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#if you are trying to figure out which of these to listen to
alexanderwales · 2 days
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I'm a big fan of wizards-as-programmers, but I think it's so much better when you lean into programming tropes.
A spell the wizard uses to light the group's campfire has an error somewhere in its depths, and sometimes it doesn't work at all. The wizard spends a lot of his time trying to track down the exact conditions that cause the failure.
The wizard is attempting to create a new spell that marries two older spells together, but while they were both written within the context of Zephyrus the Starweaver's foundational work, they each used a slightly different version, and untangling the collisions make a short project take months of work.
The wizard has grown too comfortable reusing old spells, and in particular, his teleportation spell keeps finding its components rearranged and remixed, its parts copied into a dozen different places in the spellbook. This is overall not actually a problem per se, but the party's rogue grows a bit concerned when the wizard's "drying spell" seems to just be a special case of teleportation where you teleport five feet to the left and leave the wetness behind.
A wizard is constantly fiddling with his spells, making minor tweaks and changes, getting them easier to cast, with better effects, adding bells and whistles. The "shelter for the night" spell includes a tea kettle that brings itself to a boil at dawn, which the wizard is inordinately pleased with. He reports on efficiency improvements to the indifference of anyone listening.
A different wizard immediately forgets all details of his spells after he's written them. He could not begin to tell you how any of it works, at least not without sitting down for a few hours or days to figure out how he set things up. The point is that it works, and once it does, the wizard can safely stop thinking about it.
Wizards enjoy each other's company, but you must be circumspect about spellwork. Having another wizard look through your spellbook makes you aware of every minor flaw, and you might not be able to answer questions about why a spell was written in a certain way, if you remember at all.
Wizards all have their own preferences as far as which scripts they write in, the formatting of their spellbook, its dimensions and material quality, and of course which famous wizards they've taken the most foundational knowledge from. The enlightened view is that all approaches have their strengths and weaknesses, but this has never stopped anyone from getting into a protracted argument.
Sometimes a wizard will sit down with an ancient tome attempting to find answers to a complicated problem, and finally find someone from across time who was trying to do the same thing, only for the final note to be "nevermind, fixed it".
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mywritersmind · 11 hours
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WINNING KISS - LN4
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summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.
listen up : no warnings!!
word count : 750
⋆。‧˚⋆
I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.
I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.
“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.
“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.
He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.
A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.
She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.
The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.
As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.
She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.
My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.
I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”
I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”
“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”
“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.
She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.
“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.
She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”
I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”
She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.
“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.
“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.
“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.
She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.
When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.
She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.
When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.
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nepenthendline · 3 days
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you've corrupted the chief justice - neuvillette x reader (ft wriothesley)
summary: you and wriothesley have a full conversation about your sex life with neuvillette without saying a single word
a/n: this is neuvillette x reader but its mainly focused on wriothesley, wriothesley being a menance, neuvillette has no idea what the fuck is going on, complete choas, mentions of sex but sfw otherwise, no mention of gender, poor writing but oh well
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Once every few weeks, the 4 of you, which includes Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Furina, and yourself, finally get a chance where your schedules aline to relax together. These times are always held in Neuvillette's office with a table full of cakes, desserts, and teas to snack on as you catch up. Since your relationship with the Iudex began, you've grown close to those Neuvillette sees as family and look forward to these peaceful reunions.
You were all sat around the table, with Neuvillette on your left, Wriothesley in front of you and Furina on your right. Neuvillette and Furina had been discussing some recent trials for a while now - you nor Wriosthesley had much to add, neither of you had much involvement when it came to the trials, but you listened in whilst enjoying your desserts.
After a few minutes, you felt something nudge your leg under the table from in front of you. With furrowed brows, you looked up towards Wriothesley to see him looking back at you with a mischievous smirk. Oh, archons... you've seen this look a few times - when he's bored and thought of something to entertain himself
His eyes darted between you and Neuvillette, his finger subtly following, pointing at the both of you. Then, his index finger and thumb joined together to create a circle, whilst his other index finger poked in and out of said circle. With his brow raised, you could tell he was asking you.
You stifled a chuckle as his immaturity before nodding smugly to answer his question - yes, the two of you have had sex.
He nodded along, his smirk growing larger as if to say he knew, then pondered for a moment, looking at the Iudex next to him. Seconds later, he looked back to you, raising 1 finger, then all 10 whilst mouthing '1 to 10' and flashing his eyes at your partner.
You covered your mouth with your hand as if to be in thought, but truly, you were trying to stop yourself from laughing at his antics - discussing such activities in front of the Chief Justice and Archon. Despite having no experience or even desire before you, Neuvillette was quick to learn when it came to pleasuring you, and he was certainly enthusiastic. You held up all 10 fingers, close to the table, to not draw too much attention.
Wriothesley's mouth formed an 'o' shaped, slightly taken back by your rating of his boss, but seemed to get past it quickly. He leaned forward in his seat, pointed between 2 of the cakes on the decorated table, and then looked at you. Your head tilted, glancing between the cakes and the man in front of you, trying to figure out what he meant. Then, you realised the difference between the two desserts - one was vanilla and one was chocolate. You could only assume he was trying to decipher whether Neuvillette was a simple vanilla lover or someone more adventurous.
You blew air into your cheeks, slouching back into your chair whilst in thought. Neuvillette certainly wasn't what you would describe as 'kinky', in fact, even associating that word with him makes you shiver a little, but he was open to trying whatever you desired. There were more daring things that he liked, such as having his hair pulled, messing around in places where he may get caught, or having you take control. He was learning, after all, about himself, about you, and about sex in general, so who knew what undiscovered things he was into.
You held out your finger and wiggled it between the 2 cakes and shrugged - you couldn't really give a clear answer to that one at the moment.
The Duke slumped back into his chair, staring at you with a devilish look for what felt like minutes. You squinted your eyes at him playfully - what was he thinking?
A few moments later, his hands were held in front of him, parallel to each other as if... to measure something. You shook your head at him in disbelief, sucking on your cheeks to hold back a grin. His hands were probably about 5 inches apart - certainly not big enough for the dragon.
'Bigger,' you mouthed at him and watched as his eyes grew wide. His hands moved apart slightly, perhaps 2 or so inches further apart.
'Bigger,' you mouthed again, the smirk on your face breaking through your facade. His jaw dropped.
'Are you two quite alright?' A deep voice startled you both away from your intense discussion. You hadn't realised that the other two had stopped talking a while ago.
'Never been better actually,' Wriothesley piped up, finally taking his eyes of you to face Neuvillette.
'Were you... having a discussion?' Neuvillette tentatively asked - he's been trying to learn about humans for 500 years, but he had no idea what he just witnessed. 'You two look like crabs trying to communicate,' he added. It almost sounded like an insult in his blunt voice, but you knew he meant that as a fact.
'Oh yes, a very productive, important discussion,' Wriothesley trails off, looking back at you with his brow raised. You gasped quietly at his response,
'Don't you dare-' you threated before he cuts you off, speaking up again, but this time with a face of pure horror,
'Wait! Have you...in here?' His eyes darted around the room as his interrogation continued. You couldn't help but giggle as you nodded, not missing the pure confusion on Neuvillette and Furina's faces.
He let out a dramatic gasp, gripping the armrests on his chair, then pointed at you.
'Jail time,' he jokingly declared. You threw your head back in laughter at his statement, clutching your sides.
'Wriosthesley, are you insinuating my beloved has committed a crime?' The Iudex questioned, his face as serious as if he were in the Opera House. However, you could see the cracks of bewilderment come through.
'Yes - put them on trial for corrupting the Chief Justice,' Wriothesley demanded, standing from his chair and pointing at you. Your laughter grew harder at his performance.
'I have done no such thing!' You declared, almost yelled, back at him. You could see his chest shake from the giggles he was trying to hold back.
'You disgust me. He was innocent before he met you,' he spat out. His words were so forced and dramatised, yet he was smiling? This was making Neuvillette's brain hurt.
'Wriosthesley,' he warned, narrowing his eyes at him - no one spoke to his partner like that, not even his family. Between your laughter, you placed your hand on your partners thigh to comfort him,
'He's just joking, it's ok,' you could see Neuvillette's body soften at your words, although it didn't clear up anything that was going on. Wriothesley sat back down in his chair, shaking his head at you whilst grinning.
'You little minx,' he muttered, picking up his tea cup and taking a sip. The room died down for a few moments, but the atmosphere was thick. You looked towards Furina, who hadn't said a word yet, and saw her cheeks were bright red.
'Monsieur Neuvillette, I-I think they may have been discussing your...private activites with dear (y/n),' she stuttered, picking up her plate of cake and stuffing it into her mouth.
'Oh,' normally you could read your partner easily, but right now you had no idea if he was confused, calm, angry?
'I'm sorr-'
'You could have just asked, Wriothesley.'
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lostbookmark · 3 days
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Read the original story here
Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything. 
Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader
Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort
Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments,  Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself,
A/N : Here is a super small teaser for Whispered Vows. I'm hoping in about 2 weeks or so, I'll feel comfortable enough to start posting. Enjoy!
Entering the code to Yoongi's studio, you watch him as he sits at his desk with big headphones draped over his ears. His head was bobbing up and down to music that he was working on, and the clicking sound of his keyboard filled the quiet room. Closing the door, you walk over to him and gently place your hands on his shoulders, massaging them slowly. He groans, and his head falls forward in pleasure. You can feel his stiff shoulders start to relax under your touch. Sighing, he reaches around the back of his chair and pulls you into his lap. Yoongi takes off his headphones, tosses them gently on his desk, and gives you a quick kiss before resting his head on your shoulder. You run your hands through his dark hair, trying to comfort yourself from the stress of the day.
“How was lunch?” he asked, pulling his head away from you to look you in the eyes.
“There was no lunch. There were, however, five different wedding venues,” you tell him, and he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at you questioningly.
“What? I thought you told your mom to stop that,” he said, eyes drifted back to his screen. His slim fingers go back to clicking away on his mouse.
“I did, but you know that she won't listen,” you say, pulling on the black strings of his hoodie. You twist them tightly around one another and let go just to have them unravel. “One of them held 300 people and cost about 20 thousand dollars.”
“Excuse me?” he says, looking at you with wide eyes. You fully have his attention now. “20,000, 300? Who needs 300 people at a wedding? We are not spending 20k on a venue. A beautiful dress that I get to rip off you at the end of the night…sure.... but not the venue.”
You roll your eyes at him and shove him with your shoulder lightly with a small smile on your face. “Yeah I know, but supposedly it's going to be an extravagant event with a lot of important people. With you being all rich and famous….I have to impress people. I was told we need the best champagne, chandeliers, fondues, and the perfect sunset,” you explain.
“Rich and famous,” he said with a laugh. “That’s just stupid. Unless....is that what you want?” He asks you, eyes flicker between you and the screen .
“Of course not. What do you want?” You counter as your fingers continue to twist the strings of his hoodie.
“I want what you want,” he said distractedly, not even looking at you this time. His fingers continued to click away at his mouse. His focus was back on the crowded screen, which was his computer monitor as he watched colorful waves move across the screen.
Yoongi has been busy. Maybe that's why you haven't set a date or had any details figured out yet. He's been pulling long nights in the studio just to come home a couple of nights a week to sleep for a few hours and shower. He was usually gone by the time you woke up on those nights. The last thing that you wanted to do was bother him with questions about your future wedding. You didn't think centerpieces were high on his priority list right now. He promised you that this was only temporary, but honestly, you're not sure. Several artists that they have signed are growing in popularity, and the demand for songs are coming in strong. He's tired. You can see it in his face, and you can't see this stopping anytime soon.
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lewmagoo · 2 days
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we own the sky | rhett abbott
part one: ain’t no love in oklahoma
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series info: new parts will be uploaded every friday at 7pm est. want more? read the synopsis here. listen to the playlist here. see the posting schedule here.
description: in which you return to the place where you lost everything
warnings: 18+ only, heavy themes, character death, grief, blood and injury, angst with a positive ending, allusions to sex, eventual smut, inaccurate weather terms, please do not check my science lol this story requires some suspension of disbelief. i usually try not to say anything about reader's family in fics but i do mention them having an unnamed great-aunt, as it was necessary to the plot
pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader
notes: this story is inspired by twisters. you do not have to watch the movie in order to understand this story, because aside from the storm chasing aspect, it has nothing to do with the twister universe. i've been working on this story for 2 months straight, and it is my pride and joy. i am so excited for everyone to read it! without further adieu, here is we own the sky!
You never thought you would return to the place where you lost everything. 
When you left, you had sworn to yourself that you would never come back. This part of your life, the unspeakable tragedy you had endured, had to stay in the past where it belonged. And for six years, you managed to make yourself forget while you moved on with life.
You knew it wasn’t just you who had been affected by what happened. It had touched the lives of multiple people, shattering everything around them. But while they had stayed, you had decided to run. Away from the agony, away from the memories, away from the man you loved. It was better that way. At least, that was what you told yourself. 
Now you found yourself standing in the middle of the rolling plains of the place that you used to live, wisps of tall grass brushing against your legs as the breeze rushed over the earth. It was all so familiar, yet so foreign. You felt so out of place, like an alien that had just descended the sky and landed on Earth for the very first time.
As you bent to pluck a stalk of switchgrass, you were struck with a memory of the day you left. Sprawled out in the long grass, your first love lying at your side. Rhett Abbott. The man you had known since you were mere babies in the church nursery together. Saying goodbye to him was the hardest part of leaving. But in your heart of hearts, you knew this was the way it had to be. You couldn’t look at him without being reminded of all you had lost. Of all he had lost. 
“I wish you’d stay,” his voice, filled with longing, cut into the still morning air. Such a contrast to the chaos that had transpired in recent days.
“You know I can’t,” you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would break, and you would succumb to tears.
“We can figure things out, you an’ me. Work through it together.”
“Rhett–”
“Fuckin’ twister took so much from us. Now you’re leavin’, too.” Defeat was evident in his voice.
You sat up, turning to look down at him. “We talked about this, Rhett. I have to leave.”
He sat up, too, nodding somberly. “Y’don’t have to. You just can’t stand the thought of facin’ reality. So you’re runnin’ from it.” Then he rose to his feet, grass crunching beneath him. “Not all of us have the luxury of bolting when things get tough, honeybee. The rest of us have gotta stay and face it head-on.”
Then he walked away, and you let him, knowing this would be the last time you would see him. A love lost. 
Yet here you were again, in the same field where your romance had ended. However, you weren’t here to see him. You had returned to tie up loose ends, and face the past you had spent the last handful of years running from.
Rhett had been right about one thing. You needed to face it all head-on. But you weren’t sure if you had the strength to do so.
Being back in your hometown of Wabang, Oklahoma was a surreal experience. Nothing and everything had changed all at once. Dorothy McIntyre still owned Mac’s Diner on Main Street. Mrs. Simmons still tended to her rose garden every single day, keeping it in pristine condition. The local Baptist church still looked exactly the same as the day you left. 
It felt like the town was stuck in time.
But there were also some changes. A new bar had opened up in town. A coffee shop, too, which was quite the upgrade. Even though life was slow moving here, it still continued on, just like it did everywhere else. 
Coming back was never something you thought was in the cards for you, but a handful of your family members had remained here when you left. Including your great-aunt. Sadly, she had recently passed away, and you’d surprised yourself by willingly volunteering to go sort through her belongings and prepare her house to be sold.
You had a good portion of vacation days saved from your job at the National Weather Service Headquarters, and you decided to take them while you had the chance. Instead of going on a fun getaway, you were cleaning out a house that was just a few steps down from a hoarding house. 
Your poor aunt had gotten rather forgetful in her old age, and had let so much clutter accumulate. Her declining physical health and mental capacity had inhibited her from cleaning, and, unfortunately, her children were not the most diligent when it came to looking after their mother, so no one had helped her with clearing any of the clutter when she was alive. 
That was where you came in. And you certainly had your work cut out for you. But you didn’t mind too terribly. You were glad to have a break from work. Monitoring weather was quite literally a 24/7 thing. You loved your job, but you often felt as if you were running about like a chicken with its head cut off.  
Especially now. It was late spring, and the weather had been wild and unkempt. It had a mind of its own, and with all the freak storms ripping through seemingly every state in the US, the National Weather Service was extremely busy. 
And here you were, in the heart of Tornado Alley, which had seen a record-breaking uptick in tornado activity this season. You couldn’t deny that the thought of being here during this season made your anxiety skyrocket. 
Where you lived now, in Maryland, tornadoes weren’t commonplace. They happened, yes, but not nearly as often as they did in your home state of Oklahoma. 
You had once loved studying the phenomenon of twisters. There had been a time when they fascinated you. A time when you chased after them to analyze their data. And then, one terrible, fateful day, while observing one of those vicious twisters, the unthinkable happened. 
Six Years Ago
“This one’s gonna be a big one. I can feel it,” Rhett’s voice was laced with electric excitement. He was a live wire, blue eyes wide and glimmering with his eagerness. 
His excitement rubbed off on you. You loved doing this together. It was what you were meant to do. “I can, too,” you replied with a grin, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 
He leaned in, his gaze flickering to your lips before he ducked his head to kiss you languidly. “Ready to wrangle this twister?” He asked. 
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Could’ya get a room?” Another voice cut across the site, interrupting your moment. 
Rhett scowled as he looked over your shoulder to find his brother approaching. “Just for that, I’m kissin’ her again.” He pulled you in and planted another kiss on you, dialing it up to disgust Perry all the more.
You shoved at Rhett’s chest, giggling when you parted. “Maybe let’s not gross out everyone within a ten-mile radius,” you joked, though you still leaned in to steal one last peck from him. 
“When you two are done neckin’, you might wanna pay attention to the radar. Winds are pickin’ up,” Perry explained, tapping the screen that was currently resting on the tailgate of Rhett’s truck.
“Think this one’s gonna touch down?” Came the voice of Rebecca, Perry’s wife, as she approached, tugging her ball cap down over her blonde ponytail. 
“Look at them clouds. It’s gotta,” Rhett mused, motioning toward the sky. Angry, black clouds roiled in the distance. Perry was right, the wind was picking up. Although it wasn’t cold, it still sent a shiver down your spine.
Lightning crackled across the gray backdrop, and thunder subsequently rumbled in the distance. As you felt the first drops of cool rain, you locked eyes with Rhett. His face broke into a grin.
“Let’s get goin’!” He called out, retrieving his worn felt hat, the one you’d gotten him on his eighteenth birthday, and placing it atop his head. 
You found yourself laughing with glee as you moved to scurry to the passenger seat of his rickety old GMC Sierra that had seen more storms than you could count. As you wrenched the door open, the sound of scrambling footsteps alerted you that someone was approaching quickly. You turned to find Lydia, your best friend, running toward you, her French braids bouncing wildly about.
“Don’t forget this!” She called out, shoving a walkie-talkie into your hand. Her own remained clipped to the waistband of her cargo pants. 
“Thanks!” You replied. “You riding with us or with Perry and Bec?”
“I’ll ride with them, since they’ve got more room and all,” she told you. Unlike Rhett’s truck, Perry’s had a backseat.
“Okay, see you after the storm. Be careful, alright?” You surged forward and gave her a quick hug. Your friendship went way back to childhood, when you had met each other in kindergarten. You had been inseparable ever since. With your shared fascination with the weather, it was only natural that she would decide to chase twisters alongside you.
“Let’s go to that new ice cream place when we’re done!” She suggested when you parted. 
“Sure, I’ll mention it to Rhett. See ya in a bit!” With that, you yanked the truck door open and climbed inside, while Lydia rushed off to get into Perry’s truck. 
As you settled in the seat, you set your walkie down in the cupholder and grabbed the monitor you used to keep an eye on the weather radar. There, at the top of the screen, you saw the red banner that listed which counties had just been put under tornado watches. 
Glancing back up at the sky, your heart quickened in your chest. While it wasn’t guaranteed that a twister would touch down, it was a very high possibility, especially with the string of storms that had ripped through the area lately. 
“Let’s go chase this son’bitch,” Rhett murmured as he settled into the driver’s seat, tugging his seatbelt into place. He turned the key, and the truck roared to life. Without wasting a single moment, he threw the gear into drive and peeled out of the vacant lot you’d all been congregating in. 
He kept to the east of the storm, offering you the best vantage point. Most storms moved northeast, at thirty to forty miles per hour, so you had to move fast to keep up. Rhett stepped on the accelerator, wasting no time. He was vibrating with adrenaline beside you, and it was infectious. 
He always had been a bit of an adrenaline junkie. When he was in high school, he’d started bull riding competitively. He loved the thrill, the danger, the electricity he felt atop a thousand-pound animal. 
Chasing twisters was similar to bull riding. Trying to hold on for dear life as an angry, churning force threatened to toss you through the air like a rag doll. Once he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough. 
His love of the thrill and your fascination with weather made you a dream team. 
Turning it into a family affair wasn’t necessarily the goal, but Rebecca found the phenomenon of tornadoes fascinating, and Perry was simply along for the ride, so the four of you started storm chasing together. 
And of course, Lydia had been on board from the moment you suggested it. Much like Rhett, she also loved thrill seeking, and was content to join your little team. She was particularly good at analyzing storm data. Her entire motivation was figuring out how twisters worked. 
Meteorology was a science that was relatively new. While the study of weather itself had been around for millennia, it didn’t quite progress until scientists began utilizing computers to analyze meteorological data. 
Even with all the progress that had been made, tornadoes were difficult to study. Things like hurricanes and tropical storms were easier to predict and monitor. But not twisters. They were wild, uncontrollable beasts that could touch down at any moment and wreak all sorts of havoc in mere seconds.
Lydia wanted to learn all she could about the phenomena, and so did you. Your shared interest allowed you to work very well together. 
You were so grateful for the little group you worked with. Four people you loved very much. You’d known Rhett, Perry, and Lydia your entire life, of course, and Rebecca was a newer addition. She’d joined you in the last five years, but she was an excellent asset with her history as a news meteorologist. 
What a merry band of storm chasers you were, heading into the face of danger, hoping to encounter one of the most mysterious weather anomalies in existence. 
“How’s she lookin’, darlin’?” Rhett asked, one hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh lovingly. 
You gazed down at the screen in your lap, paying attention to the large highlighted region that showed which direction the storm was moving. The severity was mounting. 
“Pretty intense,” you answered. Then, as if on cue, the telltale sound of hailstones began to patter against the roof of the truck. Your face broke into a grin. 
Over the walkie, Lydia’s voice could be heard. “We’ve got hail!” She cried in excitement. 
The shift in temperature was a good sign. These were peak conditions for a tornado to form in. You grabbed the hand Rhett had placed on your leg, giving it a squeeze. He squeezed right back. 
Moments later, the hail died down, and you opened the truck window, listening. A crack of thunder in the distance. And then, a split second of utter silence. 
The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 
You turned your head, looking straight at Rhett. The blue of his eyes was bright as could be, shining with anticipation. 
And then, just beyond him, you saw it. 
“Holy shit.”
He glanced to his left and saw it too. A few hundred yards from you, in the open fields, a funnel cloud had begun to form. Your eyes never left it, staring at the sky, willing the funnel to touch down. 
“Come on, come on, come on.”
“We got touchdown yet?!” Rhett asked, eyes half on the road, half on the funnel. 
Almost there. Almost there. Almost there. 
And then, all at once, it made contact with the ground. Lydia was shouting through the walkie, and you grabbed the device to answer her. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your teeth chattering as adrenaline began to course through you. 
What a beautiful sight it was. Terrifying and destructive, but beautiful. 
“Goddamn, look at that,” Rhett breathed in awe. He kept his foot planted firmly on the accelerator, maintaining a fast pace, staying just ahead of the swirling tunnel of wind. 
But your spirit of wonder soon dissipated as you noticed something. “It looks like it’s getting bigger,” you remarked. The change was obvious. It was covering more ground. Moving faster and faster. 
Within seconds, your entire life was turned upside down. 
“Oh my God. Rhett…” Your voice failed you, coming out as more of a whisper. You gripped his arm, and he quickly brought both hands to the steering wheel, knuckles white. 
He gazed out at the approaching swirl, and he knew he was no longer chasing the storm. No, this time, the tides had turned. 
Now it was time to run. 
You scrambled for the walkie-talkie, fingers closing around the plastic, but it flew out of your hands as Rhett slammed on the brakes. You let out a yelp as you plummeted forward, seatbelt stopping you from hitting the dashboard. 
“We gotta find cover!” He shouted, throwing the gear into park and unbuckling his own seatbelt. His face was awash with fright, pale as could be. He pointed to your right. “Old Miller property’s over there. Maybe we can make it to the storm cellar!”
Terror-stricken, you scrambled to open your door, tumbling out onto the asphalt. As soon as you righted yourself, Rhett was grabbing you, hand tight on your bicep, dragging you across the road. Your boots crunched against gravel, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the roar of the wind.
It was so close you could feel it tugging at your clothes. A vortex threatening to swallow you whole. If it overtook you, you’d never make it out alive. 
Together, you dashed across an old wheat field, straight for the Miller farm. It had been abandoned for years, but the storm shelter remained, and it was your best chance at survival. 
You could see it just up ahead, jutting slightly from the ground. But your legs ached, and your lungs burned like fire as you struggled to take in gulps of air. So close yet so far. Just a little further. 
You’d never been so terrified in your life. You understood now what people meant when they said their life flashed before their eyes. Yours did at that moment, as you ran alongside the man you loved. 
Images of your family, memories of all the good times you’d had with Rhett, flashes of laughing and singing and being young and foolish and so full of wonder. Was it all for naught? 
“C’mon, baby! We’re almost there!” His desperate shout filled your ears. He yanked you toward him and you nearly lost your footing, and for one horrifying moment, you thought you were going to fall, but Rhett caught you in his strong arms, continuing on across the field. 
By the grace of the Almighty, you made it to the shelter. Rhett threw himself down, lifting the iron bar that was fastened across the rusted doors. Hinges squealed as he heaved them open, and he pulled you forward, urging you down the rickety old ladder into the abyss below. 
You scrambled down, and he followed, slamming the door shut as he did so. When you reached the end of the ladder, your feet hit the floor unsteadily, and you yelped as your foot gave out beneath you, ankle twisting painfully. But your injury was the least of your worries. 
In the inky darkness, Rhett landed beside you and reached out, grabbing you, pulling you close. 
“Rhett!” You sobbed, burying your face against his chest as he cautiously guided you away from the overhead doors. 
“I’ve got you!” He assured you, holding you tightly. He pulled you both to the damp ground, and you curled up beneath him as he laid his body atop your own. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
He held you, his large hands covering your ears as the violent storm raged above you. 
Often, tornadoes were described as sounding like a freight train, and you would agree with that statement, having witnessed so many of them. But right now, as you huddled beneath the ground right below the savage phenomenon, it didn’t sound like a train at all. 
It sounded like the world was coming to an end. 
You weren’t entirely certain how long you stayed down there, pressed against the earth, as Rhett shielded you. It felt like hours. Days. Weeks. 
And then, all at once, it stopped. 
The world went quiet again. Nature went back to its natural order. The danger had passed. 
You laid there for a few moments, both of you breathing hard, hearts racing. You were trembling. So was he. But you were alive. 
“Are you okay?” Rhett asked as he lifted his body from yours, kneeling beside you. 
You sat up, trying to find your voice. “Y-yeah. Are you?”
“I’m fine,” he breathed. 
And then, “Oh my God. Perry, Bec and Lydia!”
You hurried to stand, and Rhett grabbed your arm, leading you both through the dark, feeling for anything that might be in your path. Once he’d grabbed onto the ladder, he ascended it first, grunting as he reached up to open the doors. 
Daylight flooded the cellar, and you shielded your eyes for a moment before you took hold of the ladder yourself and began climbing. 
As you both emerged, the sight you were met with was harrowing. The old Miller farmhouse was entirely decimated, blown flat to the ground like a house made of popsicle sticks. The barn was destroyed, too, pieces of red painted wood littering the surrounding property. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. That had to be an EF4. Maybe even a five,” Rhett said in utter disbelief, his eyes wide, jaw slacken. 
A sob tore itself from your throat as you turned, fully taking in the level of damage around you. There was seemingly no sign of Perry’s truck. 
“Do you think they found cover?” You asked, voice trembling. 
Rhett’s face was grim, but he still said, “‘m sure they did, they’re smart, they’re probably just hunkerin’ down in a ditch somewhere.” Then he grasped your hand. “Let’s head out to the road and see if we can fine ‘em.”
You intertwined your fingers with his and followed, but your stomach was in knots. What if your friends had been consumed by the storm? What if they were dead?
As you walked, you both called out for them, hoping they’d hear and yell back. But your voices bounced off of the eerily silent countryside. Such a contrast to the chaos that had just transpired. 
“They can’t have gone too far. They were right behind us,” Rhett spoke. You could hear the distress in his voice, although he was trying to keep himself steady for you. 
You scanned the horizon, and that’s when you saw it. A long ways off, the silhouette of an overturned truck could be seen. Perry’s truck. 
“Rhett,” came your whisper. 
“I see it.”
Together, you broke into a run, sprinting across the road and into the field on the other side. Faster and faster, desperate to see what was inside the truck. Praying it was empty, that your friends had found cover. 
You came to a stop once you were within a few feet of the truck, and Rhett held out his arm, glancing back at you as he caught his breath. “Just wait, I’ll check,” he told you. 
You shook your head, breathing still labored. “No, let’s look together.”
Holding his gaze, a beat passed before he reached for your hand again. Together, you cautiously approached the truck, which was turned onto its side. It was severely battered, damaged beyond repair. 
As you rounded the front, you peered down into the window and your blood ran cold. “Oh dear God.”
Rhett jumped into action, climbing atop the side of the truck. The driver's side glass was shattered, allowing him to reach in. “Per!” He exclaimed, gripping his brother’s shirt, tugging him upward. “Perry!”
But he got no response. The man was unconscious. A nasty gash marred the side of his head, crimson blood trickling down his face. He was terribly pale.
Beneath him, Rhett could see Rebecca. His heart sank like a rock. Just from the way she was positioned, he could tell she was not going to fare well. He couldn’t see if her chest was rising and falling or not. And when he squinted to look into the back seat, he saw Lydia, slumped over, but he couldn’t tell if she was dead or just merely unconscious.  
“Are they alive?!” You couldn’t tell from your vantage point. All you could see was Perry and Rebecca. If Lydia was still in the truck, she was concealed in the back. 
“I-I can feel a pulse, but Perry’s bleedin’ real bad. Call 911!” He didn’t give you any information about the girls. 
“Rhett, the girls! Are they—”
“Just call an ambulance!” He repeated with urgency. 
You did as you were told, hurrying to grab your phone from your pocket, hands shaking fiercely as you dialed the emergency number. You prayed you would get an answer, knowing the call lines would be flooded after the storm. 
Moments later, an operator answered. Panicked, you explained your situation, begging them to send help. The woman remained calm, asking for your name and location, assuring you that assistance was on the way. You had no recollection of what you said to her. Everything was a blur, adrenaline giving you tunnel vision.
After you hung up the phone, Rhett jumped down from the truck. You threw yourself into his arms as he neared you, tears spilling down your cheeks. “They said they’re on their way,” you whimpered. 
He hugged you close, and you could feel the way he trembled. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to pull him out. The EMTs should be the ones to do it, just in case anythin’ is broken.” While that was partially true, he was also terrified that if he started pulling everyone out, he’d find the girls were dead. It would bring reality crashing down upon him. The thought made his gut churn with dread, and he found himself praying to a God he didn’t even believe in, asking Him to spare his brother and his sister-in-law, and your dearest friend Lydia. 
It took longer than usual, because so many ambulances had already been dispatched to aid those harmed in the storm. But as time ticked on, the more worried you became. “I’m scared,” you whimpered.
Rhett held you tighter, resting his cheek atop your head. He felt so powerless. “I know. Me too.”
Moments later, the wail of emergency vehicle sirens could be heard. Multiple ambulances and a firetruck approached, all pulling into the grass toward the scene. Rhett let you go, the two of you jogging ahead to meet the first responders.
“There’s three of ‘em in the truck!” Rhett exclaimed, “they’re all unconscious, from what I could tell!”
“We’ll get them out!” One of them assured you both. 
You watched as they all rushed toward the truck, firefighters and EMTs alike. Helplessly, you remained on the sidelines, clinging to Rhett, fingers clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. 
He wanted to tell you they’d be okay. That everything was going to be fine, that your friends were unharmed. But in his heart, he knew nothing would ever be okay again. 
Perry was pulled from the vehicle first, still unconscious. Together, you watched as he was placed on a gurney, where an EMT hurriedly checked his vitals, searching for life. 
“I’ve got a pulse, but it’s weak!” The young woman shouted. 
He was alive. That was a good sign, right? Maybe it meant the girls were alright as well. You could only hope. 
A saw was taken to the door, and it was removed so that the inside of the truck was more easily accessible. Then they pulled Rebecca out. She was so still, unresponsive as she was hauled down to a second gurney. 
You heard a voice shout that they couldn’t find a pulse. 
You placed your hand over your mouth, a grieved whimper escaping your throat. Rhett’s name slipped past your lips, and you buried your face in his chest, unable to watch. You could hear his sharp intake of breath. 
Then Lydia was pulled from the wreckage. While you kept your face hidden against Rhett, he watched on, and he knew, just from the sight of her, that she was gone.
His grip tightened on you. It felt as if a dagger had been plunged into his chest. He sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, his eyes falling shut for a moment as the weight of what was happening settled upon him. 
You lifted your head at that very moment, and you turned, realizing your best friend had been taken out of the truck. On instinct, you tried to pull away from Rhett. Tried to run toward the scene, to see for yourself if Lydia was alright. 
But Rhett held you back. “No,” he told you. 
“Let me go, I need to see if she’s okay!”
He repeated himself. “No.” He would not release you, no matter how hard you struggled. 
Tears blurred your vision. “Rhett, please! I need to know if she’s alive!” 
He grabbed both of your shoulders and looked right into your eyes. “Darlin’, stop! Just let ‘em do their jobs!” He didn’t want you near it. Didn’t want you to witness death up close and personal like that. It would haunt you forever. 
Your knees buckled, and he caught you as you fell into him, wailing from the weight of your pain. Brokenhearted, Rhett cradled you in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut as his own tears made their way down his cheeks. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t real. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. 
And then one of the sheriff’s deputies was approaching. Linden Haynes. “You two need an escort to the hospital?” He asked, voice low. Knowing you’d both want to go in support of your friends. 
Rhett nodded, trying to find his voice. “Yeah…yeah. Thanks. I, uh, don’t know where my truck got blown to.”
Linden hummed, his face sympathetic. “No problem. We’ll find your truck somewhere. Once things calm down, I can see if we can get some deputies searchin’ for it.” He moved to walk away, motioning for you both to follow. 
“Linden, are…are they okay?” you heard yourself speak. 
He turned, trying to mask his expression, but you could see it in his eyes. He had witnessed the wreckage firsthand. He’d seen the EMTs and firefighters rescuing your friends. He knew. 
“Let the docs and nurses at the hospital tell you that, they’ll know more than me,” was his response.
Defeated, you followed him to his squad car, your body still leaning into Rhett. You climbed into the backseat together, and as soon as you were settled, you buried your face in your hands, trying desperately to hold yourself together. But you were unraveling, and the dread was threatening to swallow you whole. 
The hospital was in a frenzy when you arrived. So many people hurt in the storm. You heard murmurs of the tornado being an EF5, which made your eyes go wide as you looked at Rhett. It was a wonder you’d even made it to safety. 
Sitting there in that hospital waiting room was the most excruciating moment of your life. Hoping your friends would survive. Knowing that they might not. 
Rhett was on the verge of potentially losing his brother. And while his relationship with Perry had been tumultuous over the years, he cared about him deeply, and couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him. 
You sat side by side on vinyl-covered chairs, holding each other’s hands in a death grip, startling anytime a doctor or nurse walked by, thinking one of them was coming to give you an update. 
Finally, an update did come. 
You had no recollection of ending up on the floor. But there you were, crumbled against the cool tile as Rhett tried to console you, while simultaneously wracked with grief himself. 
They were dead. Lydia and Rebecca. They were dead, and they had been since they were pulled from the wreckage. Perry, however, was alive, but just barely holding onto life. 
The doctor was a family friend. He offered to contact yours and Rhett’s respective families. It was all a bur. And then you found yourself in Perry’s hospital room, which was stone silent, filled with dreadful anticipation. 
Your memory of that day was patchy at best. Your brain had filtered out some of the more traumatic parts, forcing you to forget. The weight of your anguish made it feel as if you were underwater, being pulled down by a cinder block tied to your ankle. No matter how hard you pedaled, you couldn’t come back up to the surface. 
Late into the night, Perry succumbed to his injuries, too. He slipped away, with his family surrounding him. Worst of it all? His four-year-old daughter was left an orphan in the wake of her parents’ deaths. 
You lost a piece of yourself when three of the dearest people in your life were taken from you. It sent both you and Rhett into a spiral. He blamed himself. You blamed yourself. It was something you could not move past. Every time you looked at him, it was a reminder of that fateful day a twister took everything from you. 
You couldn’t bear it any longer. So you ran. You left Rhett. You left all you had ever known. And you told yourself you would never come back. 
Present Day
Until now. 
You were hoping to go undetected. You weren’t sure if you could handle seeing anyone from your past. Least of all Rhett. With the way you left things between you and him, you doubted he wanted to see you anyway. 
But you should have known you couldn’t hide forever. 
You had been planning to stay in your aunt’s house while you were in town, but when you arrived and saw the dire state it was in, you realized sleeping there wasn’t feasible. So you decided to stay at the only motel in town. 
Before checking in, you needed to stop by the store to buy a few necessities that you had forgotten to pack. You wondered if anyone would recognize you. Had you changed much physically over the last six years? You thought you had, but maybe others wouldn’t notice the change. 
You managed to slip into the store without being recognized. You went about your entire shopping trip, remaining anonymous. You paid for your things without a single soul uttering your name. But just when you thought you were home free, you saw someone who made you stop dead in your tracks for the briefest of moments. 
Cecilia Abbott. 
Your heart rate picked up, anxiety sizzling through your veins like a live wire. She hadn’t seen you yet, too busy bagging her groceries to notice. Perhaps, if you were quick enough, you could evade her and make your escape. 
You almost did, too. Until you heard the sound of your name being called. 
You flinched, pausing for a moment, debating whether you should keep going. But then she was descending upon you and you had nowhere else to go. 
“It can’t be! After all these years?!” The woman exclaimed. 
Slowly, you turned around, trying your best to put on a pleasant expression, masking your look of distress. “Cece, hi!” You greeted. You had no idea how this was going to go. Would she be angry at you for walking out on her son? Would she welcome you back to town with open arms?
She stared at you in disbelief, shopping bag balanced in the crook of her elbow. “Goodness, how long’s it been?” But she knew how long it had been. She never lost count of how many years had passed since the death of her child. 
“Six years,” you heard yourself reply. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. 
“Wow. I can’t believe it.” Cecilia shook her head. “It’s almost like seein’ a ghost! Never thought you’d come back.”
“I didn’t either. But I, uh…I’m here cleaning out my aunt’s place.”
Her face softened, and she shifted, leaning toward you. “I’m sorry. She’ll be missed around here, that’s for sure. S’ a good thing you’re takin’ on the responsibility of cleanin’ that house, though. She did let it go in her old age.”
You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, she really wasn’t there mentally the last few years of her life. It’s sad. But, I’m hoping to have the house looking good as new when I’m done with it.”
Cecilia shifted her bag of groceries to her other hand. “Say, you got a place to stay while you’re in town?” 
“I was going to stay at the house, but it’s too much of a disaster. I’m just gonna get a motel room.” 
You should have known what she would say next. Gasping, she reached out and touched your arm. “Nonsense! You should come stay at our house!”
Your eyes widened. She wasn’t serious, was she? After all that had transpired? “Oh, I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 
But once Cecilia Abbott’s mind was set on something, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “No imposition at all! Home cooked meals, and a clean bed that doesn’t have bed bugs like that nasty ole motel does. The Bed Bug Inn, that’s what everyone calls it. Plus, we’re not that far from your aunt’s, just down the road. Closer than the motel is.”
She did have a point. But you couldn’t fathom the thought of stepping back onto the Abbott property again. You couldn’t face the demons you’d left there. “Cece, I appreciate it, but—”
“I insist. You at least need to come for dinner! I’m makin’ roast tonight, y’know, the one Rhett always loved? If you decide you still don’t want to stay after that, that’s fine. But you have to let me feed ya, I’m not gonna let you go hungry, girl.”
At the mention of Rhett’s name, your breath caught in your chest. “Oh, um… Rhett, how is he?” Your voice raised a little in pitch, and you cleared your throat. 
“He’s fine. Still livin’ in the house with us, but he’s gone all the time. Storm chasin’ business keeps him busy.”
He was still chasing? “I can’t believe he’s still going after storms,” you spoke in disbelief. 
Cecilia shrugged. “He never lost his love for it,” she mused. For a moment, there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was remembering something. Likely the way she had lost her son to the very thing Rhett loved doing. 
Then she snapped out of it. “Anyway, come over for supper! Five o’clock!” Without giving you a chance to protest, she turned on her heel and bustled out of the store, leaving you with no choice but to take her up on her offer. You didn’t want to offend her by not showing up. 
But could you handle it? Stepping back into the past, into a version of yourself that you had not been in six years. You thought of Amy, Perry and Rebecca’s daughter. She would be nine years old by now. Would she even remember you? Would she blame you for the death of her parents?
Surely not. She had been four when they died. You doubted a four-year-old had the emotional or mental wherewithal to blame you for the loss of her parents.
But it wasn’t Amy you were afraid to be reunited with. Not really. You were utterly terrified at the thought of seeing Rhett again. Would he be happy to see you? Would he be angry? Hurt? Confused? What would he say to you? How would you respond?
All these questions swirled through your mind as you sauntered back to your car. Maybe he wouldn’t even be home. But if you chose to stay at the Abbott’s, you would likely run into him at some point. Besides, you weren’t sure how long you were going to remain in town. You felt like you were taking advantage of Cecilia’s kindness. So, you determined that you would only go over for dinner. You would not stay the night.
With that thought in mind, you climbed into your car and headed back to your aunt’s house. 
A few hours later, you were back in your car all over again, thrumming with anxiety, wondering if you were making the right decision. It would be so easy to turn back around, but you forced yourself to continue on, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.
When you turned into the Abbott farm, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia so intense you slowed your car to a stop, staring at the house in the distance. It was the same as it had always been. A cozy house boasting of a well-kept garden, a bran off to the left with a nice coat of bright red paint. Chickens milled about the yard. Horses played in the field. Cows lowed in the distance. 
It still felt like home.
With a deep breath, you eased off the brake and urged your car down the long driveway. As you parked near the house, you caught sight of a young girl with honey-colored hair, swinging on the rope swing that was tied to the tree in the front. 
Your heart clenched in your chest. She’d grown so much. It was a reminder that life had continued in your absence. 
Upon seeing you, she hopped down, eyes alight with joy. “Gramma! Gramma!” She called, rushing into the house to alert Cecilia to your arrival.
You took a moment to steel yourself before you climbed out of the car, shoes crunching against dirt and gravel as you approached the porch. As you ascended the steps, you were once again greeted by the little girl. Amy.
“Hi!” She exclaimed. “I’m Amy. Gramma says you can come on in!”
You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Hi, Amy. It’s been a long time. Last time I saw you, you were this big!” You held your hand low, indicating her size.
“I don’t really remember you. But Gramma and Grampa do. They said you and Uncle Rhett used to date.”
You were slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. “Uh, yeah…yeah, we did. That was a long time ago though.”
Amy shrugged. “I wish he was still dating you. You’re super pretty!” 
“Oh…thank you!” Was all you could say in reply. She certainly was prone to saying whatever came to mind. However, she moved on from it quickly, motioning you inside.
“C’mon!” She said, waving you on, and you moved to follow her, stopping at the door to take your shoes off before you ambled into the kitchen. 
The smell of food cooking made your stomach growl, and you realized only then that you were very hungry. A home-cooked meal would do you some good.
At the sound of your footsteps, Cecilia turned, her face lighting up at the sight of you. “You made it! I’m so glad. Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”
You smiled softly, nodding your head. “Is there anything I can do to help?” You wanted to make yourself useful, rather than standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. 
“You can help me set the table!” Amy chirped, already walking to the table with her arms full of plates. 
“Silverware’s in the drawer to the right of the sink,” Cecilia reminded you. But you remembered from the countless dinners you had been a part of here.
With a nod, you moved to gather enough cutlery for everyone, and as Amy set each plate down, you folded a napkin and placed the silverware upon it. You fell into a rhythm, stopping only to grab drinking glasses from the cupboard.
You noticed that the number of place settings was five. That had to mean Rhett was also joining the family for dinner, unless it was a place for someone else. You wanted to ask Cecilia if he was coming, but didn’t want to make things awkward, so you left it alone.
You were kept busy as she handed you different serving dishes full of various foods to put on the table. As you placed a basket of dinner rolls amongst the rest of the food, the sound of the back door opening caught your attention.
Your heart leapt in your chest, and you lifted your head, expecting to see Rhett. Instead, you were met with Royal’s look of surprise. Cecilia looked over at him and motioned to the sink. “Wash up, supper’s ready. We’ve got a guest.”
He nodded as he hung his hat on the peg on the wall, pausing to take off his muddy boots. “I’ll be damned,” he remarked, directing it at you. “Didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Saw her at the market today, so I invited her over. Didn’t tell ya because you an’ Rhett have been in that darn pasture with no signal all day.”
Royal hummed gruffly as he walked over to the sink to wash his hands. “Storm wiped that fence clean out. We had to replace every last post,” he sighed, “took us all day.”
“S’why we need to hire some hands, Roy,” Cecilia lowered her voice, but you still heard her.
Clearly this was something they talked about frequently, because he huffed and shook his head. But he didn’t continue the potential argument. Instead, he turned, drying his hands on a towel. His eyes regarded you kindly. “Been a long time,” he murmured. “Good to see you.”
You managed a smile. “Good to see you too.”
“Rhett on his way?” Cecilia questioned as she placed the final platter on the table.
Again, your heart fluttered anxiously at the mention of his name.
Royal nodded, pulling out the chair at the head of the table and taking a seat. “Yeah, he’s right behind me, he was just puttin’ up the horses.”
“Alrighty, we’ll wait to say grace until he comes in then.”
There it was again, that deep feeling of utter nostalgia. Cecilia had always been a religious woman, and not a meal went by where she didn’t pray over the food. That aspect hadn’t changed at all.
“You can sit here!” Amy announced, patting an open chair next to Royal. “Me and Uncle Rhett will sit across from you.”
You’d have to look into his face. You wouldn’t be able to hide your expressions from him. Rhett had always been so perceptive, more so than anyone gave him credit for. He was always considered to be aloof by those who didn’t bother to get to know him, but you knew that was far from the truth. 
There had been a time when you knew him like the back of your hand. You wondered just how much he’d changed, if at all. 
Just as you took your seat at the table, the squeak of the screen door opening filled the room, and the scrape of boots against linoleum followed. Seconds later, there he was. Blue flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows. Same brown hat he’d had since he was a teenager, which he pulled from his head to place on the hat peg. 
“Uncle Rhett! Uncle Rhett! We have a guest!” Amy exclaimed. 
He hadn’t turned yet. Didn’t know you were there. “Who’s that, li’l pea?”
“Your old girlfriend!” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
He saw you then, and his eyes went wide. You swore the clock hanging over the sink stopped, causing time to stand still. Everyone else in the room faded into the background as Rhett became your sole focus.
Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, as if someone had taken their hands and squeezed the air right out of your lungs. In the background, you heard Cecilia talking, likely explaining that she’d seen you at the store and invited you over.
You doubted Rhett heard her, either. He was too busy staring at you.
Seeing him again brought so many overwhelming emotions to the surface. Pain. Sadness. Longing. And suddenly, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. You needed to bolt. 
Abruptly, you stood up, silently cursing yourself for your dramatics. “I–I’m so sorry, this was a mistake,” you squeaked, the legs of your chair scraping against the floor as you scrambled away from the table. 
And then you were fleeing. Just like you had six years ago. 
But this time, Rhett wasn’t going to let you go that easy. Shaking himself out of his momentary shock, his feet moved beneath him, carrying him after you. “Go ‘head an’ eat! I’m gonna talk to her!” He called over his shoulder to his family.
He threw open the front door, lurching out onto the porch. You were already at your car, wrenching the door open. “Wait!” He called out, dashing down the steps.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t want him to see. 
“Would ya just– just stop!” He reached out, hand against your door, impeding you from opening it. 
“Let go of my door, please.” You were surprised you had it in yourself to speak.
“Not until you look at me.”
You were afraid you’d fall apart if you did. “Rhett, please.”
A beat passed. Then another. You could feel his body heat, he was standing so close. You could smell the sweat and dirt that clung to him after a hard day’s work. But there was something else, too. Something sweeter. Like freshly baled hay. 
Against your better judgment, you found yourself turning, drawn to him like a magnet. Your eyes finally met his, and you gasped softly. They were even bluer than you remembered. So clear and bright. 
But there was so much emotion there, too. It swam within his irises, and you saw the glint of gathering tears. He drank in the sight of you, and his chest heaved as he took in a breath, then another. “I…I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered, as if speaking louder would cause his voice to fail him.
“Me too,” you agreed, as quiet as he was. There was so much you wanted to say. But most importantly, there were a few words he needed to hear. “I’m so sorry, Rhett.” You succumbed to your tears, as they slid down your cheeks in hot trails. 
His bottom lip quivered slightly, and he shook his head. “No, I…I should apologize. I shoulda been more understandin’. You were grievin’, same as me, and I wasn’t letting you do it in your own way. I made you feel like you had to run away, and I’m sorry.”
“Is that what you think? That it was your fault?” Your voice trembled. 
He shrugged, sniffling softly. “S’what I always assumed. Thought it had to be somethin’ I did.”
The thought of him living with that these last several years made your heart ache. “It was never your fault. It was me. I couldn’t face what happened. I thought…if I left, it would be easier. I could move on faster.”
Being reassured that it wasn’t his fault made him relax slightly, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. But there was still a shadow of sadness on his face. “Was it easier?”
At that, you shook your head, scoffing slightly. “No. Honestly, I think leaving you made it worse. I’m so sorry I did that to you. I’ve never really been able to forgive myself for it.”
“Guess we both have a lotta things we couldn’t forgive ourselves for,” he murmured. Then he bowed his head for a moment, gathering himself before looking at you again. “For what it’s worth, I ain’t holding it against you. Losin’ the three of them was the hardest fuckin’ thing we ever had to go through. I don’t blame you for leavin’ to see if it would make you feel better. You did what you thought you had t’ do.”
A fresh wave of tears welled in your eyes. “Oh, Rhett.” Without a second thought, you found yourself moving forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was caught by surprise for only a moment, and then his own arms, strong and steady, came up to encircle your waist. 
You stood there in the middle of the driveway, holding each other for what felt like hours. When you parted, you were both wiping at tear-streaked cheeks. 
“S’good to see you again, by the way,” Rhett said. “I mean it.”
“It’s good to see you too,” you replied honestly. Now that your initial upset was out of the way, you realized it felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. 
“What, uh, what are you doin’ back in town?”
“Cleaning out my great-aunt’s place,” came your answer, and he nodded in realization. “I ran into your mom at the store today, she invited me over. I didn’t really want to come, I was scared to face you again.”
He hummed in understanding. “She knew what she was doin’. She wanted us to talk. She’s a meddler like that.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. 
You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself. “I should’ve known it was a ruse. She’s convincing, that’s for sure. She’s also watching us right now.”
When Rhett turned, he found his whole family watching through the front window. Upon seeing him turn, they all rushed away from the window, dropping the curtain. 
He faced you again, and there was a smile on his face. “I’m glad she convinced ya, then. Can’t tell you how good it feels to clear the air after all this time. Losin’ you was rough on me, but I’m happy you’re back, even if it’s only for a small visit.” 
“I’m happy too. And I’m happy you stopped me from leaving this time.”
His eyes twinkled like stars, and he nodded toward the house. “Wanna head back in for supper?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Together, you walked back into the house. While there was so much you had missed in your time apart, and so much you still needed to reconcile with each other, you were relieved that the air was clear for the time being. You hadn’t expected Rhett to welcome you back with open arms, but you were thankful he had. 
It broke your heart that he had spent so much time believing he was to blame. It was your own inability to face your grief that was the culprit, not this sweet, blue-eyed cowboy. Never him. But maybe there was a new beginning between you. A chance to let the past remain where it belonged. 
When you stepped into the kitchen and took your seat at the table, the trio was pretending they hadn’t just been spying on you and Rhett. However, it was Amy who gave it away, giggling behind her hand. 
“You guys’re menaces,” Rhett grumbled as he placed a serving of potatoes on his plate. 
Cecilia tried to hide her smile, though ultimately failing. She looked at you, and her gaze was kind. “I’m sorry. Maybe I was a little…overzealous about makin’ sure you and Rhett saw each other again. But it worked, didn’t it?”
You couldn’t hold it against her. Without her meddling, you never would have spoken to Rhett. You likely would have done what you came to do and left town without a single glance in his direction. 
Cecilia had known that it was a chance for you to reconcile with Rhett. Holding on to something that happened years ago wasn’t healthy. She saw the opportunity to ease her son’s pain, and yours, and she took it. Thankfully, it had worked out in her favor. 
You couldn’t believe it had been that easy to reconcile with him. Even after you’d stormed off, upset, he’d still been willing to talk to you. It spoke volumes of his growth. Past Rhett wasn’t very good at communicating. But present Rhett seemed to have gotten much better at it. 
Dinner passed without a hitch, although there was still some slight tension. No one spoke of Perry, Rebecca, or Lydia. You got the sense that Royal and Cecilia were avoiding the subject. Likely because Amy was present. You had no idea how much she knew about that day, but you had no desire to bring it up. 
Conversation instead shifted to what you were doing with your life. 
“Where you workin’ now?” Royal asked, leaning back so that Cecilia could take his plate and clear the table in preparation for dessert. She’d denied your offer of help, insisting you sit and talk, because you were a guest. 
“I work for the National Weather Service, up in Silver Spring, Maryland.”
“No kiddin’?” He replied, eyes glimmering with intrigue. “What d’ya do there?”
You took a sip of your water before you answered. “I’m an analyst. I analyze weather data from all over the country. I work with a team and we try to predict, as best we can, what the weather is going to look like.”
“Sounds intense,” Rhett spoke up. You glanced over at him. He was leaning back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs. 
Until his mother slapped her dish towel against his arm. “Stop leanin’ back in that chair. The legs’ll give out.” 
He corrected his chair right away. You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. “It is kinda intense. But I love it. Keeps me on my toes,” came your reply. 
“Can’t take the storm chaser outta the girl, huh?” He hummed, catching your eye with a knowing look. 
He was right. Although you’d stopped chasing storms, you still did just that, except it was from a much safer distance this time, through a set of screens. There was no chance of those around you dying grisly deaths brought on by a wicked twister. 
“Guess not,” you finally agreed. 
Before the conversation could continue, Amy happily interrupted, flouncing up to the table to set down a handful of dessert plates. “Gramma made your favorite, Uncle Rhett,” she announced, beaming at him. 
He grinned, pulling her into his side as she squealed. “Did she?” He asked, laughter in his tone as he jabbed his fingers into her sides, while she laughed uncontrollably and tried to wriggle away from him. 
You watched the exchange, and your heart went warm in your chest. But you were also hit with a wave of sadness. This sweet little girl was growing up without a mother and father. These three people in this room were all she had in the world. 
“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, bringing you back to reality. You hadn’t realized that tears were making their way down your cheeks. 
“I…I’m fine,” you answered. 
“Alright, here’s some blackberry pie!” Cecilia’s voice rang across the kitchen, interrupting your moment of melancholy. But you were grateful for the distraction.  
The pie was cut, and everyone was given a slice, along with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and a cup of coffee. Conversation around the table shifted to Amy’s schooling, and she eagerly listed the number of weeks that were left of school. 
But you could feel Rhett’s eyes on you from across the table the entire time. The intensity of his gaze made you feel as if he could see right into your soul. That was how it had always been. Looking at him felt like staring into the sun, at times. So bright and beautiful, but impossible to stare at. 
That hadn’t changed, even years later. Same intense look. 
When dessert was finished, Amy got up to help Cecilia clear the table. Royal headed upstairs to presumably get ready for bed. And Rhett stepped outside onto the front porch. 
“Can I at least help you clean up for the night, Cece?” You asked, hoping to do something, anything to feel useful. 
“Don’t you lift a finger. Amy and I have got it.” 
“You sure?”
“‘Course I’m sure,” the woman insisted. Then, “Have you given any thought as to if you might stay here?”
You hesitated. “Oh, I, uh…I don’t know. I really don’t want to be a bother.”
She huffed, shaking her head. “I already told ya at the store, it’s no bother! ‘Sides, it’s gonna be dark soon, and it gets so pitch black out here, drivin’ into town isn’t safe. And if you stay, you’d be wakin’ up to a home-cooked breakfast in the mornin’.”
With a sigh, you finally relented. Mostly because you were too tired to argue with her. “You drive a hard bargain. Fine, I’ll stay.” It was a good thing you hadn’t taken your luggage out of the car yet. 
Cecilia beamed. “Then it’s settled.”
“I’ll just go get my stuff from the car,” you remarked, already turning to put your shoes back on. 
“Have Rhett help you. I think he just stepped out onto the porch,” she suggested. 
With a nod, you made your way out the door, hinges squeaking as you stepped onto the porch, shoes thudding lightly against weather-worn wood. 
Sure enough, Rhett was there, seated on the bench near the door. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and he was leaning back, eyes fixed on the sky. 
When you came out, his gaze shifted to you, and he smiled softly. “Hey,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. 
“Hey.” An awkward silence soon followed. There was so much hanging in the air between you both. Words left unsaid. “Your momma asked me to stay the night.”
He hummed, nodding as he looked back out across the sprawling land that was the Abbott farm. “Figured she would. Her and that bleedin’ heart of hers.”
“She suckered me into it with the promise of a home cooked breakfast.”
He scoffed playfully. “You get a home cooked breakfast and I get a piece of fuckin’ toast.”
“I’ll share with you.”
His smile turned into a grin. Then he fell serious. “Speakin’ of sharing, you can sleep in my room.”
At that, you shook your head. “Oh no, that’s asking too much. Isn’t there a pull-out bed in the living room couch? I can sleep there instead. It’s where I used to sleep when I’d stay over, remember?”
“Boy, do I,” he hummed. When you were teenagers, Cecilia was insistent that you did not share a bed if you stayed the night. You’d sleep on the pull-out bed in the living room, far away from Rhett’s bedroom upstairs. It didn’t stop him from sneaking down to talk to you in the middle of the night, though. 
He continued, “But ya already served your time on that old couch. I’ll sleep there. My bed’s all yours.”
“Rhett—”
“Hey now, don’t argue with me. We both know I always win ‘em anyway.” 
You rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest as you shook your head. He was right, after all. He’d always win you over with kisses dispersed all over your face until you relented with laughter. 
“Fine. I’ll take your room then,” you replied. 
He hummed in satisfaction, and silence fell between you again. It felt so strange, being back in his presence. You felt as if you didn’t belong here, on this porch with him in the late spring night. In your anxious imaginations, you had always assumed he’d never reconcile with you, so you never tried to reach out and make things right. 
But all it had taken was one tearful conversation, and a sense of civility had been restored between you. 
“Why did you forgive me so easily?” Came your question, spoken into the quiet air that hummed with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. 
Rhett eyes flickered to you. “Because I spent too long wallowin’ in hurt, and I couldn’t handle carryin’ all of it anymore. I don’t wanna be stuck in the past. I want to move forward. Forgivin’ you is the best way to do that.” Then he added, “plus, I never could stay mad at you. Guess that still holds true to this day.”
Tears welled in your eyes again as you digested his words. You hated that you’d caused him so much pain. If only you’d been able to work through your grief instead of running from it. But that was in the past. There was nothing you could do to change it. However, you could use it to be a better person in the future. 
“I’m sorry I—”
But he held up his hand. “Don’t need to ‘pologize again,” he assured you, gentleness in his tone. 
You closed your mouth and nodded, and then you decided to take a seat next to him. Several minutes of silence passed again. Again, you were the one to break it. 
“I’m glad I decided to come tonight. I almost didn’t take your ma up on it.”
“I’m glad y’ did too.” He turned his body toward you so he could look into your face. “Six years is a long time.”
“It really is. I can’t believe it’s been that long. And Amy…she’s gotten so big.”
“She has. That little girl’s the apple of Mom and Dad’s eye, I’ll tell you what.”
You couldn’t help but smile fondly. “Looks like she’s the apple of yours, too.”
Rhett made a noise of agreement. “I see ‘em in her. Bec and Perry, that is. She’s a bit of a firecracker. Takes after her dad in that way. But she’s smart as a whip, we’re talkin’ wicked smart, like her momma. And some of the things she says, the tone she says them in…god, it sounds just like Bec.”
“It must be so cool to see them live on in her like that,” you whispered. 
“It is. But it’s hard, too. Thinkin’ about the way things would be if they were still here.”
“Does she remember them?”
He shrugged, shifting his gaze to the night sky above you, shimmering with stars. “Bits an’ pieces. She doesn’t remember whole details. Plus she was so small…I don’t rightly know what she pictures in her head when she talks about it.”
Your heart broke for the girl. “Poor thing.”
Rhett nodded his head. “I know. But she’s doin’ alright. Brings a lotta joy into our lives.” Even in the dim light, you could see the way his eyes sparkled with love. Family had always been so important to him. Even more so now that he’d lost part of it. 
You had to swallow the urge to cry. “That’s good.”
A beat passed before Rhett changed the subject, eager to move on to lighter conversation. “So…weather analyst, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 
That drew a shy smile out of you. “It’s no big thing. I have a whole team of people who work with me.”
“It’s a pretty damn big deal to me. You an’ that smart brain of yours. It’s no wonder you want on to work for the fuckin’ National Weather Service.”
At his compliment, you ducked your head, a little embarrassed. “I really like the job. It’s kinda stressful, though. Weather never takes a break like us human beings do.”
“You’re tellin’ me. You shoulda seen the storms that rolled through here last week. One right after another.”
That prompted you to ask the question you’d been dying to know the answer to all night. “Your mom said you’re still chasing.”
Rhett nodded his head as he shifted against the bench, wood creaking beneath his weight. “Yeah. It ain’t just me, either. I’ve got a whole team workin’ with me.”
Your gaze fell to your lap, where your hands were loosely clasped. “Was it…was it hard getting back to it, after they died?” You softly questioned. That was why you’d never gone back to storm chasing. You couldn’t bear the thought of doing so after all you'd lost. 
“Sure was. I didn’t start back up until a year later. That first time I got back out there…man, I almost couldn’t do it. I just kept thinkin’ of them. But then it sorta turned into a way to honor them an’ keep their memory alive. So I’ve been doin’ it ever since.”
“That’s good you were able to get back into it.”
“How ‘bout you? Been out there runnin’ after any storms lately?”
“No,” you answered quickly. The thought made your stomach turn. 
“Y’ should join us next time it storms,” came his suggestion. 
“I’d rather not.” You were hoping he would drop it. 
“C’mon, it’ll be like old times.”
“I don’t want it to be like old times. We lost three of our best friends during old times. I can’t…I can’t face another tornado. I’m scared to death of them now. I’ll never storm chase ever again.” You were on the verge of tears.
He got the message then. “Alright, fair enough. Didn’t mean to upset ya.”
You sighed, shoulders dropping. “You didn’t upset me. It’s just more of a sore subject than I realized,” you said. Then, “and now that I’m back here, I’m so scared more twisters will come through.”
Rhett understood where you were coming from. But he also believed in facing one’s fears. For the most part, at least. There were still some things that filled him with fear that he couldn’t bear to face. 
“More will definitely come. They ain’t been that bad this season so far. Last week was rough though. Had a couple EF3s that hit some neighborin’ towns. We’ve been helpin’ out a lot. The team I’m workin’ with…they’re big into charity. We’ve been able to donate to people who lost their homes. We’re hopin’ to raise enough money to get building supplies that can help rebuild all the damaged homes.”
You raised a brow, surprised. Not over the fact that Rhett wanted to help people in surrounding communities, but over the fact that his team had done so much. That was more than you’d ever been able to do when you were chasing with Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. 
“That’s really amazing,” you remarked. 
“Yeah. Hate seein’ the damage twisters can do, but I’m glad we can at least do somethin’ to help, even if it’s small.”
You had so many more questions about his storm chasing. But you also wanted to change the subject. Your heart was heavy from the old memories going through your mind. So, you asked about another thing that was part of the past.
“Did you ever go back to bull riding?”
Rhett let out a sharp breath, suddenly finding a small tear in his jeans very interesting, fingers sliding over the work fabric. “Hell no.”
“I always wondered about that. If you’d gone back to it after I left.”
“Nah. Never could stomach the thought of gettin’ back on one of them beasts.”
“Yet you’ll chase twisters with no problem.”
“That’s different.”
“How? Both could kill you.”
Rhett didn’t have an answer for that. But he did know he never wanted to experience what he’d been through in that arena all those years ago. 
It happened before you’d started storm chasing together. He was gunning for a career in pro bull riding, and he was headed toward the top. He had it all. Until it came crashing down one night when he suffered a life-threatening injury when he didn’t get out of the way of an angry bull fast enough. 
You’d never forget that night. And neither would he. You’d been volunteering at the rodeo. You were certified in first aid, and you were able to work alongside the on-site medics tending to riders with injuries, so you had access to the riders-only area. 
But what Rhett suffered was no minor injury. The bull’s horn caught him right beneath the hem of his protective vest, impaling the soft flesh of his lower abdomen. You remembered so vividly the way you’d cried out his name. The way he’d been carried out on a stretcher. 
You remembered tearing his vest off of him and seeing blood. So much blood. You remembered pressing your hands to the wound in an effort to slow the bleeding as he grew pale beneath you. You remembered begging him to hold on, assuring him that help was on the way. 
You almost lost him that night. 
The injury scared the hell out of him. It required surgery to repair the internal damage, and it took him out of riding for months. And by the time the doctor cleared him to ride again, he knew he couldn’t. Not after he’d stared death in the face. 
He had a permanent scar on his abdomen, a reminder of what he had endured. 
Rhett never wanted to experience that again. So he hung up his riding vest for good. But he was still a thrill seeker. And when you expressed an interest in storm chasing, he’d eagerly agreed, because it gave him a chance to feel alive again, just like he always felt when he was sitting on the back of a raging bull. 
Now you had traded places. He was too afraid to mount another bull. You were too afraid to go after another twister. It seemed that you had more in common than you realized.
“Guess we’re both scared of something,” you remarked, wrapping your arms around yourself as the evening chill crept up on you like the chilled fingers of a ghost touching your skin. 
“Guess so,” Rhett agreed.
Your conversation fell stagnant, and you found yourself growing sleepy. You had only just arrived back in Oklahoma that morning, and the night before, you hadn’t slept well. The exhaustion was beginning to catch up with you. 
“I should probably turn in before I fall asleep out here,” you mumbled, followed by a yawn. 
Rhett made a sound deep in his throat before he rolled his neck, joints cracking. “I’ll help ya with your stuff,” he offered as he stood. 
You followed suit, motioning to your car. The two of you headed down the porch steps, where you popped the trunk, revealing your luggage. You watched as Rhett heaved the bags out of the car, his forearms and biceps bulging beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt. 
You were reminded that he was still just as strong as ever. Lifting your suitcases hardly took that much strength, you knew, but Rhett was a farm boy. He’d been strong his entire life, thanks to lifting bales of hay and performing other tasks of manual labor. When he was riding bulls, his core and leg strength had been excellent. Those strong thighs of his allowed him to hold tightly to those raging animals. 
He’d taken on some size since you’d seen him six years ago. His shoulders were more broad. His arms were bigger. His thighs were meatier. Or maybe his jeans were simply too tight, hugging the curve of his quad muscles.
In the kitchen, you hadn’t fully admired him. But here, beneath the night sky, illuminated by the glow of the porch light, you saw him. His stubbled jaw, his twinkling eyes, his small pink mouth the button nose you’d always loved. 
You remembered teasing him and telling him he had an elfin nose, that he had inherited it from a mystical creature. You had adored the way his ears would turn red whenever you said it.
Oh, how things had changed. There had been a time when you couldn’t picture your life without him. And now, you’d been without him for so long that you’d forgotten what it felt like to love and be loved by him.
“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, and you shook yourself out of your reverie.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry. Just sorta zoned out.”
The knowing look in his eye told you he’d caught on to the fact that you were staring at him.
“C’mon, I’ll take you upstairs.” With that, he slammed your trunk shut and gathered your bags again before he headed toward the house.
You trailed after him, closing and locking the front door behind you, assuming everyone was in for the night. Then you ascended the stairs, allowing Rhett to lead you down the hall, all the way to the end, where his room was.
He nudged the partially open door with his foot, and stepped into the dark confines, depositing your luggage onto the bed before he bent to turn on the bedside lamp. You were met with the sight of a surprisingly neat bedroom.
The times you’d been here in the past, his room had never been terribly messy, but random clutter would accumulate in different corners. He was never really the type to make his bed either, because he always said, “I’m gon’ sleep in it again, so why bother?”
But now, the bed was neatly made, and hardly any clutter hid in the corners. 
“I ain’t been stayin’ here much, so it stays pretty neat,” he explained, as if reading your mind. 
“Too busy storm chasing?” You asked.
“Yeah. Stay in a lotta motels when I’m on the road.”
You sauntered into the room, taking in the coziness of it all. Hardly anything had changed. His plaid bedspread was the same. His curtains still matched the bedding. Art pieces of cowboys riding bulls decorated the walls. A picture of Lane Frost hung just above his desk.
A sense of nostalgia washed over you. Being in this room felt like coming home.
“Welp…guess I’ll, uh, let you get to bed,” Rhett murmured. He paused in the doorway, as if he wanted to say something. “I’m glad you’re back, by the way.”
That brought a smile to your face. “I am, too.”
He rapped his knuckles against the door frame. “Anyway, ‘night.”
“Goodnight.”
He reached out to pull the door shut, leaving you in silence, alone for the first time since you had arrived at the house. You let out a breath, and lowered down to sit on the edge of the bed, allowing yourself to process everything.  
Your arms splayed out on either side of you, palms skimming over the softness of the bed. You closed your eyes, and allowed the memories to wash over you. It was here, in this very bed, that you had lost your virginity to each other. You were young and in love and driven by your passion for one another.
Many times after that, you had made love in this room. And as you closed your eyes, it was as if you were reliving those memories. The feeling of his mouth on yours, and his hands on your heated skin. The way he would moan your name into your mouth when you shifted your hips against his own, searching for delicious friction, so eager to have him inside you.
As your eyes fluttered open, you were struck with a feeling of emptiness. How long had it been since you’d been with anyone in such an intimate way? Your job hardly left you time for romantic relationships. You hadn’t really put yourself out there, because you knew your busy career would likely deter anyone who wanted any sort of future with you.
As you readied yourself for bed, you thought about how alone you had felt these last few years. Alone in your grief. In your pain. At least Rhett had his parents to lean on as they endured the loss. You had no one who truly understood. 
Silver Spring was a perfectly nice community to live in, and you had made some good friends during your time there. But nothing compared to the community you once had here in Wabang. No one compared to Lydia, your dearest friend. Your bond had been a sisterly one. You were kindred spirits. You’d never been able to find that again in any of the friends you made in your current home city.
But now that you were back in Oklahoma, the sense of familiarity was nearly overwhelming. You were home. Even if you didn’t realize it yet.
That night, you got the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time. Rhett’s bed was comfortable, and the house was quiet. All that could be heard outside was the distant howl of a coyote, and the sounds of nightlife creeping about.
When you woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a rooster crowing. You lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, relishing in the feeling of being rested. Your body didn’t ache. Your head wasn’t swimming with tiredness. You were at peace, which was something you hadn’t felt in ages.
You could hear the sound of the Abbotts milling about the house. Cecilia was likely in the kitchen starting breakfast. Royal was probably already outside, getting a head start on the day’s chores. Rhett, too, who’d always been responsible for checking on the animals and making sure they were fed.
Not wanting to walk out in your tank top and sleep shorts, you were quick to throw on some clean clothes before you headed across the hall to the bathroom to wash your face and make yourself look somewhat presentable.
When you finally made your way downstairs, you were hit with the smell of food cooking. The coffee pot hissed and sputtered in the corner, nearly finished with its brew cycle. Amy sat at the table, doodling in a notebook. When she saw you, her face lit up.
“Mornin’! I was wondering when you’d come down! You slept for a super long time.”
“Amy,” Cecilia cautioned.
“It’s okay,” you assured her, before turning to Amy, “I needed the rest.”
“Well you came down just in time! Gramma’s making pancakes.”
“Sounds good!” Came your response, as you moved to grab a glass from the cupboard to fill with water. Your mouth felt parched.
“How’d you sleep, hon?” Cecilia asked as she stirred a bowl of pancake batter.
“Like a baby,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips to take a sip. You watched as she poured the batter onto a hot skillet, bubbling with melted butter. “Just so you know, I don’t expect you to make breakfast for me every day. I know you only make big breakfasts on Saturdays and Sundays, I don’t expect pancakes and eggs and bacon every day of the week.”
It was Thursday, so it wasn’t a typical day for her to make breakfast for the family. The weekday mornings were always called “fend for yourself” mornings, where the family was responsible for preparing their own respective breakfasts.
“Nonsense! I’m happy to do it, you need fuel if you’re gonna be cleanin’ that house all day,” she insisted.
You smiled gratefully. “Thank you. Really, it means a lot.”
She ushered you to the table, assuring you breakfast would be ready momentarily. You chatted with Amy once you settled into your seat, and just as breakfast was being put on the table, the screen door squealed open, and in stepped Royal, lifting his hat off his head and placing it on the peg on the wall.
He greeted you, nodding in your direction. “Mornin’,” he said as he took his seat at the head of the table.
Cecilia placed a cup of black coffee beside his plate, and he thanked her with a wordless hum. Typical morning small talk followed as everyone began filling their plates. But the quiet chatter was soon interrupted by the screen door opening again.
Rhett hurried into the kitchen, boots scraping against the floor as he made a beeline for the table. You could see a wildness in his eyes, and it made your heart rate quicken. Your gaze flickered to the kitchen window, where you could see distant gray clouds. 
“Gotta take breakfast to go, storm’s brewin’ over in Cimarron County,” he announced as he reached over Amy’s head to grab a pancake. He shoved a few pieces of bacon inside and folded it up like a taco. “Team’s on the way here to meet me.”
“Please be careful!” Cecilia called after him as he turned on his heel to head back to the door. 
He grabbed a backpack that was sitting on the bench in the entryway, presumably packed with necessities. “Always am, Ma,” he replied. Then he looked at you, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “You wanna come?” Hope was in his tone.
His offer shocked you. You certainly didn’t expect it, not after what you had told him last night. “No, I…I’ll stay here,” you answered.
“Alright, see ya soon!” And with that, he was off, door slamming shut behind him.
You weren’t sure what drove you to do so, but you found yourself surging up from your seat, feet carrying you quickly to the door. You flung it open and rushed out onto the porch. “Rhett!” You called. 
Midway to his truck, he stopped, whirling around. “Yeah?”
“Be safe!” He’d just come back into your life. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.
His face softened, and he smiled. “I will be. I promise.” Then he turned and continued on to his truck. Still that old GMC Sierra with the light bar on top. It had been blown off the road during the twister you’d narrowly escaped, but somehow, the truck was perfectly fine, and just needed a few repairs to render it driveable again.
Seeing that it had survived after all this time gave you hope that Rhett would make it back safely home again. 
He was gone for three days. You learned of his well-being through Cecilia. He would always text her after a storm passed to assure her he was okay. He was so good about giving her peace of mind. 
In his absence, you busied yourself with sorting through the overwhelming clutter in your great-aunt’s house. It provided a distraction from your worry. 
Living in Silver Spring, you’d had no cause to worry about Rhett. He crossed your mind often, yes, but you had no idea he was still storm chasing, and therefore remained blissfully ignorant. 
Now that you were back home, all those old memories had resurfaced, and you were forced to face the fact that you still cared deeply for Rhett. The thought of him dying out there made your stomach turn. 
At least when you’d been chasing with him, you were together, and he would die by your side if something did happen. Being apart from him now, you had no idea if he was okay or not, aside from updates from his mother. 
You were forced to come to terms with your feelings. Why did you feel so strongly about this? Yes, you cared about what happened to him, just as anyone else in his life did. But there was something more. 
You realized that perhaps you were still in love with him. 
However, you buried that realization deep. You couldn’t rekindle your romance with him. You had moved on, made a life for yourself, had a career you loved. You needed to leave your relationship with him in the past, and move forward with only a friendship between the two of you. 
Easy as pie, right? 
You hoped so. 
Three days later, just as you were arriving back on the Abbott farm after a long day of cleaning and organizing, Rhett returned. 
Relief washed over you from head to toe when you saw that old Sierra coming down the driveway. But he wasn’t alone. You could make out the silhouette of a woman sitting in the passenger seat. Behind the truck, a Ford F150 followed closely behind, and beyond that, an old RV. 
So this was the team he’d been talking about. 
Your gut fluttered at the sudden anxiety of meeting new people. You knew you looked worse for wear in your cleaning clothes. You’d been sweating all day, and you were planning on heading straight for the shower when you got into the house. 
But it would be rude to just turn and go inside, so you stayed put, waiting until all the vehicles came to a stop. 
Rhett jumped out first, slamming the truck door shut behind him. He was wearing his hat, and he was grinning. “Made it back in one piece,” he assured you. 
You couldn’t help but smile in return. “I can see that,” came your answer. 
Your eyes flickered beyond him as the woman in the passenger seat climbed out. She was beautiful, in the most natural of ways. No makeup adorned her face. Her eyes were large, the deepest shade of brown you’d ever seen. Her hair, a deep chestnut color, was curly and unkempt, pulled back into a ponytail. 
Her deep brown skin glimmered with perspiration. You could hazard a guess that the air conditioning in Rhett’s truck was broken. It always had been finicky. 
“Hi,” she spoke, reaching out her hand to shake yours, “I’m Zara Marshall. Nice to finally meet you! Rhett told me all about you.” Then she added, “good things, of course!”
“Nice to meet you, too. I didn’t realize you all were coming. I would’ve at least tried to look presentable.”
“Oh, you look beautiful, don’t even worry about that.” She blew a stray curl out of her face. 
“Zara here is the genius behind all our chases,” Rhett boasted. 
The woman looked at him and beamed, shaking her head. “Oh, hush. I’m no genius.”
An odd feeling blossomed to life in your chest as you watched their banter. The easy way they interacted. It wasn’t jealousy, was it? It couldn’t be. You had no right to be jealous. Not after you were the one that left him six years ago. 
Your moment of distaste was interrupted by the sound of car doors opening and closing. The rest of the team was getting out of their vehicles, clearly eager to stretch their legs after driving for so long. 
“You have to meet my wife!” Zara exclaimed. 
Oh. 
How silly of you to entertain the thought of jealousy when the woman wasn’t even interested in Rhett. 
Another woman came rushing over to the three of you, tall and lean, shoulder-length brown hair hanging loosely against the middle of her back, Tattoos decorated different parts of her body. Mostly her hands and wrists, and a few on her neck. When she smiled at you, it was warm like sunlight. 
“Hi!” She said, “I’m Jeslyn.”
You shook her hand and told her your name. Then you were quickly introduced to everyone else. 
There was Finn, handsome as could be, with bright green eyes and auburn hair. And then there was Danny, with eyes that were just a little less blue than Rhett’s, and graying curls that fell against his forehead. He couldn’t have been older than his early thirties, but he was already going gray. It suited him.
They were all so personable, and their welcome was warm. It made you feel at ease instantly. You should have known the people who chose to associate with Rhett were good people.
You learned that they were all staying for dinner, per Cecilia’s insistence. It was a flurry of organized chaos as everyone offered to help set up the tables outside, rather than crowding in the small kitchen to eat. 
While they were busy with that, you slipped away to take a quick shower, eager to wash the sweat and grime off of your body. 
You turned the water as hot as you could stand, stepping under the spray and closing your eyes. You hadn’t expected to be so exhausted. Your shoulders and arms ached from scrubbing and heavy lifting. Your legs were sore too. 
The steamy water helped loosen your tight muscles considerably, and once you were finished, you breathed out a sigh of satisfaction. Now you felt a little more prepared to face a dinner table full of people. 
But when you stepped out of the shower, you realized that you had forgotten something very important. A towel. Swearing under your breath, you stood in the middle of the bathroom for a moment, debating what you should do.
The linen closet was right across the hall. If you could sneak out there unseen, you’d be able to grab a towel and slip right back into the bathroom unnoticed. So, you cautiously opened the bathroom door and made sure the coast was clear before you dashed for the closet, yanking the door open and scanning for a towel.
To your horror, the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard, and you gasped, reaching for your towel, but you weren’t fast enough. A split second later, Rhett appeared at the top of the steps.
He froze, eyes widening, as you let out a squeak of surprise. Out of respect for you, he quickly turned away. “Shit, sorry!” He apologized.
Wordlessly, you clutched your towel and scurried away, slamming the bathroom door shut. On the steps, Rhett let out a breath, and he couldn’t help but shake his head. He hadn’t seen you naked in years. Of course the first time would end up being an awkward moment like the one you’d both just been subjected to.
He hadn’t seen much, in his haste to give you privacy. But he’d seen enough to make his brain short-circuit for a moment. Mentally, he scolded himself, but he knew, now that he’d seen you in that way, he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his head. Especially because there had been a time when he knew your body, inside and out. He’d had you in the most intimate of ways. And that was something he would never forget.
“Get it the fuck t’gether,” he grumbled to himself as he turned back around, heading toward his room, where he wanted to grab a clean shirt before you came back. He simply couldn’t entertain thoughts about you naked. It would do him no good. 
He shook the encounter off, and quickly changed his shirt, tossing the old one in the hamper. He stopped to glance in the mirror that hung above his dresser, running his hand haphazardly through his hair, which was slightly tousled from all the activity of the day. 
Then, quick as he came, he strolled out of his room and back down the steps before you ever stepped out of the bathroom again. 
Meanwhile, you were hurriedly going about your post-shower routine, your mind spinning. You knew you were making this into a bigger deal than it needed to be. Perhaps you should be grateful it was only Rhett, who’d seen you naked many times before, rather than his parents or Amy. 
But you still had an odd feeling swirling to life in your gut, a feeling that you didn’t want to face, because if you did, that would mean admitting you’d never gotten over Rhett. 
You pushed it down again. Choosing to deny, deny, deny. It would simply go away if you didn’t acknowledge it. 
With that, you headed out of the bathroom and back into Rhett’s bedroom, where you set your shower items down and made sure to hang your towel on the hook mounted on the back of the door. 
Then, with a deep breath for courage, you made your way downstairs. 
There was a flurry of activity happening. Cecilia was prepping Sunday dinner, while Zara and Jeslyn were gathering plates and silverware to set the table outside. Danny, Finn, and Rhett were carrying chairs outside.
Royal and Amy were in the living room, where she was very intently watching him whittle a figurine out of wood. Cecilia had likely shooed them out of the kitchen because there were enough people in the way as it was. 
For a moment, you stood there, in the middle of the house, taking in the sights and sounds, and it transported you back to the past. Sunday dinners with the Abbotts were always your favorite. Lydia and her family would join, and everyone would eat outside, weather permitting, just like they were going to do today. 
Many a good time was had around the large oak table that Rhett had built with his own hands when he was in high school, in woodworking class. One of the of the few classes he thrived in. The craftsmanship was beautiful, and it was still in good condition to this day. 
“Hey, y’alright?” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. You looked up to find him standing near, gaze soft. 
“I…yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “just reminiscing.”
He nodded. “Mm. Sure this brings back a lotta memories for you.”
“It does,” you agreed. 
He lingered for a moment. Then, with the lowering of his voice, he said, “I, uh, I’m sorry about earlier. Didn’t mean to walk in on ya like that.”
You cleared your throat, shaking your head. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”
“Good. That’s good.” He let his hands rest upon his hips, grimacing at the awkward silence that followed. 
“Guess I’d better see if your mom needs help,” you finally volunteered. 
“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m gon’ make sure the guys set up the table right.” He took a few steps backward before he turned and sauntered out the door. 
You breathed out a sigh, mentally berating yourself for the awkwardness. You hoped it wouldn’t linger for the rest of the day. 
Thankfully, it did not. Once dinner was ready and everyone was gathered around the table, the atmosphere melted into one of warmth and laughter. You didn’t feel like an outsider. The group of friends treated you like one of your own, and it did wonders to put you at ease. 
“I thought you’d like t’ hear this,” Rhett’s voice caught your attention from across the table. “Zara here’s workin’ on a way to stop twisters dead in their tracks.”
That definitely piqued your interest. You looked at her, where she sat between Rhett and Jeslyn. “Really? How do you plan to stop them?” You asked her, leaning forward in your seat. 
Tornadoes were impossible to stop. To your knowledge, no one had succeeded in doing so before. They were so unpredictable, one couldn’t possibly figure out when and where one was going to touch down fast enough to stop it. 
She sprang into her explanation. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s never been done before. But Jes and I have spent years coming up with a solution. There’s a lot of heat and moisture at the center of a twister. My theory is if you can cool down the center to the freezing point, you can stop the twister.”
You stared at her, eyes widening. There was no way it could work. Was there? “How would you cool it down?”
“Essentially, we release liquid nitrogen into the core of the tornado and it brings the temp way down.”
“Have you tested it out yet?” You inquired. You were still skeptical, but fascinated at the same time. 
Beside her, Jeslyn piped up. “We started small scale tests when we were still students at OU. Me, Zara, and some classmates built this machine that uses heat and moisture to simulate a tornado. Our nitrogen tests worked on it, but seeing as that was only a small, contained event…”
“You’d need a lot more nitrogen for the real thing,” you finished for her. 
“Yep.”
Zara continued where Jeslyn left off. “During the run we did this week, we decided to actually test it out and see if we could stop a twister. But…it failed miserably.” She laughed ruefully, and the rest of the team joined her, reliving the memory. 
You were struck with an odd feeling. Fear of missing out, maybe. Which shocked you, because you’d refused to go on the chase in the first place, because you couldn’t face your fears. Now you felt left out? It didn’t quite make sense to you. 
Maybe you did miss storm chasing, after all. 
“It’s hard to gauge how much nitrogen we need, especially because every tornado is different. We’ve been working on collecting as many tanks of nitrogen as we possibly can, but we also didn’t want to use up our whole reserve. We used half of it on what turned out to be an F3. Didn’t do shit,” Zara continued to explain, motioning animatedly with her hands as she spoke. Her face was incredibly expressive. 
You decided you really liked her. You could understand why Rhett enjoyed chasing with her. 
“So, how does that work? Like, do you set tanks of nitrogen on the ground and then open them and hope for the best, or?” You had so many questions, and you simply couldn’t hide your fascination. 
“We use that,” Rhett said, pointing over at his truck parked in the driveway. Hitched to the back was an open trailer, with several tanks of liquid nitrogen situated inside, metal gleaming in the light of the setting sun. 
“But how do you open them? Does someone have to open each one before the twister hits?” You suddenly became very aware of everyone’s eyes on you, and you shrank slightly. “Sorry, I know I’m asking a lot of questions.”
“No, you’re good!” Zara insisted, “it’s just, we’re all used to people telling us we’re crazy instead of actually showing interest.”
“I told ya she’d think it was cool,” Rhett said to her with a smile. He caught your eye. He still knew you well, even though time had driven you apart. 
“Basically, opening the tanks is up to us,” Finn piped up from beside you, motioning to Danny, who sat on the other side of him. He took a swig of his water before he continued. “We made these special remote control valves. As long as we’re within range, we can open the valves with the touch of a button and release the nitrogen into the air.”
“Honestly, it sounds crazy. But also brilliant,” you said, completely in awe. “You gotta show me all the equipment after dinner. I’ve never heard of anyone doing this kinda thing before.”
Part of you still doubted what they were trying to do would ever work. It went against all odds. Even if they did succeed in stopping a tornado, the method wasn’t necessarily feasible for stopping others in the future. It would require countless tanks of nitrogen and a lot of manpower. 
But just to be able to say one had stopped a tornado was a feat in and of itself. You couldn’t hold it against Zara for trying. It was clear she was passionate about her work and believed there was a possibility that it could be successful. 
The conversation around the dinner table soon shifted to other things. You noticed that none of them asked you about your storm chasing past. You wondered how much Rhett had told them, and if he’d instructed them not to ask about the details, at risk of upsetting you. 
It was very considerate of him, if he had. 
After dinner, everyone helped clean up while Cecilia ushered Amy upstairs, against the girl’s protests. “You’ve got school in the mornin’, early bedtime isn’t optional!” Her grandmother insisted. 
But Amy had to make sure she said goodnight to everyone first before she made the reluctant trudge up the stairs. Oh, to have the innocence of a child again, unwilling to go to bed because all the adults were still awake.
The evening carried on, and once the dishes were washed and the table was cleared, you were led outside to see all the equipment Zara had told you about. And what a setup it was.
The trailer attached to the back of Rhett’s truck was full of nitrogen tanks, sealed with remote controlled valves. The trailer itself was also remote controlled, according to Rhett. 
“Come see,” he motioned for you to follow as he opened the driver’s side door. He pointed at the center console, where there was a board of switches, framed by labels indicating what each switch was for. “Danny and Finn helped get this up an’ running. If we need t’ let the trailer go, all I gotta do is press a button and it’ll release. S’how we get the tanks in the path of the twister.”
You stared in amazement at the device. “How? Like, how do you figure out when to release the trailer? And how does it not just get blown away?”
A grin tugged at his mouth. “Figured that one out too.”
He led you to the side of the trailer, where he pointed at a compartment positioned directly between the wheels. “Soon as I get the trailer in place, I flip a switch and stakes lower outta this compartment here and into the ground. Usually we’re cuttin’ it close, but I can get the truck positioned in the path of the twister. Then I get the trailer settled and get the hell outta Dodge.”
“Then I hit the remote control for the tanks and release the nitrogen into the air,” Finn piped up eagerly.
“Meanwhile, Zara and I are tracking the storm pattern and trying to figure out exactly when to release the trailer,” came Jeslyn’s explanation.
You stared at all the equipment in total wonder. These people had thought of everything. More than you or Rhett ever had when you were chasing. Your operation then had been very bare bones, and really, you were just following storms for the fun of it. 
But this? This was an entire science experiment, and it was fascinating. Despite your refusal to chase again, you were very curious about what all of this would look like in action. If Zara ever succeeded in stopping a twister, she would make history. 
That was something you almost wanted to be a part of. Almost. 
Later that night, you found yourself curled up in an Adirondack chair, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as everyone sat around the fire that Rhett had built in the old fire pit. The place held so many memories. Namely, the night Rhett had asked you to be his girlfriend. It was right here. 
He remembered that night, too. You could tell he was thinking about it when he caught your eye from across the fire. 
Around you, the group settled into comfortable conversation. The kind that happened when old friends got together. Anything and everything was discussed as the night gave way to inky darkness, the stars twinkling above, like glitter spilled across a black velvet canvas. 
Before she’d retired for the night, Cecilia had warmed some apple cider on the stove, and a mug of it was currently situated in your hands, its taste spicy and comforting. You enjoyed listening to Rhett’s friends tell stories of different storms they’d chased, reliving all the exciting times they’d had together.
You wondered if you would be running with them, too, had you stayed here instead of moving to Silver Springs and taking your weather analyst job. Would it just be you and Rhett, or would fate have still decided to bring these people into your life?
Their passion was admirable. Zara was a very driven individual, hellbent on making a difference. “If I could at least slow down a twister, even if it doesn’t fully stop it, think of all the lives we could save. That’s why I do all of this. I wanna protect people.”
That was just it, wasn’t it? Saving lives. You thought back to the fateful day you had lost Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. If you’d had a way of slowing down that twister, or even stopping it altogether, perhaps they would still be here.
But you couldn’t think that way, because it was already done. There was no way to go back in time and save them. 
The thought made your chest ache, and you had to swallow the wave of grief that rose in your throat. Rhett caught your eye over the flames, and shot you a reassuring look, almost as if he knew what you were thinking.
To your relief, the subject soon changed from storm chasing, and moved on to lighter things. 
“Hey, rodeo’s on Saturday. We were all thinking of going together. You should totally join us!” Jeslyn suggested, nodding in your direction. 
“Yeah, you should!” Finn agreed.
That piqued your interest. “Sure, I’ll still be in town, so why not?” You hadn’t been to a rodeo in so long. Not since Rhett’s last ride, which had ended in disaster.
Jeslyn grinned over her mug of cider. “Great! We’re gonna have so much fun. We’ll take care of your ticket, so you don’t have to worry about it.” 
You raised a brow in surprise. “Really? You don’t have to do that.”
Everyone protested at once, insisting that they wanted the rodeo ticket to be their treat. You were touched at their generosity, and accepted the offer gratefully. Might as well make the most of your time in Wabang.
Soon, it was time for the group to disperse and head in their own respective ways. Rhett threw some sand over the dying embers, while everyone else folded up their chairs to store back in the barn. As you walked the group back to their cars, Zara turned to you, her face kind.
“I know you’ve got your reasons for choosing not to chase, I want you to know the invitation for you to join us is open, in case you ever change your mind,” she told you. 
You weren’t entirely sure what came over you then. Maybe it was your desire to make a difference. Maybe you were just foolish. But for whatever reason, you were emboldened enough to say, “y’know what? I’ve got a proposition.” You stole a glance at Rhett to make sure he was listening. “I’ll go on a chase with you guys if Rhett agrees to ride at next weekend’s rodeo.”
You knew Rhett. He had a competitive nature. He was going to say yes. Everyone’s eyes landed on him, awaiting his answer.
“Shoo-ee, you gonna accept that challenge, Rhett?” Danny asked with a grin, fully invested.
Beside you, Rhett grimaced. “Ain’t no way they’ll let me in the ring,” he protested.
“Does Beau still oversee the bull riding contestants?” You inquired.
You and Rhett both knew that Beau would agree to letting him ride, because only Beau Wilson was crazy enough to allow such a thing. 
“Yeah,” Rhett answered your question. He was well aware of the direction this was going.
“Then I’ll go talk to him. He’ll get you a spot in the ring. If you can handle it, that is.” You gave him a pointed look. 
“I can handle it, darlin’.” Despite the determination in his tone, the nickname settled over you like a warm embrace. He hadn’t called you that in so long. “So if I do this, you swear you’ll go on a run with us?”
“Pinky swear.” You held your hand out, pinky up.
Rhett eyed your hand for a moment before he linked his pinky finger with yours. “Fine. You got yourself a deal.”
Finn and Danny whooped in excitement, while Zara and Jeslyn looked between you and Rhett, bewildered. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the one to get him back on a bull? We always say he should try riding again, but he always says no,” Zara explained. 
You looked at Rhett, and he ducked his head, hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck. You swore you saw his ears turn red. “Guess he just needed some friendly competition,” you replied.
Not long after, goodbyes were said, and the group parted ways, climbing into their vehicles and driving off, leaving you and Rhett standing there in the driveway. Immediately, you realized that your proposition was a bit preposterous. 
“Oh my god, if you don’t want to ride, you don’t have to. I don’t know why I said that, I just…”
But he waved his hand, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ll do it. It’ll do me some good to get back on a bull. Just like it’ll do you some good to face another twister. Might help us both process some shit,” he reasoned.
You let out a breath. “Maybe so.”
You both turned to walk toward the house, and he asked you a question as you went. “What made you change your mind?”
You paused, glancing down at your feet before you looked at him. “I dunno, all of Zara’s talk about saving lives…it got me thinking. It would be so cool if it could work. Imagine all the people she could save! She’s making a difference, and I want to be a part of that.” And then, “maybe if…if we had something like that six years ago, Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia would still be alive.”
Rhett’s boots crunched against dirt as he absently kicked a few pebbles out of the way. “Don’t go spiralin’ into the ‘what ifs’. Universe saw fit to take ‘em, so it did. No machine could’ve stopped it. Not that kinda twister.”
You studied his expression. “Do you believe in Zara’s project?”
He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I do, but there ain’t no way it would stop an EF5 tornado. We’d be fucked if it hit us.”
“It’s still worth a try, though, isn’t it? If it works, and if she can get it going on a larger scale…she could save entire towns from being destroyed! Think of the history she’s going to make!”
Rhett’s mouth curled into a slight smile. “There she is.”
“What?”
“My storm chasin’ gal. You’re back.”
You shrugged. “I guess so. But just know this isn’t a permanent thing, ‘kay? I’m only going out there with you guys to see how Zara’s invention works. After that, I’m going back to Silver Springs. To my job, where I don’t have to live off of McDonald’s and Whataburger every day and stay in shitty motels while I wait for a twister to just fall out of the sky.”
He bit back his ever-widening grin, shaking his head. “Sure thing. I’m just glad you decided to face your fear, s’all.”
Facing your fear. That was what this was, wasn’t it? You knew that  if you could do this, it would show you that you were capable of moving past your grief that still felt crippling at times. But you couldn’t help but wonder; when staring into the face of a tornado, would you be able to stand your ground, or would you let your fear send you running like a frightened child?
You would soon find out. But you didn’t realize just how soon. 
-
taglist: tagging those who expressed interest or asked to be tagged (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)
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bloatedandalone04 · 3 days
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Bets & Bargains - Part 12
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Series Masterlist
➪in which you ask for space, and bradley reluctantly gives it to you, but that doesn’t stop him from sending one last (and kind of desperate) text.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 3.4k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The second Bradley saw you, his entire body tensed up, because he knew what this looked like. His ex was damn near naked in his bed, and he had just left the bathroom and looked like he just woke up.
Of fucking course it looked bad. 
But nothing happened, and he knew that, but you did not. And you didn’t even give him the chance to say that before you were turning around and practically running out his bedroom door. “Baby,” he called after you and was instantly crossing the room as he glared at Briana. “Get the fuck up and go, alright? I mean it.” Was all he said to her before he quickly followed after you. 
You were smaller than him, and probably pissed off beyond words, so you were a lot faster than normal. When he passed through his doorframe, you were already out the front door, and he had to run down the stairs to be able to catch up with you. 
“Y/n!” He called your name, but you weren’t answering him. You bolted down the front steps and began speed walking down the sidewalk, and Bradley briefly wondered how you could possibly move that fast with such short legs since he was having a hard time closing the distance. 
Just as you reached out and tossed the takeout bag you were holding into the trash can, he was finally given the chance to reach out to you.
His hand wrapped around your wrist, his grip gentle but firm as he turned you to face him. “Please, please, listen to me okay? Please, what you saw, that was-”
“I don’t want to hear it, Bradley,” you cut him off and pulled your hand away from him so quickly, he didn’t have time to tighten his grip before you broke the contact. “I don’t, alright? Just…please.”
Bradley furrowed his brows and shook his head. He needed to make it known that what you saw wasn’t at all what it looked like, even though that was the oldest excuse in the oldest fucking book on earth. “No, baby, just listen, please,”
“I don’t want to,” you quickly say and step away from him. “I just saw your ex in your bed, Bradley. I don’t want to be anywhere near you right now, okay?”
Your words hurt him more than he thought they would, but he still didn’t let you get too far before he was trying to close the distance again. You were the best thing in his life right now, the last thing he wanted to do was fuck that up because of a misunderstanding. “Babes, just stop for a second, okay?” He begged, trying and failing to get you to meet his eyes. “It isn’t what it looks like, alright? And I know, I know, everyone says that, but I mean it.”
“Bradley, please,” you said quietly and he didn’t even need to see your eyes to know that you were crying, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the entire world right now. “Let’s not do this, please. I think…I think maybe we rushed into this.”
That literally left him speechless, because to him it couldn’t be further from the truth. Maybe he rushed into it at the beginning, but everything felt like it was going at the perfect pace to him. And he knew it was the same for you, he could tell. You were lying to him right now in an attempt to protect yourself from him, and that left him with the worst feeling settling in his bones. 
“Y/n, please,” he tried again but you just shook your head. 
“Maybe you’re not fully over Briana, and…and maybe I’m not over Luke. Why else would your ex be in your bed, Bradley? Maybe we just need some time away from each other to figure things out,” you whispered and wiped your eyes. “Can you give me that? Please?”
He didn’t want to give you that. Fuck, he really did not want to give you that. He wanted to beg you some more and fully explain what you saw in his bedroom, but the look you were giving him told him that you were so close to breaking down, and he didn’t want to push you to that point. 
So he nodded slowly, his hand aching to reach out and grab yours as he asked, “Can I call you later? Or…or text you?”
You looked up at him and finally let him see your pretty eyes, then your gaze drifted behind him, and his heart fell even more. He didn’t need to turn around to know what you were looking at as you shook your head. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,”
Then you were turning away and fleeing down the sidewalk towards the other side of campus before he could get another word out. “I’m sorry,” he called out pathetically after you, but you ignored him until you were out of his sight. 
Bradley turned and saw Briana swaying on her feet on the steps of his house, her shirt and skirt back on and her heels in her hand. “She ran off quickly,” she laughed as she stumbled onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t even get to formally introduce myself.”
He rolled his eyes and pushed past her as he stepped back into his house and went to slam the door behind him, but her hand stopped it from fully closing.
“Wait, aren’t you going to drive me back to that frat house so I can find my bag?” She asked as if she didn’t just single handedly ruin his relationship with you. 
Bradley’s gaze hardened as he glared at her. “Why the fuck,” he started and she quickly stepped away before he could finish his question and began walking down the sidewalk, not even bothering to put her heels back on.  
“Alright, Brad,” she laughed again, winking back at him. “But since you’re single again, maybe you and I can reconnect and-”
Bradley didn’t even want to hear the rest of that as he slammed the door shut behind him and went back up to his room. Briana had left his sheets sprawled all over his bed, and her mascara was on his pillow, and he wished he could go back to Saturday night when you and he were so fucking happy.
When he stepped forward, his foot touched something soft, and he looked down to see his jersey on the floor, right where you had dropped it before running out of his room. He reached for it, and when he lifted it up, a wave of coconut and rose filled his senses, the same exact scent his bed smelled like before Briana tainted it with the stench of booze.
Now he was miserable as he plugged his phone in and tore apart his bedding, shoving the alcohol smelling sheets into the washing machine down the hall. When he got back to his room, he fell onto his bed that no longer smelled like you, and grabbed his still charging phone. The single text that was sent nearly forty minutes ago made him feel even worse. 
Babes🩷: I miss you, flyboy. Breakfast? On me 😚❤️ 
-
You were a mess when you got back to your dorm.
Your eyes were sore from holding back the tears in public, but as soon as you entered your house, they poured down your face
You felt so stupid and embarrassed. Briana was fucking stunning, you knew that from all the photos you deleted of her on Bradley’s phone as he went down on you. At the time, that was one of the hottest experiences of your life, but now you just felt fucking dumb.
She was beautiful, of course she managed to push her way back into Bradley’s heart and bed as soon as you left. 
You were literally speechless as you leaned back against the door, and the sound of footsteps coming down the hall made you cringe, because you knew Sam was going to have a field day with this one. “Hey,” she said flatly as she crossed her arms. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Not now, Sam,” you mumbled, wiping at your ruined makeup as you crossed the living room in an attempt to hide in your room until you had to go to class. 
Of course that wasn’t going to happen as Sam reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey,” she said again, turning you to face her. “What happened? Wait, let me guess.”
She almost sounded excited now and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt another wave of embarrassment wash over you, because you were about to get brutally ripped into. You defended Bradley when she called him a rebound, and you were so convinced that you had a real thing going on with him, and it totally blew up in your face. Oh yeah, she was going to have a fucking blast making fun of you about this. 
“Your ‘boyfriend’, aka your rebound, turned out to be just that. A rebound,” she started, pulling her hand away from you as she laughed. “And now you’re crying because you thought he was actually into you when all he wanted was an easy lay in a newly single girl.”
The words leaving her mouth were cruel and awful and had you questioning how she was ever your friend in the first place. She really hid this side of her well, you guessed. “Sam-”
“And to think you ended things with my brother, who was waiting for you to get your shit together and get back with him, only for you to dump him,” she let out another humorless laugh and crossed her arms. “And here you are, crying over the guy you chose over him, the one who never actually wanted you in the first place. Am I close with this?”
You sniffled and glared at your roommate as best as you could, but you probably just looked even more pathetic. “You know, Sam, you’re supposed to be my friend,” you say, your voice a bit hoarse from all the crying you’ve done since you got home. “You’re supposed to be comforting me and supporting me, but you’re just making me feel worse, and for what? Because I broke up with your brother months ago, and it only just clicked for you now? You’re fucking mean, Sam, and I’m not going to stand here and listen to this anymore.”
Sam opened her mouth to respond, but you just turned on your heel and speed walked down the hall until you reached your room, and you quickly opened then slammed the door as more tears fell down your face. 
After the sight you walked into at Bradley’s place, and now with your ex friend, you felt exhausted and worn out, despite it only being nine thirty in the morning. Sam pissed you off, and you wondered if this was how Bradley felt after Eli’s interruption of your heated makeout session on the couch. And then you started thinking about Bradley again and how happy you were yesterday. And now you were sobbing harder.
You dropped your school bag onto the floor before stepping further into your room, and soon enough, your eyes landed on Bradley’s flannel he gave you the day after he asked you to be his girlfriend. 
You knew you should throw it out the window or maybe set it on fire, but instead you walked over to it and ran your fingers over the blue and white fabric. The first time you saw the shirt was when he was wearing it as he made you dinner, then asked you to be official. Then you asked him to bring it to you the next day so you could keep it, and you shamelessly wore it around your room pretty often. 
It still smelled like him when you brought it up to your nose, and you felt like you were going to be sick as a swarm of emotions hit you hard. 
Anger. Embarrassment. Sadness. Longing. 
You already missed him, even though it was clear he didn’t miss you.
You hadn’t even been away from him for more than sixteen hours before he had another girl in his fucking bed, his ex no less, and you wondered how many others there were that you were so blind to. 
Thinking that Bradley had a handful of girls coming over to his place after you left was a hard thing to think about, and you really wanted to believe that it wasn’t true. He was so sweet to you, made you feel adored and seen. He was the best boyfriend you had ever had, even though it was short lived. You didn’t want to believe that he was actually a terrible guy. The person you saw when you were with him wasn’t like that, but what choice did you have after seeing what you did?
He didn’t even try to get you to stay with him, even though you practically begged him to leave you alone. But still, you were hurt. 
Your mind was filled with the worst thoughts, and you forced yourself to believe that the only reason he sounded so upset was because he was caught, not because it was one massive misunderstanding. 
-
Bradley was pretty much useless in class as he stared at the wall the whole time.
He was pissed off at Briana and himself for not fighting harder for you on the sidewalk this morning, but you were so sad and certain, he didn’t want to make you feel even worse. So he stupidly and regretfully let you walk away without even mentioning the fact that he did not sleep with his ex, let alone intentionally allow her to spend the night in his bed. 
He wanted to spam you with texts, but you asked him for space, and even though he didn’t want any space from you, he respected you too much to go out of his way to deny your wishes. 
You wanted a break, or a full on break up, and he didn’t want that at all. You already meant so much to him in such a short amount of time, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to get over you for a long time if you were to clarify that you and he were no longer together. You hadn’t said that yet, but he had a strong feeling that it was coming soon.  
He didn’t want to break up. The weeks he’s spent with you have been the best he’s ever had since starting University, and he didn’t want to give that up. It was too soon, he hadn’t had you for nearly as long as he wanted to. It was too soon. 
Once class was over, Bradley was walking back to his place when Eli and Wes spotted him across the campus and began making their way over. “Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes tightly as he stopped walking and waited for them to reach him. “What?”
“Ouch,” Eli laughed, nudging Bradley’s side in a way that made Bradley want to rip his arm off. “Rude way to greet your friends, dude.”
“Yeah, man, lighten up,” Wes agreed. “What’s up with you?”
Bradley huffed and rubbed at his eyes before letting his arm drop down to his side. “Y/n and I got into something today,” he answered as simply as he could, because he didn’t want either of these guys knowing his business.
“Damn,” Eli mumbled, “And here I thought you two looked inseparable this weekend.”
Wes furrowed his brows and looked between Eli and Bradley. “Wait what?”
“Yeah, dude,” Eli laughed again. “That chick was all over our boy here, and he was pretty much all over her, too. What happened, Brad?” He asked once he looked back at Bradley. 
He was not about to tell them about Briana, but he didn’t need to, because a fourth guy joined in on the conversation, and Bradley briefly remembered him from the night at the party he met you at. What was his name? Jackson? “Hey,” the guy grunted as he stepped into Bradley’s space. “You just had to take her back, huh?”
Bradley furrowed his brows as he looked at the guy whose name he couldn’t remember. “What?”
“Briana,” the guy said, and it clicked. This was Jensen, the dude Briana was all over in the kitchen at the party. The dude who helped motivate Bradley to make that dumb fucking bet. “I asked her to come over last night, but she told me she was going to see you. Said she was going to get you back or some shit.”
Eli and Wes, of course, perked up at that, but Bradley was confused. “What?” he asked again, gripping his bag strap as he looked at Jensen. “Briana was at a party last night.”
“Yeah, and she said you were there with her,” Jensen scoffed as he pushed his finger against Bradley’s chest. “You already had her, man, you couldn’t let me try her out? You just had to get back with her, huh?”
Eli let out a low whistle as Bradley shook his head, even more confused now. “What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t get back with her, dude, I already have a girlfriend,”
“Had,” Wes corrected and Bradley glared at him before turning back to Jensen and pushing his hand away. 
“I didn’t get back with her, alright? I picked her up from a party and let her crash at my place. That’s it,” he said and held his bag strap a bit tighter. “I don’t know what exactly she told you, but I’m not interested in her anymore, okay? We’re done.”
Jensen gave him a look that showed his disbelief, but Bradley honestly didn’t care about this conversation anymore. He just wanted to go back home, maybe send you a quick text, and finish making his bed so he can lie in it for the rest of the day. 
“Look, she’s all yours,” he mumbled. “Though you might want to rethink the way you talk about girls. It’s probably why she dumped you.”
Eli snickered then he and Wes quickly followed after Bradley as he walked away from Briana’s other ex. “Dude, you didn’t tell me Bri slept over last night,”
“Yeah,” Wes chimed in. “Looks like we owe you some money.”
“No, you don’t,” Bradley quickly said and stopped walking to turn and face the two. “How many times do I have to tell you that the bet is off, and how it was never really on in the first place? Y/n and I are…fine, okay? We’re gonna work things out.”
“Uh huh, that’s what you said about Bri,” Eli grunted, then quickly put his hands up when Bradley gave him a look of warning. “Anyway, party tomorrow? I have a guy coming over to deliver a bunch of beer.”
A party on a Tuesday night? What the hell was wrong with these guys?
Before Bradley could turn down the idea, Eli added, “You can invite Bri,” he grinned with a raise of his brows. “Maybe you two can get back together for real.”
“Yeah,” Wes agreed, “Really piss off that fucking guy back there.” He gestured towards Jensen, but Bradley was already forming an idea in his head.
Maybe the party was a good idea…but not because he wanted to invite Briana, fuck that…but maybe you’d come? You came to his last one, even though you got ditched early on, you told him that he saved you that night by coming up and talking to you.  
Yeah, you were very clearly pissed at him right now, rightfully so, but there’s a possibility you may come, and Bradley would be fucking dumb to not take it. He hoped you would see it as an opportunity to scream at him for doing something that he didn’t actually do, then he could bring up the fact that you’re completely out of your mind if you think he would ever cheat on you. Let alone with Briana fucking Prescot. 
So Bradley walked home with Eli and Wes, and he immediately went up to his room. He tossed his bag onto the bed and pulled out his phone, clicking on your contact. After looking at the cute picture he set for you that was taken the same night he asked you to be his girlfriend, he began typing out a text, and he hoped he didn’t sound too desperate, but he kind of was.
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yan-lorkai · 2 days
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"Hello Lorkai! I've got an idea for a headcanon and would like to request it!
Yan!Idia (maybe with platonic Yan!Ortho too if you like) with an extroverted male reader who somehow gets placed in Ignihyde Dorm by the dark mirror (students from other dorms like to joking about the dark mirror putting him in the wrong dorm or something). The reader kinda becomes the mom friend of the dorm, always helping and taking care of everyone, assisting Idia with his Housewarden's work, you know, like the friend who orders food for their shy friends. Thank you very much <3
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Uh... I've might misread the fact that you wanted headcanons. And so I did hcs and a few little drabble 🥺.
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ You are Ignyhide's mom figure, fixing everyone's hair and shirt. Everyone know that whoever is sorted into this dorm is somewhat of an introvert or ambivert. You, though, is an extrovert. You can talk freely, you know how to make friends and enjoy helping others around the campus. Yet, the others don't have this same capacity. And they need someone to take care of them, whence the title of mom, which was just a joke but slowly spread thought Ignyhide completely.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Idia was the most difficult person for you to get closer. He just seems to push away anyone that tried without even realizing but you persisted till you make friends with his brother and him. Taking care of Idia though... Sure, it's difficult sometimes.
"Let's go, Idiiiiiiia!” You tried to pull the antisocial Ignyhide dorm leader out of his bed, wanting to take him outside to sunbathe and eat in the canteen. You've been trying for a while now. Sometimes Idia was a lot like a younger brother to you. Stubborn, obstinate. His hair burning bright in a frightful color as you pulled him and he pushed you.
"Do you hate me, Yuu-shi? I didn't do anything wrong." Idia threw himself to the ground, a scream of pure terror escaping his throat as he struggled against you.
"Listen, either you walk out that door of your own free will or I'm going to throw you over my shoulders and we're going to leave the same way." You threatened him. You had tried every tactic you had on your sleeve today and still none of them were working. Regardless, he felt light enough for you to carry around.
"Yuu-shi wouldn't dare." Idia murmured back, he tried to sound confident and sure of what he is saying.
Yet he didn't stop you from pulling him to his feet this time, even though his legs were visibly tense and he had an annoying expression on his face. Idia knew that you meant what you said. And he wouldn't survive a day if someone saw you carrying him around. His shame would be too big to bear. He would be dead by the end of the night if that was to happen.
He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster, but it was of little use. You opened the door for him and offered him a soft smile, trying to ease all the fear and anxiety he felt. Still, you had good intentions when trying to bring him out of his shell. There was tons of people you want him to meet, tons of things you wanted to do with him, outside from his room where you usually spent your free time. Without talking with him through a floating tablet.
You were working to make him realize that it was not healthy to stay cupped inside of his room all day. It was a slow process but in a few months, you know he'll be fine making phone calls and sending emails.
"C'mon, dude. We don't have all day." You teased him a little, watching him fumbling. He squeaked, hands founding yours to hold, to ground him, cold finger lacing with yours.
Idia didn't like this idea at all. There was so much that he could do at his room. Gaming, bing watching something, reading, studying. So why he have to abandon the comfort of his room?
He wanted to ask your intentions. But you are a mischievous guy, always so secretive, only the sevens may know what passed through your mind this week. Either way, Idia doubt that you would tell him where you're going or why. Sighed, he followed you outside.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ No matter how difficult he was, Idia was still your best friend. Your brother, if you will. Nobody could see one without the other nearby, even if most of the time it was just you and his floating tablet. It was a sweet friendship, most thought. And Idia deserved it. As did Ortho, the young robot was so funny to have around and he was as curious as a child, always asking you questions, even if he could have his answers with a snap of his fingers.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ While you make friends with Idia because you noticed how lonely he was, Ortho just latched onto you when he realized what you were trying to do, helping you in your mission to be Idia's friend. He was like a younger sibling, following you around, sometimes messing with your homework or phone for fun. He was mischievous. And you could never get angry at him because of his very cute puppy eyes. Often times, though, he includes you on his pranks.
"How things going, Yuu-shi?" Idia asked, voice tired and dark circles under his eyes as he stared at his computer. He knew it was you just by the sounds of your footsteps on the carpet.
Ortho programs are special, designed by Idia himself. They are not supposed to malfunction but sometimes errors happen and this is one of those times. Idia told you he would pull an all nighter so he could fix his brother and you, like the good friend you are, scold him for losing sleep. Yet, you brought with you some snacks and soft drinks, and you got to work with him.
The panel located on Ortho's chest glowed red, emitting a high-pitched sound that broke any and all silence that might exist, in addition to Idia's heavy breathing. You knew how to fix Ortho, you'd seen him do it a thousand times.
"I don't think that it's a systemic error, pass me the screwdriver so I can see something, Idia." Idia mumbled something, drinking one of your drinks as he lent you a screwdriver so you could taste your theory before turning back to his computer and start typing something again, running another bunch of tests.
"Be careful!" He advised. You huffed, of course, you were going to be careful.
You slowly began to unscrew the nails holding the panel in place, carefully placing it on the bed next to you. You observed all those wires and pieces, the fire on his chest burning even brighter now, you tried to remember for what which wire was for. Ignyhide was after all known to raise students to be the best in mechanics.
"Actually everything's normal," You murmured to Idia, there was nothing wrong with Ortho that you could see. Red light still emanating from somewhere below his artificial heart. "C'mere and help me, Idiaaa."
The older Shroud laughed at your tone but he complied, crouching down by your side. "Let's see..." Just as Idia reached out to inspect Ortho’s chest panel, the younger Shroud's eyes suddenly lit up, glowing a vivid yellow.
His previously limp body jerked upright and his voice, eerily robotic, boomed through the room: "Error 375, host unable to respond, initiating reboot sequence."
Idia yelped and practically jumped out of his skin, scrambling backward in a flurry of blue flames, his ears hurting from loud Ortho's announcement was. "W-what, error 375, what even is that? Ortho? What did you do?" He stammered, looking between you and Ortho in sheer disbelief, lost.
Then, just as suddenly, Ortho broke into his usual chipper grin. "Just kidding, Nii-san!" The younger Shroud chirped, a playful glint in his eyes. "Got you!"
Idia’s expression was a mix of shock and exasperation, his face and hair bright red from embarrassment. "You little—!"
Ortho giggled innocently, while you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. The prank had been a success.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Aside from moments like that, you also help them with simple things, helping Idia with his dorm leader's duties in general, and playing with Ortho, helping them with laundry and making breakfast. And when you three go out to buy things or something, you always team up with Ortho to tease Idia. It's funny.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ You and Ortho incentives Idia to be more sociable, though that's still not possible so often you three just spend time on the gardens or somewhere more secluded. At least, Idia can leave his room if you and his brother are by his side the entire time. He still have a long way to go to overcome his shyness but you're proud of him and you let him know at every opportunity.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ It's common for you for you to order for you and Idia but if you're tired or unwell, Idia will crawl from his shell and stutter out your favorite order. It's the only time he'll try for real to overcome his fear of talking to other people.
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star--bird · 9 hours
Text
Headcanon that Bruce is suspicious of Clark mainly because he is an alien, but also partially because he is a Midwesterner whose kindness seems very strange to someone from the East Coast. Scenarios:
*Bruce looking outside his window and sees Clark on his roof*
Bruce: What are you doing?
Clark: Oh you know, I was in the neighborhood and remembered you mentioned having a leaky gutter so I thought I'd stop by and fix it.
Bruce, 99% certain Clark is installing listening devices: Okay...
Clark, happily fixing the gutter: No problem neighbor!
-----
(Bruce after stopping by the Kent's house to discuss something and tries to leave)
Clark: Oh, going so soon? The game just started why don't you stay for a quarter? Try one of Pa's home brewed beers? I insist.
(Bruce later tries to leave after the quarter)
Clark: Oh but we just put some brats on the grill, they're from the neighbors farm down the road. Stay! Stay! We have plenty.
(A little while later)
Clark: Oh but before you leave I want to give you some cucumbers from the garden. No, no, Ma insists, her harvest was phenomenal this season but we can't possibly eat it all ourselves! Take some tomatoes too.
(Even later after Bruce was roped into helping Mr. Kent figure out which new computer to buy and getting a free oil change on his car when he tries to leave again)
Clark: Oh but real quick if you have to go let me just give you some leftovers to take home. Also did you hear about...
Bruce, frantically texting Alfred: Code marigold, code marigold. Clark won't let me leave! It's like they are stalling me until a villain shows up. And I think the food is drugged because I keep getting roped into staying.
Alfred: Make sure to bring home some of Ma's potato salad, she has been raving about the new recipe all week.
-----
Bruce wakes up one morning to see his entire estate has been snow plowed. Alfred informs Bruce that Clark was by this morning with his new electric snow plow and did the whole thing. Bruce frantically searches through the snowbanks, looking for secret robots? More listening devices? An alien ship? He isn't quite sure.
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e-dubbc11 · 3 days
Note
Good morning love! I am SO excited for this event and you're prolly gonna hate me, but I'm all in for the angst right now (damn hormones!) so let's go with song selection of Burning House by Cam, with the one and only Billy Russo.
PS: my son's birthday is Sept 29th too!! <3
Hello my love!! Thank you SO much for following me, reading my fics and being such a kind friend to me, I appreciate you! ♥️ And happy early birthday to your son as well! ♥️
So I listened to the song on repeat one morning while getting ready for work and I had to dry my eyes a few times trying to put my makeup on. You really did go for the angst for billy, didn’t you! I hope you like what I did here and did justice to your ask. I’ll link the song at the end. And you know I could never ever hate you 😘
I know the song is called Burning House but the ocean also inspired this one.
Drowning
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Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.
Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader
Warnings: Angst, a lot of it, crying, death (in a way)
Word Count: 1.2K-ish
Summary: Your reoccurring dream haunts you every night. Maybe you said some things you shouldn’t have and wonder if you’ve made a mistake.
As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕
The world was silent except for the lapping of the miniature waves as they calmly knocked against your body. There was a sense of peace to it yet eerie and unknown. The lack of sound encompassed everything, there were no cries for help, no erratic splashing, and no signs of rescue or wreckage from a boat.
It was just you…all alone.
There weren’t any stars to decorate the night sky, just like on all the other nights you had this dream. It was just a blanket of navy, the sky blended seamlessly down into the ocean with a silvery claw of a moon directly above you.
It was the only light against the darkness which wasn’t much.
But there wasn’t anything for miles, in any direction. No land, no light, and not a soul in sight.
These dreams, or more accurately, nightmares, had no real beginning, all you could recall was that as soon as your eyes opened inside the dream, you couldn’t breathe, you were struggling underwater and had to quickly swim to the surface before you ran out of air.
Once you reached the surface, you inhaled sharply to catch your breath, and frantically looked around for something or someone to hold on to but there wasn’t anything or anyone. There was only a vast space with nothing on the horizon from what you could see of it.
The weight of your clothing made it difficult to keep your head above water as you did your best to rotate your legs like an eggbeater, pushing the water underneath your bottom so your head would remain on top of the water.
The lack of wind created more silence which you didn’t know was possible and that’s when the fear and panic set in. Which direction were you supposed to swim in? Toward land? You didn’t see any!
The water chilled you to the bone which made your muscles tight like thick rubber bands and afraid to use them in fear they may snap in half. And who knows what lurked beneath your feet? It could be wildlife or rip currents…you shuddered to think.
But you had to at least TRY to save yourself.
The highly flavored taste of salt was in the air, not just in the water as it splashed against your lips. Gliding on your side, you forcefully pushed the water away from you, propelling you forward and hoping you were headed in the right direction.
After swimming for awhile, you could hear a faint call for help ahead of you. Was there someone else that was stranded and trying to get to safety? Or was your hearing deceiving you?
The faded ethereal glow of the crescent moon gave you some light and in the distance you could see a figure waving his hands in the air, the white shirt he was wearing made it easier to see him.
The man looked familiar and as you swam closer, you realized why. The handsome face, short well-groomed beard, with eyes and hair that matched the late night sky…it was the man you once loved, and his name was Billy Russo.
Your on again, off again relationship with Billy had become too much for you to handle and it was you who ended it this time but you said some things to him that were out of line and that he didn’t deserve.
But you couldn’t take them back, those words were hurtful and no apology in the world could make you move on and forget about them as if nothing happened.
You did it for selfish reasons, to make yourself feel better, and convinced yourself that it was the best thing for you to do. But in the aftermath, you regretted it, wondered if there could have been a better way to handle it, and you had been lost ever since.
Lost in your dreams of a dark, wide open ocean with no direction of where to go or anyone to help you get home.
But there he was, calling out to you for help, and you thought you could make peace and apologize in your dreams by saving him. But while you were free to try and swim to shore, he was confined to stay there…forever.
His ankle was chained to a weight that went straight to the ocean floor and no matter how hard you tried, there was no way for you to get it off and free him.
“Save yourself, sweet girl.” Said Billy, calmly.
His words slipped into your heart like a piece of broken glass, the ache in your chest would be permanent, and you’d never forgive yourself for it if you left him to die alone.
Billy had been alone for his entire life. He didn’t have family or friends except for the Castle family. He would tell you all the time that he didn’t need relationships or want them. “They make you weak.” He would say.
He kept coming back to you, though.
But his constant mood swings and fits of jealousy kept giving you whiplash and you finally had enough.
“You don’t give anyone a reason to love you. You don’t love anyone except yourself and that’s why you’ll probably die alone. You have to deserve to be loved.” You had said.
You were angry and you didn’t mean it but you couldn’t take it back. His physical wounds from his childhood and from war had faded, still visible but faded.
Those awful words you had hissed cut him more deeply than any bullet ever could and they weren’t true. When bones are broken, they heal stronger than they were before but a broken heart never quite heals the same. The pieces never fit exactly as they had before.
Your dreams were a way you could be with him, make everything right, and to make sure he wouldn’t die alone. They were a way you could fix it all.
Telling him to save his strength was useless, he would use his energy to kiss you and tell you he loved you and you reciprocated, using all of your energy to do the same.
Both of you were incredibly stubborn.
“I won’t leave you, Billy.” You would tell him. “Ever again.”
You and Billy fought tirelessly to try and stay above water but eventually, your strength was going to give out, the muscles in your arms and legs burned like white hot fire and felt like they had been shredded to pieces rendering you unable to keep yourself up.
You couldn’t hold on any longer, but at least you were together when the ocean finally opened up and swallowed you whole.
That’s when you would wake up, still confused, still lost, and still not knowing what to do. It made you sob every single time.
These chilling dreams would continue night after night until you fixed what was broken. Was it possible to fix it? Or was it too late? Would he forgive you? COULD he forgive you?
There was only one way to find out.
I've been sleepwalking
Been wandering all night
Trying to take what’s lost and broken
And make it right
I've been sleepwalking
Too close to the fire
But it's the only place that I can hold you tight
In this burning house
Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf
Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads
If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.
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rockhyrax · 7 months
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Spectacle Radio ep.111 :: 02.15.24 :: A car needs hormones
Sergey Kuryokhin - Nemoj (Mister Designer, dir. Oleg Teptsov, 1987) Orbital - Concludiato (The Pentaverate) Victor Mate - Rosszkor szóltak rám (Memory of the Summer of ’74, dir. György Kovásznai, 1974) The Francies - Nightmare (dir. Al Columbia, 201X?) Yeule - Frozen Arrow (The Overture of Prototype, dir. 00 Zhang, 2023) Lydia Lunch & Clint Ruin - Stinkfist (Red Spirit Lake, dir. Charles Pinion, 1993) Nimrod Workman (Appalachian Journey, dir. Mike Dibb, Mark Kidel, & Alan Lomax, 1990) This Mortal Coil - Meniscus (Totally Fucked Up, dir. Greg Araki, 1993) The Time of Moulting (dir. Sabrina Mertens, 2020) Orbital - The Box (Untitled 2) (Wasted, dir. Aryan Kaganof, 2006) Al Columbia - Black Death and the Plague Dead Can Dance - Moon Child End Theme (dir. Agustí Villaronga, 1989) Dieter Moebius - Hoffnungsschimmer (Blue Moon, dir. Karsten Wichniarz, 1986) Jacques Higelin - Jolie Môme (Paprika, dir. Tinto Brass, 1991) … Thomas Brinkman - Olga (John and Jane, dir. Ashim Ahluwalia, 2005) Junk - Wildfire (Rave Macbeth, dir. Klaus Knoesel, 2001) Lliso & Suzo Saiz - El Arte de Morir (Álvaro Fernández Armero, 2000) Sergey Kuryokhin - Sorvalas (Mister Designer) Black Britain - Real Life (Hiding Out, dir. Bob Giraldi, 1987) Marianne Faithful - Broken English (Anybody’s Woman, dir. Bette Gordon, 1981) 808 State - In Yer Face (The Myth of the Liberal Media, dir. Sut Jhally, 1998) Jennifer Warnes - Nights Are Forever (The Twilight Zone) Veronika Fischer - Sehnsucht nach Wärme Chris Petke - Diablo (Rave Macbeth) Roberto de Simone & Nuova Compagnia di Canto Popolare - secondo coro delle lavandaie (La gatta Cenerentola, 1976) Denis Mpunga & Paul K. - Intermezzo II Pierre Desprats - Irrealta (Conann, Bertrand Mandico, 2023) Dieter Moebius - Kriminelle Energie (Blue Moon) Health - Blue Monday (Atomic Blonde) Alex McGowan - Guru Flute (Rave Macbeth) Otomo Yoshihide - Bath Cream 2 (Tokyo Elegy, dir. Aryan Kaganof, 1999) … Robert Ashley - The Park (Privacy Rules) (Perfect Lives, dir. John Sanborn, 1984) Piero Milesi & Daniel Bacalov - La Camera Astratta
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shevr · 2 years
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whats down there
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afrophunk · 5 months
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Was watching Game of Death the other day. Bruce Lee’s character is so funny and sassy(at least in the unreleased scenes), I just had to put my guy in this iconic pose to show my gratitude
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He’s so right to do this for me specifically actually
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Ghostlights Prompt Event: Blind Date with a Prompt
aaaaah I'm doing it, I'm gonna post some of my work!
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BAM!!
My first time ever posting anything and it's ghostlights, typical. Anyway this was tons of fun to do and I managed to pump this out in like two days. I really hope the smaller details are easy to see bc I had a lot of fun doing things like Dukes heart blush and eyes and Dannys electric scars and it would be a shame if Tumbler crunchifed it too much like Insta usually did.
The prompt I got was Duke is Danny's secret admirer and sharing headphones (that's a lie, it was actually sharing headphones and 1930 but I had no clue how I would do that so I just rerolled and got lucky lol). I might end up doing some more idk I've just never been this inspired before :>
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As someone who hasn’t listened to malevolent…..what’s going on? A mean, you have a gay elder ich entity that’s just a smaller form of a normal entity that almost of gaslighted (maybe kidnapped) into being okay with it. Then you have a religious fellow (priest?) that’s into this actually instant man. And said insane man doesn’t know how to wrap it up and-
It's all gay sex hope this helps!
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toytulini · 4 days
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man the thing about beauty standards and being ugly and being pretty and being insecure is that ultimately you do just kinda have to Decide that youre pretty. like ultimately thats how you become pretty, or hot, or sexy. you have to just Decide that you Are. you have to recognize that its made up, its arbitrary, its subjective, and that people might disagree with you about it, and as much as you are able, you need to completely and utterly disregard their opinions on your appearance, and decide that youre pretty now. and THEN.
you need to find beauty in "ugly". you need to recognize that ugly is made up, that its arbitrary, that its subjective, and you need to be able to find the beauty in it all. and this means you cant bodyshame people. you cant body shame shitty celebs or politicians. you need to base your criticisms on the substance of their character and misdeeds and unhinged horrific opinions and not give a shit about what they look like. you cant go calling people ugly for being shitty. you cant go calling people ugly for looking A Way You Dont Like.
and then if you wanna really galaxy brain this shit you start using ugly as endearment. OBVIOUSLY do not fucking call other human beings ugly. that shit is far too loaded, its just Rude. Dont call specific features of people or even characters ugly cos thats also too loaded. as a term it has baggage. but you can see the ugly in tacky, loud, garish clothing, and it can be Good. you can see the ugly in a distinctive, horrible tiny car from the 90s, and it can be good. you can see the ugly in animals that have evolved to look the way they do, without a single thought of what humans find appealing. you can see the beauty and the freedom in "Ugliness". you can break out of this shit altogether and feel nothing but disdain for anyone who stoops to insulting your appearance if they disagree with you about shit. you can get completely out of the cave of these beauty standards. you can find it so freeing to revel.in letting yourself be ugly. in recognizing that the way you look and exist might be ugly to some people, and youre out of the cave enough to simply recognize. thats just your opinion and it doesnt matter. didnt ask.
you can look at ppl arguing about the correct amount of skincare products to use daily, the Correct Amount of makeup, and whether or not its radical to conform to beauty standards or defy them and argue about is it really conforming if visible makeup pisses men off, and you can say, well I dont care about any of that, I recognize the societal pressures of flawless skin and all that but you see,
I just want to look like a silly little clown :o3
#toy txt post#i wasnt gonna end this on that silly note. but then i had to#ugly#pretty#beauty standards#not saying its easy. not saying you have to do this#but like if youre tired of feeling insecure about your face your fashion. you gotta just figure out what you like and lean in#and you gotra recognize this shit is made up and subjective and arbitrary and you shouldnt be doing it for anyone else ever#i used to be insecure about a few features of mine that i feared made me Ugly. and then i Decided to try to find it pretty.#it sounds so stupid and made up but like literally i just. Decided. im pretty now. this is pretty. this shit is made up. why am i listening#to you. you dont know shit. im pretty now. AND THEN i decided. actually. im ugly on purpose now but not in a way that has much to do with#my actual appearance so much as my complete disregard for your opinion on my appearance. you gotta do it for you. you gotta dress for#yourself#ANYWAY#before anyone comes in with how beauty standards are often externally enforced via peer and social pressure:#yea bud im a human being on planet earth. im aware. thats why i said: as much as you are able. i recognize i have a number of privileges in#this regard that not everyone does. the way im given more space and freedom to dress like a little freak as a thin white person etc#but like i still had and have societal pressure to shave my legs and underarms to conform. theres societal and peer pressure to wear makeup#and i just. dont. the legs thing is less noticeable tho ill admit cos i also Hate Shorts but thats a whole complicated can of worms#which also involves i am not exposing myself to ticks like that are u insane#anyway. yea. the other magical thing about this philosophy of mine is that you also just dont have to. like you can just Ignore Me.#you can keep doing what youre doing and thats fine too#but genuinely if you struggle with insecurity about appearance you gotta just. this is the fake it til u make it shit#i decided im pretty now and it got easier to take selfies bc i was pretty then#doing art and exploring different faces for ocs and making them look different from the conventional beauty standards. also helped#and like dont get me wrong theres still shit im vain about appearance wise that doesnt matter. i still like to style my hair before i leave#the house etc. im still looking in the cave sometimes#but perhaps one day i will be as blissfully uncaring about ppls perception of me as a fuckin goby#anyway. anyway anyway anyway#if you do this things get so much easier. but you dont have to. i have no power over you
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chiropteracupola · 1 year
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It was on this day in 1745 that a small gray lamb was born to a ewe on a hillside some miles from the town of Gant. This is of no significance to anyone but the lamb and the ewe and the shepherd, but history is made no less of small things that go on around the edges than it is of kings and battles and heresies.
- The Hidden Almanac for April 11, 2016
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