#Owen Chase

[even-in-arcadia]

I have been rereading Owen Chase's The Shipwreck of the Whaleship Essex (in the wake of finishing Whale Weekly) and the speed with which the whole calamity transpires continues to astonish me:

Not a word was spoken for several minutes by any of us; all appeared to be bound in a spell of stupid consternation; and from the time we were first attacked by the whale, to the period of the fall of the ship, and of our leaving her in the boat, more than ten minutes could not certainly have elapsed!

Almost more though, is the depth of shock and tragedy conveyed in the very minimal dialogue and description of the other whaleboat crews upon returning to what had been their entire world less than an hour before:

They had but shortly before discovered that some accident had befallen us, but of the nature of which they were entirely ignorant. The sudden and mysterious disappearance of the ship was first discovered by the boat-steerer in the captain’s boat, and with a horror-struck countenance and voice, he suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, my God! where is the ship?” Their operations upon this were instantly suspended, and a general cry of horror and despair burst from the lips of every man, as their looks were directed for her, in vain, over every part of the ocean. They immediately made all haste towards us. The captain’s boat was the first that reached us. He stopped about a boat’s length off, but had no power to utter a single syllable: he was so completely overpowered with the spectacle before him, that he sat down in his boat, pale and speechless. I could scarcely recognise his countenance, he appeared to be so much altered, awed, and overcome, with the oppression of his feelings, and the dreadful reality that lay before him. He was in a short time however enabled to address the inquiry to me, “My God, Mr. Chase, what is the matter?” I answered, “We have been stove by a whale.”

[beheworthy]

Which Chris hairstyle do you like the most?

this is my favorite-est ever:

and i do like these two as well:

(i headcanon that this would be thor's hairdo in his final epilogue ;) )

[semper-legens]

157. The Wreck of the Whaleship Essex, by Owen Chase

Owned: No, library Page count: 141 My summary: In the 1820s, the whaleship Essex was wrecked by a whale. Her crew would partake on a harrowing journey over thousands of miles, their supplies dwindling and their options narrowing. This is the account of the survivors, and what they experienced in their days on the ocean. My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

Long-time readers of this blog will know that I have a special interest in real-life cases of survival cannibalism. It's fascinating, okay? I'm always interested in hearing about extreme situations, and what surviving such things will do to a person's psychology, as well as the different ways that different groups of people react to stress and survival situations. My particular interest is in the Uruguayan plane crash in the 1970s, but as an avowed Boat Person I am also interested in the many terrible things that happened on sailing ships, and the Essex is one of the more famous of that sort.

She was a whaler, sent from Nantucket to hunt whales in the Pacific, when a sperm whale struck her (a very rare occurrence) and sunk her. The men aboard were forced to try and get to safety on the ship's whaleboats. Now, the majority of the crew were white, and vetoed the idea of sailing for the closest islands, the Marquesas, because they thought the native people would eat them. Oh, the irony. So instead of sailing with the wind for 1200 miles, they would need to sail south for 1000 miles, then east for another 3000 miles to catch the westerly winds. Good sense was not aboard any of the whaleboats.

They made it to Henderson Island fine, and three men decided to stay behind on the island while the rest carried on. (The three were later rescued.) Seventeen men in three whaleboats set out to Easter Island. The whaleboats became separated - one was never seen again, though a similar boat washed up nearby with three skeletons, they have not been conclusively identified as the missing sailors. On the other two boats, they ran out of food. One set of survivors started to eat the dead. The other drew lots for who would be sacrificed; the unfortunately named Owen Coffin drew the short stray, an 18 year old cabin boy and the captain's cousin. He was killed and eaten. In total, only five of the seventeen men in the boats survived, including the captain, cabin boy Thomas Nickerson, and first mate Owen Chase, the narrators of this particular tale.

Chase's narrative is the longest and takes up the bulk of this book. It's suspiciously complimentary of himself - since his is the only detailed account, it's important to take his claims with a pinch of salt. Were the black sailors really stealing from the white sailors? Was he heroically responsible for basically every good thing that happened? Did he and his boat-mates only eat the bodies of the already-dead? It's an engaging, if harrowing, narrative nonetheless, tempered a little by the 19th century style of the writing. Much is made of the fact that Herman Mieville read this account and was inspired to write Moby Dick, which is kind of annoying for me, because I only wanted to know the details of the Essex, not some other book I'm not reading, but anyway. Regardless of that, it was an interesting read!

Next up, something completely different - two women in medieval England.

[karioke13]

Picture of the deleted scene 🥺

’In the Heart of the Sea’ Deleted Scene (x)

[tadhannahj]

the devil works hard but american propaganda works harder

[tylrowens]

This one to the east has the sky all to herself.

Twisters (2024)

[justalittlechocolatemilkshake]

[amelia-mariee]

Everyone say thank you to Lee Isaac Chung’s editor for vouching for us

[kaizsche]

his eyes chasing after her TWISTERS (2024)

[peachesandcreames]

A Good Ol' Southern Boy 🔥🥵

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

Glen Powell in action/adventure movies where his love interest is someone who's clearly skittish and closes themselves off from relationships due to events/traumas in their past

[crappymixtape]

hang on tight, baby • part one

NAVIGATION -> PART I •  PART II •  PART III favored to win in barrel racing for the upcoming rodeo, you’re out in the corral practicing when your obnoxious neighbor, tyler owens, swings by to say hi, but when the wind picks up you both won’t have a choice but to trust each other • 18+  | ( 3.0k – TW: natural disasters, tornado, injuries • witty banter as foreplay, fluff in their own way, enemies to idiots in love, tyler owens x reader )

H A N G O N T I G H T, B A B Y • P A R T O N E 🎶 devil always made me think twice, chris stapleton

Clouds stretched overhead, lazy liked pulled taffy as the sun beat down on you in the midday heat. You’d been up since the first fingers of light had crept up over the horizon, dew still clinging to the long stalks of wheat in the early morning, but as the day spun on summer made sure to remind you what it was capable of.

That June in Oklahoma wasn’t anything to mess with.

Sweat beading across your forehead, you had half a mind to toss your hat over the corral fence but it was the only thing keeping you from getting sunburned. Pushing at your windswept hair with a gloved hand you tucked the flyaways out of your face and clicked your tongue at your horse, Tilly, to get back into position.

“C’mon, girl. One more run and then we’ll call it,” you coaxed, readjusting your grip on the saddle horn and giving her neck a pat. Tilly snorted, her hooves stamping in the dirt, anxious to take off again around the three wooden barrels dotting across your little makeshift arena. “That’s it, easy…” you murmured.

Barrel racing horses were built different, like they were brought into the world locked and loaded with a fire burning in them – they lived to ride like this. A black flash of muscle and tension set loose like a snapped rubber band and honestly? You lived for it too.

Tucking your chest tight against her mane, you knotted your fingers in the reigns, sucked in a breath and held it steady in your lungs. Three…two…one…

“Yah!” you kicked your heels to Tilly’s flanks and she took off like a gunshot. Hooves thundering across the ground, winding a tight circle around the first barrel in a blur as you ticked off the seconds in your head.

Seven, eight, nine – you rounded the second barrel – ten, eleven – you approached the third – twelve – and then you heard it. A blast of drums and twangy guitar riffs, a Chris Stapleton track followed by a loud engine backfire and it threw both you and Tilly off track.

Your booted foot smashed into the side of the last barrel and you yelped, Tilly kicking her back legs in a start with a high pitched whinny.

“Whoa, whoa–easy!” Pulling back on the reigns you soothed her, hands smoothing down her mane. Shh, s’alright girl, and she slowly calmed, cantering to a stop just at the edge of the corral where you could finally see who’d come tearing up the driveway.

Tyler Owens.

“Well hey, sweet stuff. Damn, you were lookin’ good for a minute – what happened there at the end?” he hollered out his open cab window and it made your hands ball into fists.

Brows pinched together and lips twisting into a deep scowl, you tugged at Tilly to head back to the gate, “I told you not to call me that, Owens.”

“What? Sweet stuff? What’s wrong with that?” you could hear the grin in his tone, saw him in your head without even having to look. Stupid smirk, stupid aviators, stupid toothpick and stupid belt buckle.

“I ain’t sweet,” you shot back and it pulled a chuckle out of him, a low, rough sound that put a flicker of heat between your ribs.

He cut the engine on his truck, boots shuffling in the grass as he hopped out, and the heavy slam of his door told you today just wasn’t gonna be your day.

Tyler tutted at you, teasing. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Sawyer?” and that snagged your attention.

Dismounting faster than he could blink, you were out of the saddle and marching across the corral to kick at the fence board his boot was resting on. He stumbled back at the force of it and laughed again, flicking his toothpick off into the wheel ruts of the driveway.

“Alright, alright,” he held his hands up in defense and took his sunglasses off, tongue running along his bottom lip, “Didn’t come here to get my ass kicked.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you snarked, pulling your hat off to fan at your face, “You know I’m trainin’ right now.”

“Mmhm,” he agreed, notching his foot back between the fence boards and leaning his elbows lazy on top, “But I also know it’s pushin' a hundred degrees and the humidity’s sittin’ at 50%. You been drinkin’ water?”

You swallowed, mouth dry — No — and rolled your eyes before turning to walk Tilly back to the gate, “I’m fine.”

He pushed off the fence and chased a line around the corral, hollering after you, “Betcha didn’t know I’m almost as good at chasing bullshit as I am tornados!”

You groaned, dumbass, and reached the gate with Tilly in tow, but Tyler’s hand was on the latch before you could get to it.

“So. I call bullshit,” he said again, a little out of breath and eyes stuck on the way your lips twitched against a smile. “What d'you say we go get an iced tea or something,” he opened the gate and somehow you managed to pass through without so much as a glance in his direction.

Stick to your guns.

“No, Tyler.”

“Ah, c’mon,” he insisted as you pushed past him to the stable, “You and I both know it’s too hot to be out here. So does Tilly.”

But you ignored him, walked Tilly into her stall and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew Tyler had propped himself up on the other side. Arms folded over the top of the gate and hat tipped back just a little, but you went to work anyway undoing Tilly’s bridle, moving easily down to work at the buckle on the saddle and heaved it off her back.

“Least make yourself useful,” you huffed, saddle in hand and shoving it over the gate into Tyler’s chest.

“Shit–” he grunted, fingers scrambling to grab hold of it. A frown tugged down at the corners of his mouth, but he walked the saddle to the tack room anyway and came back with a renewed sense of purpose. “C’mon, Sawyer. Just a nice cold iced tea between friends?”

Sawyer. The nickname he’d gifted you when you’d moved in next door, a nod to your home town – Sawyer, Oklahoma. The home you’d left. The one you tried to forget. The place that held too many memories, too much hurt, and made your chest ache every time you thought about it.

You stopped brushing Tilly and let her get after a much needed drink of water, heaving a sigh from your lungs. It was cooler in the stable and without the sun beating down on you, you didn’t need your button down anymore. Fingers moving to undo the damp, long-sleeved, shirt clinging to your skin, it sighed with relief as the fabric shifted to let the breeze sweep over you.

“Tyler. I need to focus on training,” you grumbled glancing up at him, but it was mistake.

Without his sunglasses, you could see him tracking the movement of your hands. The buttons as they slipped through the loops one at a time. The heady mix of your sweat and shampoo a sweet scent lingering in the air between you and it made you feel dizzy. Made you want something you knew you shouldn’t have. Tyler knew it too as he swallowed thick, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw ticking as he bit down on the feeling flickering in his chest.

“Promise I won’t ask you again if you still hate me in an hour,” he said, tone a little strangled, and your lips betrayed you, the corner of your mouth tugging up in the world’s tiniest smile.

“Honest?” you challenged, quirking a skeptical brow and he winked.

“Cross my heart, hope to die,” he traced his fingers over his chest and you swore right then and there you’d be the one to kill him if he put even one toe out of line.

❝ THE MINUTE THAT I SAW YOU WALKIN’ OVER, I FIGURED I WAS DIGGIN’ MY GRAVE. AND YOU HAD THE SHOVEL, I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE, BUT YOU’RE JUST THE KIND OF TROUBLE I CRAVE. ❞

Your property was a few miles out of town, a small farmhouse with an old horse stable on seventy-eight acres you rented to the Calhoun brothers for their fescue. It was a lot of work. The house badly needed updating, but it was all you could afford with your winnings from nationals last year and in the end, it didn’t matter – if you hadn't gotten a fresh start you’d have suffocated.

So, a little over a year ago when you’d pulled up the dirt drive in your red Ford pickup, Tilly’s trailer in tow, you felt like you could breathe again. Felt like this little patch of earth there on the outskirts of Tulsa was just what you needed, but when you started hauling boxes out of the truck bed you heard the one thing you didn’t need coming up the road.

Your neighbor.

Tyler Owens.

Renowned twister chaser and resident hot air balloon with an ass that could make even the most beat up pair of Wranglers look good. You knew before he even opened his mouth that he was trouble, but he was easy on the eyes and – surprisingly – pretty helpful.

When your roof sprung a leak during a particularly bad downpour he came over. Climbed up the ladder with a hammer and nails hanging off the tool belt on his hips and had it patched in twenty minutes.

When your chickens got loose and took off into the Calhoun’s fescue he and his horse Banjo helped corral them back up and into the coop before they did too much damage to the crops.

And when he’d found you at the Tin Bucket last year, too many drinks deep after losing at the Fourth of July rodeo, he drove you home. Held your hair out of your face while you puked and cried and spilled your guts to him in a muddled mess and didn’t say anything after. Kept your secrets just that, secret.

“Still with me, Sawyer?”

Tyler’s voice cut into your thoughts and you blinked over at him from the other side of the truck bench.

“What?”

“You’re not here,” he chuckled, brows pinched with just the smallest bit of worry. “You’re somewhere else.”

“Oh,” you felt your cheeks grow hot and tossed your gaze out your window, “Just thinkin’ about Friday. Adeline Stout got a 13:20 last weekend, I gotta beat that to qualify for nationals.”

“Hm,” he hummed, thumbs tapping on the steering wheel, “Seems like you had it earlier.”

“Yeah, ’til you drove up.”

Tyler huffed a laugh under his breath and clicked his tongue, “Sorry. Should’a called first.”

Silence settled in the cab and the air between you buzzed, felt like static, charged and pulling taut with something loaded until the truck bumped over the curb of the parking lot and shattered it in an instant.

You couldn’t jump out of his rig fast enough and didn’t wait for him as you cut a path over the asphalt and into the dingy little diner, the bell overhead tinkling happily.

“Howdy, sugar!” Dot greeted you with her big, friendly smile, cowboy hats dangling from her earrings as she gave the man at the counter a refill on his coffee.

“Hey, Dot,” you couldn’t help smiling back, the bell on the door jingling again letting you know Tyler had finally caught up.

“Dottie, you are lookin’ fine as ever,” Tyler grinned, smooth like butter and the older woman chuckled, hand on her hip as she watched him pick out a booth.

“And you’re lucky I’m pushin’ seventy,” she teased back with a wink.

“Age is just a number!” Tyler played along and you rolled your eyes.

“We’ll take a couple iced teas, please,” you cut in, Dottie giving you a knowing smile and it made your cheeks flush again.

“And fries,” Tyler added, sliding into a booth by the window and you followed suit, sitting across from him on the glittering red plastic of the seat.

“You got it, hoss,” Dot nodded, hollering the order back over her shoulder to the kitchen and pouring two big glasses of her famous sweet iced tea.

Picking at the peeling vinyl table top, your knee bounced, a silent protest at having to be still for a minute.

You always made sure to keep yourself busy. To keep your mind from wandering off back home and everything that came with it, and sitting across from Tyler Owens at the quiet little diner while Dolly Parton sang overhead about working nine to five wasn’t doing you any favors.

“So,” Tyler started, dragging out the ‘o’ and lifting his brows at you, “How’re the girls?”

The girls. The chickens.

You deadpanned him and shook your head, propped your chin in your hand with your elbow on the table.

“They’re fine.”

“Good, good. And the Calhouns?”

“Also fine,” you shot him a look, a side-eye glance, but he only smiled.

“And did you get your boots worked in for Friday?”

“Tyler,” you firmed, turning finally to look at him straight on and his smile faded.

“What?”

“All this–this small talk and being chummy and whatever, it’s just–”

“Just what?” he asked, leaning forward on the table toward you and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“What’s your game?” you leveled, meeting his gaze despite the way he had your pulse fluttering against your neck and his lips curved up.

“No game. Just bein’ a good neighbor.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and leaned forward just a little more. “Thought you said you were good at chasin’ bullshit,” you pushed and he burned, a flush of red from the collar of his white t-shirt all the way up to his cheeks.

“Alright, two iced teas and some fries. You need anything else, peaches?” Dot cut right between the two of you with a couple of glasses and a red plastic basket piled high with shoestring french fries.

“Thank you, thank you,” Tyler recovered, thankful for the out and took the basket from Dot. “Think that’ll do it for now.”

“Mmhm,” Dot murmured, clicking her long pink nails on the table top. “You two be good.”

“Yes, ma’am,” fell out of Tyler’s mouth automatically as she left you it.

You picked up a bottle of ketchup and squeezed some into the corner of the basket, swirling a fry around in it and lifting it to your lips to take a bite. Maybe you should be nicer to Tyler, should give him a chance, the benefit of the doubt, but you weren’t about to be made a fool again. Weren’t ready to put your walls down yet even if he was mostly sweet and only a little sour – the fun kind – but maybe it wasn’t fair.

“Gonna be outta town on Tuesday,” Tyler started, looking over at you through the long sweep of his lashes, green eyes meeting yours across the table. “In case you punch a hole through your wall or something.”

“Ha, ha. Should do stand up.”

He grinned. “You wanna come with me?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“With you?”

“Yeah, I gotta go pick up a case of rockets for our next video series.”

You scoffed, half-laugh half-nerves, but didn’t say no and his grin widened, eyes narrowed and almost closed with the way he was smiling so big.

“Pick you up at six,” he grabbed a bunch of fries and shoved them into his mouth, “Includes complimentary coffee.”

And something in you melted with the way he was looking at you. The way you could hear the tease in his tone softening and shifting more sincere and you cracked and finally gave him a real, honest-to-god smile.

“Fine,” you surrendered as he slapped a hand on the table and made you jump.

“Hell yeah,” he buzzed and you laughed, dropping your gaze to your lap so he couldn’t see you blushing.

“Keep your pants on,” you chided and the laugh that pushed from his lungs was hard enough to made his head tip back on the seat, but then you felt a buzz in your pocket.

You weren’t expecting a call.

Then Tyler’s buzzed on the table top.

And Dot’s from back behind the counter.

And the farmer’s at the booth behind you and when the siren sounded from down the street your stomach dropped.

“Shit,” Tyler breathed.

Jolting up from the table he pressed a hand to the window and looked out across the plains stretching out ahead of you. Cotton candy clouds turned dark and heavy, curling in on themselves and tinged in an eerie yellow and when he finally turned to look back at you, the feeling in your stomach twisted into something more ominous.

A storm was coming.

[ NOTE -> THIS IS PART 1 OF A 3 PART SERIES – STAY TUNED FOR THE LAST INSTALLMENT! ]

crappymixtape™ • tyler owens / twisters masterlist to come!  ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[megameatymatt]

Die For Me - Matt Sturniolo

Toxic Fwb Stoner!Matt X Reader

Summary: Matt and Y/N are fwb ( friends with benefits), But what if Y/N wants more?

slightly proof read

WARNINGS: smut, toxic, soft!dom matt, mentions of alcohol, drugs, and weed, overthinking??? angst??

requested?: nope

word count: 801

A/N: I apologize in advance, Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! stay slutty ok bye💋

Y/n - Pink

Matt- blue

"Pull up, baby, I need you to slide for me You know how I love it when you ride on me"

9:15

You shuffle through your makeup drawer preparing for a date with a guy you met a few weeks ago. The air was filled with the scent of your perfume and the soft hum of your favourite playlist. As you apply your mascara your phone buzzes with a new message from Matt.

It read: 

"Hey Y/N can u come over I miss you"

"Chris and Nick aren't home.."

"pretty please"

You pause, your fingers hovering over the screen. You know the routine with Matt—hang out, get high,  then fuck. It’s always been straightforward, but lately, your feelings have grown more complicated. You love him in a way that goes beyond just fun and games, and it’s starting to hurt.

You text back:

"I’m actually getting ready for a date rn. I’m not sure..."

Matt’s response was fast, almost too fast:

"Please baby, we can make it quick"

"please I fucking need you"

You’ve been here before, caught between wanting to protect yourself and the irresistible urge to be near Matt. You can’t ignore the fact that you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak if you go through with this. You want more from him, but he’s always been clear about not wanting anything serious.

A sigh escapes your lips as you consider your choices. The date tonight could turn into something special, But the lure of Matt and the hope that he might feel the same way you do is hard to ignore.

With a heavy heart, you decide to respond:

"be there in 10"

"i love you"

Your stomach fills with butterflies.

You decided to take the long way to his house. The drive was like a distraction, a temporary escape from the gnawing sadness of your situation. You even tried blasting music as loud as you possibly could, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Matt. You knew you'd end up in his bed, and you weren't mad. But you felt stuck

9:45

He greets you with his usual easy smile and a warm hug, and you both slip into his bedroom. "Want a puff?" He says holding the blunt in front of you. "I'm good. I've actually been trying to quit"

He nods and turns his music down. before laying down on his bed beside you. "I missed you so much Y/N". You hated how your stomach flipped and spun every time he was near you. You turn your head and smile "I've missed you more matt." He's already buzzed, He's more giddy than usual. He still has a smile on his face while his eyes shoot from your eyes and your lips over and over again. 

"You're the prettiest girl i've ever met" He says staring into your eyes. "I love you." It's now you realize he's been drinking as well, you smell it in his breath, and there's a bottle of tequila on his nightstand. 

You hated how you loved him but before you knew it, your body flew on top of him as your lips connected. 

He quickly undresses you and pulls down your shorts. Your hands travel every inch of his body as he places hickeys down from your neck to your tits. 

"Y/N" He moans, "I need you, Fuck, you make me crazy".  "Ride me baby" And without a second thought you align his dick with your pussy and start moving.

"Fuck matt!" You squeal as Matt starts thrusting into you. Tears fall from the outer corners of your eyes as you dig your nails deep into his shoulders

"Matt" You whine "i know baby, i know. just take it f'me okay?" He moans as his fingers dig into your hips. It feels like pure ecstasy, But just like ecstasy, it's addictive. It'll be the death of you two one day, But right now it's bliss.

10:40

"I'm close Matt, so close'' You choke out. "Cum f'me baby " That's all he needed to say as you release all over his cock. He came shortly after And you collapse on his chest. 

a familiar mix of pleasure and sadness wash over you. You love these moments, the closeness and the connection, but the underlying feelings you had for him felt like a knife to the heart.

You rest your head on his shoulder as his fingers comb through your hair."You were so good for me baby" He says. His voice is deep and raspy. "i love you"

You knew you shouldn't take it seriously, it only translates to: "I love when you give in and we fuck" But it still made you smile. But instead of saying it back you try and ignore it knowing he probably didn't mean it, and he probably never will

Taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re

[bradfordchens]

knee to hip

She doesn't talk about the red, puckered line down her right thigh.

post-twisters (2024). kate/tyler, rated t. spoilers for the movie.

[cowpokezuko]

Worst Toxic Workplace Polycule

Been watching a lot of House MD and Torchwood and I would like to pose a question to the good people of tumblr.

Which toxic workplace polycule is worse?

please rb for a larger sample size.

[waywardnerd67]

Cowboy Chasing

Title: Cowboy Chasing Summary: Chasing storms was simple. Chasing the tornado chasing cowboy was a whole different story. Main Characters: Tyler Owens, Reader Pairing: Tyler Owens, Reader Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Fluff/Angst Word Count: 2481 A/N: My first fic in over a year thanks to a certain tornado chasing cowboy :) I used my taglist from over a year ago. If you don’t want to be tag please let me know (no hard feelings, I totally get it).

“Are you sure?” Her best friend asked as (Y/N) continued to pack her duffel bag.

She sighed, “Yes, I’m sure. When he left we had a fight and I can’t live with myself if anything were to happen to him.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been chasing?”

Flashes of that last night played in her mind, “A few years…”

Her best friend took her hands, “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Also, tell Boone he still owes me a dance.” They started laughing as (Y/N) zipped up her bag.

“Will do. I’ll call you when I get to Enid.” (Y/N) hugged her friend then made her way out of their apartment.

(Y/N) knew the drive to Enid, Oklahoma like the back of her hand. Every storm season that is where the chasers would gather to prep for the first chase. Checking the forecasts, she knew there was a chance the Wranglers would already be out on the road heading south towards Oklahoma City. She pulled out her phone, hitting Dani’s number and sending her a voice memo.

“Hey, I’m heading out to you guys. If you leave Enid, could you let me know. I appreciate it. Oh and don’t tell Tyler. Love ya.”

Dani’s response was immediate, “As I live and breathe, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Girl, it’s been too long. We’re heading south on the 81 towards Kingfisher in the morning. Miss and love ya.”

Another voice memo came through, “Also, your secret is safe with me. Does this mean you’re back?”

(Y/N) shook her head. The thought of chasing again was exciting and terrifying. There was no way she could go back. Not after all the time that had passed and not after the last chase. No, this trip was for closure and nothing more.

Between several cans of Monster and singing to the top of her lungs, (Y/N) made it to Enid by one in the morning. A soft smile spreading across her face seeing all the cars, vans and rigs of fellow chasers. Two groups stood out the most. The pristine white trucks and van of Storm Par were parked all by themselves. Javi must have gotten more money from Riggs noticing their team now having a fourth truck code name Toto.

Then there was the all too familiar red Dodge Ram parked in the middle of the lot. (Y/N) couldn’t believe they still had the beat up camper and van. With their YouTube channel taking off, she figured they would have at least updated the camper. Knowing Tyler, he probably used any money to go to helping the families and loved ones after a tornado. Humanitarian was one of the qualities that had attracted her to chasing with them and following Tyler Owens wherever the wind blew him.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice called out.

“Hiya Boone.” She turned around to see Boone, Dexter, Lilly and Dani all walking back from the small 24 hour diner.

“‘Bout time you came back out with us! We missed you!” He pulled her into a hug before everyone else surrounded her.

For the first time in years, (Y/N) finally felt at home again. The years she spent chasing storms with her Wrangler family were the best years of her life. Until it all went to shit.

“Well, well, who do we have here?”

His southern drawl never failed to send goosebumps over her skin, “Hey Tyler, how are you?”

“I’m good, (Y/N). I’m very good.” He smirked.

Dani smacked his shoulder, “Don't mind him, he’s been watching Top Gun Maverick on repeat.”

“You look good, Tyler.” (Y/N) couldn’t help her eyes from traveling down the length of his body.

There was nothing noticeably different about him since she last saw him a year ago. He still wore the same blue jeans, brown boots, Wrangler belt buckle and dark button down. The only thing missing was his Stetson and she knew exactly where it would be.

She noticed he was taking inventory of her as well as those dark green eyes gave her once over, “You look good too. So, what brings you out here?”

“I was hoping to talk to you before you went out tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

Tyler motioned for her to follow him to his motel room. (Y/N) waved to her family when Boone stopped her.

“You’re not staying, are you?” He asked with dark chocolate puppy eyes.

She shook her head then said, “Annie wanted me to let you know that you still owe her a dance. You should come on by and square your debt with her after this storm season.”

His smile was infectious, “I will. It was damn good to see ya, (Y/N).”

She turned around to see Tyler leaning against the door frame of his room. She stepped inside, chuckling to herself seeing some things truly would never change. He had clothes laid out everywhere drying. An empty pizza box and three beers out of six left sitting on his table. The TV was on showing infomercials until the morning news came on.

“Ya know, if you’re wanting to head back out I don’t know if we have room for you. We have a big shot British reporter going out with us this year.” Tyler offered her a bottle of water which she accepted.

“Reporter? Wow… you’ve really hit the big time.” She didn’t mean for it to come out as snarky as it did, “Hopefully, they knew what they were getting themselves into.”

Tyler flopped down on the bed, crossing his ankles and resting his head on one of his arms. Seeing his body stretched out brought up older memories of their early chasing years. The thrill of getting close to a tornado and the adrenaline they would need to work off when they got to a motel for the night. (Y/N) knew that body as well as she knew her own and now she could feel her cheeks flushing.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” He asked, a knowing smirk on his handsome face.

She rolled her eyes, knowing she played right into his little trap. He knew she would think of the good times seeing him stretched out like that. Knowing she couldn’t help to be nostalgic and remember the good ole days. As well he could read her, she could read him. (Y/N) sat down on the opposite bed taking a long drink of her water.

“The last time I was with you, we had a huge fight.” She looked over at him as he moved to mirror her sitting position.

He leaned forward on his elbows, clasping his hands together, “Mmhmm.”

“We both said some hurtful things and I wanted to clear the air between us.”

His green eyes locked onto hers, “You’re wanting an apology.”

She sighed, “No. I want you to know that… that I care about you and the team. I didn’t want you leading them into unnecessary danger for more followers or views.”

“If I remember correctly you said that I was and I quote, A reckless tornado chasing cowboy with a death wish.”

She flinched, “I know. I was frustrated and we had just lost…”

Tyler stood up, running his hand through his golden hair, “Theo knew what he was getting into when he started chasing with us. Hell, he had watched you chase well before he joined us. We all know the dangers of this job, but it’s worth it if we can help the people here.”

It was the same speech Tyler had given her a year ago. She clenched her fists on top of her knees, unable to keep the anger from flooding her system.

“Damn it Tyler, he should have never been in your damn truck! He should have been with Dex and Dani in the camper, but you wanted him to experience the real thing. What did that get him?”

She covered her mouth as Tyler’s eyes widened, “Tyler, I’m… I didn’t…”

He stormed over to the door, “If you think that I don’t spend every moment of every day not blaming myself for your brother’s death then you never knew me.”

He was gone with the door slamming shut. (Y/N) punched the bed beside her to release some of the rage overwhelming her.

“Fuck!” She yelled out before the tears started to fall, “This was not how I wanted it to go.”

After an hour, (Y/N) left the room in search of Tyler. She knew exactly where he would be heading towards his truck. He was sitting up on the roof tinkering with some the gauges.

“I’m sorry.” She said, climbing up onto the bed of the truck, “I really didn’t come here to fight again.”

“Then why did you come here? It’s been a year since you told me to get out of your life for good. Why now?” He never looked up at her.

She carefully sat up on the roof, “I hated the way we left things. I would never be able to live with myself if anything happened to you and the last thing I had said to you was I hate you.”

He glanced up at her, “You don’t hate me?”

“I think you know that I don’t. I… I never could hate you.” She sighed, “Tyler, what we had was special. We both shared the same goals in life and careers. We were good together, but losing my brother changed me. All I could think about was I couldn’t lose you the same way I lost him.”

(Y/N) looked up when she felt his hand cover hers, “I’m sorry.” he whispered.

“Me too.” She squeezed his hand and a spark ignited in her chest.

“Come on, I need a few hours of sleep and you can stay in my room on the extra bed. I’m sure you need some sleep as well.”

He jumped down onto the bed of the truck helping her down as well. He jumped down from the truck holding out his arms for her. His hand gripped her hips and he lifted her from the tailgate setting her on the ground. Her body slid down his and once again her body flooded with heat.

“You know I could sleep in my car or get my own room.” She said softly, looking up at him.

“Scared something might happen?” He smirked, making her roll her eyes.

Pushing him gently, “Nope. I gave up chasing cowboys a long time ago.”

“Really? Yet, you drove nearly eight hours to talk with me. Sounds to me like you might still be chasing cowboys.” He leaned down, “Or am I wrong?”

His soft lips were close to hers and his woodsy cologne filled her senses. Her knees were going to buckle if she didn’t step away from her and she would fall right back into oblivion with him.

“We can’t.” She whispered, “I can’t stand back and watch you drive into tornados not knowing if you’ll come back to me.”

His eyes softened as he backed away from her, “I understand. You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep in my truck.”

“Tyler, there’s two beds. We can share the room.” She caught his arm and felt him flinch.

He never turned to look at her, “You were always the strong one. I know I won’t be able to keep myself in control. Goodnight (Y/N).”

He walked to the driver’s side, getting in his truck. (Y/N) stood there for a moment before retreating into his room. She sat on the bed thinking about everything they had said and everything that was left unsaid between them. She loved him. She had been in love with him for nearly a decade and still was. She wanted to be by his side, but that fear of not knowing if he would come back to her kept her from doing what she wanted. The sun was peeking over the horizon when she heard the door open to the motel room.

She turned around to see Tyler staring down at her. Since she hadn’t grabbed her bag, she had opted to wear one of his white t-shirts for a night shirt. (Y/N) stood up grabbing her clothes that were on the small table.

“Sorry, I will get dressed and let you get ready.” She mumbled.

His hand grabbed her elbow, spinning her towards him, “Fuck it.”

His lips crashed to hers. Immediately, the stress and tension in her body melted as he wrapped her legs around his waist. Her back hit the mattress as Tyler began a hot trail of kisses down her neck.

“Ty-Tyler…” She moaned.

He lifted himself up, “I know, I know. We shouldn’t do this, but there is nothing in the world that I need more than you. Not storm chasing or anything. All I want is you and if this is the last time I get to be with you then so be it.”

Her heart was thumping rapidly against her chest, “You still love me?”

“Seriously?” He scoffed, “You think one little fight was going to erase you from my heart? Sweetheart, there is only one other woman I spend my time chasing other than you and that’s mother nature. There’s no one else in the world worth chasing other than you.”

She couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face, “For the record, I love you too.”

His breathtaking smile appeared and (Y/N) knew she was right where she needed to be. Tyler leaned down kissing her slowly, passionately. She was pulling his shirt off when there was a knock on his door.

“Go away!” He yelled, kissing her inner thigh.

“Tyler, we got a storm brewing just outside Bartlesville. If we hit the road now then we can beat Storm Par.” Boone’s voice was barely audible as Tyler groaned.

“Alright, we’re leaving in fifteen.” He rested his cheek against her thigh, “You think we could finish in fifteen minutes?”

She giggled, “It has been a while for both of us, but no I don’t. However, after chasing this storm we could pick up where we left off at another motel. Like the good ole days.”

“You’re staying?” he asked, helping her up and sitting her on his lap.

She nodded, “Cowboy, there’s nowhere else I would rather be than by your side.”

He kissed her again, gripping her hips tight. She moaned against his lips as she rolled her hips against him.

Tyler growled when Boone banged on his door again, “Be out in five!”

“Come on cowboy,” She kissed him, “I’m feeling it, so let's go chase it.”

“Yes ma’am.” He smacked her behind before they both got up gathering their stuff and heading out to the truck.

-----

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