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dreamsafterhours · 4 years

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college boyfriend!markhyuk au series: II (mark’s pathway)

a universe in which roommates!markhyuk meet each other's s/o in class

markhyuk are roommates, my/n and dy/n are roommates, mark and dy/n take classes together and so do donghyuk and my/n — how will their fates intertwine?

genre: fluff, some angst pairing: platonic!donghyuk+my/n, surprise visit from mark format: dotpoint AU universe: non idol, college best friend warning: a lil swearing (best get used to it)

masterlist

or click here to continue your friendship with eng lit!mark!

I ⇤ | II | ⇥ III

II: relationship consolidation.. it’s platonic i swear

the fellowship continues (donghyuk + my/n)

hello again

are we ready

ever-ready i’m going whether u r or not lol idc you’re COMING

aight so ;;, donghyuk,

this boi,,

to meet someone new who he sees as almost a personal challenge,, to befriend and get to That Point™ in the friendship where you can talk about anything and everything without judging each other

he doesn’t have many friends that he can do that with tbh,, , he does have a lot of friends and people he knows and has conversed with but not a lot of friends he can crack jokes with and know they don’t take it personally

lots of dark humour and sometimes suggestive ones and political jokes and all that shit ,, intellectual puns and suicidal jokes,,, the lot

the basics for gen z humour right

he just wants someone to talk to and explore different concepts and abstract meanings and philosophical questions and get new perspectives on things he’d never thought about before

but also be able to say “ah fuck me upside down” without it actually affecting the relationship bc you’re just that close

sometimes it’s hard to have that relationship with the predominantly straight boys he surrounds himself with a lot of the time

and he’s always wondered what it’d be like to have a female friend like that and unfortunately he hasn’t befriended anyone and gotten to that point yet that he can ask genuine questions for the female point of view on certain topics

so meeting you,, and finding out you’re going for the same faculty after your undergrad course ,,,. then you being genuinely comfortable with him and his jokes and openly willing to accept his humour

he’s like /exclamation point appears above his head/

will this be The One™

so he lowkey ,, unintentionally,, in the process of getting to know you

develops a smol crush on you

it’s unintentional but he can’t help the fact that he falls in love really quickly but is also capable of getting over people fairly quickly if they don’t reciprocate his feelings and seems to be okay with that

but who can blame him for liking you??

you’re really damn cute

and genuinely good company

when he hinted that you could get married and have children in the future,,

his thought process was that ahaha i’m kidding.. unless?

so yes he was flirting but like ,, experimental flirting

and over the next couple of weeks he continues flirting with you

random lines like

“hey you look familiar, have i taken a class with you before?” he literally said this on the second day of classes with you

you honestly thought he was being genuine and actually didn’t remember you so you were like wait what ??? you literally walked me to my next class yesterday../? how? do you forget that??

and then he pulls a

“really? i swear we had chemistry” hand stroking his invisible beard

and then laughing at your reaction when you deadpan

“it was biology, donghyuk”

and sometimes u keep having that thought that u had in the middle of ur first lecture together, how he’s probably like this with everyone and he can easily befriend anyone else he’s probably gonna end up being those people that you know vaguely

but then you realise he’s been waiting in the same spot outside the lecture theatre every morning and afternoon, leaning on the wall, and looking up occasionally

smiling when he finds you in the crowd, picking up his bag from the floor and making his way over to you to walk into the lecture together

and you decide hm? he sticks around, i’ll stick around

on a separate occasion in some study session he’s like

“are you my appendix because i have no idea how you work, but the feeling in my stomach makes me want to take you out”

and you’re like “wow looks like you went ahead in the course donghyuk we don’t have human anatomy until next year. but how’s tmr at 7”

“perfect i’ll pick you up wear something nice”

hold

and then he bURSTS OUT LAUGHING and HOLLERING and yelling about how that was a good one tho right

you’re both in this sort of grey area where neither of you know where this is going

the reason he’s been saying all these things is to see what you were comfortable with in conversation and trying to analyse from your reaction whether or not you were actually flirting back or not

he’s ranted to mark in his dorms about it a couple times ,,

and so have you with your roommate

you return to your dorm after a day of doing a lot of back and forth semi flirting with donghyuk and you collapse onto your bed

your roommate looks over from her desk like “u good bro”

"i’m confused”

“fair enough”

“seriously idk if this kid is actually flirting with me or whether he’s practising on me or what”

“is this the donghek boi”

“yeah donghyuk” aka your future s/o yEET

you sit up and look at her

“uk what he said to me today”

she turns in her chair to face you fully,, ready for the tea

so you tell her the pickup line he came up with that day & your response to it and then his reaction to that bc he always seems to go for it but then tap out afterwards when you actually respond

and now you’re thinking,, do you really like him as more than a friend ??

and its???

so ?confusing to you

if you can’t tell if you like him for sure then you probably don’t, romantically

but then what effect are your responses having on him

what he actually does like you and all those flirty comments are genuine??? and you’re /internal gASP moment/

what if you’re leading him on?? what if it’s always gonna be him initiating the flirting but you’re accepting it with insincerity?

you decide this goes entirely against your morals

and you tell this to your roommate and she goes hmm,,

if you don’t feel committed to the idea of that,, then you don’t have to feel obligated to keep it going,, be honest with him ,, draw lines if you have to .. yes leading people on is a bad thing and it’s gonna affect the friendship

but also maybe it really is just part of the humour and that’s the friendship dynamic he wants to build with you?

so you decide to sleep on it bc it’s 1am and significant choices should not be made when drowsy and you’ve lost a lot of sleep these past couple days anyway

not that you get good sleep that night anyways

meanwhile donghyuk is shrugging @ mark like

“idk bro do i like her?? or do i like the idea of having someone to say that to”

“and yes she returns the gestures but then also i don’t think she means it? do we just keep it at that and keep being friends like WHAT IF I CATCH FEELINGS”

and mark is just staring at him like dude idk don’t ask me

“you’re so bad at giving advice mark”

but you wake up the next morning and decide to have a serious conversation with him after class bc that day you have a free hour after your lecture

it’s all you can think about during the class so you’re kinda distracted plus the partial sleep deprivation is getting to you

and he notices so he’s like

“bro u alright?”

so you just think fuck it and go

“hey real talk tho”

“ya”

“maybe i’ve been overanalysing this so,, tell me if i am but”

“sure”

“do you ,,, actually mean all those pickup lines ,, like are they based off, , real feelings or is this just part of the friendship dynamic”

and you’re almost surprised when he gets serious with you

he’s always been so lighthearted and sarcastic about things

but when he listens to your side of things and how you’re worried about whether or not you’ve been leading him on or something

he lets you finish and just tells you his feelings as well

“i’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have that dynamic and i guess i tried it on you without being honest ,, half to see if you would flirt back and half to just joke around ,;; i’m sorry that you got confused but i guess this means you don’t have? romantic feelings?”

so you have to reply honestly

“not necessarily ,, it’s been fun to have these conversations and laugh at pickup lines but”

“nothing behind it right”

“..yeah”

and instead of putting a damper on the atmosphere

it’s actually

refreshing

it clears the air in a way you didn’t expect

“right? nah it’s fun what we have going”

and you agree

aside from the confusion behind the flirting it’s been really fun talking to him and getting to know him

half of him was a lil disappointed that it didn’t go the romantic path but then again he wasn’t sure he had romantic feelings anyway

so he settles for

The Best Friend™

and so the friendship turns into sibling-like teasing and petty arguing from that day onwards

legit you’ll catch him staring

“what” “wHat” “what u lookin at” “whAt U loOkIn At” “stop copying me” “sToP CoPYinG mE” /you slap his arm/ “oW”

whimpers a lil clutching his arm uwu babie

“you hit harder than the bass drop”

sending each other bio memes and yelling at each other to go commit lysis

“lysosomes can take you out because you’re TRASH”

“i would send a macrophage after you you PATHOGEN”

calling him a parasite when he asks u for notes that he missed in class but it happens vice versa anyways lmfao

then one morning lab class he forgets his pencil case in his dorm like he forgot his laptop on the first day

except this time you call him a forgetful dumbass

all while offering a pencil from your own pencil case

which he takes

so he calls his roommate who “has a noon class and is probs still sleeping lol” to ask him if he can bring it down for him bc he’s got more lab classes that day

so after the class you wait outside the building for his roommate to arrive

and when he does he gives you a rlly nice smile and says “ʰᶦ”

“oh hello”

“yes this is my adoptive younger sister and my/n this is my roommate the Elder”

“ah you’re overreacting” the roommate turns to you and u ,, gotta admit ,

he’s really cute ,,, “don’t listen to anything donghyuk says, all he does is lie”

“hEY i am a SINCERE MEMBER OF CIVILISATION”

the roommate points to donghyuk again and goes “see he’s even lying about being civil”

so you laugh and gang up on donghyuk like “oh i saw through him a long time ago”

“wow he even lied about how” /puts up air quotes/ “ugly you AREN’T”

“wHAT”

“HE SAID IT NOT ME”

donghyuk is flabbergasted at this point

“wHEN DID I SAY THAT MY/N WAS UGLY”

“WANNA TELL ME THAT YOURSELF MR LEE DONGHYUK HUH”

which results in a sulky hyuk and you two laughing at his reaction of being Wronged™

he regrets letting u two meet in that moment

oh but we don’t

“ok u did ur mission. u can go now”

“so mean :((”

but donghyuk’s roomie waves at you while turning to leave and you wave back ,,

trying to calm yourself bc you’re highkey feeling kinda hot ur cheeks r burning up

he said ?? donghyuk was lying when he said u were ugly?

damn

donghyuk’s pickup lines had never been direct compliments about you

but this one from his roommate wasn’t a pickup line it was just

a statement

and it made u feel a typa way

dw baby it’s gonna be a happy ending uwu

and u tell ur roomie that night abt it too

“bRO his rOOMMATE”

“what’s his NAME i gotta FANGIRL WITH YOU”

“.. idk”

“.. oh”

/short pause, lip smack/

“.. lib tomorrow?”

“.. ya sure”

the next day after classes you check your phone and see that she’s texted you asking if her friend and his friend from eng lit can come and join you guys in the lib

and, naturally, u don’t see why not

so u reply

“the more the merrier”

the more the merrier for us too sweetie hmm hmm

eeeeeeéeeeeeèeeeeee

mhm mhm mhm it’s finally getting somewhere

click here to continue your friendship with eng lit!mark!

I ⇤ | II | ⇥ III

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fighterfortheforgotten · 6 years

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PINOF Through the Ages

ah, November, that special time of year between halloween and christmas where i can buy “fun sized” (read “thumb sized”) chocolate bars and tinsel in the same aisle at walmart…

it’s also that time of year where members of the phandom, young and old, come together and collectively binge watch all the PINOF videos in preparation for the newest installment, as we wait with bated breath for what fresh hell we’re gonna be hit with this year.

today, i would like to share with you my observations of PINOF Through The Years, as we embark on the fucking trip that is sure to be PINOF 9…

Phil is not on fire (25 October 2009)

- can you IMAGINE what the hell Phil’s parents and/or brother must’ve thought when they were filming that/saw it for the first time?! Phil brings home this random kid he found in a train station and they start giggling like actual 12 year olds and wandering round the house talking about The Shining, using the exercise equipment Phil has probably never stepped foot on in his life, and drawing on their faces in sharpie? i can fucking HEAR Kath saying “Phil…honey…are you on the drugs?” and Martyn cackling like a lunatic in the background at his brother and his weird friend….

- Dan is trying so. damn. hard. not to laugh throughout the entire video.

- Speaking of Dan, even back then he was a sassy, cocky lil shit… “every animal makes that noise with you…” “wow Phil, i bet they’re all so glad they can see the diagram…” “no, okay, Phil has really crappy GHDs that don’t even work…they don’t even work…they are Poundland GHDs.”

- everyone always talks about The Tackle™ at the end of the video, but not NEARLY enough people talk about the lil smirk Phil gives the camera just before it…like, seriously?! that’s a “haha, here goes nothing!” kinda smirk. thats a “lol watch this!” kinda smirk. thats a “give the people what they want” kinda smirk…im just sayin’…

Phil is not on fire 2 (29 May 2010)

- okay, first of all, Dan…sweetheart…did you borrow that cardigan from your mum?

- Dan: “if you could choose which surname you had, what would be your decision?” Phil: “…umm…” *almost imperceptible but still definitely there jumpcut* Phil: “Striker!”….yeah, yeah, yeah, alright, everyone knows that Phil really said “yours” in an incredibly sheepish and embarrassed voice to Dan that made him go “awwww!….you’re cutting that out…”, but lets appreciate the editing skills it took to make the cut so completely (almost) seamless….

- oh. my. GOD! there is an ENTIRE post JUST about the microwave moment, but i have to reiterate it again for those who have recently entered this hellscape: imagine you are Phil Lester, a 23 year old adult with an ENGLISH LANGUAGE DEGREE, and in comes this adorable 18 year old twink trying to tell you that “microwave” is a fucking onomatopoeia! if i was Phil, THIS would be the moment i’d never let Dan live down. fuck “hello internet”, if he ever pissed me off i’d just be like “yeah, well, at least i know microwave isn’t a fucking onomatopoeia…” and walk away. argument done, you win every time.

- and that being said, again, lets appreciate how much we can learn from the facial expressions of Philip Michael Lester. in that moment, the look he gives Dan is pure “are you fucking serious…?” it is incredulity in a nutshell. it is shock and fondness and “oh my god you are such a twat…”. if there were a dictionary of facial expressions, Phil’s face at the moment Dan says fucking microwave is his favourite onomatopoeia would be the one next to the definition of “wtf?”

Phil is not on fire 3 (1 November 2011)

- 2011 was, by far, the WORST year for Dan and Phil’s hair. tragic. absolutely tragic…

- wow, Dan was right, every animal DOES make the same noise to Phil, including horrific genetic hybrids of land and sea mammals…

- Dan’s ability to almost unhinge his jaw is terrifying…and i’m sure has played a part in lots of phanfic that i’m definitely not going to look for ever…

- okay, seriously guys?! the word is vagina. say it with me: vagina. come on! all together now! it’s not a *awkward silence and weird hand gesture*, it’s not a “birth area", it’s just a vagina…for someone who knows so much about placenta, it strikes me as odd that Dan can’t say the word vagina out loud…

- i’ve never heard anyone giggle as much as Dan does in this video…

Phil is not on fire 4 (12 September 2012)

- the hair is better this year…slightly…

- whoever decided that those face mask things were a good idea needs to be buried alive…the way they look when they move is so horrifying, it gives me nightmares.

- the “gu-hoy!” noise Dan makes in this video (ts 3:21 if you’re at all interested) is my text alert on my phone and it makes me panic every time i watch it because im like “wtf is someone texting me for at 11:53 pm?!” but then i realize it’s just the video and that i’m actually still very alone and have no friends…

- (bloopers bonus!) petition to have 2012 be known in the phandom as, ‘The Year Dan Was Finally Comfortable With The Word Vagina’. that’s all it was guys! he learned a new word and just wanted to show how broad his vocabulary had become!

Phil is not on fire 5 (22 November 2013)

- and right off the bat we’re affronted again by the fact that Dan and Phil have zero concept of how female anatomy works….

- this is probably the most uneventful pinof in the entire series.

Phil is not on fire 6 (6 November 2014)

- to return to the hair discourse, i firmly maintain that 2014 was the best year for their haircuts/styles.

- Phil has no concept of what a sassy face is…

- #StopPhil201X needs to just be a recurring thing every year…

- that poor, poor snake…

- petition for Dan to sing the national anthem at every tour stop in 2018

- the idea of Dan trying to carry on the legacy of Phil Is Not On Fire after Phil’s death is so damn heartbreaking to me…i need a minute

- my lil demon soul is convinced that Phil was doing *something* to Dan’s neck when they both tried to fit through that sweater…i mean, look at his face when he laughs and says “stop". seriously?!

- something about Dan with his fringe swapped, on the wrong side of the bed, and wearing Phil’s shirt makes me feel almost uncomfortable, but in a way that i’m not entirely sure how to process…

- (bloopers bonus!) to reiterate! every animal does, in fact, make the same noise to Phil. this has now been confirmed 3 times.

- (bloopers bonus!) the amount of pleasure Phil is able to derive from any mention of Hello Internet warms the deepest recesses of my soul like the light of the sun after a 1000 year winter.

Phil is not on fire 7 (29 November 2015)

- uh, excuse me? do not drag my country in such a way. Canada is indeed real. it’s where maple syrup comes from. as someone who enjoys the simplicity of a good pancake, i expected better from you Mr. Philip.

- i feel so bad for their neighbours during the stress mushroom tug of war…like, can you imagine what those poor people must’ve thought of them? i’d love to interview their neighbours one day…better yet, their neighbours should write a book: “I Lived Next To YouTubers For 5 Years: The Adventure" and just have it be a chronicle of every weird thing they ever witnessed/encountered.

- with every passing year, Dan’s knowledge of fanfiction tropes and writing styles becomes increasingly disturbing…hide the smut everyone Daniel Howell is coming for it.

- Phil! with the puns! honestly Dan, how do you put up with this man?

- (bloopers bonus!) the way dans voice changes when he grabs Phils underwear and is just ENTHRALLED with the fact that he’s colour coordinates his boxers to his bedsheets is probably the single most disgusting thing i have ever witnessed in my entire life…i mean, i love it, but why are you SO EXTRA?!

Phil is not on fire 8 (29 November 2016)

- NOTHING in the animal or cutlery kingdoms should be born or created in the way Phil describes the birthing process of a spork!

- okay. OKAY! i love the fringes, i really do. i’m a fringe fan from way back, but the hair pushed back thing they get going on sometimes? i can get on board with that.

- aaaannd at 1:57 into pinof 8, the little game i like to play called “Phan or Viktuuri" had all of its lines blurred so far beyond recognition i’m not even sure which universe i’m living in anymore.

- the PSA for “staying hydrated"…such a harmless, and beautiful message about health and self care that the phandom managed to turn into a sex meme…but no one is surprised by that now, are they?

- i need to know why that stock photo exists in the first place…also, why the hell was Phil wearing sandals in November?

- (bloopers bonus!) Phil: “phil is not on fire 8! this time its…what the tagline?” the phandom: “…gayer than ever?” Dan: “full of regrets.” the phandom: “…i mean I GUESS!!!”

- (bloopers bonus!) everything about this blooper reel just confirms even more solidly that Dan is the biggest Phil fan in the world. i’m not gonna wax poetic about the compliments or the comparisons to sunshine or anything else, because at this point is it really necessary? no. i thought not.

and there we have it. just in time for PINOF 9 to be released, a full (and much more in depth than intended) recap of the saga thus far…wake me up when Gamingmas starts, cuz after this video comes out, i’m gonna need a solid week of sleep

#pinof 9 #dan and phil #phandom #daniel howell #phil lester #amazingphil #pinof8 #pinof 7 #pinof 6 #pinof 5 #pinof 4 #pinof 3 #pinof 2 #pinof 1 #pinof #phil is not on fire #danisnotonfire #2017 in the phandom #my own special brand of shitpost

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deathnoting · 7 years

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abecedarian (4/26)

back @ ya with that beyond birthday shit

previous parts: a b c

warning: animal death

d. dog (c. 1988)

B kills the groundskeeper’s dog, and then everyone shouts a lot at everyone else.

Mr. Kassir, who makes the drive from the Southhampton University Hospital every other Wednesday to give them their anatomy lesson, is in the middle of a lecture about arterial systems when the house begins to creak with commotion. The hard-soled shoes of the maids clack outside the door, trailed more softly by their whispers. A is taking color-coded notes in blue and black and red ink in his white notebook with its pale blue lines. B is drawing a realistic blood splatter on his desk with permanent marker. L has already passed anatomy, and is excused.

Q waits for the lesson to be over before he asks them into his office. When he explains what’s happened to Figgy, A’s eyes glisten and his nose runs and he keeps on shaking his head, back and forth, back and forth. B studies his pain with fascination. As he’d done it, he’d been aware that people generally like a live dog better than a dead one, but it hadn’t felt like an evil act. Animals have no numbers, no names, and B has never known if that means they are absent a soul, or if his soul is just incompatible with their’s. He had been trying to find out, by looking inside of Figgy, but all that he’d found was what Mr. Kassir has already told him. Thorax, neck, nasal plane. He’d stared at the wet pink tissue and nothing had stared back.

Q asks them, very plainly and without censure, if they know anything or saw anything.

“No.” The word quivers out of A.

“No.” B can’t help his apologetic smile.

—

He was maybe four when he realized that everybody else was half blind. Hiroko Ando, the only person he’d ever been tempted to call Mom, told him that. She held his face in her ring-heavy hands and kissed his cheeks and said, “Nobody else sees those numbers, Beyond. You are a very special boy. There is absolutely nobody like you.”

B cried when they took him away from her and her husband and their ramshackle house, their steaming bowls of soba noodles, cats chasing cats through the yard. They hung wind chimes from the rafters of the balcony, read him stories at night, and threw laughing drunken parties with all of their laughing drunken friends cramped into the living room, flicking syringes and telling him to go back to bed.

“Other people don’t see what you see, baby boy. Other people don’t know what you know.”

B does not cry for Figgy the dog.

—

R and Q raise their voices at one another, then hush them down low. He listens through the wall, slumped in one of the crawlspaces. He asks the mice to keep it down but they have no manners. R uses words like Trauma, Maladjustment, and Diagnosis. Q uses words like Precocious. Between the two of them, they say his name twenty-seven times. B keeps count.

When he climbs out of the passageway, L is there, slumped with his ear against the door, chewed-up lollipop hanging crooked from his mouth. Maybe he doesn’t know about the secret passages. Maybe he cannot hear the house breathe and shuffle and sigh. His eyes dart to B, spooked for a second, but he holds in his flinch commendably.

B has not seen him since the morning they were introduced, though he has felt his ripples: floorboards trembling, doorknobs clicking, bannisters squeaking. He’s found the room directly below L’s and listened to his movements through the ceiling. He’s traced his midnight paths to and from the kitchen, library, and telephone, examining crumbs and dog-eared pages left in his wake. To meet him suddenly in person, without intending to, is like sighting some rare and portentous animal. An albino crow means good luck. A black cat means bad luck. A dead dog means—

“You killed Figgy.” L doesn’t say it like a question.

B bites his lip. His whole body gets warm every time he hears L’s voice. “You killed Figgy.”

L rolls his eyes. “Not this again.”

B rolls his eyes. “Not this again.”

L scoffs and starts walking away. His disinterest is feigned but the distance that grows between them is real. B’s pulse thuds and his throat clenches through ways to make him stick around.

“I know when you’re going to die,” he says to the white back of L’s shirt.

L stops walking. B sees gauzy specters in the corners of his eyes, and shoos them away. He takes a step forward just as L reels around, face contorted in a sneer, and says, “I could make them get rid of you, you know.”

He’d taken as a threat what had been intended as promise. B chews on the inside of his cheek.

“You don’t like that I’m good at being you,” he observes.

L’s nostrils flare. His scrawny shoulders clench. “That’s not—there’s something wrong with you.”

B takes another step toward him. “There’s something wrong with you.”

L shoves him with two hands, palms to his chest, and B doesn’t resist for an instant. He falls to the floor at L’s feet and it’s like slotting right into place. L looks like he wants to kick him and B wonders if he might have found something worth finding if he had cut L open instead of the dog. He wonders if this is what Hiroko meant when she spoke about secrets that were only for him. He likes the jut of L’s nose and brutal limiting force of his numbers.

“Keep away from me,” L says, before stomping down the hall, and B repeats the words back to himself until he gets the inflection right.

—

Everybody knows but nobody says outright what B did. A woman whose letters say Hope Millward comes to the house and asks B a series of questions, makes him look at a series of pictures, and writes placid observations into a crisp notebook. Q regards him with chiding sympathy, R with poorly concealed horror. The maids clean his room in pairs, and double back when they see him in the hallways, whispering flattering exaggerations. The evil eye that is shortly hung above the door of the groundskeeper’s cabin is not questioned. All households become superstitious when encouraged.

A won’t speak to B for weeks. He’d liked to feed Figgy scraps off his dinner plate. He’d liked the coarse hair on her jowls. He finds teeming life in the places where B sees only death. He doesn’t understand the secret geography that surrounds them. He only breaks his silence on the morning that B pulls him out of bed just after dawn, leads him up into the topmost branches of the property’s third-largest hawthorn, and shows him a cluster of webs as big as both their bodies put together and crawling with furry anthropods that grow to monstrous proportions under his magnifying glass.

A’s voice quivers when he says thank you. B grins with his gums.

#death note #beyond birthday #l lawliet #jaye writes fic #abecedarian #i'm back to writing my novella but i do have a few more parts of this written #semi written??

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indiedream89 · 7 years

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NaruHina AU

This story is so great. My favorite author Yuhikoi. You can find her on ao3 or fanfiction.net. This NaruHina story is dark and funny. Chapter 1: Books and Covers Chapter Text They say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. He didn't know just who the hell theywere but, they weren't fooling anyone with that crock-of-shit proverb, least of all him. It was human nature to look at something and either give a whole shit about it or pass it up with little to no consideration. Although these days people liked to straddle the fence and pretend to be open-minded. And he gusssed...who could blame them? Everyone was so goddamn sensitive regarding personal preferences these days. He sighed. That must be where that stupid trope came from. One big proverbial bandage for the uglies of this world, to make things equal. 'You can be pretty on the inside, since your outsides look like it's been run through by a train comprised of grenades and aids.' Internally he was smirking. He thought he'd look like an idiot smiling in front of the class for seemingly no reason. "Uzumaki Naruto?" He inhaled deeply. A deep breath was all it took for him to adapt to almost any situation. The intake of breath felt as though he were giving birth to the new him or the him that he wanted to project most. He almost felt he was morphing into something less heavy of the burden he bared daily. A metamorphosis was taking place, whether the people around him knew it or not. He unclenched his teeth from impaling the inside of his cheek, the raw and coppery taste of blood excited his dullened taste buds. "Yes sir, that's correct." He stared blindly into the blurry mass of his classmates. What was this fuckin' class anyway? Anatomy or something? He didn't take enrolling seriously. And from the looks of it, neither had anyone else, no one looked particularly stoked or attentive. Continuing to play the part of expectations he rolled his shoulders back and stood with the perfect posture he almost never used when he was alone. Being lazy had been his default mode but for the sake of appearances, he had to leave bad habits behind. Though there were some habits he just couldn't shake, his posture was easily the basic of the bunch. The more-- bestial habits simply wouldn't allow him to be cleansed of them. Some habits clung to every aspect of his life and wove themselves tirelessly through every joint in his body. But standing up straight, he could do. "Mr. Uzumaki is joining us all the way from," the professor looked at the blonde student beside him in silent inquiry, a sheen on sweat over his brows. He was standing behind an official looking podium, reading over Naruto's tidy student file or the altered version of it anyway. At this point, Naruto had already revealed this piece of information to professor Iruka more times than he had beat his meat just this very morning. However, he felt inclined to reiterate, if only to be over this whole ordeal and take his seat. Being singled-out as the new student never made the tiniest bit of sense to him. It hadn't been desired by him nor his new classmates; who regarded him with seemingly thoughtless faces. Who gave a fuck about some guy transferring in the middle of the semester anyway? Everyone would acquaint themselves with him eventually. Why did teachers want to make a spectacle of this particular event? Did it get them off? He felt personally attacked and frankly, agitated that he had to repeat himself. "Kyoto, Japan." He stated in a raspy baritone to his peers, his voice reached further than the first row of cluttered students. He could feel the deepness of his tone rumbling in his chest, almost like a growl trapped in his throat. "Kyoto!" Professor Iruka sang abruptly, shadowing Naruto's words and in a horrifyingly toneless voice. The sound seemed responsible for why people often died without reason. "Getting too old for this remembering-thing, sincerest apologies Mr.-Uh-hmph-Uzumaki." He babbled snapping his fingers, as though the light bulb in his head had finally decided to click on and return the memories of the last ten seconds when he had a similar conversation with Naruto. The blonde offered thin grin and held the strap of his messenger bag securely. This fuckin guy! He couldn't help but to look at Iruka's unkempt appearance and believe the teacher had lived a desolate and god-awful-boring life, which had led him to his current career path. Around his late thirties, no wedding band, a horrible sense of fashion and easily forgetful. Iruka was clearly someone who got in where they fit in and forgot to check-out, regrettably, it seems. He embodied nothing of what teachers were conditioned to look like, in fact, of all the faces that looked like they didn't want to be there-Irukas face was in the top five of those. Judging from the emptiness of his beady eyes, Naruto could tell nothing-as of late- seemed to impress the guy. It's like he's one bad day away from blowing his brains out on the chalkboard, after first flipping the class off and maybe fucking a few student. Maybe. Who knows how long it's been since the guy had ravaged someone's goods. If his looks were any indication, it's been centuries. Iruka needed pussy like, yesterday. Hopefilly Naruto would still be attending the school to catch his untimely meltdown. It may very well be the most exciting thing Iruka has ever done with his life. A hand suddenly clasped his shoulder faintly and Iruka came into view with what tried to be a smile but turned into something slightly mortifying. Maybe a grimace? The face that came during a heart attack? He couldn't be sure. "Welcome to Leafli University, we trust that you'll succeed in all your academics this year and," he droned in a practiced trans of some sort. "contribute to the livelihood of our vibrantly thriving community. This is our mission statement. That being said, I'll have you take a seat beside," he craned his small neck to squint into the masses before pointing a finger to the second row of three long desks. "the vivacious Rock Lee." The teacher smelled like he ate the coffee grounds right out of the bag and washed it down with its liquid form. It was so potent it nearly gave him a migraine standing this close to the guy. Caffeine had no effects on his dull personality what-so-ever. Finally, he shuts the hell up. With a noncommittal grunt, Naruto sauntered forward having no idea what the fuck a Rock Lee was, even less of what it looked like. He peered towards the faces that examined him with either boredom, unfiltered curiosity or immediate regret for having looked at him too closely. Girls shied away from his icy blue eyes, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He flashed his most debonair smile and climbed the elongated steps at the side of the classroom. He navigated towards the second row and stood conflicted for a moment or two. He could hear Iruka already giving instructions about completing something in a workbook, his voice still monotone though it managed to raise an octave to override a few whispers that began to disperse. "Hey new guy, Psst!" Someone hissed in a whisper. Naruto's eyes flickered towards frantic hands waving over someone's head. They were located in the middle table of the second row. By the look of excitement displayed on the guy's unearthly face, he could tell this was what a Rock Lee looked like and boy was it a treat. No part of it good either. Holy fuckin-fuck. Are those eyebrows or the world's deadliest caterpillars? It took several seconds for his legs to function. So, not only had he been put on the spot but he also had to sit next to a potential faggot with a bizarre haircut and some sort of green spandex turtleneck. The guys eyes were as big as saucers for fucks sake. Fuck you Iruka. Rock Lee rose out of his seat noisily, beckoning the befuddled blonde with the sweep of a gloved hand. Naruto moved with an urgency just so everyone wouldn't be looking at them and drawing conclusions like; they knew each other, fucked each other or shared brow grooming tips with each other. He didn't associate with people like faggot brows and he had no intentions of starting. It wasn't that he was homophobic or anything, he just steered cleared of flamboyant types in general. He always had a blatant way of expressing himself that some found sickening. The truth never seemed a valuable concept in a world full of people who wanted their feelings to be spared. Everyone seemed to be a victim of something, one way or the other. An arm suddenly lashed out to prevent him from reaching faggot brows. He paused and examined the shiny red coat on someone's fingernails, it reminded him of the bloodied talons of a hawk. His eyes swept over a girl with pink tresses of hair cascading over one of her eyes. A visible emerald orb pierced him intently before a smile touched the swell of her plump glossy lips. If the class resembled book covers (for the sake of this whole, judging books by covers segment), she would be the book embellished with silky ivory feathers with the words, 'It's free, come hither' bedazzled on the front. She looked like a grinning cliché as she chewed around a pen cap. He could see the word, short and straight to the point. Whore. It flashed welcomingly over her head like some type of marquee in front of a cheap theater. A faint smile etched itself over his lips. "No need to go any further, there's a perfectly hot seat right here. Lee won't miss you and there's a reason he's in that desk alone soooo you can just thank me later." She stated flirtatiously, skootching towards a person who refused to accommodate their unsanctioned pairing. Oh, is that right? "Hinata, move over," The pink haired girl uttered viciously under her breath when it became clear the girl beside her wouldn't budge. The figure beside her was so small that he didn't understand how the pink haired girl's hefty ass hadn't knocked her over. Her emerald eyes were sharper than daggers as they turned on the smaller girl beside her. Even he knew the desks weren't designed for three people to cram into one booth, so he could understand why the smaller girl hadn't been in a hurry to comply to the scowling girl beside her. The smaller girl, he decided he would call her, The Hoodie. The Hoodie's wispy bangs obscured most of her face, she was hunched forward over an open workbook not saying a word and possibly tuning the girl beside her out. That seemed to peeve the whore even more. "Are you freakin kidding me right now? Just go sit with Lee," She pressed to the girl beside her, the sneer on her lips made her look rabid, "don't make a scene Hinata, you'll regret it." Surrounding eyes began to dart towards the conflict. The chatting escalated. Great. Now I've got to defuse this. He really didn't need the hassle. This situation was more trouble than it was worth and on his first day. Although he wouldn't mind it if shit got sour. It could be the highlight of his first day. A real milk fight. He mentally chastised himself for what he was about to do because he did enjoy catty fights. Maybe someone's tit got misplaced in the brawl, maybe hoodie girl could be packing a thicc body underneath her heaps of hood. "Hey, thats alright, she can keep the seat. I'm a big boy I can take care of myself sweetheart and besides, I wont be too far away, if that's what concerns you." He teased in his most velvety voice. The pink haired girl snapped her neck towards him like she would protest but then resignation dawned on her face. Her brows unfurled but he could tell she was still slightly miffed about the stunt the hoodie girl had pulled. "Mmmhm, you're funny! How about I make it up to you after class?" She suggested. You'll do more than make it up to me, you just don't know. You shameless, shameless whore. He didn't miss the way her tongue subtly swirled over the chewed-in pen cap. It sent a jolt of tremendous pleasure to his groin and he couldn't pass up this opportunity of communicating that with a single longing stare. He felt his tongue rolling against the swell of his inner cheek deliciously, he could still taste his blood. She stared right back at him, her lips quirked up with unsaid determination. "Sounds like a plan beautiful," he says knocking his knuckles against her desk to demonstrate his enthusiasm of the idea. "See you then." I'm going to skull fuck those tonsils out of that filthy mouth and after that, who knows. Way too easy, he was almost disappointed. To some degree he knew it would go that smoothly. This was to be expected from girls like her, they fed on attention and admiration. He had an eye for these types of women, there was nothing particularly compelling about them, except their expertise in giving damn-good sloppy head and things similar to that nature. In some ways, he supposed that was the talent he valued in them. Everyone could be useful in some way. He hadn't had any fun in two weeks and for him, that was a record; one he didn't wish to advance any further in. Though, advance he must-as far as penetrating goes. He had rarely sullied his cock on strangers who right away wanted to give it up to him. It just seemed like it held no challenge to him-even though getting head from said stranger was arguably the same concept. Arguably! He thought sex was too good a fate for the stuck-up bitch in front of him, he was certain she'd crave more after he force fed her his pulsing cock. He wanted to play the long game so he'd have something to occupy his time while he settled into his scheming lifestyle. It wouldn't hurt to know at least one person. She'll have to suffice, for now. He continued sidestepping towards his seat. Lee was peering down the aisle mouthing a question he couldn't make sense of, he wouldn't try to either. He intended to approach Lee like someone would an estranged cousin they had no intentions of knowing. "You do that again, I'll slit your throat you dirty bitch." He could hear the pink haired girls voice threaten lowly, her tone darker than the bellish one she attempted to enchant him with before. He knew she had been talking to the hoodie girl. She said it so matter-of-factly that he knew it definitely hadn't been the first time she threatened the girl. It never surprised him, the lengths most girls would go through for the attention he just provided to her. It hadn't even been long but it was enough for her to realize she wanted it. She wanted him. Nothing was ever complicated about that type of girl, they only flaunted their tits and financial superiority over everyone else. From what he could see, she didn't have tits to flaunt but her hips were bountiful. He could work with that. He desperately needed to indulge in something sexual before he lost his fuckin' mind or whatever was left of it. Just this once. He just hoped she wasn't the type to downplay her experience or else things would get sickening fast. If he had a dime for how often someone sucked his dick and begun with, "I don't normally- ", he would be leaving campus on his personal jet. He slid into the booth with Lee and began to unload a composition notebook; the only thing he remembered to pack after arising from a deathlike stupor this morning. "Hey man. I'm Lee, Rock Lee." "So I've heard." He sounds too proud to be the owner of such a shitty name. "You know Sakura, Sakura Haruno?" The voice was uneven, like the guy had just begun the early stages of puberty and his tones hadn't synced. Naruto didn't turn to address him; he shook his head and idly drummed his own against the table. "Should I know them?" he asked irritably. "Pink hair, really nice dsl's." Lee described with several concerning breaths. Naruto scoffed out a chuckle . Maybe he isn't a faggot after all. "The girl over there, what about her?" "She talks a good game but she'll paint your balls blue all night long. She's a tease, man, like it's a hobby." Hmph. "Is she?" he asked feigning disinterest, he blandly stared at the chalk board that Iruka approached scrawling almost dramatically over its surface as though he were hashing lines in a jail cell. "Mhm. Just thought I'd give you the heads-up buddy. Bros before hoes, right." Rock Lee commented in too expressive of a whisper. The guy could have just as well been talking normally. It was clear to him that this faggot Lee (he had already gotten used to calling him a faggot) had been rejected by the obnoxious whore Sakura. Sakura? That was her name, for real? She even had a cute-whore name to go along with her future profession. Four years from now, provided she hadn't perished at the hands of himself or someone else, he'd be sure to visit the local strip club and pay his respects. "Thanks bud, I uh-appreciate the tip." He said back to Lee, hearing the humor in his own voice. It was evident Lee couldn't distinguish the tone, his face lit up in an outrageously smug grin, he even held up a thumb proudly like he had just done Naruto a solid. Like he had just dutifully told his best friend his wife was fucking the mailman. Naruto felt his brows raised involuntarily, caught off guard by the dramatic reaction. He returned the thumb salute, hoping the freak would go back to normal. When Lee finally got back to work he noted to himself to never praise the guy again. Genuine or not. A guy like Lee to a girl like Sakura had probably been about as desirable as gizzards were to most people; you looked at gizzards, you take a whiff of them and then you realized you shouldn't have to tolerate this type of food. There must be something more out there...

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