#liquid gas tank

[china-cryogenic-tanks]

Liquid argon cylinders

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[i-know-how-my-story-ends]

Doing everything I can to keep my body as not-miserable as possible is kind of funny. Spiritually I am a car getting seven miles to the gallon and the best anyone can do is tell me where the cheapest gas stations are

[arolesbianism]

Starting a new oni save that's not a rime colony for the first time in forever and I am in agony how do y'all live like this (shaking and crying as it is forced to enter a mildly warm area for drekos)

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[memorycycle]

when u unholster the gas pump and expose its insert and u push it into ur cars hole and feel the hose stiffen with liquid and u hold down on the trigger watching your cars tank fill all the way up until its close to its breaking point and only then do u let the pump slide out and its still dripping and u plug ur car up to make sure nothing leaks out and u dont even clean the pump as u hang it back up for the next car to enjoy

[bl00d-3-red]

Usually in the military, your code name is something you did embarrassing or a moment you and your teammates had a laugh about. An example would be if you had screamed at the sight of a spider on base, the code name ‘spider’ or ‘blackwidow’ would likely be given. This means that Task Force 141’s code name would actually be of embarrassing moments for them. Here’s what I HC they would be:

Ghost: Is so silent that there had been multiple times where he had accidentally snuck up on soldiers and scared the crap out of them. One rookie literally almost pissed themselves because of this.

Soap: Always sure he had liquid soap because he is scared that someone will bang him in the showers if he drops a bar. He is convinced this will happen.

Roach: He found a roach in his food and literally vomited in the nearest trashcan afterwards. Never ate that food since.

Price: While it is his last name, he is also called this because the boys caught him carrying coupons in his wallet. They giggled like a bunch of schoolboys and called him old. Price did not find it funny and explained that in an economy like this, he’d do anything to save money.

Gaz: Not once, but on five separate occasions, he called gas, “gaz”, with a “z” while filling up the tank of one of the vehicles. It was one of those moments where you didn’t know that’s actually how you say it, He literally thought that was how you pronounce gas. That was until Soap told him it’s “gas”.

[giuliettagaltieri]

Sad Little Thing

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Lovesick!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Crybaby, Love Guru, and the Sleep Deprived

Warning: Angst, swearing, one sided pining, shallow/light writing, you and Rafe are equally stupid in your own ways.

Word Count: 2057

3 of 4

Your eyes were bloodshot and dry by the time your engine stalls.  It makes the runabout lurch and shake before coming to a complete halt and just getting rocked by the gentle waves.  You glance down and bite your lip when you see the indicator for the gas tank. 

Great, you just successfully stranded yourself in the middle of the ocean at night.  You clench your teeth when a strong gust of wind makes goosebumps erupt from your arms.  Your mom and dad could be worried sick.  This was a bad idea. 

“No shit, Sherlock.”  You mutter to yourself.

You just had to make a mess out of everything.  First with Rafe, then running away from the party, and the cherry on top, here you are, in the middle of pitch black waters, you can’t see anything, no lights from the island, no boats.

Slumping in your seat, you check your pockets for your phone.

“Really?”  Groaning, you climb over to the built-in mattress over the stern when you realize your phone has zero service.  With your lips wobbling, you hug your knees to your chest.  Your breathing started building up as you look around the dark canvas around you.

You wanted to curse someone, anyone, but deep down you know you have only yourself to blame but you don’t want to admit that either.  Why can’t Rafe just forgive you like the way he did before?  You always mess up but he always makes you feel better too, he talks shit about anybody who wronged you, but why is he taking her side?

A bloodcurdling scream scratches at your throat as you lashed out, your delicate knuckles punching over the mattress, fat tears soaking your cheeks as the air in your lungs gets thinner and thinner.  You gnash your teeth when the mattress only dips to receive your hits.  Shallow lines appear on the leather surface as your nails accidentally scratch them.  You grip your hair, scalp burning as you pull in frustration. 

“I said I was sorry!”  You scream into the ocean.  While you blindly hit around, you miss how your clenched fist slams over the metal sticking out at the edge of the mattress.  The impact made an unmistakable sound of a crunch that had your stomach dropping to a pit. 

Gulping, you look up into the sky, hiding your hand from your line of sight as you cannot believe how you could manage to make everything worse.

A shiver rushes over your body when you feel warm liquid drip on your hand.  The pulsating pain spreading from your fist has your entire hand shaking and bile threatened to rise to your throat. 

With a gulp of air, you bring your left hand up to look at the damage. 

Your pinky was dislocated, it is bent at an odd angle, the skin between it and your ring finger was split and dark hot liquid was pouring out, you can barely see from the lack of light at the moment but you see it staining half your hand.

Rafe would have taken care of you if he was there.  You sobbed as you gently clutch your hand, bringing it to your chest. 

You have to do it.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held your bent pinky and with a couple of sharp breaths, you pulled it sharply to realign your bones.

Your scream was pure agony, spit dribbling down your chin as you collapsed on the mattress.  With shaky breaths you willed yourself not to pass out as you climbed off to search the compartment for the first aid kit with the minimal help the flashlight from your phone could offer.  

It wasn’t restocked, just your luck.

Grabbing the clumps of gauze pads, you press hard on your wound, your eyes squeezed shut the entire time.  With no antiseptics, you just decided to carefully tape your pinky to your ring finger to immobilize it and try to prevent more damage.

Over your phone, you inspected your hand, the side of your palm is starting to swell and heat up.  There were no painkillers in your first aid kit.  With cold sweat dripping your forehead and soaking your back, you figured that trying to sleep to numb the pain would be the next option.

It’s alright.  Your dad will find you.  He’s probably out searching right now.  You just hope Rafe wouldn’t know.  You made yourself look pathetic in front of him, you can’t handle anything worse.

A loud call of your name was what woke you.  The sun was slowly rising, you can see it in the far distance, just barely above the horizon.  Groaning, you get up, immediately wincing when you accidentally lean on your injured hand.  It’s swollen really badly now.

“Y/N!”

You stand up on your shaky legs and see Topper waving at you.

If he’s here, Rafe could possibly be looking for you too.  You can only imagine the earful he would give you.

Smiling weakly, you wave back.

“Jesus, Y/N!  You scared us.  Disappearing like that.”  Topper tells you when he gets close enough.

“I’m sorry.”  You can’t even look him in the eyes.  “I uhm…I ran out of gas.”

Topper scratched his head.  “Yeah, I figured.”

He helps you to his boat, giving you a bottle of water while he works on the lines so he can tow your boat.  He was not happy when he saw your hand but upon seeing how broken you already look, he chose to shut up.

“How did you find me?”  You ask, your throat still sore from screaming and crying all night.

“Rafe told us where to go.”  Topper turns to you and smiles.  “He’s looking for you.  Kelce too.”  He says just to break the silence and you hum.  The sun is slowly climbing up, making the sky look like it had watercolor poured all over it.  “We started looking for you last night.  Kelce and I had to go home to rest for a while and started searching again before dawn.”

You squeeze the empty water bottle a little too tight.  “I’m really sorry for causing trouble.”

“Nah, I get it.  Kelce told us about what happened at the party.  I have known you for years now, Y/N, and frankly, I’m not that surprised you did this.”  Topper chuckles and your cheeks flush in embarrassment.  “Hey!  We’re close enough to the island.”  He fishes his phone out of his pocket.  “I should tell Rafe I found you.  He’s up all night, looking for you.”

Your eyes widen upon hearing that.  “Maybe,” you interject a little too loudly, “maybe we shouldn’t do that.”  You say, more calmly.

Topper glances at you from his shoulder.  “Okay.”  He hesitates but he slips his phone back to his pocket.  “Why?”

Smiling awkwardly, you stand next to him, wobbling a little with the speed of Topper’s boat cutting the waves.  “I don’t want him to see me right now, at this state, especially when his anger is at its peak.”

“I’d say he’s more of uhm…worried than angry.”  Topper smiles and you return it weakly.

You’re not too sure if you believe that.

“I really messed up, Topper.”  You sigh as you lean on the boat.  “I was so protective of him.  He’s probably sick from how I am all over him all the time.”

He clears his throat, not really knowing how to tread through this conversation with you.

“Maybe it’s because you’re a little too…easy?”  He winces when you whip your head to him.

“What did you say?”

Fuck, you sound pissed.

“Look, you’re giving Rafe everything he wants.  There’s no challenge, so why would he pursue you?”  He tried to explain as kindly as he can but there’s no easy way to put it.  “You need to put yourself first before him, let him see your worth instead of selling yourself to him all day everyday.”

As much as you want to kick Topper’s knees inward, he’s right.

“You think he’ll like me more if I stay away?”

He grimaces at the thought, he could potentially start another conflict.

“Don't stay away, just…prioritize yourself more?  You know, reservations.”

“Right.”  You mumble.  “You’re a great guy, Topper.  I know you’re Rafe’s friend, not mine, but I’m really glad you’re doing all of this.”

Topper flashes you a smile.  “What are you talking about?  I’m your friend too.”

“Really?”  You look at him brightly.

“Yeah!  I’m actually hurt right now.”  He jokes.  “All this time I thought we were really good friends.  Do you just see me as an acquaintance?”

“Neighbor.”  You reply cheekily, making him laugh.  “I should invite you to join girls' night.  You’d blend in really nicely, plus you give great advice.”  This immediately cuts his laughter and he clears his throat, a soft blush coating his nose, making you elbow him playfully.

Your father picks you up from the docks and rushes you to the hospital, after thanking Topper, to have your hand looked at by a doctor. 

Despite the painkillers they gave you, it was excruciating, having your finger realigned properly.  You can’t even laugh at the compliment the doctor gave you for packing quite a punch.  With a change of clothes and properly splinted hand, you sit patiently on one of the benches in the hospital. 

You’re waiting for your father to come back from paying the medical bill when rushed footsteps echo around the hospital corridor. 

A pair of shoes that you know too well, as it was you who helped him pick it out, stops in front of you.

“Y/N.”

You look to the side, not really wanting to see him at the moment.  Topper or your father must have contacted him.  It was silly of you to think you can hide, knowing how persistent he can be.

“Y/N.”  He spoke a little firmer, making you look up briefly before you look away again.

“Not now, please, Rafe.”  You sigh, too exhausted to handle his outbursts.

He sits next to you, you glance discreetly just in time to see him running a hand over his face.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You seriously think I don’t know that?”  You roll your eyes as you glare up at him.  “I of all people know that, Rafe!”

He faces you, his eyes wide in anger.  “You don’t!”  He breathes out a cold laugh as he taps his index and middle finger on your temple.  “You…You weren’t thinking and you don’t know anything! At all!”  You flinch slightly at his rising voice and he immediately backs up.  He glares at the wall, his shirt stretching as he sighs. 

You drop your eyes to his twitching hand.  You wanted to hold it but you’re scared you’ll do something he doesn’t like again.

“I was up all night, looking all over for you.”  Rafe whispered harshly between clenched teeth.  “And you just couldn’t settle with being stranded in the middle of the ocean, you had to hurt yourself too!”

“I know, I know.  I’m sorry.”  You whispered.

Rafe runs a hand over his buzzed hair, shaking his head.  “No, no, no, Y/N.  I leave you for a while and you pull these stunts.  You’re becoming a liability.”

You gasp as you look at him with scared eyes.  He couldn’t possibly mean that.

He leans close to you, until his warm breath is fanning over your face.  “I can’t trust you with yourself.”

Despite the fight you are having you couldn’t stop saying the next words that fall from your lips.  “So take care of me!”  You cry as you shut your eyes, tears rushing out uncontrollably.

Rafe licks his lips, his eyes watching you sharply.  God, you’re fucking dependent on him.  He pulls you closer and presses a kiss on your forehead but you pull away.  He presses his lips together.  You’ve never done that before, you never pull away when he initiates physical contact. 

He puts a hand over your nape and pulls you back in.  “Listen, I can’t be around all the time, okay?  Do you understand?”  You nod at him as you struggle to wipe your tears.  “I need to see that you can take care of yourself too, can you do that?”

You nod at him again but he clicks his tongue.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Rafe.”

Lovesick Little Thing

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Small Ways To Elevate Your Life

Fashion & Beauty:

Wear coordinated lingerie (bra and underwear) under your outfit daily

Keep at least one pair of shapewear/sculpting underwear in your closet to streamline your look under form-fitting clothes

Invest in high-quality socks and hosiery (I love everything from HUE!)

Curate a collection of basics tanks, tees, and long-sleeves that pair well with each type of jeans/trousers/skirt/outerwear option you wear on repeat throughout the week/month

Invest in a timeless black boot (one short and one tall or mid-calf), loafer/flat, pump, and white sneaker that pair well with nearly any outfit

Apply products in the order: liquid, cream, then powder (you can top all of them off with a setting spray if desired)

If you're confused about what your YLLB (your lips but better) shade is, try to match it to the darker portion of your nipple

Switch off eyes in between mascara coats when applying more than one coat

Apply lip balm before you start doing your makeup so it can absorb into your lips and ensure your lipstick/gloss/tint doesn't dry out your lips

Health & Wellness:

Get a pill box to house your daily vitamins & supplements; Fill it up on Sunday evening to have all of your supplements in your sight, sorted, and simple to take every day without a second thought

Always take your supplements with food, not coffee, to optimize absorption

Drink a large glass of water within 5-10 minutes of waking up

Invest in beautiful, large salad bowls and/or juice & smoothie glasses to inspire you to eat more salads and greens-filled meals throughout the week

Ensure you're breathing normally/not stressed when eating to avoid excess bloating; Don't use straws when possible if you're prone to trapped gas

Try the diagram breathing technique to calm your nerves when you wake up, when you're trying to sleep, wind down, or anytime you're stressed (Place one hand on the center of your chest and the other in the middle of your stomach right below your rib cage)

Learn how to give yourself a sinus massage and an abdominal self-massage to relieve everyday congestion and pain at home

[tumsnstuff]

Anon who was talking about boot//hill being full, you have gotten me hooked on the space cowboy. I think he would be able to feel hunger, his body trying to work on nothing but fumes. He starts slowing down, non important things start to turn off to conserve power. His gas tank (stomach? Idk how his insides work) would definitely make noise too. As he gets closer to being empty it starts making a noise kind of like emptying a water bottle but a bit more grumbly ig. It probably would start aching as his tank tries to process gas that isn't there. It would also probably have the added bonus of making him kind of burpy as his system has nothing to take in but air.

Full, you wouldn't really be able to see it but you'd definitely hear it. Every movement sloshing the liquid inside him. I also like to think that his gas tank is in a similar spot to where a normal stomach would be, so slightly off to one side and he would be able to feel how heavy it is inside him. I talked about how he would probably sound like an overheating computer in the last one but if you somehow managed to hear his bellt over the fans it would probably sound kind of bubbly as he used up the fuel and it drained away

HHHHHHHHHHHHH

[gassydumbjocks]

Extreme Fizz

As Tanner sat in his room working on his computer in some homework, he heard the front door slams, sighing at the thought of knowing who it was, seconds later his older brother, Jake, your typical and generic dumb jock with a sweaty tank top and shorts one could easy imagine, burst in with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hey lil bro, I got something for you" Jake said, in his ussual deep voice tone, tossing a can of soda onto Tanner's desk.

Tanner looked up from his computer at him, then at the can, suspiciously "What is this?"

"It's a new soda brand I found at the store! you remember say you needed something to stay focused when you stayed till late doing your final semester proyect?, Thought it might help you with your nerd stuff" Jake replied putting the can closer to him.

Tanner raises an eyebrow, examinating the drink in his hands "Extreme Fizz? I certainly never heard of this brand before... but if it does what it claims, Thanks, Jake" He responded.

Jake just patted Tanner on the back. "No problem, lil bro, that's what brothers do! just remember who helped you to become even smarter" he mentioned letting out a dumb chuckle.

"Yeah right" Tanner said with a bit of sarcasm, finding funny what his airhead of a brother just said. Without thinking too much, he decided to open the can and took a big gulp of the fizzy drink "It if works and i get to finish this project sooner i'll owe you one, you big oaf" He said jokingly with a small laugh to Jake.

Almost immediately, a really strong and bubbly taste filled his taste buds , then he felt a strange sensation coursing through his body. A gurgle announced from his gut, causing him to suddenly let out a small burp, feeling a little embarrassed "BUuUrp!!...Gosh, Excuse me"

Jake chuckled again "Looks like it's working already, lil bro!, Keep chugging that stuff down, some gas is just normal"

Tanner hesitated for a moment and processed the situation, it was just rare how quickly it gave him gas, blaming it on probably how much he chugged at once, He continued to drink, Soon he could feel the fizz invading all his guts and stomach, his mind woking up and working at fast speed, He was in awe with the effects

But as Tanner continued to drink, he started to notice something else, his gut experimenting side effects too.

His stomach began to gurgle louder, then louder again, and felt a huge pressure building up inside him, before he lets out a fart that erupted from his ass.

"PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRTTT!!!"

Sounding pretty bassy and loud for his usuals, his embarrasment increasing only more.

"What in the hell did that drink had to cause such amount of-UUUUURRRRP!!!-Gas!"

UUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPP!!!!

He cried out to the jock, who seemed to enjoy this with a big smile.

"Just ignore that, bro It's a side effect of the soda, Keep drinking," Jake said, urging Tanner to keep consuming the gassy drink.

Tanner felt torture with this, but for some reason now he couldn't stop drinking, the flavor in each gulp just tasted better and better, till the nerd got addicted, He continued to chug the soda, even as he felt his body changing in ways he couldn't explain.

"What's happening to me?!" Tanner yelled terrified, seeing his new body in the mirror.

Jake gave another dumb giggle and grinned wickedly. "Looks like the soda is doing its job, lil bro, You'll become a real man, a jock, just like me, now why dont you belch a bit more? Jocks always love to burp to show off how manly they are" He requested.

As if he was in a kind of trance, he felt a growl in his stomach again "You wont hear me doin such-UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRP!!" the gas slipped out of his mouth with ease, and the contaminated air seemed to affect his thougts too, not much later he found himself letting a deep and dumb laugh out, just like Jake.

Tanner continued drinking, savouring the liquid with exitement, unaware of his actions from now on, with his tongue out like a dog and eyes crossed that made him look like a fool, He felt the urge to let out some more gas trapped in, rubbing his belly, he simply lifted up a leg and proceeded to let loose.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRTTT!!!

BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRPP!!

"BROO it was a comboo hahaha" He dumbly said before flexing with an arm and scratching an itch he had in his butt with the other hand.

The room filled with the manly simphony of his man gas, He could feel himself becoming more brute, gross, and dumb, losing his once cherised intelligence and devolving to have an IQ no higher than an ape.

Feeling his mind slipping away as he transformed into a mindless jock, Jake putted an arm around his neck patting his back "Ain't it feel better bro? Just relax and let the gas rip like the dumb jock you-UUUUUUUUURRRP!!-are" He said before letting out a bassy belch in Tanner's face and giggle like an idiot.

"Dude i feel full and bloated" Tanner complained, but then he simply made a signal of 'wait' with his finger, and lifted his leg.

PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRTTTTT!!

Jake fanned the fart smirking "No more nerdy school projects for you, Now you can join me on the gym with me and the boys and show off your new muscles bro" He spanked his bro's meaty ass, walking out the room to work out together.

Leaving the now athlete boy's room, He was now nothing more than a burping, farting gross beast, just like Jake, ready to let a big one rip like a real man should, and have a good time with his bro.

[china-cryogenic-tanks]

Cryogenic tanks

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At DSW, we take pride in providing a diverse selection of cryogenic storage tanks suitable for various liquefied gases, including liquid nitrogen, liquid argon, liquid oxygen, liquid hydrogen, liquid natural gas, and liquid nitrous oxide. Our globally recognized tanks are engineered to meet the highest safety and performance standards, ensuring that your valuable cryogenic substances are stored and transported with the utmost care and precision. Count on DSW for all your cryogenic storage needs.

[jangmi-latte]

TELELET 📞📳📞TELELET📞📳📞CAN I HALP U?👀🧐😈TELELET📞📳📞TELELET📞📳📞 BORK🐶🐶BORK🐶🐶BORK🐶🐶AYAYAY🎶🎶 AYM🤭🤪 YOR LITOL😝😍😍BATIRPLAY🦋🦋AYAYAY🎶🎶🎶AYM😅😅🤩YOR LITOL😘😘😍BATERPLAY🦋🦋AYAYAY🎶🎶AYM🤩😅🤩YOR LITOL😍🤩😍 BATIRPLAY🦋 call me old fashioned, but i was born to serve vil. i do the laundry, cook dinner, clean dishes. i live to serve & carry out every demand of his on the slightest whim, its what i was put on this earth to do. if he cheats on me then its my fault! he caught me slipping. *eyes pop out* AROOOOOOOOGA! *jaw drops tongue rolls out* WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF *tongue bursts out of the mouth uncontrollably leaking face and everything in reach* WURBLWUBRLBWURblrwurblwurlbrwubrlwburlwbruwrlblwublr *tiny cupid shoots an arrow through heart* Ahhhhhhhhhhh me lady... *heart in the shape of a heart starts beating so hard you can see it through shirt* ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum *milk truck crashes into a bakery store in the background spiling white liquid and dough on the streets* BABY WANTS TO FUCK *inhales from the gas tank* honka honka honka honka *masturabtes furiously* ohhhh my gooooodd~ Wheeeee! Oinka oinka! Haaaaaaheeee! A- whooooga A-whoooooga! Aaaaaargh! Hneeeeeeeee! Fnrgh! Grunt grunt! Hinggggg! Whazzo! Boink jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely.

[entitled-fangirl]

Two idiots in love. (P4)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Joel and the reader continue to navigate their feelings for each other, but it starts to become more and more clear as time progresses.

Warning: blood, guns, death, cursing

Masterlist

Parts 1, 2, 3, 5

..................................................................

Ellie walked out of the building to join Joel and Y/N.

Joel was knelt down by a car, his hands prying at the gas cap. Y/N was leaning against said car, and the two seemed to be arguing.

"Joel, please. I can help you sometimes…"

"No. You don't need to be doing any of this stuff. Bad for you."

Siphoning another car.

Ellie sighed as she neared, "We have to do this every hour?"

The two peaked their heads up at her.

Joel calmly explained, "Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water. Back in the day, we'd drive, 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."

She nodded, "So where'd you go?"

Joel looked up at her again, finally rigging up the tubing. "Pretty much nowhere." And he brought the tube to his mouth.

He blew into one tube, making gas come out of the other and into their small fuel tank.

Ellie smiled, "Nice! How does that work?"

He tilted his head back and forth, "It's a siphon."

Ellie looked confused, and Joel realized he needed to dumb it down a bit.

Y/N smiled as well. Joel was such a patient man.

"It's when liquid travels against gravity," he looked a bit confused, "…because pressure…"

"You don't know."

Joel became defensive, "I know it works."

Ellie turned away, walking towards another car.

Joel reprimanded, "No wandering."

The girl sighed, "Okay." And set on the hood of the closest car. "This is your fault then."

Y/N laughed as Ellie pulled her joke book out of her bag, watching Joel become more annoyed at each joke.

…

"Alright. I think that's enough for today."

Joel turned the truck off the road and into the forest.

Y/N got out carefully, and moved to the bed of the truck to get the small camping grill Bill had left them.

Joel stopped her, "I'll get it, sweetheart."

He set it on the ground where they would make their camp.

She smiled, "Well, you get us unpacked, and I'll make dinner?"

He considered her proposal, "Alright."

…

The two adults watched Ellie eat her food with an animalistic speed. 

"Slow down," Joel reprimanded.

"This IS slow." 

Y/N smiled with a small chuckle.

Ellie finally slowed down, "What am I even eating?"

Y/N finally spoke up, "That is 20 year old Chef Boyardee ravioli."

"Well, that guy was GOOD."

Joel grimaced, "I actually agree."

The silence ensued until Ellie spoke up, "Can we start a fire though? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?"

"Because infected will see the smoke…"

Y/N spoke up again, her plate untouched, "…no. That's not it at all…"

Joel nodded, "Fungus isn't that smart. This is too remote for Infected anyway."

Ellie gulped slightly, "…People?"

Joel just gave a look, but it was enough to tell her she was right.

"So, what are they gonna do? Rob us?" Ellie scoffed.

Joel stared down at his food, "No. They'll have way more in mind than that." He glanced over, seeing Y/N's untouched plate, "Eat."

She sighed slightly, "I… I'm not that hungry."

He straightened his shoulders, his voice becoming demanding, "Eat, Y/N."

She shook her head. She didn't mean to be defiant, but she couldn't bare to eat food at the moment. 

Joel set his plate down. She knew his tone well. He was angry, but trying to mask it for her. "Sweet girl…"

But she stopped before he could continue, "Joel, really. Please don't push it."

He stared at her for a while before nodding, going back to his food.

…

Joel and Y/N woke up early, under the same covers as they always did. Joel began to pack up as Y/N offered to start a small pot of coffee.

Joel took the offer, running a hand over Y/N's messy hair. He took note of her puffy eyes from sleep and the sweet smile that she wore.

He wished he could hold that picture forever.

They began their duties, as made quiet small talk to avoid waking Ellie. "Joel..?"

Joel turned to look at Y/N over his shoulder, "..Yeah?"

"Somedays I wish I had your accent…"

Joel actually smirked at the woman. God, she was a treasure. "My accent?"

"Yeah. You have this accent. I don't know. I like it, I guess."

He nodded, unsure of what to say.

So, she continued, "I think I just like your voice. It's… soothing. I don't think the accent would sound as nice with me."

Joel just let her talk. She hadn't spoken this much since Bill and Frank's. 

"…I wish I could've met you before all of this…"

This made the man stop packing. "…what?"

"I.. well… you know? What you were like and… what you did, what you wore, how you talked. What you were like with your daughter…."

Joel was unmoving. He was thankful his back was to her, or she would've seen the expression on his face.

"…Can't I be a little curious?"

He sighed. Of course, she could be. He would tell her anything in the world her heart desired if she asked.

Finally, he spoke. It was slow and calculated, "You can be."

"Do you think we would've been friends? Our old selves?"

This woman would be Joel's end. And he would love her for it.

He finally turned to look at her. She sat on the ground next to the pot of coffee. Her big eyes staring back up at his in concern for his answer.

He sat in the silence for a moment as he thought of what to say. He settled on, "…you wouldn't have liked me." And he moved back to the truck to pack.

She tilted her head, "You don't know that."

He spoke over his shoulder, "I do. And I don't even know why you're around me now, if I'm being honest."

She misinterpreted him, her eyes saddening, "Well… do… Do you not want me here?"

Joel immediately turned around with wide eyes and slight panic. His voice hardened, "That's not what I said. And don't say that ever again."

She was thrown off by his sudden defense. It confused her, "…but you said.."

"You're not leaving. I won't let that happen."

A nod and a confused look was all Joel got from the woman in front of him.

She stood up, walking her bag to the truck. She stood next to Joel, and placed the bag in the bed.

They said nothing. They weren't sure if there was anything to say.

Joel finally sighed, turning to her. He reached up with one hand, placing it on the bag of her head, letting his fingers play with the strands of hair, "Listen, sweet girl. I only meant-"

"What the fuck is that?"

Ellie interrupted the two.

Joel sighed as he dropped his hand and looked over to Ellie, "You don't like coffee?"

Y/N sighed at the lost moment, her shoulders slumping.

…

Ellie woke up in the backseat as Y/N muttered road names under her breath to Joel as she stared at a road map. Joel would only nod or hum lightly at the names.

Ellie thought it was strange, their little secret language to each other.

But she only opened her eyes when she felt the truck stop.

They were at the outskirts of an abandoned city.

And the underpass needed to keep driving was blocked by a semi truck that had crashed.

"Stay put." Joel muttered as he got out with his gun to investigate.

Ellie took this time to get caught up. "Where are we?"

Y/N looked over her shoulder, "Kansas City."

Ellie nodded, "So, you and Joel are..?"

Y/N sighed, "You heard us this morning?"

"Yeah. I think he likes you a lot."

The woman leaned back in her seat. "Doesn't matter, Ellie. You shouldn't get too attached to people. They always die."

"But Joel-"

"-I said, it doesn't matter." Her voice grew pleading, "Don't get too attached to us, Ellie."

The girl knew she didn't really mean that.

Joel got back into the truck, his hand reaching out for the map in Y/N's hands.

Ellie noticed the way their fingers grazed each others. "So how far back do we have to go?"

Joel stared at the map, tracing potential roads until he sighed. He gently set the map down in Y/n's lap. "Screw it."

He turned the truck around, driving through the city to get back on the highway. 

But half way through, he cursed under his breath, "Where the fuck is the highway?"

Y/N hummed, "I'm turned around now. Just… give me a second."

Joel spoke up, "Don't look at the state map, hon. Look at the inset."

"Either way, I'll still be confused."

She spoke under her breath, trying to figure it out.

Joel turned, "It's gotta be the right…"

"STOP!"

Joel hit the brakes at Ellie's plea.

A man was in front of the truck, holding his side, "Please! Help me!"

Y/N's head perked up at the cry, "Joel…?"

"Put your damn seatbelt on."

Ellie stared at the man, "Aren't we gonna help him?"

"No."

And Joel hit the gas, making the man jump out of the way.

Y/N noticed the person on the roof of the next building, their feet kicking at a barrel.

And it fell towards the truck.

"JOEL!"

Joel tried to swerve, but couldn't avoid it.

It hit the windshield. 

It made Joel blind to the row of nails that now pierced the tires. 

The truck swerved, crashing into a building harshly.

Joel immediately reached out for Y/N, his hand on the back of her head like earlier, but in a more panicked state, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're not hurt or nothin?"

"… I don't know…"

When Joel pulled his hand away from her head, it came back slightly red with blood. 

"Shit."

Y/N noticed the blood too, looking at Joel with a worried expression.

He wanted to comfort her, but the bullets that pierced the truck reminded him of the situation. 

"Belts off. Get out."

Ellie and Y/N got out on the passenger side, blocking themselves from the bullets. 

Joel followed suit.

He reached into the backseat through the window, grabbing his gun.

He turned to the girls, "You see that hole over there?"

They looked over to the hole in the wall.

"Can you squeeze through?"

Y/N only stared.

"When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through and you don't come out until I say, okay?"

A bullet broke one of the windows.

"And they're not gonna hit you." 

Joel noticed Y/N's wandering gaze. He wanted to be soft, but he was too panicked to go so. "LOOK AT ME!"

She did.

"They're not gonna hit you. Take Ellie with you."

She stopped, "but I can't leave you."

He took her jaw in one hand, "You sweet, sweet girl. I'm gonna be fine. Let me worry about you. Stay down, stay low, and you stay quiet."

She knew not to argue.

"Alright. Go."

And with that, the two girls crawled to the hole in the wall with determination. Joel peaked over the top of the truck bed to shoot back.

He made sure the two got through.

He shot one easily, but another man was still out there. And judging by his taunts, he was enraged. 

Silence.

Ellie and Y/N only stared at each other with wide eyes. Unsure of Joel's safety.

A gunshot.

Y/N couldn't help it. She just barely peeked out from the hole to check.

Joel stood tall, the end of his gun smoking just slightly. 

He reached down to reload.

And it was jammed.

The door opened and a young man stepped out, ready to fight.

Joel was too.

Y/n heard the sound of rustling and the occasional grunt from a hit. 

She wasn't sure who was winning. 

But she was going to make sure it was Joel.

She stepped out while the man had his back to her.

Joel noticed and his eyes widened.

When the man saw Joel's gaze, he followed it. To which Y/N threw a heavy punch to the man's face.

The man was thrown off but not for long enough. 

He reached forward, grabbing Y/N by her hair and pulling her to him.

Joel took that as an advantage and wrapped his hand around the man's neck, the other over his head, ready to snap his neck. He growled in the man's ear, "Don't fucking touch her."

Though the man was the only one with the gun, he was at the disadvantage.

Y/N stared into the man's eyes, trying to read his thoughts.

Finally, he muttered, "You're gonna fucking pay, old man."

This angered Joel. He didn't want to just kill the man. He wanted him to pay.

So, he threw the man backwards into the floor, continuing the fight.

Y/N fell to the ground herself, cradling her head in pain. She was already losing blood from earlier, and she was beginning to see stars.

So, when Joel was on the ground, being choked by the man, Y/N was of no help.

Ellie stepped out, shooting the man in the leg. 

It gave Joel a moment to collect himself and his breath. His eyes immediately flickered between Ellie and Y/N. 

The man backed up to the door on the ground. 

He was just a boy.

And he began to plead, "NO, no, no it's okay. It's okay. It's over. We're not fighting anymore."

Y/N pushed herself up onto her knees. Her face contorted in pain.

She couldn't help but feel bad.

Especially when he continued, "I'm gonna go home. I'll tell everyone you're good. I… I don't know what to do. My legs don't work."

He started to weep. "My mom isn't far, if you could get me to her."

Joel started to get up.

"Please. We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn't know. I'm Bryan."

Joel approached Ellie was an angry expression, holding his hand out for the gun in her hand.

She sighed and handed it to him.

And Joel took out a knife, turning back to the boy.

The boy began to plead again, "Wait, wait, wait."

Joel turned to Ellie in rage. His voice was low, "Get back behind the wall."

Ellie just stared.

Finally, Y/N spoke up quietly, "…just go."

When Ellie turned to leave, Bryan began pleading loudly, "I'm sorry! Please, no! I'm sorry!"

Y/N turned to Joel once Ellie hid. A tear fell down her face at the sight. Her voice was almost a whisper, "Joel?"

But he wouldn't listen. "Close your eyes."

Joel was an unmovable force. Merciless and cruel. For everyone that stood in his way. 

It scared her slightly, watching his eyes turn murderous.

She had killed before, sure. But never had she looked so… bloodthirsty.

Not like he did.

She closed her eyes, listening to the man's cries for his mother until they were silenced.

She didn't dare open her eyes until she felt Joel's breath on her face. 

His eyes scanned her carefully. "You okay?"

"No."

Joel's jaw clenched. "Alright. We'll fix this. Let's get you cleaned up, Darlin."

And just like that, the murderous glare was gone, and Joel had returned.

And this Joel was hers.

............................................................

Author's note: I'm gonna make a tag list for any continuing parts I make. Comment if you want on it and I'll add you!

Part 5

[sanctus-ingenium]

Saint Taurus & a handy size chart based mostly on relative size rather than Actual Size (so ignore the little human figure).

Once the church threw itself into the hunting of dragons and subsequent harvesting of their ichor, a new problem arose: the transportation of thousands upon thousands of gallons of highly volatile, toxic dragonsblood. The harvesting process takes months, and it is a continual race against time; dragonsblood in liquid form will become gas at very low temperatures, and a good 50% of all spilled blood is lost to evapotranspiration after a battle. Transporting this precious liquid safely is a greater challenge than harvesting it.

Taurus provides a simple solution. Stationed in the most central region of the empire, Taurus can reach the site of a battle and start transporting ichor before the dragon has even died. Taurus is the biggest of all the beasts and by far the strongest, and his harness & transport barge consist of the largest manmade structures within the empire (and potentially beyond it, as well). In fact, the fire shield at the front of the barge is the single largest continuous piece of metal ever designed by the armoursmiths, but it serves a vital role of keeping sparks from the exhaust flames from reaching the dragonsblood. Although the barrels are sealed, the danger of dragonsblood ignition is so great that all caution must be taken.

As if the logistical and metalworking challenges of this venture were not enough, Taurus must also be heavily armoured, with his main connection points to his barge reinforced. Poachers who can't bring down dragons to get their own dragonsblood engine fuel frequently choose to attack the barge. Taurus is considered to be unstoppable, too large and tank-like to even attempt to take down, but he still needs an escort of ground soldiers to watch the back of the barge, or occasionally a companion beast if the risk is high. It's a tricky operation - the scale of the barge is such that it becomes difficult to watch every inch, and on nearly every single excursion there is some ichor lost to theft, even if it is only as much as a single person or horse can carry.

The knight rider of Taurus, Sir Bounty, always rides with an inspector in his throne chamber, after an incident fifty years back wherein the previous Sir Bounty was found to have been taking bribes from poachers from outside the empire. He would linger at certain points on the route long enough to allow significant theft of ichor from the barge. Since then, all knights are regularly tested to ensure they do not succumb to the sin of greed, and that their vows of poverty remain unbroken. The punishment for the crime matches that which the old Sir Bounty suffered; death by immersion in hydrargyrum.

[oldbutchdaniel]

i’m just like aziraphale for real because i will see crowley in one of his most modest outfits of all time and be like Whoa mama! Hummina hummina hummina bazooooooooing! *eyes pop out* AROOOOOOOOGA! *jaw drops tongue rolls out* WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF *tongue bursts out of my mouth* WURBLWUBRLBWURblrwurblwurlbrwubrlwburlwbruwrlblwublr *tiny cupid shoots an arrow through heart* Ahhhhhhhhhhh me lady... *heart in the shape of a heart starts beating so hard you can see it through shirt* ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum *milk truck crashes into a bakery store in the background spiling white liquid and dough on the streets* BABY WANTS TO FUCK *inhales from the gas tank* honka honka honka honka ohhhh my gooooodd~