#i bet they have nice cold bedrooms and work in an air conditioned office

[honestmouse20]

i hate summer so much yall

it's already 80 during the day here and my ac doesnt work. Everyone telling me they love the summer is wrong and crazy. come back and tell me you love the summer when your bedroom is 80 degrees at 4am.

I usually sleep prety well these days but tonight i can't seem to stay asleep, even with my fan on and pointed right at me. The ac is on too, set at 65 but the themomerter in my room says otherwise. we've been texting the landord Repeatedly. The Ac repair man never calls

[katsukikitten]

Part 5

For once in your life, your eyes slowly open, only having been disturbed by warm morning sunlight. The soft comforter trapping your body heat and essentially you, as it pinned you to the soft mattress. You snuggle deeper into the sheets, breathing in the smell of clean linen and caramel.

Wait. Caramel?

With a jolt you jump from the bed, eyes wide as you look for the source of the scent. Patting down your jeans and shirt for at least one knife. You hardly remember what happened after dinner with his family. You remember booze, light conversation while feeling warm and floaty. Oh shit what was that passive that activated again? Rest assured?

"Info on rest assured." You grumble, voice soft from disuse. Your quirk happily pulls up a little informational box that you can see. Too sleepy to make the box private as it reads aloud to you.

"PASSIVE BUFF REST ASSURED. A newly unlocked buff that increases sleep quality and can only be activated around trusted individuals and safe places. Would you like a list?"

You stare at the question box with a flashing yes or no before you point with the tip of your knife to yes.

"Currently there is only one thing listed. Type : Individual Name: Bakugou Ka…."

"Oi." Someone calls from the front door of the apartment as you dismiss the information with a wave of your hand. He discards his boots at the door before making his way to his bedroom.

"You talking to yourself dumbass?" He says, blocking your only exit by leaning on the door jamb. He holds an iced coffee towards you, his eyes sharp as he adds.

"We need to talk about your file."

Crossing his arms you ignore his offer of iced appeasement, he sets it on the low dresser as you speak.

"It's not up for discussion."

"I'm your boss, I deserve to know."

"What you deserve to know is what's in that file. My whole life doesn't fit into a manila fucking folder. Quit asking questions."

"I'll ask what I want." He growls, "Because it's suspicious that you have this unbelievably complex quirk and yet I'm sure your top skills have nothing to do with stealing."

"If you're that concerned then ask the director of the program. I'm not the only secret 'reform'." You throw your hands into the air is exasperation

"He showed up dead shortly after you were inducted. Plus no one has any real record of what you've done. Not a single thing listed on what you've stolen."

"Talk to Deku then, he's next in line for that program, he ain't dead."

"He said he doesn't remember approving your file." He bites back and before you can retort strong fingers wrap around your wrist. His calloused pads brush over the cool metal of your bracelet.

"RECOGNIZED, BAKUGOU KATSUKI : NEW LIMITED ACCESS GRANTED. 1. Health and Condition status, upon request 2. Top five skills 3. Buffs that would benefit Bakugou Katuski. 4. Pending buffs to be activated by host. Please state a number."

"Two." "Cancel!" You try to shout over him but he beats you to it. The bracelet opens up a little box displaying your top five skills as of late.

"Stab resistance, poison resistance, what would a thief need those for? Stealth is number three and slight of hand is number five. Shit don't add up Princess." He glares while your nostrils flare, ripping your wrist away from his grip.

"You're really fucking pushing it…" He takes a step towards you while you step back as if it were part of a dance as you try so hard to keep your wrath in check.

"Am I? Like I said, shit ain't adding up. You have this bracelet that still has limited information to your quirk, support knows nothing of the recordings or god damn blocks you've placed on it and lastly…" Your knees hit the back of the back of the bed causing you to sit on the mattress. His rough palms come to lie flat against the fabric next to your thighs as he leans in. You fight to shrink back.

"Lastly, I deserve to know how an unnamed woman, who obviously knew you, turns up dead moments after I arrive on scene and then her body is gone in a matter of minutes. She poisoned you with a complex concoction that the lab in the agency has yet to figure out the formula to it and yet you knew the fucking antidote? What did you really do?"

Rage boils in your blood as you stare into his vermilion eyes. Like flipping a switch you turn ice cold, your breath mingles with his.

PASSIVE BUFF SHARP TONGUE ACTIVATED INSULTS DEALT WILL HAVE 39% MORE STING.

"You know what's funny? You don't see me asking how you became a manager with your shitty attitude. Nor do you see me asking how you manipulated and gaslit your way to the number one spot." You press your cheek against his as your lips graze his ear, "And you sure as hell don't see me asking how you're considered a hero at all after you told Izuku to kill himself in middle school."

The scars in his chest and stomach roar to life, demanding attention as his shirt scrapes against the sensitive skin. He takes a step back as if struck while the room begins to smell of smokey spiced caramel. His bones groan as his knuckles bloom white.

You smile as you stand, collecting your bag and the jacket he lent. Even grabbing the iced coffee he got you. Because why let it go to waste?

Cruelty slips onto your shoulders as nicely as his borrowed jacket while you pause at his bedroom door wanting nothing more than to leave him with terrible thoughts.

"Did you ever even apologize for that?"

Silence is your answer as you chuckle to yourself.

"Didn't think so."

You leave him with those nasty thoughts. Long gone as he still pants, pain shooting through his gut and lungs as it did all those fucking years ago.

As he moved without a second thought and placed himself in front of a stupid, dopey mop top boy who tried to hold up the weight of the world by himself.

With a guttural growl he looks over his destroyed room, as if a bomb went off.

He reaches for his phone dialing the number he never bothered to save.

"Meet me at our usual when you get off your stupid fucking shift. I know you've forgotten to eat you useless hero." The other line chimes in with a deep laugh as he adds.

"Okay Kaachan. I'll be there."

Izuku doesn't get invited out often and especially not by Bakugou. So the emerald haired boy decides to keep an eye on his oldest friend. Silently watching and not glancing too long as hot head huffs and puffs, taking another shot. The ash blonde's favorite spicy ramen goes untouched as the large man across from him slurps up his fourth bowl, covered in sweat and dirt from the day's work.

"You better get my fucking money's worth of this endless ramen bowl shit." He bites, slamming down another shot, fingers subconsciously finding the old scar on his chest. The action does not go unnoticed by his more docile friend. Izuku thanks the waiter as he starts on his fifth bowl.

"I'm starting to think you're mad about more than the endless ramen you ordered me." Bright emerald meet dark garnet eyes that glare, Bakugou's cheeks burn in his buzz.

"Fuck you. Nothin's wrong." Another deadly shot.

"That's your seventh. Kaachan you can't fool me. Your body language gives it away." Bakugou follows Izuku's eyes to his fingers. Quickly he removes his calloused pads from the divot. Angrily staring at the wall like a child who's been caught.

"Fuck you." He murmurs, silence settles over the pair in the far back corner of the restaurant. Bakugou's eyes glance over to Izuku who continues to eat, crimson bore into the scars on his arms from where the dumbass had broken them time and time again. His scars burn with your words, with the memory of what he's said in the past.

Too cruel and for what?

"You know I'm-" Bakugou starts but Izuku holds up a hand, wanting to spare his friend.

"I know, you've shown me everyday, even before you jumped in front of me, Kaachan. I've always known." He leaves it at that, in his heart he knows that Bakugou is sorry. He's seen it in every action since their first year at UA, he doesn't need to hear him say it.

What good are words when actions spoke louder?

"So what's bothering you? Worried over someone? You're dating Rogue now right?" Izuku asks, holding his chopsticks at a point while Bakugou takes another shot.

"Her file is what's bothering me. Deku, she doesn't have a fucking thing of her past. Not to mention you don't even remember signing off on her. Real responsible." Bakugou watches with a dull snarl as Izuku goes back to slurping his noodles.

"Ka...Kaachan." Izuku chokes, "Not fair. They put a lot of your desk too and I bet you don't remember half of it."

"I'd remember something like that. Just makes it that much more suspicious. Probably foraged by someone but the question is who…." Katsuki sets his head in his hand, staring at his orange broth.

"Well, did you ask her yourself?" Bakugou scoffs in response.

"Yea, and it didn't fucking turn out well." His finger finds his stomach this time, the ghastly white crater suddenly irritated by the fabric of his shirt. Izuku stops eating, he isn't stupid and easily connects the dots. The soft man thinks back a decade of his friend is the worst condition but more worried about him.

"Kaachan…" Deep jade eyes water a bit but Bakugou puts up a hand

"Don't." He barks, sighing.

"So you must really care about her if whatever she said affected you that much. You weren't even bothered when they were trying to 'cancel' you." Izuku taps Bakugou's bowl with his chopsticks, silently begging the blonde to eat. Hopping he'll take at least a bite to soak up some of that alcohol. Reluctantly deadly fingers pick up the sticks, gathering ramen between them but still undecided if he should eat.

His silence is answer enough for Izuku.

"I know my agency started the program. I'll look into it some more tomorrow. I'll be mostly office duty since I have so much paperwork anyway. But even if her past is dark Katsuki, what are you going to do? She may not have had any say in the matter, she doesn't give me that evil vibe."

Bakugou thinks back to you. How you fight, how you hold yourself.

How cute you were sleeping on his shoulder before he eased you onto his lap. How softly you snored in his bed. His stomach twists, Izuku's words and yours floating around his head.

"I guess I'll decide once I have more answers." With that the blonde decides to bring the spicy noodles to his lips.

[mandelene]

For the hurt/comfort prompts, the collapse into someone’s waiting arms? I can’t find the symbol sorry. Arthur faints maybe? Have fun with it 💖

Thank you for the ask! A few of you actually asked for the collapsing into someone's arms one, haha, so expect to see it a couple of times with different characters. 😅 Soft Landing Word Count: 1047

“Bloodwork and urinalysis for room three, please,” Arthur tells the medical assistant as he’s leaving an exam room and entering the hallway. Has it always been this stuffy in here or is something wrong with the thermostat again? “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”

The medical assistant lifts a brow at him. “I think it's fine…Are you okay? You’re flushed.”

Arthur loosens his tie and takes his white coat off, hoping that’ll help. “I’ve been running around all morning, so I suspect that’s it,” he assures before turning away and walking back to his office to sit down for a moment. He takes a few sips of water from the reusable bottle on his desk and wipes some sweat off his brow. Perhaps he’s a bit dehydrated. He can’t remember having had much to drink today. That must be it. He’ll be fine.

Back to work.

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

“Arthur? Where are you? It’s already after seven o’clock and dinner is cold.”

“There was an emergency, and I had to see a patient in the hospital, but I’m on my way home now. I’ll be there in ten minutes. I know you can’t bear to be without my company for this long, but never fear, I will grace you with my presence soon.”

He can picture Francis rolling his eyes. “I’ll bet you haven’t eaten all day.”

Not true. He had a small bag of trail mix in the afternoon, and there was that banana he had for breakfast, but that’s about it. “Don’t worry so much – you’ll get those wrinkles you’ve been so concerned about.”

“There’s always Botox.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“So are you. See you soon,” Francis huffs before ending the phone call.

Arthur turns up the air conditioning in the car and tries to focus on the road. He feels like he’s close to melting – why is it so damned hot today? A cold shower will do him good.

A sigh of relief escapes him when he finally pulls up to the house and parks in the driveway. He cuts the engine, unbuttons the top two buttons of his dress shirt and gets out of the car, vision swimming for a moment before it clears. That’s odd…He feels a bit lightheaded.

He locks the car and heads for the front door, feeling his heart rate pick up its pace. He just needs to lie down and will be fine. It’s nothing.

He fishes for his keys in his bag and when it takes him longer than three seconds to find them, he decides to ring the bell instead, hoping Francis will let him in.

Instead, Alfred opens the door with a wide grin. “Hey, Dad! You’re laaaate!”

“Hello, Alfred. Something came up at work,” he explains, letting himself in. He puts his messenger bag down and reaches down to take off his shoes, but that’s when dark clouds appear in front of his eyes and he has to brace himself on the wall to steady himself.

“Whoa, you okay? Papa, help!” Alfred shouts, and Arthur suddenly feels clammy all over.

His ears begin to ring, the dark clouds overtake his vision, and he pitches forward against his will, losing control of his body. His eyes snap shut. He waits to hit the ground but never does. Instead, he has a soft landing into someone’s arms.

“Arthur! Mon Dieu!”

After a few seconds of wooziness, Arthur opens his eyes and lets out a small groan. “Francis?”

“My goodness, Arthur. Are you all right? Can you walk? Come on,” Francis instructs, wrapping an arm around his waist and guiding him toward their master bedroom. “Nice and slow…”

When they reach their bed, Francis helps him lie down, and Arthur feels his senses return to him. His clinical mind takes over, and he brings his knees up to his chest, knowing this will help his circulation. He should have foreseen this. He hasn’t been himself all day…

“Better?”

“Yes. Sorry…I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Arthur says, a bit stunned. He hasn’t fainted since he was a young boy.

“I’ll bring you some juice and the blood pressure monitor. That’s what you would do, right?”

So, Francis has learned something over the course of their marriage after all.

“Yes, thank you. And the glucose meter, too.”

“Okay. Don’t move, mon cher. I’ll be right back.”

He can hear Alfred and Matthew fretting over him on the other side of the bedroom door.

“Is Dad okay? Is he sick?” Alfred asks.

Matthew, the only one who didn’t witness the scene, tries to confirm the details. “Did he really faint?”

“He briefly fainted. He’s resting now. I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’ll let you boys know if I need any help,” Francis placates them, and Arthur hears his footsteps fade as he heads for the kitchen.

Well, he supposes it’s better to have fainted at home rather than at his office.

When Francis returns with the supplies, Arthur wraps the blood pressure cuff around his arm and turns on the machine. The cuff inflates automatically and then deflates several seconds later, giving him a reading. Eighty-four over fifty-six. Too low. He then pricks his finger with a lancet and checks his blood sugar with the glucometer…Sixty-five—also too low.

He drinks the grape juice Francis brought him and says, “I hate to admit it, but it seems your initial assessment was right, Francis. I haven’t had enough to eat.”

“I told you! You’re going to dig yourself into an early grave, Arthur! I’ll bring you dinner and more juice. You had better finish it all or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight because I won’t be able to bear looking at you!” Francis lectures him, and Arthur tries his best to suppress a small laugh. He didn’t mean to worry him so much. “If you eat and drink, you’re going to be fine, right? And be honest!”

“Yes, I should be fine. I promise.”

“You’re paying for the Botox I’m going to need because of the wrinkles you’ve given me! Mark my words!”

At that, he can’t contain his laughter any longer. “I love you, you narcissistic frog.”

“I love you, too, idiot. I’ll bring you dinner in bed.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re not welcome.”

[virmillion]

Ibytm - T minus 45 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 3,576

On a normal day, Logan will rise long before the sun, smiling at the sound of his pinging alarm clock and taking a luxurious moment to stretch his rested limbs before greeting the world with open arms.

Today is not a normal day.

His eyes stay stubbornly shut as his tingling hand fumbles around in the mess of blankets for his blaring phone. Virgil grunts softly from somewhere under the mound, and in the weak pre-dawn light, Logan can only just make out the ball curled up under the sheets.

When his fingers finally brush over his phone, sending shivers down his spine with the vibrations, he does his best impression of scrambling to turn it off. His sleep-addled body translates this command as wobbly sliding around for the snooze button, stubbornly ignoring the requirement to finish a set of math problems before the noise will stop.

“Should’ve never installed that fancy alarmy app,” Virgil grumbles as the ball shrinks in on itself. Logan squints at the full-brightness screen and scowls, mumbling the two digit multiplication problems to himself. Finally he succeeds, dropping the bedroom back into silence. An arm snakes out from the blankets and pats along Logan’s leg. “Good job, so smart. Go crush that meeting.”

Logan lifts Virgil’s jand and presses a kiss to his fingers, lingering in the moment for just a few more seconds. His own hand feels impossibly cold and empty as he changes and strides out of the room.

The kitchen—more of a kitchenette, really, but who’s keeping track?—is surprisingly high quality, given the deal Virgil managed to land on this place. Granted, it’s all a little cramped and bland, but Logan likes to think of it as ‘begging for an impromptu remodel.’ Which he manages to pull off, all in one go, as the broken keurig sputters to life, shooting wads of coffee grounds along the underside of the microwave.

Logan does not have the energy for it this morning.

He sets on a pot of real coffee to brew in time for Virgil to wake up and transfers the keurig disaster to his own travel mug, slipping in more sugar than it probably needs. He’s in for a long day.

Even the neighborhood is pretty nice, which was Virgil’s main concern when they were scoping out options. Compared to the people on those over-the-top reality shows, Logan thinks their requests were pretty darn reasonable. Close enough to the office to walk, in a nice part of town, and close enough to uber to the museum without completely punching a hole through their wallets. One downside to being so near to the office, though, is that Logan can never be that far from work. Not that this is a bad thing, per se—it’s just that, on the two days a year where he actually wants a break, he has to try that much harder to actually achieve it.

There are worse problems in the world to have, he supposes.

His work building looms tall and grey against the cold morning skyline, and the mere sight of it is enough to make him draw his shoulders to his ears. While he’s dressed nice enough for the meeting that could make or break his future, Virgil convinced him to wear the leather jacket over it.

“It’ll make you feel tough,” Virgil insisted, shoving the bundle of well-worn material into Logan’s arms the previous night. “Just enough of a confidence boost for you to nail the crap out of that meeting.”

Virgil wasn’t wrong, of course. Logan finds a certain bounce in his step as he bursts into the stale air conditioning and starts up the stairs. More of a placebo effect than anything else, but he’ll take what he can get. Especially today.

“Hey, Lo!” Micah exclaims, stumbling over his own feet as he bounds down the stairs.

“Gan. Logan,” Logan supplies, reaching out a hand to steady the overstuffed cardboard box in Micah’s arms. “Last trip?”

“Yeah, Alex is gonna bring home stuff I forgot as they find it. Half their desk is mine, basically.” Micah shoulders the drawstring bag around his back to the side, squeezing past Logan to get to the first floor landing. “It’s been a pretty solid run, though. Almost four years? That’s a good record for our floor managing to not kill each other.”

“That it is,” Logan agrees, almost to the next landing by now. It's a shame to see a good guy like Micah go, but internships aren’t permanent, and promotions aren’t guaranteed.

“Hey, wait!” Micah calls. Logan peeks over the spiral railing, now well on his way to the third floor. “Isn’t your big hunga chunga interview today?”

“Yeah, it is, actually. I don’t know when, though.”

“Well, whatever time they come for ya, best of luck. You deserve it.” Micah grins at Logan before scooting out of the stairwell, staggering under his box. Logan smiles to himself, forgetting to remove the expression before he exits onto the fifth floor. The first step in what could very well be a long line of mistakes.

“What’re you so happy about, specs?” Roman asks, appearing at Logan’s side and following him to his desk. “The only times I’ve seen you smile are when you’re with that museum guy.”

Logan takes a moment to breathe, reminding himself that it’s typically frowned upon to sock your coworkers in the jaw. “As I’ve told you several times now, his name is Virgil, and he’s not just some guy, he’s my boyfriend. There years not long enough for you to process that?”

“In my defense, we don’t hang out enough to be familiar.”

“We had lunch with you and Patton last week!”

“Yeah, yeah, bad short term memory.”

“Long term memory.” Logan slides open the third drawer on the right of his desk and pulls out a thick binder, filled to the brim and then some with papers and folders and cascading tab dividers. “Do you want to go to your own desk now?”

“Not really.” Regardless, Roman swings around to the desk that used to be Micah’s—with the intern moving on after more than four years of work, his prime spot desk was highly coveted real estate. The only reason Logan didn’t get it—by seniority, he had first dibs—was because he was used to his current desk. Not to mention the meeting coming up, of course. Ideally, he won’t even need his current desk after today.

Roman pops his head over the partition between Micah’s old desk and Logan’s, undoubtedly standing on the swivel chair for a better vantage point. “So, whatcha doin’?”

“Get off that chair before you hurt yourself. I’m going over major old assignments.” Logan regrets being honest the moment he says it. Now it’s a near guarantee that Roman will try to distract him. He was undoubtedly going to already, but still.

“Oh, right, you’ve got that huge meeting today! I completely forgot.” Roman folds his arms up over his chin, staying shockingly quiet as Logan riffles through the binder. “Hey, wait, that’s that dumb Neptune Theseus riddle!”

“Never did figure that one out,” Logan agrees absently. His eyes linger on the answer circled at the bottom, but he still isn’t convinced he had it right. He pulls the paper out farther.

“We’re seriously gonna get stuck on the Neptune thing again? Are we really digging up that horse to beat it some more? Hasn’t it suffered enough?” Alex groans, rolling over on their squeaky desk chair. While the office sprang for new furniture last year, they didn’t spring very far, since ‘gently used furniture from someone else is still new to you.’ This was met with no small amount of grumbles and dissent, all of which fell on deaf ears.

“No rehashing old riddles!” Cassidy chimes in. As her desk is now right beside Logan’s—replacing Joy’s old spot—she doesn’t have to move far to notice his overfilled binder. “Last minute studying?”

“Lil’ Lolo has his big ol’ test today,” Alex singsongs. “Watch him get higher than Mx. Oatmeal.”

“As if,” Logan scoffs, flipping to a different assignment. Calculating the landing point of a rocket being pulled down from orbit at a given time, assuming this malfunction and that overcorrection. He still isn’t completely convinced they didn’t just rip the problem wholesale from Hidden Figures. “And it’s not a test, it’s just a meeting to discuss my upward prospects. Don’t oversell it.”

“I promise nothing of the sort,” Cassidy says. “How much you wanna bet the promotion hinges on that Neptune riddle?”

“Gambling, I like it.” Roman reaches down the partition to snatch up the binder, ignoring Logan’s protests. “Woah, you’ve got things in here from your first week? You know that was all busy work, right? To scare off newbies who wouldn’t put in the work when it counted?”

“Give that back,” Logan demands, reaching toward Roman’s face. He easily holds the binder out of reach, still snooping through its contents.

“Wow, your handwriting really sucks, you know that?”

“Shut up, my mind moves too fast to bother with legibility.” It’s all Logan can do not to stand on his chair and grab back the binder. He’s smart, of course—there’s nothing incriminating on those pages—but he still doesn’t appreciate Roman invading his space like this.

“Illegible handwriting?” Alex repeats. “Sounds like you’re already one of them. Bet you’ll even surpass Joy.” The mention of her name draws the attention of some of the newer interns, whose names Logan hasn’t yet managed (or bothered) to learn. It wasn’t too long ago that Joy got promoted—in the last few months, actually—but she was still on the floor long enough to gain a reputation among the newbies. Her sudden promotion, completely unprompted, elevated her to a godlike status in the eyes of the new kids, all fresh to the inner workings of the program. At least, that’s why Logan assumes they looked up at her name.

He isn’t sure whether he’d love it or hate it if all these little interns would worship him like that.

Before Roman can pitch in his own two cents about the first inexplicable promotion situation, the elevator doors ping open, revealing Joy leaning against the mirrored wall. Cassidy leaps to her feet and sprints across the floor, wrapping her friend in a tight hug.

“You need to come visit us more,” Cassidy says sternly, pushing Joy back by the shoulders to fix her with a pinched stare.

“Acknowledged,” Joy says, barely lifting her chin. The cold silence lasts only a few moments before her facade cracks, revealing a bright smile as she squeezes Cassidy in a close embrace. “Butterfingers around here?”

Logan scrambles to yank his binder back from Roman and hide it in its usual drawer before answering, “I’m over here.”

Joy nods brightly as Cassidy carefully extricates herself from the boa constrictor hug. “Well, better get going, if you’re ready. They bumped the meeting from seventh to ninth, by the way.” She waits patiently for Logan to join her in the elevator, seeming to not notice the awed stares from the newbies. Logan isn’t particularly fond of the sustained silences from his more seasoned coworkers, either.

“Actually, I’d rather take the stairs, if it’s all the same to you.” Though Logan has historically taken the stairs for the exercise, he has a running promise with Virgil to avoid the elevator whenever possible. Virgil refused to specify why, but even if he’d never find out, Logan has no intention to go breaking promises when people aren’t looking. “I’ll just meet you up there?”

Joy hesitates, and Logan wonders whether he just completely screwed himself over, but her expression finally dissolves back into a grin. “Works for me.”

Logan takes the stairs two at a time, chased by the encouragement of his floormates. With every step, he jumps from one irrational worry to another. What if Joy thinks he thinks she stinks? What if she thinks he’s being uncooperative? What if she thinks he’s claustrophobic, and won’t be able to handle something so confined as a rocket? What if this is all a test, and he already failed?

He almost misses the ninth landing as his thoughts swarm. All that piloting time, straight down the drain.

The door can’t open fast enough.

Logan has just barely managed to force his breathing down to a normal level when the elevator door slides open, revealing Joy and—oh, great.

“She said I should come along!” Roman exclaims, bursting out of the elevator and jumping to Logan’s side. “That they might like a second opinion during your meeting.”

“Oh, great.”

“Yes, well, best be going,” Joy says, leading the boys down the hall to a set of floor to ceiling glass windows. Just beyond the frames is a long oak desk, ringed with cushy black office chairs. Logan wonders how many years it'll be until those become hand-me-downs for the fifth floor.

“I’m so excited,” Roman whisper-shouts. “I’ve never been up here before, besides for coffee runs.”

“This is where I leave you,” Joy says. She holds open the door and waves the boys in, patting Logan on the shoulder as he passes. “Good luck. You’re gonna crush it.”

“Fingers crossed.”

“Butterfingers?”

“Almond Joy.” A small smile spreads across Logan’s face as the door softly clicks shut behind them. Across the room is Mx. Oatmeal’s boss’s boss’s boss, Miss Katie-Lee, who literally and figuratively holds Logan’s future in her hands.

That is to say, she’s holding a model rocketship.

“Logan, please, have a seat.” She gestures to one of the several chairs, inclining her head slightly as Logan shakes her hand before sitting. “Oh, good, Roman, are you the second opinion I asked Joy to bring?”

“I am indeed,” Roman confirms, shaking her hand as well before sitting on Logan’s right. “Happy to be here, happy to help.”

“Happy to hear it,” Miss Katie-Lee says, taking her own seat opposite the boys. She pulls a stack of papers and folders from a nearby stool and spreads them out over the table. “Well, well, well, Logan, you sure have been busy these last few years, haven’t you? And I see here you have a change of mailing address, as well as the supplementary switch forms, very good, that’s what we like to see.” Miss Katie-Lee traces her finger down a bulleted list, mumbling to herself as she does. “Tuh tuh tuh, already a good amount of calculations under your belt, mostly correct, that’s always nice. Well on your way to completing the piloting hours, good to know you’re keeping that up. Recent physical on file, yes, sure deal, that makes this several worlds easier.”

She continues talking to herself, flipping between pages and glancing at Logan every so often for a nod of confirmation. “And Roman, you’ve worked closely with Logan, yes? Do you have any pertinent information to share regarding his performance?” She taps a little plastic cube set to the side meaningfully. “This is all being recorded, by the way. My apologies for not saying so sooner.”

Roman sits up straighter in his chair, and Logan immediately wishes he were a popsicle under the California sun. Oh, to be a puddle on the floor, free of the trials and tribulations involved in adult life.

“All on the record?”

“All on the record.”

Roman gives Logan a long look before opening his mouth again. Puddles would be a blessing at this point, Logan thinks. Logan would be wrong. “Logan is the single best intern I have ever seen working on the fifth floor. He easily works twice as hard as anyone on a higher floor—no offense—and I never see him without ink staining his fingers. He’s organized down to having a color coding system with his pens based on the difficulty and priority of his work. He’s the first one into the office and the last one out, and all the time in between is time he spends doing the best he possibly can.”

Roman laughs a little, and Logan finally feels his muscles relax, just the slightest bit. “I literally had to personally convince everyone to show up half an hour early today so we could beat him to being early. Basically, Logan is just a guy who really, really cares about what he does. There’s no one else I’d rather see at the top of this field.” Roman hesitates, glancing at Miss Katie-Lee. “Oh, um, not that you aren’t already doing a great—”

Miss Katie-Lee waves it off with a smile. “Thank you, Roman, that was more than sufficient. You can head back down to the fifth floor now.” Logan is still somewhere between numb and frozen as he watches Roman excuse himself, still processing the parade of compliments. He’d always assumed Roman merely tolerated his presence, since it would make being floormates easier than if they hated each other. Huh.

Shuffling the papers back into a neat pile, Miss Katie-Lee switches her gaze from the closing door to Logan. “Can I tell you a secret?” Logan nods, dumbfounded. “I already knew all that.” Logan blinks. “I’ve heard your praises sung by everyone in this building, from Mx. Oatmeal to Joy, to Micah at his resignation, all the way to the janitorial staff. They go out of their way to compliment how much easier you make their jobs, sticking around late to clean up after your floormates. To tell the truth, we’ve wanted to get you up here for a long while, but we just haven’t had an opening. A few transfers, a few drops, and now we find ourselves here.” Miss Katie-Lee folds her hands on the table, leaning in closer. “We want to start training you on level with Mr. Jolenta’s work.” Mr. Jolenta. Mx. Oatmeal’s boss. Logan feels more than a little light headed. “You would see an increase in pay, to be determined at a later date, as well as an increase in workload and hours. On the right path and at the right pace, I think we can get you where you want to go.” Logan nods dumbly, not completely processing her words. “So, what do you say?”

A million things race through Logan’s mind, each slipping out of his hands like an ice cube into boiling water when he tries to grab it. More pay. More hours. Less time with Virgil. A chance at the stars. A chance to move up. Time away from Virgil. Time away from home. Time, time, time. Never enough to give, never enough to take.

“I’d be happy to give you some time to consider—”

“I’m in,” Logan interrupts. His mouth didn’t even wait for his mind to decide, much less his heart. He’ll have to learn to get that under control.

“Well, we’re happy to have you on board,” Miss Katie-Lee says, standing and brushing off the front of her shirt. Logan shakes her hand firmly, thanking her for the opportunity and accepting a spotless new folder from her. He pulls the door shut as he leaves, determined to wait until he reaches his desk before looking at the papers.

The determination does not last longer than two minutes.

New benefits, new hours, new responsibilities, new calculation basics, new new new. The words and numbers and symbols flit around Logan’s mind, a deafening roar that blocks out the curiosity of his fellow fifth floor interns.

Can he call them his fellow interns anymore? He’ll have to ask Roman about that.

“So how’d it go?” Cassidy demands, slamming her hands on his desk and getting uncomfortably close to his face. Logan glances at Roman, whose face flushes pink when they make eye contact. He drops behind the partition.

“Spill it,” Alex adds, leaning on Logan’s chair. “It’s not like we didn’t notice that fancy new folder, or that almost smile on your face.”

Cassidy somehow manages to get even closer, and it’s a wonder Logan doesn’t flinch. “Stop the presses, Alex, I think that might be a genuine smile there.”

“Great Scott, she’s right! It’s a real smile! This is one for the papers, folks!”

Logan rolls his eyes and shakes his head good-naturedly, careful to keep the folder pinched shut. “Miss Katie-Lee just offered me a promotion, and Roman helped back up my credibility a little bit. It’s nothing major, really.”

“How high’s the promotion?” Roman’s voice asks. He’s still hiding behind the partition.

Logan glances around, well aware of the newer interns listening closely while doing a terrible job of pretending not to. “It, um, it’s on par with Mr. Jolenta?” It’s not a question, but he manages to make it one, anyway.

The floor is silent for a moment, two, as his words sink in. Alex breaks the silence first.

“Dude, nice!” This call is echoed across the floor, several voices tripping over each other to congratulate Logan. He nods, wearing a small smile and picturing how Virgil’s face will look when he shares the news. Or, wait, no, he’s supposed to be teaching Virgil how to make fettuccine alfredo tonight. That should obviously take precedence.

Then again, a promotion is pretty big. So is getting to cook with his boyfriend. Maybe he’ll tell him over dinner. Just imagining the look on Virgil’s face when he tells him is more than enough to double the size of Logan’s smile.

[yoongiandchiminie]

Volcano (Bestfriend! Yoongi)

Drabble

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 1,052

Genre: Fluff, 

Summary: Yoongi’s your best friend and personal handyman. When he goes to American and your air conditioner breaks, he comes home only to laugh and... such.

Freedom felt nice. When you’d move into your apartment a few months ago, everything seemed fine. Other than when everything kept breaking around it. Luckily enough, your best friend was pretty handy with some tools. When your shower broke, he fixed it. When the pipe under your sink broke, he fixed it. Holes in the wall, he fixed it. You were clumsy and he was stoic about most things. For the laziest guy you knew, Yoongi was always up to save your ass when you were in trouble.

Then there was today. You’d taken him to the airport a few hours prior so he could go to America with his friends and upon your arrival home, you discovered your air conditioner was broken. To be more technical, it fell to the ground while you were gone. In your head, you blamed him first for probably slamming the door too many times with his heavy hands and breaking it. You didn’t have the heart to send him a text telling him what had happened because you didn’t want to imagine the face he’d make when he stepped off the plane to that message. You also didn’t quite have the money to get someone else to fix it, so there was only one thing to do; Live in a volcano for a week and a half.

For the first half, you had simply suffered and then you mustered up the courage to go into Yoongi’s house and steal his fan that he’d bought for 400 dollars at the start of this heat wave of a summer. He lived alone in that big house and it always boggled you how he didn’t die in the heat, especially with as many roommates as he had. As you were in the home, you contemplated moving in for the remainder of their vacation and simply living in the air conditioning. Knowing you though, they’d find out and you would never hear the end of it. They’d find some of your hair somewhere or you’d accidentally leave clothes around as you basked in the sweet, cold air and they’d know. The boys were idiots, but they were smartish.

After retrieving the fan, the heat wave got even worse and you were reduced to walking around your apartment almost naked whenever you were there. All of your friends were gone, so it wasn’t like it truly mattered. Your family never came by during the week and a half because the heat was so intense nobody wanted to be stuck in a car for hours. Sadly, the only time you left the house was for work and you were happy there, there was air conditioning. You even clocked in some overtime this week simply because you didn’t want to leave the office.

  Yoongi had told you that he’d be staying a few extra days in America and all you could do was feel like crying. He had no idea what you were going through as you laid in your house in a matching set of bra and panties, suffering.  Then the worst thing happened. Your door clattered open revealing a bit of a darker and pinker Yoongi decorated in American clothing standing in your open doorway.

“I’m home!” he announced and slammed the door behind him, “Holy shit, Y/N! Why are you waiting for me dressed like that? Holy shit, it’s hot. What the fuck did you do?” you sat up from your sprawled position on the couch and pulled your knees to your chest to cover yourself. His eyes locked on the air conditioner on the ground where it had fallen almost 2 weeks ago and he sighed. “My personal porn star and a job to do the day I get home… amazing.”

“What are you doing here? You asked, standing up with a pillow in front of you. When you reached his side the pillow even began to feel hot, so you just threw it back on the couch. He’d seen you like this before, whatever. “I also didn’t want to ruin America, how was it superstar?” He chuckled at his favorite nickname you gave him. “I figured I’d stay with you for a bit since I was with those guys for a straight while. Gotta have priorities.” he smiled and reached down to hug you.

“Oh, it’s too hot for hugs.” you groaned as Yoongi twirled you and lifted you to him. He loved holding you and it was always weird. “Please, just fix the air conditioner and put me down before my sweat seeps into your clothes.” he kissed the top of my head and listened, immediately getting to work on the fallen thing.

If you’d ever watched him while he worked on things around your apartment, your life would probably be easier. You wouldn’t have to call him whenever there was a problem and you could just fix your own things. However, you were coming to terms with the fact that he kind of liked this. Yoongi liked feeling needed by you. As much as it pained his poor lazy soul.

It was finished within minutes and you couldn’t help but cry out in happiness. You jumped back into his open arms and he held you for a good minute, running his hands through your hair. “You’re always my hero, Yoongi.” you smiled up at him.

He looked down and licked his lips, causing you to laugh. “Wow, you look fucking hot right now. Pressed up against me…”

“Oh, shut up. You just went to America and I bet you saw even better things than me in my volcano in-”

“Lingerie.”

“This isn’t lingerie.”

You felt his face drawing dangerously close and he whispered one more time, directly in front of your lips. “Close enough.” Then he kissed you. The two of you had kissed before, but never sober.

“Get it?” he pulled away after a few moments, “You look hot. Cause it was hot.” he smirked at his own joke. “And you’re hot.”

You sighed, “I’m going to put on clothes, this is over.” he began to walk away, slowly feeling the arctic from the ac arriving.

“But nothing ever happened!” he yelled out. You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself and slam the door behind you as you stepped into your bedroom.

[anndroidgirl]

Hello again!

I bet you thought I forgot to post yesterday, didn't you?  Well, I didn't!  I had power issues.  My power went out around 2:30 pm yesterday and it didn't come back until 5:15 pm today!  Believe me was I glad to see it back.  Yesterday was one crazy thing after another.  I went out at my regular lunch time and nothing was open.  The power was out all over the city.  We had a LOT of rain in a very short time and some extremely high winds.  It was nuts.  I think a tornado touched down here but I don't know if that has been confirmed.  The first time I went out to try and find something open so I could get food, it was insane.  It was still raining and nasty.  There were roads under water, trees across roads, waterfalls where there are no waterfalls, etc.  It was very exciting, but very scary!  I actually had to drive UNDER two trees that were across the road and then drive around another tree on the same road.  Luckily that was back near my neighborhood so my happy ass went home! After the worst of the storms were over and it was only raining a little, I went back out to go to two different areas of the city that I didn't get to last trip.  One area was completely without power and the other area was blocked due to water in the road.  I had to go a crazy road about way, but I finally got back home.  That time, I decided I should just stay in!  I wrote a stack of pen pal letters on the MBP but of course, I couldn't mail them!  I also couldn't charge the MBP or my phone.  Oh and my data that I usually can use in a power outage decided to not work too!  I couldn't even get on to post that I couldn't post! Lol So later, my friend texted and asked if I had power yet.  No, I said, what about you?  He didn't either.  He asked if I wanted to ride somewhere and try to find something open to get food. I agreed immediately!  We found two fast food places that were open but they were backed up like crazy.  We found another one that had people inside eating, but when we got to the drive thru, they said they were closed. BOO!  He mentioned a gas station / convenience store that usually had deli sandwiches and stuff.  We went there.  They were busy busy, but they had sandwiches!  I got two bacon, egg, and cheese croissants.  They were so delicious.  After not eating all day, they were ambrosial!  I got a bag of chips and a Mountain Dew.  I also got a bag of mini chocolate chip cookies and a bag of Funyuns to have for today. So, I had to sleep with no air conditioning last night.  Luckily it wasn't too hot.  I am a person who likes to have my bedroom as an arctic climate when I sleep because I like to snuggle under covers.  I can't sleep unless I have some kind of cover on me.  I toss most of my bedding to the bottom of the bed and only used a light sheet and a blanket.  I finally got to sleep. One good thing about the power being out was that it was totally dark. I like it to be as dark as possible when I sleep.  I got my wish for sure last night.  I couldn't see anything.   So, today, I get up when my Fitbit alarm goes off, actually I was awake a bit before it did.  The power was still off, so that meant no coffee. OH NOES!  I drank a room temperature Mountain Dew. BLEAH!  I love cold soda. I DO NOT like warm soda.  I had to have the caffeine though! I decided to walk since I missed the last two days and there was nothing to do here anyway!  I got in a good walk.  I had to walk carefully in some areas because of downed lines and downed trees, but it was mainly okay.  The whole business section I pass when I'm walking was without power and still is as of about 20 minutes ago.  I had to run out to mail a package.   I was able to get a cold Coke (Thank the Goddess) at my turn around point. I came home and my power was still out.  Boo.  I noticed last night when I went out with my friend that my other friend that lives at the top of my street had power! WHAT?!  UGH.  Her street is on another transformer or something.  So, today, when I walked by there, I noticed that her son was home.  He is 21 and in college to be a doctor and I love him to pieces.  I called and asked if it would be okay for me to come up and charge my phone and my laptop.  He said sure so I went.  I charged my Macbook to about 80% and my phone to almost 100 and headed home.  They have power and they have a coffee maker.  I made myself a cup. LOL .  So, I had a nicely charge phone and MBP.  I came home and was trying to decide what to do about food.  I checked my phone and my data was working again so I was looking to see if I could find out what was open today.  A lot of city was / still is out.  My friend texted me and said if I could wait a bit, he'd pick me up and we'd go eat.  I did, and he did.  We ate and then he dropped me home.  While I was waiting for him to show, my power came back. YAY!  Hi didn't, though.  Sorry, friend!   So, when we got back and he dropped me off, his power was still off.  I went out just a few minutes ago to mail off a package from one of my ebay auctions and a business that is a few streets over from his house had power when they didn't earlier and it looked like several houses on his street had power.  He had gone out to a friend's house since they had power.  I guess he'll head home soon.  I know I'm glad to have mine back! While I was at the post office mailing that package, I also mailed off the letters I wrote last night. I was able to print them off today. I had to type them because it was the only way I could see to write them. LOL . OH!  After today's walk, something was hurting me on my chest right below my shoulder. It's way dark in the house without lights even in the daytime, so I couldn't see what it was.  I reached and a felt what felt like a flying stinging insect. I still don't know what it was or if it's still in my house.  It put a nice sized hole in me and it HURT.  Oh man, did it hurt. I'm pretty sure it was a wasp or a yellow jacket or something of the sort.  It's actually feels hot right now.  Not good!  Ah, well, I just wrote my book for Nano in this post. LOL Well, I didn't get to post yesterday so there you go.  I should be able to sleep well tonight with the air going. Yay!                 source http://www.anndroidgirl.com/my-blog/2018/10/hello-again.html