#I drew this instead of writing my essay.. which is due tomorrow

[pebbleyoufindonthestreet]

I’m not immune to self inserts..

I think he would listen to my rambles hehe

No context for the last one lmao

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AKSJSJSNIWJSHSANSEUSSJSJSKSJSJ AAAAAA

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 246

November 12

Nothing continues to happen, which is good because it means I am doing a good job at quarantining and also these updates are easy to write. Now that the election is pretty much a settled question I’ve actually been feeling more like writing and have knocked out a couple pages of the next chapter on Rental Cars and Westbound Trains. Hopefully that will be coming soon to an AO3 near you! Of course, Desert Bus for Hope starts tomorrow and is going to hopefully be awesome despite being 100% virtual this year and will take a lot of my attention. 

For anybody who doesn’t know, Desert Bus for Hope is LoadingReadyRun’s annual fundraiser for Child’s Play, which is a charity that buys video games and toys for children’s hospitals around the world. Every year since 2007, they have gotten together in November for a marathon session of the game Desert Bus, which is widely regarded as the most boring video game ever invented. The sole action of Desert Bus is steering a passenger bus from Tucson, AZ to Las Vegas, NV in real time, which is an eight hour trip. The steering wheel pulls slightly to the right so you must continue steering at all times, and if you make the entire trip without crashing, you earn one point and are given the option to make a return trip. The sheer monotony of the game means that most of the marathon stream is an exercise in thinking of other fun things to do while the game goes on. Last year for Desert Bus 2019, they played for seven days straight and earned over $850k for charity. This year instead of all being in one place they will be marathoning virtually from home, but it should still be a good time. 

Continuing the theme of Christmas presents, I passed the Amazon Wishlists for my family and me this week to our relatives who like to shop early, and MIL went seriously ham on them basically right away. This resulted in my sister texting me to inform me that my list was lame and asking if I really wanted contractor bags for Christmas. The answer to that was of course yes because contractor bags are fucking expensive and very useful, but also drew my attention to the fact that MIL had eviscerated our lists because she is a woman who really, really likes online shopping. This would be worrying except she is pretty well set with the financial advisor now and so I’m fairly sure she’s safe to do Christmas however she wants. In any case, the kiddo and I went and added more items to our lists and my husband revealed the existence of his second, ultra-secret wish list that he had held back because he knows how his mom is. That man is clever! 

Not a lot else happened today, it is still raining and there were flash flood warnings around the area. I also had to extend sympathy to all our Cincinnati/NKY friends who have to deal with both the Spence and Roebling bridges being closed due to the many foibles of semi trucks, and the already terrible traffic being completely FUBARed for the foreseeable future. Back when we lived in Northern Kentucky, Husband worked in Cincinnati and had to commute every day. It was a terrible drive even with the bridge open, and having the bridge closed would’ve doubled it. Ouch. Our friends in Florida and Alabama seem to have fared okay despite Hurricane Eta, which is what is dumping all this rain. The kiddo finished a third paragraph on his narrative essay, which is spelled terribly but flowing pretty well. That’s what first drafts are for, anyway. Oh, and Husband finished his last day of teaching for the semester. Now it’s just final exams and grading, then a long break until January in the hopes that combining holiday breaks will lead to less travel and contagion. Here’s hoping, because that curve is starting to look like a line ramping straight up. 

[bat-besties]

On Impossibility - 5

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3    Chapter 4    Chapter 6   Chapter 7   Chapter 8  Chapter 9

A popular!Logan and loser!Roman high school AU based on @2pointomg’s idea with eventual Prinxiety. 

impossible 

ɪmˈpɒsɪb(ə)l

adjective

·       not able to occur, exist, or be done.

Eg. It is impossible to fund both the sports and drama programmes with the school’s limited budget.

·       very difficult to deal with.

Eg. The situation which Logan Sanders, Student Body President, is in after he convinced the school board to cut the unsuccessful drama programmes is impossible.

·       (of a person) very unreasonable.

Eg. Roman Prince.

To Roman, nothing is impossible. Not following his older brother Patton to acting college, not being a loser taking on the school’s popular Student Body President and definitely not writing and performing an epic school play with no money and six cast and crew members.

Edited by @alpacasarethegreenestanimal, who has an amazing fanfiction on AO3! If you like superheroes, sarcasm and Virgil angst then you'll love this

@toolazytothinkofcreativename

@entitydark

@romanasanders

@barclays-sides

@cashmeredragon

@jughead-is-canonically-aroace

@immacrazyfangirl

@narniasfinestavengingsociopath

@featuredfander

@what-a-catch-joe

@mightaswellenthuseaboutbooks

@candiukas​

@whatamessofwords 

Logan had never been more productive. He was ahead on homework, debate preparation and extra credit work, more invested than ever in running the student council and had recently taken over running the accounts of Elise's band. Cutting out lunchtime as a break had greatly improved his efficiency, which was doubly true when he followed a traditional meal structure of seven or eight meals throughout the day, skipping the need for a proper lunch altogether. His parents had always tried to understand their unique son, so when he explained his new regimen to them they let him take a smaller dinner at his desk as well, providing that he promised them he wouldn’t work himself too hard. Logan wasn’t working hard enough – he taught himself basic ASL and studied Hamlet, watched Bill Nye on his laptop as he read essays on Cicero, then took up jogging every morning before school so he could join the track team. It may seem counter-intuitive, but two weeks on Logan had confirmed the hypothesis that losing Virgil was the best thing which had ever happened to him. 

Virgil leant against Logan's bright red locker, looking as though he was the fulfilment of the collective hopes of Simmons High and had fallen back to sleep. The position was much less comfortable than it looked, and the currents of conversation swirling past him were unnerving, but if he couldn’t see Logan coming then he would be engaged in conversation before he could run away.

There they were – those tapping soles in their regular rhythm cutting across the scuffles and pounding feet of the rest of the student body.

‘Virgil.’ succinct for once in his life, the single word from Logan was both an inquiry and an accusation.

Virgil forced himself to open his eyes slowly. God, Logan looked awful. He had lines under his eyes and his polo shirt had a tiny crease on the shoulder. To the outside eye he seemed fine, but Virgil knew that for Logan this was like rocking up to school in a dressing gown clutching a beer bottle. Why was he like this? Had Elise not checked he was fine after the fight, and had Joan not seen how exhausted he looked, and had the people constantly asking him for help not noticed how overburdened he was? He was with all these damn people the whole time, why hadn’t he asked a single one for help? Virgil hated that he couldn’t stand on his moral high ground when he saw his friend floundering in the waves beneath him.

‘Virgil?’ Logan’s forehead was creased with concern.

'Um, yeah. Well, I was just going to ask you something, but you look really bad man, is everything...Are you okay?’

'I am fine, not that it is any of your concern. What do you want?’

‘Well, I’ve joined Roman’s play thing and we really need money for costumes, so I was wondering if you could, you know find some to, you know, fund it.’

Logan stared at him wide-eyed, ‘Virgil – there is no money. I looked. I don’t know if anyone else but me has realised, but the school has to spend a lot of money ensuring standard of learning is maintained, and its extra-curricular fund is not infinite.’

‘OK, look, man, let’s do this another time, what time were you up last night?’

‘Don’t patronise me, Virgil. Let’s do this right now.’ Logan folded his arms and somehow managed to stand even straighter, ‘I have agreed to help a small group of people from my Spanish class go over verb endings before a pop quiz, and I do not want to keep them waiting.’

‘Fine – what about the debate team trip to New York, could that be made less expensive?’

‘No. And we can’t cancel – all five of us are counting on a national win or at least placing high out of the finalists for college.’

‘Well, the theatre kids need stuff for college too.’

‘I am fully aware of that.’

‘Well, then can we- ‘

‘There is no money!’ Logan quietened his voice after people looked round at his outburst, ‘I have checked, and re-checked, and checked again, and we can run debate, sports teams, bands and choir and assorted student-led societies. Nothing else. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to Spanish.’

‘See you around.’

Something in Logan went slack at that smallest of amicable farewells. Then he drew himself up again. ‘Goodbye.’

Time to wade into the fucking river. ‘Logan, wait.’ The boy turned, ‘Um, we’ve been using lunch to iron out small details to maximise rehearsal time. It’s a good plan – I got it from you.’

Logan smiled a little, ‘Using dead time to work. It does sound like a good plan.’

Virgil cupped a hand at the back of his neck. ‘Would you like to join us? No big deal, just so you’re not sitting alone anymore.’

So, Virgil had noticed him – he had seemed too caught up in stirring up the theatre kids to louder and louder shouts of laughter with his little comments and observations. It was a nice gesture, but when Logan had spent so long as one half of a pair it was hard to be tacked onto Virgil’s new group: all loud, all weird and all on the outskirts of the social structure of the school. Besides, they wouldn’t want him there. He doubted Roman wanted him on the same continent as him, let alone the same lunch table.

‘Sorry, Virgil. I too have been maximising lunchtime efficiency. I – I am glad you at least learnt something from me. Well, I must be going.’

Virgil stood for a moment, watching the crowds rush past him and swallow up Logan. In that moment, he wished he could just let it go, ignore Roman and his crazy dream and Talyn and their beautiful designs trapped on the page, and Dahlia and her corny puns, and Terrence’s dancing, and Valerie’s evil laugh, and Kyle’s love of monologues. He wished he could let go of the memories of green plastic and blood rushing to his head, of the imagined scenario in which he could no longer paint and how much having that taken from him would hurt.

He didn’t want to dramatically run after Logan or tell him he was right and abandon his principles. All he wanted was to be lying on his bed, scrolling through Tumblr and to have Logan flipping through a book on his bedroom floor. Every now and then one would read out something interesting or amusing to the other, mostly they were silent. They might have film music on in the background and there would be a plate of Mint Oreos halfway between them, so that they could both reach. Perhaps later they would brainstorm ideas for Logan’s project, or come up with silly names for emo bands, or watch Cosmos for the fifteenth time and have twin existential crises afterwards. Perhaps they would have dinner with Virgil’s parents and tap Morse code on each other’s chairs beneath the table in one-word inside jokes. Perhaps they would just stay there forever, preserved in the golden afternoon sunlight as though in amber.

The school bell rang shrilly, and Virgil jumped, cursed, and ran to his first lesson.

-----------------------------------

It was ironic, really – Logan working on his Macbook in a comfortable suburban house worrying about money. It wasn’t impacting whether he’d eat or what he could afford to spend his weekend doing. It wasn’t part of his job at all to look at the school’s accounts, but Logan could not just stick to ‘salad bars’ or ‘laptops’. He had gotten this job (twice) to change things, and it had given him power and popularity, so he would do it properly. He had negatively impacted the lives of the theatre kids, and now he had to rectify that. Before, he had decided to follow logic: money for football, track and swimming meant college scholarships for the athletes and prestige for the school, which came at the expense of only fifteen people, and only six of these were really hurt by the decision. But now he would try something different – he couldn’t do the impossible Roman wanted him to, but for Virgil he would try his best to examine what he could do to help the play.

At least he had somewhere to start from: there was no money. How could he get some? Borrowing from a bank wouldn’t work, even if money could be made selling tickets. Fundraising, then. He knew enough by now to know that selling rainbow T-shirts to raise money for theatre may be seen as a slight. Moreover, those free T-shirts were part of a project which would be his legacy to the school which had accepted him: compassion, equality and empathy.  Fine, at $3 each if he could sell 50, then that was $150. It was a start.

He stared out of his window, down the darkening street. Bake sales? Eight people could make a lot of cake, even if two of those had baking skills so disastrous they had vowed to never try having any snacks but Mint Oreos ever again. Logan pushed away his laptop to lie on his bed instead. He closed his eyes. There was a calculus test tomorrow, and he had an essay due in he really should rewrite. However, his priority should be to help the people he was elected to represent.

--------------------

Mariana Sanders tried. She tried to tell her son he didn’t have to do everything himself, she tried not to feel hurt when he corrected her grammar or brushed aside her view on science even if she held a chemistry degree, she even tried to take his textbooks away from him when he stayed up at night working until he began to plead with her and she relented. His father was happy to let Logan do what he wanted, provided he seemed happy and in control, but she just wanted to understand what was making him happy and if he needed help staying in control. She stopped outside his bedroom door and knocked softly. ‘Honey?’

‘Vinegar.’ He sounded tired.

She pushed the door open and threw some papers at him.

‘`Sweet Pea' and `Pussy Cat': An Examination of Idiom Use and Marital Satisfaction Over the Life Cycle’’ he read, then smiled up at her. ‘We’re not married.’

‘Same principle.’ She was glad he was lying down, and his school stuff was away on its shelf, ‘Are you going to bed soon?’

‘Soon.’

‘Sleep is incredibly important- ‘

‘I know.’

She sat down on the bed and tugged on his tie. Sighing dramatically, Logan loosened it, then at a look from his mother removed it completely.

‘Everything alright with you?’

‘There’s a lot on. Still, you know me, perfectly in control of it all.’

‘Invite Virgil over tomorrow, you need a break and I miss his confusion whenever I slip an MCR quote into general conversation.’ She rubbed his arm, ‘I’ll get you guys Oreos.’

‘Mmm.’

Mariana frowned. ‘Logan, is everything alright with you and Virgil?’

That look. He had that look and she was knocked back years. ‘How did you lose your new astronomy book?’, ‘Are you sure that everyone is away on your birthday?’ and once, terrifyingly, ‘Where did you get that bruise?’

‘No. Just a slight disagreement, both he and I are men of principles…’

She pulled him into hug, and he broke off. There was a beat before ugly, racking sobs began to shake his body and he clung onto her desperately. ‘There, there.’ She stroked his back.

A single tear wended its way through Logan’s hair, though he was too upset to notice it. Mariana tried to blink it back. She was the mother, and she was meant to sit and be a rock, not break down alongside her son! But – she was upset for him and angry at him, and goddammit she was human too.

Logan couldn’t even think straight. ‘Mom.’ He had soaked the back of her top, ‘Mom.’

‘I’m here, Lo.’ She was crying openly now, ‘Lo, you idiot, I’m here. I’m here.’

[writers-leir]

soulmate!soonyoung

guess who got a huge burst of inspiration during class today!!!

soulmate!soonyoung where whatever your soulmate draws appears on you as well

you love drawing

ever since you were like 4 you’d been drawing

on the walls, on the sidewalk, on paper, and on your skin

and soonyoung grew up with the little drawings appearing on his skin from seemingly nowhere

it started off with little doodles of stick figures which then evolved into scribbly flowers and patterns

and now that he’s in seventeen his soulmate has started to draw complete landscapes with details he’d never consider

if he looked hard enough, he’d even be able to see the waves moving and the trees rustling and even the birds taking in deep breaths before letting out its song

he’s always so proud of his soulmate he’d show off to the rest of the team like jun!!!!!!!!!!!!!look !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!when is your soulmate ever going to be this talented!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you on the other hand never really like what you draw

there always seems to be something wrong with the drawing

whether it be because you drew one feather more round than the other or because you added one more line to the tree trunk than necessary

honestly you always find something wrong with your drawings no matter how often your friends tell you that you’re the best artist they know

you assume it’s just the artist in you

even your professor is like “you have the skill you just need to be more confident with what you draw”

one day you’re having a particularly bad day

you needed a model for your mid-year project but they bailed on you last minute

and now you need to find another model and finish the painting in three weeks and you’re super stressed

when you get home you realize that there are some scribbles on your arm

“are you okay????????????”

turns out your soulmate is so used to seeing your drawings on his arm every day that when you failed to draw something he got worried

your heart kind of swells because awe,,,,,,,,that’s so sweet,,,,,,,,,, :’^)

you tell soonyoung what happened and he’s like awe ): i’m sorry i wish there was something i could do for you ):

he talks to you until the sun rises the next day and you’re like omg,,,,,,,,i’m so sorry i didn’t realize time had passed so quickly

he wishes you luck as you start getting ready for your classes and the next thing he knows, he’s asleep in the dance studio with empty pens scattered around him

seungcheol scolds him for a good ten minutes about falling asleep with the air conditioner on but he’s honestly not listening

(probably too busy thinking about you)

you talk to your professor that day and they’re totally understanding of the situation

turns out your model actually had bailed on various art major students several times

(they apparently once bailed on their best friend the week before a major film festival)

your professor gives you an extra week to try and find a model

now that you have time you feel so relaxed compared to the night before you decide to go to a cafe off campus and treat yourself to a latte and a treat

inside the cafe you start doodling on your arm again

you draw little details from the cafe such as the indoor garden they have in the innermost corner or the bookshelves stacked to the brim

but there’s still something wrong and you still can’t figure out what

so you decide to stop for the day and just enjoy your treats

you get home and realize that underneath your drawings are scribbles from your soulmate and you’re like !!!!!!!!!!!!!! super excited to talk to him even though you don’t even know his name

he asks you how you’re doing and you’re like i’m!!!!!!!!!!actually doing great my professor gave me an extra week!!!!!!!!!

and he gets so excited for you his handwriting gets even messier and it’s so cute

you two officially introduce each other and you’re like i’ve,,,,,,,definitely heard the name kwon soonyoung somewhere,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

and you’re stuck trying to figure out where you’ve heard his name from until one day you’re talking with your friend who’s a dance major and they’re like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!kwon soonyoung????????as in hoshi from seventeen????????????my dance idol!??!?!is your souLmaTE???????????

you’re sitting in front of them at the cafeteria like oh,,,,,,that’s where i heard his name from,,,,,,,,,,lmao,,,,,,,,

you tell soonyoung about you friend who idolizes him that night and he gets so embarrassed

“are you sURE they were talking about mE and not minghao or someone”

“no no i’m absolutely sure they called you hoshi”

soonyoung starts freaking out about it and you’re like hEY who’s soulmate are you

the next thing he asks you throws you off completely

“why do you not like your drawings?”

and you’re sitting there like wait,,,,,,,,,,,i’ve never told you about that,,,,,,,,,,and that was quite the change of topic,,,,,,,

you ask him what the question is about and you can literally picture him shrug as he starts writing again

“i’ve seen a lot of angry scribbles on my arm and you know,,,,,,,,most people only do that when they get frustrated”

you tell him that you just never liked your art and how there always seems to be something wrong with it no matter how many times you redraw it and how many styles you’ve tried

“but your drawings are amazing!!!! you have no idea how many times i’ve shown off your art to my teammates this month!!!”

you’re internally screaming like,,,,,,,,,is my art really so amazing that he’s shown,,,,,,,,,all his group members,,,,,,,,

he continues writing but his handwriting is so small you’re like squinting,,,,,,,,,

“maybe you should stop drawing for yourself,,,,,,,,”

and you’re super confused about this statement like who else would you draw for?

“you could draw for me instead”

you feel the blood rushing to your face like aksjhdgkjldsLSKAJDGSDA how is he so CHEESY

you don’t know how to reply other than agreeing because????????what else do you say??? no???????

after that though everything seems to run by extremely smoothly

you found another model, finished the painting in less than two weeks, and handed it in before everyone else in your class

and you’ve even stopped trying to find something wrong with your artwork all the time

you focus more on the compliments and suggestions you receive from soonyoung and it feels like a weight has been completely lifted off your shoulders

one day as you’re sitting in your go-to cafe, you notice someone walking in wearing a cap and sunglasses and you’re like but it’s,,,,,,,,,raining,,,,,,,,,,,,,,?

they order and then take a seat nearby you

you shrug it off like whatever people can wear whatever they want

you go back to doodling on your skin

and you notice the person is also writing on their arm but you don’t take much notice of it because soonyoung’s talking with you

until you take a closer look at the person’s arm and realize,,,,,,,,it’s covered in your doodles

and the person’s also noticed your arm

and you two stare at each other like,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,wait,,,,,,,,,that person’s my soULmate

he instantly jumps out of his seat and slides into the chair in front of you and you’re like ajksdghkasdljg wAIt i’m still processing

he shoves his hand towards you while taking off his glasses and you’re like ahdjsgkdalsg he’s,,,,,,,really attractive,,,,,,,,,,

you take his hand and shake it and then the both of you are just sitting there still processing

you speak up first much to your own surprise

“thank you,,,,,,for cheering me on,,,,,,,,,i know i didn’t support you a lot but,,,i’m extremely grateful for your encouragement,,,”

he grins and you’re like ajdhgkalsjgdsg he’s so cute what the frick

“thank you for your concern too!!!!!!! i know you’ve had an extremely stressful month”

and you feel lowkey bad because he’s an idol,,,,,,,,he’s probably way more busy than you are but he still manages to comfort you about being stressed,,,,,,

you two kind of sit there just enjoying the silence and each other’s presence until you notice the time and you’re like,,,,,i loved meeting you but,,,,,,i have to go i have an essay due tomorrow for my contemporary art course,,,,,,,,

soonyoung’s like oh of course!! i’ll walk you back :))))))))

and you’re like you don’t have to,,,,,i know that you have things to do too

but he’s like nOnsense i’m walking you back. i’m not scared of jihoon

he says that but you can see him paling at the thought of lee jihoon and his guitar

he ends up walking you back to your dorms anyways and you’re like thank you,,,,,,,i’ll see you around?

but then he’s like wAiT i don’t have your number,,,,,,,,,,

you exchange numbers and when you get inside your room you’re like should i,,,,,,,,,send him a message?

ten minutes later you finally send him a simple “good luck with practice!”

and he sends you like 812357125 heart emojis back and you’re like ajhsdkglasdg he’s so intense,,,,,,but i like it,,,,,,,,,,,,

he starts sending you photos of him with the rest of seventeen or derp photos of his teammates and you’re like pftttt soonyoung you’re gonna get yourself killed one day

you get a series of photos one day

the first one is soonyoung holding a sharpie in his hand with jihoon sleeping in the background

the second one is jihoon’s sleeping face covered in drawings (rip his soulmate,,,,,,)

the third one is soonyoung taking a selfie with jihoon who’s eyes are opened,,,,,,,rip kwon soonyoung 1996-2017,,,,,,,,,,

you open the fourth one and it’s a picture of vernon with his hands up in a peace sign

and in the background is your soulmate being sat on by an extremely angry jihoon who’s gotten hold of the sharpie

you instantly call him like nOOoooOo doN’t DrAW ON HIM JIHOON PLS I HAVE AN INTERVIEW IN TEN MINUTES,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

jihoon let him off that time (“only because i like your soulmate better” “whAT do you mean jihoon we’re TEAMMATES. I’VE SEEN YOU IN THE SHOWER” “that’s,,,,,,,disgusting,,,,,,,,,”) but soonyoung left that fight with more than a few bruises

you’ve stopped getting frustrated with your drawings and soonyoung thinks it’s because you’ve started to become more comfortable with it but in all honesty it’s because you’re really drawing for him,,,,,,,,shhh don’t tell him that he’ll never let you live if he finds out

[creator-zee]

1

    I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling. My laptop was next to me open to an empty word document that needed to have a rough draft on it by Friday. I lay in a stupor for a while until I jumped up when I heard the door the my dorm open. I knocked my laptop of the bed and let out a string of curses under my breath as I leaned over the bed to grab it. Rex snickered from the back of my mind and I mentally chastised him as I straightened and made my way to the entry room

     A tall girl (who added to her already considerable height with a pair of black leather boots) stood in the entry way with two suitcases and a back pack looked slightly confused. I took note of the cross necklace and “god is life” pin on her back pack and internally groaned to Rex. ‘Great of course my roommate would be some church girl. And a tall one at that. I’m the one bonded to a demon but yet she towers over me. What use is a deal with a demon if some bible girl is still taller then me?’

     Rex mumbles some reply but I don’t pay attention as the girl finally seemed to notice me. Her eyes went straight to my right arm which had a black demon mark from the shoulder to wrist. She scoffed “Of course I get stuck with the roommate with a demon mark.”

     My brain raced to come up with a believable excuse how did she recognize the mark. “Just because I choose to express myself through ink on my skin doesn’t mean my tattoo is a ‘devil mark.’”

     She stared blankly at me. “I said demon mark not devil mark but whatever.”

    I decided instead of defense to go on the offense at least get her off my back so I could do my English homework. “Either way bible girl, my body, my life, my choices. Just because I don’t choose to worship an imaginary deities some ancient dudes supposedly met doesn’t mean I’m evil.”

    The girl paused, biting back a retort, and exhaled one kind slow breath before starting. “Look I don’t want to argue with each other. Let’s just ignore each other unless we need something. I’ll stay on my side you stay on yours. My name’s Rachel if you need to talk to me demon girl.”

    I shrugged. I didn’t really want to get in a fight with bible girl... Rachel... if I could avoid it. After a quick confirmation from Rex I replied simply with my name, “Lily,” before turning and going back in my room to continue staring at my blank laptop.

     I didn’t have another encounter with bible girl until a week later when my thought process was interrupted by a series of short knocks on my door. I paused before deciding I couldn’t just ignore it and got up to open the door. Sure enough bible girl is standing outside looking slightly nervous. I lean against the doorway and raise an eyebrow. “What.” I see no need for niceties.

    She fiddles absentmindedly with that cross before droning, “Look demon girl I figured I should ask you if it’s okay if I had a few friends over.”

      I shrug “Not like I care bible girl. Just don’t get to wild.” Rex snorts in my head ‘like that should be a problem. Look at her, bet she hasn’t had wine outside of church.’

     She scowls. “I told my name’s Rachel stop calling me that. Besides what do you care? Need peace and quiet to go smoke your pot in your room?”

      I mentally restrain myself. I can’t incinerate my roommate as much as I want to. The paperwork would be a hassle. “Uh, no. I need to write an essay; my final draft is due tomorrow.” She turns to leave and I add, “and I will stop calling you bible girl if you stop calling me demon girl, bible girl.” I hear her stammering some response but turn around and shut my door. I really need to work on my essay.

     Several hours later I’m reading through my essay again much to the complaint of Rex who claims “all the stupid English words look the same at this point and I should just stop.” In favor of coffee ,which require me getting up, I use a simple spell to keep myself awake and Rex complains ‘this is not the intended purpose of demon magic. I did not make a contract with you so you could use my magic for homework.’ I wave my hand in the air brushing him off. ‘Whatever, I let you have fun on the weekends or did you forget how we pay for this ‘crappy human crap.’’ Rex groans in response and I meant ally laugh before continuing to work. Halfway through, I hear a loud crash from outside my room. I ignore it and keep reading. I’m sure bible girl can figure it out she is a giant after all. But a few seconds later another crash shakes the walls. Rex is still sulking so I don’t have to worry about him but my curiosity is still very much present. After sitting for a little bit I save my work close the lid of the laptop and exit my room.

     Outside my room is chaos. The entryway is littered with shoes and coats tossed randomly everywhere. I thought church girls were supposed to be organized. I follow the sound of giggling girls to bible girl’s room. The door is cracked open and I peak in the see bible girl sitting in the floor while her two friends are draped over her bed laughing. Bible girl is loosely holding a bottle of champagne and a few other empty glass bottles are littered around the room. What happened to goody two shoes? Finally I spotted the source of the commotion: bible girls desk is upside down and another girl is laying spread-eagle on top of it like she fell. I turn to leave after all it’s not my problem, and I don’t feel like trying involved in this nonsense right now. 

     Unfortunately, bible girl spots me. She giggles drunkenly, “Hey demon girl. Mind giving us a hand?”

I ignore her continuing to walk away. 

     “Hey! She was talking to you bitch!” 

      One of bible girls friends has yelled at me from the bed. I turn slowly gritting my teeth using all my restrain from stopping my eyes from shifting into demon form like they do sometimes when I’m really angry. I really don’t like being insulted. 

     I spit out each word carefully. “Yes, I do mind, so clean up your own mess. Bitch.” Before I can hear their response and lose control I storm back to my room. Finally finished with my essay, I put my laptop away and sigh, time for some sleep. 

     Just as I’m about to drift off to sleep I feel my bed sink under someone’s weight. I lie very still and try to control my breathing opening my eyes slowly to see who it is. Fear leaves my body being replaced by anger as I see the tall form of bible girl.

     I whisper shout, not wanting to wake the whole dorm, “What the fuck are you doing?”

      Bible girl giggles. “Stealing a kiss from a demon.”

     I sigh, some thief. “Won’t you go to hell for that, bible girl?”

     She hiccups. “Maybe.”

     I sit up keep the drunken girl at arms length. ‘I should probably help her right? She’s so drunk.’ 

      Rex laughs. ‘Why? It’s her fault. I say dump her in her room and let her friends deal with her... or even better draw something on her face then give her back.’ 

      I glare as best I can at a demon in my mind. ‘No we’re not doing that.’

      I get up and drag the drunken girl out of bed forgetting I’m only in shorts and a large t-shirt.

      She giggles while stumbling after me, “Ooh the demon has some nice legs. Too bad you have that ugly demon mark, oh sorry tattoo, or you might actually be cute.”

      I ignored her and took her back to her room. It’s still a mess but her friends seem to have vanished. I lay her in bed and point. “Stay.” I return with a glass of water and hand it to her. “Drink.” She finishes it and I take it back. “Sleep.”

      She mumbles. “Fine bossy pants,” but lays down anyways. I return to leave a full glass of water on her night stand before retreating back to my room. Rex mumbles ‘and you call her goody two shoes.’

Being the genius I am I retort ‘oh just shut up.’

     I wake up to shouting in the next room. I squint and run my eyes who is bible girl in an argument with this early.

     “Ugh! Moooom I already told you I don’t want to date Bobby. I don’t care care that he’s handsome and sweet and a real gentleman...”

     Sounds like bible girls in trouble with her parents. 

     “... can’t I just focus on school while I’m in college... yes I know eventually you want me to get married and have kids but eventually isn’t right now... yes I promise... no I won’t fool around with girls anymore... no that’s not why I’m not dating any guys right now...”

     Off sounds like bible girl drew the short straw. Must suck being gay and religious. Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised after how she acted last night. 

      “... I already told you there’s no demons here... no I’m not sure... lots of people have tattoos okay mom... yeah I’ll be careful... yes I’ll call you if I found one. I really doubt a demon will be going to college though... love you... bye.”

     Oh great she knows demons exist, and that they can bond with humans in a demon mark. Just great. I bet her family are demon hunters too and use the power of christ in an honorable quest to rid demon scum from the earth. Not like demons can survive un-bonded on Earth anyways. They can only survive in hell.

     I glance at my clock. Shit! It’s already 7am I have to print my paper and get to class by 8am to turn it in and the library and my class are on opposite ends of campus. Guess I’m skipping breakfast. 

    Rex, being his oh so helpful self, suggests, ‘why don’t you just teleport?’

      I groan ‘because that won’t go badly at all.’

      ‘I don’t know what your talking about we only almost teleported inside a girl last time. It was fine.’

      ‘Right. Fine.’

    Luckily I only have morning classes today meaning I can return back to my bed after a quick snack from the cafeteria. 

     I shove the bagel  in my mouth as I fiddle with the keys to my dorm. As I get the door open and remove my keys I take the bagel out of my mouth only for it to be knocked out of my hand by bible girl who has pinned me up against the wall? What is going on? Anger and confusion night for control before I see the fallen bagel and anger takes over. Low on sleep on food I’m not in the right mind and I let my anger control me. My eyes turn black and my iris begins to glow a cyan blue.

     Bible girl whispers next to my ear. “Hah. Knew it. You are a fucking demon. Don’t worry I won’t tell. I like demons. They make such good fuck buddies.”

     My anger grows and I use my magic to bolster my strength. A cyan glow surrounds my arm in the rough shape of Rex’s demon form’s arms. Bible girl, though maybe I should just call her bitch since she certainly doesn’t act like much of a bible girl anymore, stands no chance against my magic and I slam her against a wall. 

     “Want to say that again?” I growl lowly. 

     She doesn’t look scared like she should instead she smiles. “Ooh, feisty I like it.”

     ‘I’ll show you feisty.’

     I start with a knee to the stomach causing her to double over. I bring her face down into my knee. Blood begins to soak my pants but I ignore it. In fact I’m invigorated by it. I let her go and she collapses to the ground. I kick her in the side. Hard. Repeatedly.

     “Please... stop...” I hear her whimper.

      I snap out of it. My eyes returning back to their normal brown color. I stare at the bruised bloody and beaten girl on the ground. What have I done?

      ‘What she deserved’ Rex states before retreating in my mind.

      I crouch down and feel for a pulse. It’s there. Thank god I didn’t kill her. I hurry to my room and grab my bandage kit that I use on myself on the weekends. Luckily, I don’t think I broke anything since I used my legs not my magically strengthened arms. But her nose is bleeding. If that doesn’t stop she could bleed to death. I sit her up despite her groans and tilt her head forwards pinching the bridge of her nose until the blood flow stops. Then I assess the damage her clothes are probably ruined, stained with blood. The floor luckily is wood and should hopefully clean up fine. I help bible gir- no Rachel to her room and tell her to change into new clothes and I will try to wash those. While she’s changing, I clean the floor. I toss the bagel in the garbage and the towel in the sink. I’ll wash it with Rachel’s clothes when I get them from her.

     As I wait outside Rachel’s room I wonder how I’m going to fix this. Rachel’s obviously going to tell someone after I beat the shot out of her. Man... I’m so screwed. L is going to kill me if he as to move his operation because I got mad over a bagel.

     Rachel hands me her clothes holding them as far away from herself as she can. When I reach for them she flinches back and I sigh. I really messed up. I sit against the wall as I wait for the clothes and towel to dry.

     Several hours later Rachel leaves her room and towers confidently over me. “You know I could call my parents. One word and they’d be here in an instant to exorcise your sorry ass.” She holds her phone in one hand fingering it gently to call attention to it. She pauses, staring me down. “But... I suppose I could keep it a secret and this,” she gestures to her nose, “a secret. If... only if you do what I say.”

     I nod slowly. Unfortunately, I don’t have many other options and I think she knows that.

     Rachel grins evilly. “Great! I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

      I think I’m going to start calling her bitch. 

     Bitch comes into my room later (without knocking) and plops down on my bed, where I’m sitting. I pull my knees up to my chest away from her. She’s currently sporting a black eye and probably several other bruises under her, admittedly stylish, outfit. 

     “What’s a demon like you doing in college?” When I don’t respond right away she pulls out her phone and pretends to start dialing.

     “Fine. Whatever. I’m just here to get my medical license.”

     “Really? Why would a demon want to be a doctor?”

     “Why does anyone want to be a doctor?” I retort. “And don’t you know I’m not a demon. I’m still human just bonded with a demon.”

     Bitch laughs hollowly. “Of course I know that. Blonde, not dumb. Saying human bonded to demon is just such a mouthful we just refer to people like you as demons. Obviously, real demons can’t survive in this realm.” She pauses for a while just looking at me. Normally I don’t care about what people think about me but I shrink from her gaze. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because she tried to seduce me or maybe because I beat her up or maybe because she know has control over my life.

     She suddenly grabs my right arm. I resist at first but she glares and I let her grab it. He runs her arms up and down I try to resist flinching at her touch. As she pushes the specs of my t-shirt over my shoulder she mutters, “You know you can learn a lot about a demon from its mark.”

     I did actually know that and knew what to look for in other demon marks to gauge power, strength, and specialties. The ability to read my opponents tends to come in handy in the ring. She yanked on my arm pulling it closer to her face. Reluctantly, I let her.

     “You must be bonded with a particularly powerful demon since your mark covers your whole arm.”

     I don’t reply hoping she won’t uncover anymore info about me or Rex.

     “Unfortunately, I never learned how to read demon marks, thought it was useless. But, I have an uncle I bet would be willing to teach me. Just you wait demon I will know all your secrets soon enough.”

     With that foreboding statement she dropped my arm and left the room. I pulled my arm back to me, pulling my sleeve back down. Maybe I’ll start wearing long sleeves.