehead and tugging the corners of her lips down. “Enough for what?”

“For us to work, Ellen.” Pam wipes away a tear that’s trickled down her cheek. “We live in completely different worlds.”

Ellen’s next response is drowned out by the telephone, its shrill ring cutting through the air. For a moment, Pam’s paralyzed, unable to move beneath Ellen’s piercing gaze, both of them breathing heavily. By the fourth ring, Pam snaps out of it. She walks back behind the desk, inhales, exhales, and picks up the receiver.

“Pam Horton.”

It’s the dean’s secretary, asking her to drop by the office before she leaves for the day. Pam normally dreads having to meet with the dean, never quite enjoying the administrative aspects of her job, but right now she’s relieved to have an excuse to end this conversation with Ellen before she does or says anything more that she’ll regret.

“Yes, ma’am, of course,” Pam says as Ellen’s eyes track her movements. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

After she hangs up the phone, she clears her throat. “I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work.”

Ellen looks like she wants to object, but ultimately she retreats back a step. She doesn’t sit back down. Pam’s not sure if she feels relieved or disappointed.

“I understand.” She self-consciously tucks her hair behind her ears. “Can we at least talk later?”

Pam’s mind shouts no. Her heart screams yes. Her mouth lands somewhere in between. “I don’t know,” she says lamely. “We’re wrapping up finals… you know how it goes.”

Ellen’s looking at her like this might be the last opportunity she’ll have to do so. “Well, if you find yourself with some free time, I’m staying at the Driskill ‘til the end of the week.”

The Driskill is the oldest hotel in Austin, right in the heart of downtown. Iconic. Historic. Perfectly suited for someone of Ellen’s background and stature. And much too rich for Pam’s blood. It’s so fitting that Pam doesn’t know whether she wants to laugh or cry.

“We’ll see,” she says.

Ellen nods slowly before turning toward the door. But her hand stills on the knob, and Pam finds herself holding her breath.

“Maybe we do live in different worlds.” Ellen smiles sadly over her shoulder. “But we could create a new one. Together.”

With that, she’s gone. The door softly clicks shut. And it takes all of Pam’s willpower not to follow.

#ellen x pam #for all mankind #spacepoet #ellen waverly #pam horton

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irarelypostanything · 4 years

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The Learning Problem

Until high school, the most stressful school assignment every year was the science fair project...no competition. I hated presenting. I hated the design aspect. The biggest stressor for me, personally, was the idea. And it seems so bizarre when I think about it now, because at no point do I remember just stopping and asking myself:

What was I genuinely curious about?

I remember we were at Ben’s house, once, and in his room he had the 7th grade ribbon for his project on light refraction, or multivariable calculus, or flux capacitors or something. When Ben was gone Jimmy looked at the ribbon, looked me in the eye, and just said, “I really want that.” And he got it. 8th grade. Surface tension. Or multivariable calculus or flux capacitors or Twitter data science or something.

But the reason they require everyone to do the science fair project, probably, is to make people curious about science. Yes, some people are going to do research for a living. But most people could probably just use science fair projects as a kind of jumping off point. If I could go back in time and do it now, the possibilities seem endless. I don’t remember if Max won an award, but his was just having people run laps and measuring the placebo effect of a fake drink...interesting to me because the placebo usually is used as the control case. Kelsey simply sampled the school for which places had the most bacteria. Katie just did bread molding, which is pretty common, but it was a fine project because I think she understood that what people were most interested in was the underlying science.

Probably middle school isn’t the most collaborative or encouraging environment. Have you interacted with middle schoolers lately? They’re the worst. When we were in middle school we took giant shits on every single project, even the ones that were actually really good and ended up winning awards. I think if I could do it again, I’d grow mold but then harvest it and see how to kill it most effectively. Or I’d just write false things on social media and see how many reblogs they got in different sites. Or I’d do psych experiments quizzing people with leading questions and seeing if I could convince them that untrue things were reality.

Maybe I wouldn’t win any awards, but I’d probably end up getting hired by the government.

Flash forward to college. For senior design projects, lots of us were just making apps...I mean, we were software. It makes sense. But Chris actually was fascinated by direction finding, and he did it. Detection, calculations, and all.

That kind of interest goes a long way.

******

Middle school was actually the most interesting place to me, when it comes to learning. They tried such different techniques on us. By the time I got to high school, things were pretty conventional.

I had this science teacher in 7th grade. His lectures were boring. Then he brought in the guy I took in 8th grade, who gave us a 20-minute guest lecture on how what we were learning was related to trans fats, and how they worked. It was extremely refreshing. I liked hearing about the applications. Ben actually hated that kind of thing, science books that would spend a paragraph or two attempting to engage the reader with random-seeming facts, but to an average or below-average brain like mine it was refreshing.

So why was I so annoyed by some of those other classes? Like 7th grade history, why did I not like that? They’d teach a war by having us do an elaborate, simulated activity in which we would pretend to be knights and throw pieces of paper at each other in a really convoluted way. That kind of thing drove me insane. I guess maybe I do want the surprise and the change of pace, but maybe...5% of the time. That’s like the example of the 20-minute guest lecture, as opposed to an hour throwing pieces of paper at each other in a not fun way to learn about...uh...the fact that I don’t remember is the point.

In 7th grade we also had this unconventional math book with really elaborate word problems and strange artwork. Anna joked about it. She made a comic about a math teacher attempting to use their book to teach a bunch of kindergarteners that 2 + 2 = 4, but he spent the entire hour coming up with a word problem that had diverse names and political correctness.

And that was 7th grade.

*****

Curiosity is a strong thing. So is fun. Probably there should be a balance.

When we got to college, we’d sit through these hour-long lectures about the Krebs Cycle and math proofs and CS algorithms. Then some people would be content with that and absorb every word. Then maybe the other 60% of students would go home, throw our notes in the garbage, and watch the same content on YouTube with a bunch of colorful images and animation.

That’s the way the cookie crumbles, I guess.

#25-minute freewrite

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introverthufflepuff · 6 years

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Baggage Boy (Peter Parker x Reader) Part 2

Hey Y'all. So no one asked me to write a part 2 but I did it anyways cause I’m bored. Enjoy :*

You nervously picked at your sleeve as you walked into Midtown School of Technology and Science. The halls were filled with unfamiliar faces, and you pushed down your growing anxiety. Your old school was a fraction of this one, and you knew you would get lost a lot. Especially because of your awful sense of direction.

You really didn’t know how you qualified for the school. You were smart, sure, but not as smart as a lot of the other kids there. You tried not to get lost in a hole of self-doubt as you tried to find your locker.

Successfully finding it, you put in the combination and shoved your lunch and books you didn’t need in the locker. When you shut your locker, you saw Peter walking towards you from the other direction. A smile spread across your face, and you gave him a small, timid wave. He did the same, catching up to you.

“Hey, Y/N.” He said as you two began to walk to your first class.

“Hey, Peter.” You said with a nervous voice.

“What’s your first class?” He asked, looking at the schedule in your hands.

“AP Biology with Mr. Weeks?” You said, looking at Peter to see if he had the same.

“Me too! We have four classes together and lunch.” Peter had the brightest smile you’d ever seen.

“Oh, good. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this day. I’m the worst at making new friends.” You said, nervously twiddling your thumbs.

“I find that hard to believe,” Peter said with a disbelieving look in his dark brown eyes.

“Believe it, Parker. I’m the most antisocial hermit there ever was.”

Peter laughed, bumping your shoulder with his. You found yourself relaxing with him, and thinking that maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad day. Not if Peter was there.

As you two walked into your class, everyone seemed to be staring at you. Becoming nervous again, you walked close to Peter, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone. When you were sat down towards the back of the room, you let out a long sigh.

“Why is everyone staring at me?” You whispered to Peter with panicked eyes.

“Maybe because you’re the prettiest girl in the school,” Peter said with genuine sincerity.

You merely scoffed, hiding your burning cheeks. You wouldn’t believe that for a second.

“That’s definitely not it.” You said, avoiding Peter’s eyes.

“It definitely is.” He said with his charming smile.

Rolling your eyes in disbelief, focusing on the teacher walking to the center of the room. The old man’s eyes met yours briefly, and he lit up.

“A new student!” He said in excitement.

You just smiled politely, wanting to crawl into a dark hole and stay there forever. You hated having all the attention on you, it was overwhelming.

“What’s your name?” He asked with a kind smile.

“Y/N L/N. I moved here from Michigan.” You said, not looking at anyone but the teacher.

“Michigan, huh? That’s pretty far. Well, welcome, Y/N. We’re all glad to have you.”

“Thanks.” You said in a small voice.

Peter nudged you with his elbow. You looked at him curiously.

“You’re definitely going to be his new favorite. After me, of course.” He said with his blinding smile.

You just rolled your eyes again. At least Peter was there to make you feel better. Otherwise, you’d be in your dark hole of self-deprecation and doubt. And that’s a bad place to be.

You made it to lunch with Peter and his friend Ned. Ned was very kind to you, and all three of you shared your love for Star Wars and all things geeky. However, you’d been hassled with questions from random people all day, asking where you came from, and if you had a boyfriend. You blushed when a boy in your French class asked you that.

But you could finally relax at lunch. Sitting next to a girl named MJ with Peter and Ned across from you, you could feel comfortable enough to talk again.

“Why’d you pick these losers to be your friends?” MJ asked with pure curiosity.

“Why’d you pick them to be your friends?” You countered with a sweet smile.

MJ just grinned, and the two of you seemed to have some unspoken bond. You knew she would be a good friend.

“I like you.” She said with a devious smile.

You just gave her a victorious face, feeling utterly satisfied with your progress on making new friends. Peter observed the interaction, overjoyed how everyone seemed to love you. You met his eyes, both of your heart’s speeding up. Your e/c eyes were shining, your silky hair framing your face in the most beautiful way. Peter was totally in love with you. And you couldn’t be more oblivious.

Your lunch was interrupted by someone sitting next to you. It was a pretty girl with dark brown hair and a kind face. She smiled at you and greeted the others.

“Hi, I’m Liz. I’m friends with Peter, Ned, and MJ.” Liz held out her hand for you to shake.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You shook it gently.

“I know, silly. You’re like the most popular girl here.” Liz said with a ‘duh’ face.

“Uh... what?” You asked with wide eyes.

“We don’t have new kids here very often. Actually, we never have new kids. So, you’ll be the talk of the school for the whole year, most likely.” Liz said like it was the most obvious thing ever.

You started to panic slightly. You were the most popular girl here? You couldn’t handle that kind of pressure.

“Relax, it’s a good thing! Especially cause you’re so pretty, and if you made it into all AP classes, then you must be really smart.”

“I g-guess.” You gulped, looking down.

“Hey! You should join the academic decathlon team! I’m the captain, and these three are on the team, too.” Liz suggested excitedly.

“Yeah! Then you’ll get to go on the trip to D.C. with us in a couple of weeks!” Ned smiled.

“Alright. I don’t want to let the team down, though.” You said, unsure if you were smart enough.

“Oh come on, Y/N. You completely flew through everything in Bio and Calculus. You’d be the smartest one on the team.” Peter said with his puppy-dog eyes.

And then you couldn’t say no. You couldn’t say no to Peter. So, you reluctantly turned back to Liz.

“Okay, I’ll join.”

“Yes! We are so going to win this year!” She jumped up from the table, running to tell everyone the good news.

You took a shaky breath and turned back to the table. Peter and Ned smiled innocently, and MJ ignored you guys. You ran a hand through your hair, trying not to think about anything. It would be fine. If your friends were with you, you would be fine.

The school day finally ended, and Peter insisted on walking you home. And, of course, you couldn’t say no to him. He was too adorable to deny anything. So now the two of you were discussing all the homework you already had.

“I can’t believe you’re in all AP classes. Besides gym, of course.” Peter said, and you merely shrugged.

“I’m used to the workload. I took all AP classes at my old school, too. It’s just easy for me, I guess. But you’re a genius in science, and that’s my worst subject.” You pointed out to him.

“I guess. But you totally beat me in World and. English.” He smiled at you.

You shrugged again, hating the attention being on you.

“How’d you enjoy having all the boys fawn over you today?” Peter asked with a knowing smile.

“It was awful!” You wailed in misery. “I just want someone else to transfer to the school so people will stop looking at me.”

“That’s hard to do when you look like that.” Peter smiled, gesturing to your doll-like face.

You blushed again, looking away. It was right then that you arrived at your apartment. Walking up the first step to your front door, you looked back at Peter.

“Bye, Peter.” You smiled gently.

“Bye, Y/N.” He said with glazed eyes.

You walked into your apartment complex with burning cheeks. Riding the elevator up to your floor, you couldn’t stop thinking about Peter. God, he was like an addiction. You couldn’t get him out of your head. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Walking into your apartment, you looked for your mom to no avail. She must’ve taken a late shift. Walking to your room, you took off your jacket and flopped on your bed. Not realizing how tired you were, you started drifting to sleep, not realizing that you had left the front door unlocked.

Hey, guys so I hope you liked this chapter! I’m addicted to Peter Parker fanfiction, so I LOVE writing it. Haha, anyways I hope you all have a good day!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #marvel #tom holland #spider man: homecoming #spiderman

32 notes · View notes

hayjeon · 7 years

Text

Guys Like Him (ft. Jeongguk)

Drabble game prompt 42. “His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.” → badboy!jk, jock!au, prequel (part 1) to You Who [M] → 6k words, (fluff, mentions of sex, tiny bit angst)

Y/N: Originally didn’t want to make another series about jk, but You Who got a 1000+ notes and I decided to upload this as a surprise :) Enjoy! Split it into two parts, but I’m finished with part 2 so it’ll be uploaded in less than 24 hrs!

“Nice job boys, that was a really good practice, let’s keep it up! Go home and get some rest!” Coach Kim blows his whistle as the boys all scatter and cheer as their practice comes to an early end. Jimin catches up to Jeongguk and claps the younger boy on the back, “Nice job kiddo, you’re stepping up into the quarterback shoes pretty well.”

Jeongguk laughs and punches Jimin back in his shoulder pads, earning a playful laugh from him, “Thanks hyung.”

“What’re you doing Friday night? Seokjin’s frat is throwing a party soon and is inviting the entire cheerleading squad the night before the game. And I overheard Jisoo saying that all of them were gonna be going. Wanna come?”

Jeongguk smiles, shaking his head. “Sorry hyung, but I have a date with Y/N. I promised her way before that I wouldn’t flake. And since we have the game on Saturday, we planned for Friday.”

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, I miss the days when Jeon Jeongguk wouldn’t miss a frat party for the world. What happened?”

They reach the lockers and begin removing their heavy gear. “I ended up dating the smartest, prettiest girl on campus. Can’t risk losing that.”

Jimin catches the slight blush on Jeongguk’s face. Smirking, he comments, “Damn man, you can literally get with any of the girls on campus. And you used to! What happened? You’re so whipped for her dude.”

Jeongguk smiles as he walks towards the showers. With a wide smile, he adds, “I am.”

It wasn’t always like this though. Everyone knew Jeongguk as the new quarterback who ended up hanging out with the biggest fuckboys on campus, although he had his fair share of one-night stands with pretty girls here and there. It didn’t help that he was also good looking. Academics, extracurriculars, school pep, sports, and getting along with everyone; all of this came easy to him. He worked hard, played hard. That was his motto.

Although he wasn’t as open as Jimin or Shownu were, he still had his fair share of flings, and that immediately tagged him as “one of them” as other people gossiped on campus. His cocky smirk and stocky build didn’t help either.

Girls threw themselves at him, and secretly, there was a bet within the football team to see which players could score with as many cheerleaders as possible before the season came to a close. It was disgusting, yes, but didn’t help that the cheerleaders also had a pretty obvious bet to see who could sleep with as many of the hottest players before they graduated.

So, many people didn’t expect him on the first day of junior year to enter the upper division physics classroom along with a binder and a full backpack. The classroom erupted in whispers as he clambered towards the back and sat down and opened his textbook, glasses perched on his nose.

One of the whisperers were Jungyeon, who leaned over in her seat with her eyes still trained on Jeongguk, and whispered loudly in your ear. “Guess he got lost?”

You boredly looked at the boy who was sitting at the end of your row. Shrugging, you yawned. “Probably.” You were recovering from an all-nighter of studying for your chemistry test.

But she grabs and shakes your arm. “No,” she hisses, “Actually he’s got the textbook.” You squint annoyedly to note that he, indeed, does have the thick physics textbook open on his desk and is currently writing a few things in a brand new notebook. “Hm,” you grunt, frowning at the sight, “I didn’t know he was a physics major.”

“I heard he was a computer science major. Explains why he’s here, but also doesn’t make sense how he can juggle both football and cs at the same time,” pipes in Jihyo on your left. You nod at her, “Yeah, my roommate’s cs and she literally has no time to even eat because of all the work.”

“Probably gets paid off or given slack by the university cause he’s the quarterback.” Jungyeon quips, rolling her eyes, “the sports players in this uni are always given the benefits.”

Sighing, you open your notebook as the professor walks in and begins his introduction. “Well, that’s the life of attending uni in a country obsessed with football.”

“Good morning class, welcome to Physics 118, Quantum mechanics and Analytic Mechanics. My name is Professor Song, and I’ll be your professor for your first upper division class in the physics department, so I hope for a great year,” begins the man in the front.

Jihyo scoffs, “Yeah right. Heard he’s the worst teacher and the hardest grader in the department. Sucks he’s the only teacher for this subject. Tenure suck my ass.” Leaning back in her seat, she crosses her arms and huffs.

The professor continues, “To start off this year, I’d really like to get to know each and every single one of you and why you’re taking this class. But because there are so many of you, a hundred, I’ve decided to change things up this year and start you off with a group project.” Jungyeon and Jihyo excitedly grip your arms, hoping that you could be a group. “My TA’s have gone ahead and assigned partners according to each of your majors.” Groans echo throughout the hall and your friends groan as they let go of your arms. “That way, we will get to know each other and learn to help each other out, because in this class, you’ll need a lot of help. Partners will be posted at the end of class. Let’s go over the syllabus!”

As Professor Song continues, Jihyo growls, “I fucking hate group projects.”

You sigh, nodding. “Same. I barely know anyone who even has my major. I’m gonna be with strangers!” You slump in your seat. Jungyeon and Jihyo give you sympathetic looks, them being both chemistry majors, and most likely together apart from you, an electrical engineering major.

The three of you sigh as Professor Song finished his lecture and pack up with urgency, rushing towards the front to look at the list that his TA posted up. Jungyeon, with her tall, lanky figure, gets to the board first and punches the air. “Yes!” She cries, turning to Jihyo with a smile, “Same team!”

“What about me?!” You cry as other students jostle you, and you’re not tall enough to look over their heads at the list. “I got you!” she says, and turns to look at the list for a moment, before turning to you with a sympathetic pout.

“Uh, Y/N,” she starts, dragging you away from the mess, “I don’t know how to tell you but, you only have one partner.”

You shrug, “It’s okay. Prof. Song said that he would adjust the workload accordingly if the groups aren’t large enough. I expected it, not many people are EE majors here unless they’re EE and CS.”

She chews her lips, and says lowly, “Yeah, but, you’re partner is Jeon Jeongguk.” She frowns, and straightens up to give you a sad pout as your head whips up in disbelief. “What?” You hiss, and you ditch her to run back and shove your way up to the front of the class to make sure, and alas, there was your name typed in Times New Roman next to “Electrical Engineering: Jeon Jeongguk.”

Your jaw drops open as you read the pairing over and over again. It was like bad irony. Of course, in the class you were actually worried about not getting an A in, you were paired with a jock, and one that you’ve heard already so many bad things about. Sighing, you turn to your friends in defeat. Guess this semester was going to be another one where you had to shoulder the entire project to yourself. You walk up to Jihyo who gives you a pat. “You’re right, I fucking hate group projects.”

She murmurs encouragements to you, “Maybe he just recently changed majors?” but then she stops and you turn to see what she’s staring at. Jeon Jeongguk is walking towards the three of you, the thick textbook tucked in his thick arms and the backpack hanging from a shoulder. He’d taken his glasses off, and was wearing a white shirt with ripped jeans and boots.

“Uh, Y/N?” He tentatively approached you and you turn and try to change your grimace into something a little more polite.

“Oh, hi. Are you Jeongguk?” You ask. And to your horror, he nods, a cocky smirk coming onto his mouth. “Hey, I’m Jeongguk.” He holds out his hand and you take it hesitantly. “It’ll be fun working with you.”

Jihyo and Jungyeon walk ahead as you and Jeongguk walk out of the classroom. “Uh, yeah. When do you want to meet? We should discuss where we want to take this project. Prof Song wants us to focus the paper on what we want to do with our majors, and I feel like stuff like that would be easier to discuss in person before we split off and do our own things.”

Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, didn’t he say that he wants us to work on it together? Like, if he catches us doing stuff separately, then he’ll dock off points?”

You shrug, trying to walk faster to avoid this conversation. There was no use for him to pretend like he was going to do any work. You were too used to being paired up with jocks and people who didn’t pull their weight on these projects. “It’ll be fine. I’ll make sure it’s fluid and one solid paper, so don’t worry about that. You have football stuff, so I’ll just take care of it.”

You turn to walk up the stairs to your next class, but Jeongguk grabs your arm with a pissed off expression. “Just because I’m an athlete doesn’t mean I’m not gonna help you on this project, Y/N.” The corners of your mouth turn down at the statement. You’ve heard it too many times. But before you can say anything, he gruffly says, “Wednesday, 7 at the main library entrance,” and walks off downstairs.

Rolling your eyes, you turn and walk briskly to your next class, slumping down on the seat in front of you. It’s not until halfway into the lecture that you realize you’ve written down no notes so far and are still annoyed at the fact that he didn’t ask you if you were okay with the date or not.

“And he didn’t even ask me if I was free!” You exclaim, angrily chewing your fries.

Jungyeon shrugs, chewing on her own burger. “Well, are you?”

You slump, lowly muttering, “yes.”

She laughs, sipping on her drink. “Well, then there’s that. He probably knows all you do is study, anyway. Which is why he was so happy to be your partner.”

You groan. “I know! Ugh, does he really think I’m gonna fall for this again? This is so dumb.” Ruffling your hair, you lean on the table. “Don’t expect any word from me until this project is over. If I’m gonna pull his weight, it’s gonna take every minute of effort.”

Jihyo smiles, “You need to chill a little. Those projects just take you so much because you put in way too much effort in them. You get A’s anyway. And who knows? Maybe Jeongguk’s good-looking head is good for other some other use than, well, ya know, head.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you and Jungyeon fake gag as you laugh together.

“Oh please, his head is full of himself. His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.” You groan as you finish your burger off and check your watch. “Ah, it’s almost 7. Gotta run, I’m supposed to meet him at the main library. See ya!”

You get to the library and expect to stand there waiting for about ten more minutes, but then you see Jeongguk already leaning against one of the benches, scribbling something in his notebook. Raising your eyebrows, you jog over to him.

“Oh, hey.” You start, and he looks up at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Why do you look so surprised?” He asks and you’re caught off guard. “Did you expect me to be late or something?” He comes off a bit aggressively and you know it’s your fault for being so rude to him off the bat a few days ago, but you can’t help but snap back, “Well, yes, actually. People like you don’t necessarily have the best reputation in my books.”

He slams the notebook shut and straightens up, heading towards the library entrance. “I told you I wasn’t like that, Y/N.” He grumbles, before pausing in front of the double doors to hold it open for you. You stop suddenly too, and then quickly scurry into the entrance. He notices your surprise at his action and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say more.

He knows about the reputation athletes like him have. Cocky, sex-starved, party-animals, kiss-ups, lazy cheaters, and the worst people to be partnered up with. Sure, he admits he’s a tiny bit of the first three, but his parents had raised him to also work hard, and he hadn’t even wholeheartedly dedicated himself into football or lost his virginity until he got to college. In high school, he was a hard working kid who was either on the field or in the library. But of course, people like you didn’t know that.

You find an empty table and lay out your materials. You start, “So, I want to be an electrical engineer so I can work for programming and engineering for the military.” At his raised eyebrows, you explain, “My father is a general, so it makes sense to me.” He nods, you continue, “So I think we can take the project in the direction of how it benefits in a humanitarian sense. I could also talk about the recent advances in missile engineering!” You pause to scribble it down in your notebook.

“Y/N?” He begins, and you pause in your tirade. “Yes?”

“Are you really planning to do this all by yourself?” He’s frowning again.

You fidget. “Well, I’m offering. You have football and stuff, so I’d rather just do it on my own then have to worry about you meeting deadlines and all.”

He shakes his head. “Stop talking about football for once. Jeez, that’s my job. You know that this is a shit ton of work? I’m gonna pull my own weight too. If he notices that you did everything, then that fucks me over and I’m not getting anything less than an A in this class.” He grumbles, frowning when your eyebrows shot up at the last statement. It was odd, because Jeongguk didn’t usually talk to friends like this. He was usually flirty and very smooth and patient with people he knew, but he didn’t know why he wanted to prove his trustworthiness so much to you. He continues, opening his notes. “I don’t care what you think of me, but I’m gonna be doing 50% of this project. So, let me talk.”

You nod, eyes wide as you watch him flip through some pages in his notebook and the textbook. “I switched to electrical engineering because I want to go to less privileged countries and build energy generators that are clean and sustainable. I went to Africa this past summer for an internship, and we made windmills that generated energy for an entire small city.”

You’re genuinely surprised, because you’d been expecting him to answer some stupid shit about making money at Google or something. But this was different. His voice softens as he talks about the experience. “And so I think the way we should take this project is to, yes like you said, talk about how electrical engineering helps in the humanitarian sense. That sound good to you?”

When you nod, he relaxes and slides his notebook over to you. On the page, are outlines of the projects and article titles and subjects that you could go over. Your eyes widen at the work. It was way more than you’d expected, and way more than even you’d prepared for this meeting. You were genuinely impressed.

“Wow, uh, yeah, Jeongguk. That sounds like a great idea.”

Jeongguk straightens up with a smile that has no hint of a smirk nor mocking in it and you suddenly feel really sorry. Quietly, the both of you lapse into your individual research for the next few hours, and you quietly say goodbye to him and he gives you a small smile, saying he’ll stay at the library for a little longer to finish up some work for other classes.

You smile and turn to leave, but slowly turn back and approach him. “Hey, Jeongguk, I’m really sorry.”

He looks up from his math homework and frowns at you. “Huh?”

You rub your arm as you stare at the ground. “Uh, I’m sorry, if I ever made you feel like I looked down on you. I didn’t mean to assume that you were gonna screw me over, it’s just that I really haven’t had good experiences getting paired up with athletes for group projects.” You sheepishly glance up at him and instead of a cocky smirk, he’s genuinely smiling at you with a soft look.

He pats your arm. Laughing, he stands up. “It’s okay, Y/N. Thanks for apologizing. Let’s do well yeah?” You smile and you turn to leave, but then he stops you. “Actually, sorry, I didn’t see how dark it got. Let me walk you home.”

He gathers his books and shoves them in his back despite your protests, and grins at you as he drags you towards the entrance. When you fumble with your heavy textbook, he reaches over and grabs it from you, easily balancing the heavy brick-like thing along with his own books and football bag in his arms. He opens the door for you and you two step out in the direction of your off-campus apartment.

He makes light conversation, and you ask him about his internship, and his eyes sparkle as he continues talking about his experience. You notice that he maneuvers himself so that he walks on the side of the road where the cars are. “Wow, it was amazing. It was hard, yeah, but I learned a lot from it. The kids there were really awesome too, we played football together a lot and that’s when I decided I wanted to take the sport seriously when I came back.” You nod as you realize that his involvement with the sport had an amazing background as well. “My dream is to go live there after I retire.”

You hum, “Wow, that’s amazing. Really, I respect that a lot.” He turns to you and smiles shyly. “I really never told anyone about that, now that I think about it.” He bumps your shoulder with his playfully. “I guess you’re the first.”

You smile, bumping him back playfully. In the distance, you see your home. “That’s it right there,” you turn, stopping in front of a small food truck selling spicy ddukbokki and kimbap rolls, with hot udon, and some students are tucked into the warm corner, lightheartedly drinking soju together. “Thanks for walking me home, Jeongguk. Really appreciate it.”

He squints in the direction you pointed. “Wait, you live here?”

You frown, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Yeah? Why?”

He looks at you oddly. “What the heck? I live here too. Building 4?”

You laugh, “Yeah! Apartment 215!”

He grins, “No wonder I didn’t see you, I’m floor five, Apt 526.” You smile, “What a coincidence.”

He insists on carrying your book all the way too your door and so you start towards the apartment building, but you turn and smell the mouthwatering scent of the late-night snacks from the truck. Your stomach grumbling, you pause and call out, “Hey, Jeongguk, do you want to grab a little snack? This is my favorite place.”

He grins as he turns around to see you pointing towards the food truck. “This is literally my favorite place. Thought you’d never ask!” He smiles as he jogs up to you and calls out a greeting to the kind lady who runs the truck. She greets the both of you with a warm smile. “Oh! My two favorite customers, it’s a first seeing you here together!”

You smile and look at Jeongguk who also turns to you with a wide smile. Shrugging, he laughs, “We ended up doing a project together. Two servings of dukkbokki and a roll of your awesome kimbap auntie!” She smiles and gives you your orders.

The rest of the night is a lot more fun than you’d ever had in a while, contrary to your usual visits to the food truck alone on your way home from the library. It felt nice to sit down and have a conversation with someone, as you both laughed about the guy who lived on the third floor and always walked around in bright red santa boxers.

You guys talk animatedly home, and Jeongguk carries your bag all the way up to your door. Taking it from him, you smile, “Hey, Jeongguk, thanks for tonight. I really had fun in a while.”

He laughs, “Me too. I’ll see you later, yea?” You nod, and he waves at you before jogging up the steps towards his own place. You watch him with a warm feeling. Maybe it was time for you to open up, because you realize, Jeon Jeongguk was actually a really good friend.

“Are you kidding?” Jihyo screeches, as you show her the powerpoints you guys finished. “He literally did all of this?!”

Nodding you point at the expertise math he did on one of the slides. “Yeah! He’s actually really smart. Got the secondary formula proof and all. That wasn’t even in the textbook!”

She nods, scrolling through the rest of the slides with her mouth open. “Jesus, we haven’t even gotten halfway. Looks like you two are almost done!”

You nod again, pursing your lips. “I looked over it like three times, and it’s right. I didn’t even know how to do it until he showed me.”

“Think he paid someone to do it?” She asks, and you slap her arm. “C’mon, there’s no way he just memorized the proof for this on his own. I think he knows his stuff.” She rubs her arm as she finishes scrolling. “Well damn. Cause I could swear I heard he fucked the new cheerleader after the game on Saturday.”

“Saturday?” You recall Jeongguk apologetically telling you not to schedule anything on Saturdays because of his games. To which you had agreed was totally fine, because he worked hard to make up for it on Friday and Sunday nights. “Wait what?”

She nods, biting her lip. “I know you really trust him as a friend, but, I’m warning you Y/N. He’s not the nice guy you think he is.”

“I’m telling you, he’s actually a really kind person!”

She hums, “Yeah, but kind people don’t fuck girls and throw them away the way he does.”

You sigh, “I don’t want to judge him for that. I mean, it’s wrong. But you have one-night stands occasionally too! And honestly, he doesn’t even do it as bad as Jimin or Shownu do. You know, you almost had a thing with Jimin!”

She rolls her eyes, “It’s different! His one night stands and mine are different!” “Explain how, Jihyo!” You exclaim back, and she throws her hands up in the air. “I-I dont know! But!” she points at you, “Be careful of him! He’s not known as the fuckboy of campus for anything!”

And you forget about the exchange for a while, spending the next two months working hard on the project and assignments from other classes. You and Jeongguk meet up often even after you get outstanding marks on the project, discovering you share a few same classes, and so it becomes a routine a couple times a week to go to the library with him for hours and then walk home together, visit the food truck, and go home together.

You catch yourself often, though, staring too much at the gorgeous guy in front of you, engrossed in his computer science homework. He was truly good looking, and you couldn’t say you weren’t affected by it. Now that you two were much more comfortable around each other, he let loose around you, and cracked more jokes with you and fooled around with you every chance he got. It wasn’t bad, per say, because he was always doing so with a lighthearted attitude. But it didn’t help that he was touchy, throwing his arm around your neck as a joke or grabbing your wrist whenever he tried to get your attention.

You weren’t oblivious to the looks that some girls gave you when they saw you studying every week. He only sat next to you, and when some other girls waved him over to their saved seats, he rejected them with a polite smile and jogged his way over to you and plopped down next to you. Or sometimes, you’d walk into the library a little late and see him fending off girls who asked him if the seat next to him was empty or not, and he’d always only take off his heavy backpack from the chair when he saw you come over.

Similarly in classes, you always subconsciously searched for his curly head of hair to pop up and sit next to you, smelling like his shampoo and cologne. He’d often bring you matching cups of coffee, or if it was later in the day, an iced latte or something.

And Jeongguk enjoyed it too. Yeah, he had his fair share of flings throughout the time, because it just ended up happening during the frat parties his team was invited to. He rubbed his eyes as he got up from the foreign bed, and looked over to see a head with long ashy hair. She was naked, and so was he. Groaning, he holds his head as the hangover rushes over him in fierce pain, and the sound wakes up the girl in the bed.

“Mmmm” she hums, stretching, “You’re up?” He looks up and recognizes the cat-like eyes that he’d once lusted so much after. It was Jennie. He sighs and gets up, and she grabs his wrist, “Where are you going?”

He shakes her off. “I gotta go.”

“Where?”

“Doesn’t matter fucking where, I gotta go.” He grits out as he throws his pants and shirts on and searches for his keys.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to that nerd girl you’ve been studying with,” Jennie sneers, glaring at him. “I hear from everyone that you’re her little bitch.”

Jeongguk flips her off. “Fuck you,” he grabs his keys, “Don’t talk about her like that. At least her ass isn’t a bet to see which one of us can get some of it first.” With that, he leaves her seething as he slams the door on his way out. He doesn’t know why he always comes back to the library.

Maybe its for once, he gets a break from his douchebag friends, the parties, the games, the drinks. Or maybe he enjoyed the comfortable silence that he had with you, and got a lot of work done whenever he had his study dates with you. Walking home wasn’t as lonely anymore. And he decided, after a lot of conversations with you about his dreams and the struggles he had on the field, that you were one of his closest genuine friends in such little time.

So when that night, he receives a call, and you look up from your work to see his expression fall at whatever is spoken into the phone. He leaves and comes back after finishing the call, but you notice something is wrong immediately. His face is crestfallen and his shoulders are hunched in. “Jeongguk, you okay?” You ask, and he doesn’t reply. “Jeongguk?”

“Huh?” He straightens up and smiles at you. “Y-yeah, just got distracted a little bit there. I’m fine!” He returns to his work and you frown at him before returning to your own work. But the nagging feeling in your head distracts you, so you decide to get up. “Ah, Jeongguk, do you wanna leave a little early today? I’m not really feeling like studying right now.” You gather your stuff and he nods, “Yeah, was gonna say the same thing. Let’s go home.”

You walk in silence, but you can feel the struggle in his head. Sighing, you tuck your hands in your jacket pockets as you near the food truck. “Hey, you really ok?”

He pauses, and you turn to see him staring at the ground. “M-my parents, they’re…they’re getting a divorce.”

Your mouth falls open as you suck in a breath. You understood that it was a big deal for him, and your roommate had gone through a similar thing in freshman year. Stepping up, you knew there was really only one thing that would help someone in that kind of situation. You stepped up, and grabbed the textbooks from his hands gently, and he let them go with a confused look. You set them gently down on the ground, and step forward and wrap your arms around his waist.

You remembered when your grandmother died, a hug was all you wanted. The words and comforts and looks of pity did nothing for you, but hugs were really comforting. So you press your cheek against his chest, and tighten your arms around him and just stay still. He tenses, and you’re scared for a moment that you’ve overstepped your boundaries. You’d known him for seven months now and you hoped this was okay.

But he slumps in your grasp, and his arms come around you, heavily settling on your shoulders as he cranes his neck down to your shoulder and rests his forehead there. You don’t say anything and smooth a hand down his back, patting him gently as he lets out a few heavy breaths against the fabric of your jacket. “I kind of knew this was coming, but it still hurts, ya know?” His voice is muffled in your jacket, and you hum as you can hear the emotion in his tone.

But trying to be a man, he prevents himself from getting any more emotional. He squeezes you close once before stepping away from you. “Hey, Y/N, wanna buy me a drink tonight?”

You nod, and you smile and pick up the books and walk over to the tables. Pouring him a drink, you grin as he laughs, “Thanks, I really appreciate it.” And you listen to him as he explains that his parents had been fighting for a while and he’d been pouring himself into studying and football to avoid confronting the issue. And later, buzzed, the both of you return to your apartment with smiles on your faces. He’d been able to vent to you and felt much better, and you felt a little warm at being able to know him a little better.

But the same amount of alcohol between you both affects you more, and on your way home, you’re already seeing double and stumbling drunkenly. As he guides you up to your floor, you turn sharply on your heel and grab his collar.

“It’s gonna be alright, Jeongguk,” you murmur, looking up into his surprised eyes with your hooded ones. Giggling, you lean in further, and lean up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Here’s a good night hug,” you slur, rocking on your heels and Jeongguk wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. At the action, your mind goes blurry again and you blurt out, “And here’s your good night kiss.”

You lurch forward and press your pursed lips against his, almost missing and catching his chin. He’s frozen, and doesn’t know what to do as you cutely scrunch your eyes shut as you tip toe to press your lips to his. Fuck it he thinks as he leans down, dropping the football duffel on his shoulder to press his lips harder against yours. You mewl into the kiss, as a hand comes up to cradle your cheek and the other is still wrapped around your waist, pressing you to him.

He swipes past your lips and literally melts at how sweet you taste, and you drunkenly try to keep up with him before you detach for some air. He’s panting for breath too, and he gazes down at you to see your expression, but you only smile drunkenly in your hazed state. “I like you, Jeon Jeongguk,” you whisper, before your lids slide shut and your head lolls against his hand and you grow limp while leaning on him.

He takes a moment to collect himself, his cheeks blushing fiercely red before he knocks on the door to make sure your roommate isn’t home before opening the door with your key and stumbling with you towards your bedroom. He gently sets you down on your bed and lifts the covers over you, before sitting on the edge and gazing down at you.

He sighs, lifting a hand to tuck a curl behind your ear. You were so beautiful to him, and he wanted so much to return the confession. But then your phone buzzes on your nightstand and he grabs it before it wakes you.

But he can’t help but see the previews on your lock screen.

[From: Jihyo, 1:11 AM] News flash! Jeongguk and Jennie had sex the other night!

[From: Jungyeon, 1:11 AM] Ugh, Y/N, I’m telling you he’s not worth it. You deserve so much better! He’s a fuckboy!

[From: Jihyo, 1:12 AM] Yeah, he’s not a good influence. Stay away from him! Fucking prick…boys like him should stay away from girls like you.

Jeongguk sets down the phone on your nightstand with a solemn expression. Rubbing his lips that are still tingling from the kiss, he looks back down at you, who’s sleeping with an innocent smile lingering on your lips and in your cute little jacket. He reaches out to touch your cheek, but pauses, and decides against it with a bitter scoff.

Cause, like the text had said, you deserved so much better.

Boys like him should stay away from girls like you.

--> Part 02 [fin]

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