#storm spotter

[delulu-for-kylo]

I got my advanced storm spotter certification a few weeks ago, yaaayyyy!! ⛈️ 🌪

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

LOCATION CHANGE --- Date/time still the same for @NWSMorristown's new #Skywarn #stormspotter training class. Was the American Red Cross, now Old Harrison ES. Class size limited to 100.

Register now at: https://www.weather.gov/mrx/skywarn_classes

[st-peculiar]

Sometimes you gotta impulsively start researching literally anything for your health

[sunrayretriever]

[nashvillehotchicken]

good god it looks like a fucking rave outside

[psychoticwillgraham]

also I love that the local news stays on until all tornado warnings are over even tho other locals bitch and moan about it bc they’re ‘missing their shows :( and the show is like Chicago fire. sorry but ppl’s lives are possibly on the line and I’d rather them be tracking it live on air and if it means that ppl can be saved

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Photos from Facebook from a guy who teaches a storm class here in Oklahoma.

Wrapping up Twisters opening weekend with one more behind the scenes memory.

In April, 2023, we were approached by the Twisters production office about doing a storm spotter class for the cast and crew. As we talked about the class, I asked them if they wanted 1) a storm spotter class; 2) a weather class with info to help actors with their roles in the movie; or 3) a tornado safety class to help everyone new to Oklahoma in springtime. The answer was yes - we want all three.

On May 3rd, 2023, we hosted nine of the cast and nine crew members for the training. It didn't really have a name, but I've heard someone refer to it as Tornado Bootcamp or Tornadoes 101. We started around 8am and it lasted two hours.

I covered Oklahoma tornado culture to illustrate how big of a deal tornadoes are to the people who live here, covering everything from Saturday siren tests to IPAs named after weather terms to TV meteorologist drinking games and bingo cards to storm anxiety and PTSD. I talked about the Twister effect, which saw meteorology school enrollments double or triple in some cases after Twister came out. I did some basic storm spotter training and a little severe weather meteorology, and wrapped up with tornado safety (including a slide illustrating how it was not safe to shelter under a wooden bridge or by strapping yourself to a pipe using screen grabs from Twister.)

The class was very interactive. Daisy Edgar Jones and Glen Powell sat front row center and Daisy had her notebook and took notes the entire time. I got really good questions from the class and I could tell they were genuinely interested.

We followed up the class with an extended tour/visit to SPC and the WFO, with a lot more great questions and discussion. We ended the visit talking vehicles and technology with Sean Waugh. I think some of them would have stayed all day if they had been able to.

[pietropatrol]

The Love You Want (Part 1/2)

A/N: Long time no see.

Pietro Maximoff was a great teammate and a great "friends with benefits." That was, until you fell for him but he started to push you away. Now he was just a teammate with benefits. A charity gala put on by Tony causes tension between you and the speedster. Why is he so upset anyway?

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warnings: Smut right out of the gate, sexual content, pining idiots, idiots who won’t communicate their feelings, language, angst, past trauma, jealousy

Words: 5,582

It was hard to not be bewitched by him. His half-lidded were partially obscured by a mess white-blonde hair, and his lips parted as he panted and tried not to fall apart below you.

But maybe it wasn't exactly him? Maybe the power you had to do this to him was bewitching? It was a slightly comforting thought. It put you in control. 

You pushed his hair back, lacing your fingers through and pulling.

Pietro moaned and tightened his grip on your hips making you hum in appreciation. You tugged his head to the side to expose the underside of his sharp jawline.

Your lips latched to the sensitive dip just below his ear and jaw.

A string of curses in his native tongue vibrated in his throat. Something about you and the devil. Your Sokovian was still pretty basic.

Your hips collided at a more frantic pace and you unrelentingly nipped and sucked as you gave a rough tug of his hair for good measure.

 "Fuck." English this time. “Fuck!

His hips stuttered and slowed. You continued to roll your hips, repaying the favor of him teasing out your own orgasm just moments earlier. You relished the way his thumps swirled lazily on your hip bones as he caught his breath.

Against your better judgment, you curled into him, chests rising and falling rapidly into one another.

"We have a brief in an hour." Pietro burst the bubble. He was already detangling himself from you, leaving apprehension in his wake as you kept yourself from locking your limbs around him.

"Yeah, I should probably go Shower." You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and looked down to your knees. It was getting harder to ignore the storm of emotion swirling in your chest.

Post-sex tended to end this way now.  You need to nuzzle into Pietro afterwards was near desperate.

But he didn't like that. It was clingy. At least for your casual arrangement. Friends with benefits. Snuggling beyond the haze of orgasms was over the friend line. This was just a convenience.

Neither of you had to go out and find a stranger when the urges hit. There was no need for the small talk and making sure the one-night stand wasn't a psycho.

Pietro was here and you were just down the hall. You trusted one another and knew each other’s likes and dislikes. And importantly, unbelievably sexually compatible.

…Aside from your need to be held afterwards.

In a quick breeze, your clothes landed in a pile next to you. Pietro had already retreated into the bathroom by the time you looked up.

Getting dressed was you second least favorite part. Half of your hookups occurred post training or missions. Your clothes were either still damp with sweat or dirty, and sometimes both.

With running Shoes in hand, you padded barefoot down the hall to your own suite. But not without escaping the judging eyes of Wanda. She leaned against her doorframe, as if expecting you to walk by.

"A little extra training, Y/N?" Wanda prodded.

Heat rushed to your face. "Just some extra weight training." 

"We were supposed to get showered and get lunch before the brief." Wanda narrowed her eyes at you. "Of which neither you and my brother did.”

“Really needed, uh, a spotter. We lost track of time. But we still had enough time for both."

Wanda rolled her eyes and retreated into her and Vis' room, not wanting to get into an endless argument about Pietro and you again. The last time you had, Wanda ignored you for two weeks. 

****

In the end, you did not have time for both a shower and eating lunch. You had wasted too much time overthinking and compartmentalizing in the shower.

With your hair still sopping wet and wearing a pair of mismatching socks, you raced to the conference room. 

All eyes went to you. Apparently, you were the last to show and the most unkempt.

"I feel asleep," you said dumbly.

“In the shower?" Tony quirked an eyebrow. 

“So, what if I did?" you snapped, surprising yourself and the team. At least three set of eyebrows had crept into hairlines. "Sorry, just tired is all.”

You avoided Pietro's gaze. It was searing into your chest. You rushed to your seat next to Nat. 

"Are you going to be okay for tonight?" Steve asked, concern creeping into his voice. 

"Tonight?" you echoed, looking to Nat, hoping for some clarity. The look you she gave you was not at all helpful. Her eyes loudly asked why the hell you didn't know.

"The Stark Industry sponsored charity gala with the highlight of all the Avengers showing up. The gala you promised me you'd make it to three months ago." Tony turned to inspect you. 

"I did?" You didn't recall even talking to Tony about it.

Pietro covering a laugh with a cough broke your internal scramble. "Sorry, has to clear my throat.”

 Your phone buzzed and you looked down to see a text from the culprit himself.

PIETRO:  🤖✊✊✊🚪😜😻😜🐈🥵🤫🥵🫢😫🫨

That made sense, it you vaguely remember with that play by play. Tony had come to talk to you about something when Pietro was short circuiting your mental state.

You had been trying to sound normal as Tony spoke with you through the door. But Pietro was unrelenting with his head burrowed between your legs. It was truly a miracle you could even get a coherent word out.

Your memory was rendered useless as you were on the edge of an Earth-shaking climax. Pietro had to throw his hand over your mouth to muffle your cry.

"I did!” You confirmed with a confidence you did not feel. "Sorry, I have a hard time with my memory."

This earned an eye roll from Wanda. To be fair to yourself, your short-term memory was a bit fuzzy. Some things were worse off after your fall from the helicarrier in DC in 2014. Namely memory, at least not strong memories, and anxiety. 

“What are we raising money for again?" Nat interrupted the uncomfortable silence that had crept in when everyone knew enough as to why you memory was not that great. 

"Local shelters,” Tony shrugged. "Pepper would be able to put together a more thorough list if you want?"

"And you want us to what exactly?” Steve said, “Since we are the highlight?"

"Schmooze your ass off. You should be good at that, it's your origin story." Tony grinned. 

Steve shook his head. "It's at least for a good cause." 

"When you say we, does that include Parker? "Bucky asked. 

"My dutiful intern Peter Parker, who is not a part of the Avengers, and a very normal college kid. No." Tony played clueless.

" And spiderman?" Bucky added for clarification.

"Out trapezing his neighborhood, looking to stop crime. I don't know what Spiderman has to do with any of us. Sure, he'll help out occasionally, but he's his own separate entity."

"An ally," you mused.

Tony clapped. " Yes, thank you. Ally. Our ally Spiderman will not be in attendance tonight. But my intern Peter Parker and his friends who have no association with said Spiderman will be.” 

****

"I can't believe you forgot". Nat rummaged through her closet, trying to find something that would fit you.

"I forget a lot of things these days,” you responded, distracted as you sat on her bed thumbing through a magazine.

"How is that, by the way? You've failed to bring up that it was still a big issue." Nat narrowed her eyes at a cream-colored gown then shook her head. The gown landed on top of a growing mound of rejected dresses.

"How come Clint isn't subjected to this?" You whined, stopping on an absurd article.

"You changed the subject. And Clint has a family and life outside of our shenanigans."

You chewed the inside of your cheek as your eyes involuntarily stung.

"Shit." Nat groaned. "Y/N. I'm so sorry.” 

"No, it's fine, really." You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to shake away the encapsulating grief. "It's been a decade, and you and Clint are my family. And you should be the last person to feel sorry for me." You focused back on the page. Nat had gone through 100 times the hell you had.

Sure, you had lost everything but your own life, barely, that day. But you and your parents had assumed the risk working for S.H.I.E.L.D..

They could have retired early and been professors in their studies. You could have lived nearby working as a nurse at the hospital. Not quiet, but not deadly. Most importantly, they would still be alive. 

"They would be happy you survived and your ability—” Nat’s eyes caught on a shimmery, deep ocean blue, silk number and she grinned. "Perfect."

You hardly looked but agreed. Your eyes returned to being unfocused on the article.

"Y/N, what is so interesting?" Nat look over your shoulder. "Thirteen delightfully devious ways to blow his mind! Pique your interest there?” Nat smirked. The gown now hung from the full-length mirror in the corner of her room. 

"Yeah right," you snorted. It was both a defense and a disguise. "Just keeping up with my peers.”

"I'm pretty sure your peers are not writing these articles. I cannot see anyone nearly in their 30s recommending to glue rhinestones around their pubic hair."

"Fair." You chucked the magazine and sized up the dress. "You know when I signed up to join the Avengers, I didn't see anything about being paraded around for money."

"You didn't sign shit. So now we're at the will and mercy of Stark because he funds our lifestyles. It can be fun. Though, I guess you don't have a date if you didn't know." 

"Why would I need a date? As far as I'm concerned, I'm working." Your brows furrowed as you looked to Nat who was watching you closely.

"To help with conversation.”

"Do you have a date?”

‘No, of course not. Bucky and I are teaming up though. Which I realize may be a mistake now that I remember he is terrible at small talk,” Nat groaned. 

You laughed at this. “So why don’t I go with one of the team?” A small voice inside whispered Pietro’s name. 

"Thor is off planet."

"Lucky bastard."

"Bruce is tasked with trying to secure some data from a bioengineer."

"I can help Br—” 

"No. I don't want you anywhere near Bruce for this. This bioengineer may have ties with Hydra—” 

"Steve's gotta be available?” You quickly put the conversation back on the safer side.

"Steve is hitting up the major politicians and defense contractors with Sam. They are great for their PR. This would make you more visible if you joined." 

You tensed. "That leaves Pietro and Peter. Platonically and professionally, of course.” 

"Parker is not teaming up with any of us. You heard Stark, Parker’s just his intern. We don't want him associated closely to the Avengers,” she reminded you. "Besides, he'll have his girlfriend and friend with him. It'd be weird for you to hang out with college kids you supposedly barely know.” 

“So, Pietro can be my date then.” You tried your best not to sound too pleased. 

"I think he's taking that woman that writes the articles about him in that gossip magazine."

It was a bucket of ice water over your head. "That bitch?! The one who wrote that article about me being the most boring and clumsy Avenger featuring a picture of me spilling ice coffee on myself after a super sweaty, hot yoga class!?” 

"Woah! It was just one article, right?" Nat shook her head, taken aback by your outburst.

"Oh no, far more unflattering pictures and articles. Somehow, it's only me getting the negative press. Why the fuck would he bring her? When he knows—” you cut yourself off to take a calming breath. "It'll be fine. But I swear to god, if a picture of me stuffing my mouth full of shrimp cocktails is featured next week, I will kill him."

"Relax, I don't think they could even get an unflattering photo of you in this if they tried." Nat held out the dress, grinning.

****

Nat may have been right. If Steve did a double take, in a very well-mannered, gentleman way, this dress was something. 

The silk accentuated your shape and, in a daring first time move, you ignored the discomfort at having your scars exposed. The dress was backless with silk pooling in a “U” just above your ass. The cut outs at the curves of your hips trailed to just tastefully under your breasts. The slit up one leg reached your upper thigh. A small section of burns was visible if you settled your leg just right. 

The large mass of your puckered skin did not see the light of day outside the tower. They were obvious and hard to ignore. The events leading up to the fall, and the fall itself, had imprinted on you in far too many ways.

"You look beautiful," Steve offered.

"Thank you." You graciously accepted for once in your life.

"Handsome as always boys." You included Bucky and Sam in this. Bucky you'd never seen out of sweats and black jeans for years. Him in a suit was quite jarring, in a good way of course.

"This does not look productive,” Tony teased, walking into the group with Pepper and Morgan. “These people aren't going to schmooze themselves."

"If I hear the word Schmooze one more time,” you murmured to Nat.

A low chuckle sounded behind you, and you turned to see the eerily groomed speedster in a tailored suit. The sight made you freeze and thankfully he was as dumbstruck by you. All the heat rose to your cheeks.

"Where's your date?" Pietro cocked his head, biting back a sly grin.

"You're an asshole for many reasons. This being one of them. You very well know—” You hissed, but caught sight of Sierra Lineheart, the damn gossip reporter, heading Pietro's way with two drinks in hand. 

This was your queue to bolt in the opposite direction. If she couldn't see you, she couldn't report on you.

****

You were relieved to catch sight of 3 familiar college students standing next to a server with a tray of bruschetta. MJ was the first to notice your presence. 

"Oh, hey Y/N. Long time no see."

"Hey, how's college?" You snagged a piece from the tray, wolfing it down in a single bite. God you were hungry. Why were you so hungry? Oh, right, you had let a stupidly sexy man distract you this morning.  

This was all Pietro’s fault, he had made you miss lunch and he had basically made you blindsided by this event so you had no time to eat. 

If Sierra Lineheart weren’t here, you would probably go to each tray and scarf down a few servings. So, your hunger was even more Pietro’s fault. 

"College, you know how it is." Ned shrugged. You actually didn't, but nonetheless. You snuck another piece of bruschetta from the tray. 

"Everything good?" Peter looked around suspiciously.

"Why wouldn’t it be?" You breathed, smoothing your free hand down the front of your dress.

"You seem very jumpy. Are you okay?"

"Do I? Yeah? Crowds. People. You know? Ahh! I, uh, need some fresh air." Your hands flailed as you talked, sending some of the tomatoes tumbling off the crostini. Peter snatched it out of your hand before it could do any damage. "Thanks. See you later."

You made a beeline for the balcony. It was thankfully empty as you gasped for air. Why were you upset suddenly? What was there to be emotional about?

You turned to go back inside but saw Sierra on Pietro's arm, a dazzling smile set naturally on her face as Pietro chatted energetically with the couple in front of them.

His gaze moved over to your direction, sending you diving behind a large potted plant.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out and footsteps headed your direction. “Did I just see you tactical roll into a shrub?” 

You thanked the heavens that it was Bucky. He was the least likely person to mention it to anyone else. 

“No,” you groaned from your hiding spot.

“You're avoiding somebody." It wasn't a question. It didn't have to be when you were crouched behind a shrub. 

"Yes," you sighed.

Bucky extended his hand out to you. "You shouldn't hide. Especially in that dress.” 

If it wasn’t Bucky, you'd think it was flirting. He was just a straightforward guy, and you knew him well enough to call him a friend. 

"You're avoiding too." you argued but took his hand. He gently pulled you to your feet and out from behind the shrub.

“Yes, but it's everybody. Not a someone. I’m pretty sure our reasons are quite different." Bucky peered behind you through the glass doors. “Who could be sending our brave YIN into this state?"

"Brave?" you snorted. "Not brave."

Bucky frowned. "I've seen you throw yourself into an active combat zone without a thought, to heal one of us on many occasions.”

"It isn't brave when I know that I'll come out alive 99 percent of the time." 

“It still hurts you and it still leaves scars." Bucky nodded to the small bullet wound just under your left clavicle…one of your many. "And I remember… that day… in DC."

You flinched and wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I saw you try to save your parents from him. I heard him offer to spare you and bring him with you if you let him do his mission. I heard that you loved him, but you still fought him. You took the serum and threw yourself—” 

"Stop! In the end it didn't matter!” The tears were threatening to spill over. “It didn't save them."

"I'm sorry I didn't do anything to help." Bucky’s eyes were soft and full of regret when they shouldn’t have been. 

This caused a hysterical giggle to escape you. "Bucky, that wasn't you. You didn't even remember Steve and he's your best friend. I was a stranger who wasn't on the right side of the mission and actively trying to thwart Hydra. I'm lucky you didn't step in a try to help kill me. I don't accept your apology because you don't owe me one."

"Fair, and I have to accept that," Bucky mused.

"Therapy?"

"My own personal list." He smiled wryly. 

"Well thanks for thinking of me though. If you were you, you would have helped, and that's what matters." 

"So let me help you now.” Bucky nudged you with his shoulder. “What can I do to make you not hide in a corner, and try and enjoy the night?" 

You looked back into the ballroom. You easily caught the bright white hair in crowd. Pietro was looking bored into the distance as his date talked to some benefactor. "I don't know, just keep me—”

Sierra reached over to sensual run her hand up his bicep and he tensed, his face twisting in a brief sneer of disgust. You paused as the gears started to turn in your brain. Pietro recovered and forced on the fakest smile you had ever seen him give.

"That mother fucker!" You threw your hands in the air. "Oh my god, he's an idiot!"

"I'm sorry, who?" 

"Pietro. He brought that gossip column woman as his date. He's trying to make me jealous." 

"Jealous?" Bucky looked back and forth to the speedster and you, piecing it together. "Are you dating?” 

"Exclusively casual,” you seethed, "for a while. But right now, it appears he’s messing that up by thinking it'd be a good idea to make me jealous. Especially with her. Wanting me to believe he would choose her over me?" 

"That is stupid and highly childish,” Bucky observed.

You scoffed in agreement. 

"Want to return the favor?" He tilted his head in Pietro's direction.

"How so?"

Bucky gave you a mischievous grin. 

 "A taste of his own medicine."

****

Bucky guided you to the bar, his hand resting on the small of your bare back. Your path happened to be directly in front of Pietro.

It was innocent to Pietro's sight at first. He immediately fixed his gaze on you when you'd come back in. He was drinking you in, while attempting to put in more of an effort not to not look annoyed by his date. 

But then Pietro’s eyes noticed Bucky's hand placement and your proximity, and his lips twisted into a sneer. You gave a relaxed smile and leaned into Bucky's touch. 

"This may be too easy. He's ridiculously possessive,” you murmured. 

"And you’re only being casual, why?"

"It was hard for me to trust men in that sense. Pietro was my friend. I trusted him enough. But not enough to consider a relationship. Pietro also has trust issues. It was a mutual attraction and it just made sense.”

"And now? What's changed?" Bucky helped you into the bar stool, quietly ordering two Manhattans.

"We’ve been in this, whatever this is, for almost two years. One day he just started being distant.  Like I was just a one night stand each time. I don't think I can call us friends anymore. Our interactions are limited to work, antagonizing each other, and sex with no intimacy. I don't even know if there is a point anymore—” You took a deep breath and caught Bucky's frown. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I just vomited all that information on you. I should keep that to my therapist or finally get the courage to talk to Nat about it. You don't want to hear my ridic—” 

"Y/N, " Bucky interrupted, placing your drink in your hand and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He had to pointedly ignore the glare starting to burn holes in his skull. "It is okay. It's definitely my 100-year-old man energy that makes you open up. And I'd like to think we're friends." 

"I think we are."

"So, let me just put something out there, if you'll let me?” Bucky said softly. 

“I'll allow it."

"You love Pietro."

You nearly choked on your drink. "What?" 

"You've been exclusive for so long and even though he's been emotionally distant, you still stayed. If you didn't love him, you'd stop the arrangement because you're fed up."

"I-I, no, I don't think, I'm able to—" you scrambled to try and dissuade him from making any sense of your inner turmoil.

"You're scared, but not for the reasons you think. For once it's not because of your past. It's just normal. You're scared he may not feel the same, and that's okay. But maybe it's time you tell him?” 

You rose an eyebrow at him, preparing to deflect. "You sound like a therapist.”

"You'd rather just his game than? Play jealously chicken until you obliterate your arrangement?" Bucky's tone was a warning.

"Yes,” you sniffed, feigning indifference. 

"Okay." He watched you for a moment before giving you a warm smile. "As long as that's what you want. I won't mind pissing off Speedy."

You turned your body towards him, letting your thigh touch the inside of his. 

"He started it," you breezed. "And with the worst person."

"Just remember that he is also going to be angry with you once this is all over,” Bucky grabbed your hand a placed a kiss on your palm.

"I'm already angry. So good. At least you're in on this. She thinks Pietro likes her. And I'm going to be the victim of the wrath if she finds out he used her for me."

You twirled Bucky's hand in your own, lacing your fingers together on top of the bar.

"He is ready to murder me," Bucky whispered in your ear. It looked pretty damning to anyone watching.

His hand trailed to touch the brush your hair from the back of your neck. One would think it would cause a rush of excitement being touched this way by Bucky. But it was not at all what you wanted. You would have been a puddle if it were Pietro. You leaned into Bucky’s touch to put on a show and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Not surprised, he does not like to share,” you smirked. 

"You're good. But what are the odds he takes a swing at me?" Bucky’s thumb brushed your jawline. 

"If you keep this up, highly likely. Though he has no right. He's made it abundantly clear tonight that it is nothing more than casual."

"What is going on here?" Nat saddled up the pair of you, looking back and forth.

"Act supportive," you said through a smile, placing a hand on Bucky's chest. "I'll explain later."

Shit, Nat was going to be pissed when she knew. But only because you kept it from her for a whole two years. Nat mimicked your bright smile and embraced the pair of you. "Why do I have a feeling I am going to want to kick your ass, Y/N?" she hissed.

"It'll be a funny story, so long as nobody else gets their asses kicked tonight."

"I make no promises. If he swings, I am going to swing back. I'm not going to let him get a hit in. He’ll become even more cocky,” Bucky said into your hair.

"I know, I wouldn't expect anything else of you Bucky. It'll be his fault. He brought her.”

Nat leaned casually against the bar, trying to glean something to clue her in to the conversation. She clocked the glare of a speedster with the conniving, piss poor example of a journalist in his company. Sierra was currently oblivious to Pietro's fixation.

"Y/N," Nat said through gritted teeth, "please, for the love of god, do not tell me you trying to make Pietro Maximoff jealous. Of all the people."

"I don't have to tell you. You just said it,” you mumbled into your drink. 

"It's definitely working, he is eyeing me up." Bucky's hand went down to rest on your bare skin above your hip. 

"He’s probably trying to remember which of your arms detaches.”

Bucky put on a good show of a real laugh, but it cut off abruptly. "If he tries that, Y/N, I will beat the shit out of him.” 

You grimaced, maybe employing Bucky as your fake date was not a great idea. Pietro while improving, was still impulsive. 

And he had been adamant that he didn't share…

Inserting Bucky may have been an explosive detonating in your face.

"Why would he even be jealous? It's not like you two—wait, are you two dating?" Nat glared at you.

"No." 

"Exclusively casual is how she explained to me,” Bucky offered.

"That's honestly worse. You're fuck buddies? Since when?"

You tensed under your friend’s judgment.  “Awhile."

"Y/N!”

"2 years,” Bucky added.

"I told you that in confidence!" You gaped at him.

"2 years?" Nat's voice rose. "All this time I've been trying to get you to hook up with anyone. But you've been with him, without any of us knowing?"

"Wanda does,” you grumbled.

"So, she's so cold with you because of this? You used to be friends, then you weren't?"

“She hasn't been too keen on the arrangement, no. Not sure—”

"Speedy is on the move," Bucky warned.

Pietro was nearly vibrating with rage as he approached. Sierra had to power walk to keep up with him. His eyes slid over Nat, to Bucky, and landed on you. His jaw clenched when he noted Bucky's hand still on your bare skin.

"Y/N, I'm sure you remember Sierra Lineheart. She does the Avengers articles. Sierra you know the team." Pietro never took his eyes off you.

"I'm very familiar. Good to see you all. Don’t worry, everything is off the record I am not here as press today." Sierra gave a giggle, leaning heavily into Pietro's side. He tensed and a wave of satisfaction crashed through you. That idiot. 

He really was trying to make you jealous. But he was not comfortable with her. She wasn't a good option because she wasn't in on it. And he didn't trust her. He'd made the wrong move.

"You two look like absolute lovebirds. A romance in the team?" Sierra was far too jovial. 

"How did this happen?" Pietro turned his icy glare on Bucky who gave a lazy smile in return.

"Yeah, you and Y/N? How could that happen?” It should have been an innocent question, but it felt like there was malicious intent behind it. Sierra had it out for you for one reason or another. 

"Y/N is beautiful, smart, and she really cares about people. What is there to happen?" Bucky twirled a lock of your hair absentmindedly and gave a pointed look at Pietro. "Remember that time she healed you in the—” 

Pietro paled a little as you felt the air rush out of your lungs at the mention of Pietro’s brush with death. Nat gripped your elbow, steadying the sway of your body. Bucky noticed and adjusted his hand further down your hip, squeezing to hold you in place.

A low growl rumbled in Pietro's chest; his trauma momentarily forgotten. That was his spot. 

Had he not just been holding you there 8 hours ago? He would bet a month’s salary that small bruises had started to form. You loved that.

“So, Y/N, what battle are those scars from? From what I 've heard, you're more of a medic. Like the team nurse?" Sierra nodded to the prominent scarring just above Bucky's grip.

Pietro whipped his head to Sierra, incredulous.

"What? She put them on display. She wants people to ask." Sierra rolled her eyes. 

Your jaw clicked. “Care to—” 

“Yeah, we're going to go.” Bucky tried to steer you away from Pietro and Sierra, but Pietro‘s hand was around your wrist in a blink. Bucky was now two feet back from you.

"Can I speak to you?" Pietro growled and cast a glance at Nat and Bucky standing offensively. "Privately.” 

You pulled your hand from his grasp and looked over his shoulder. Bucky made a hand gesture you interpreted as "go." 

"Sure,” you acquiesced, letting Pietro lead the way.

His private place was an empty coat check. A sign on the counter stated they would be back in ten minutes. Pietro closed the shutters and whirled on you.

"What was that?" His nostrils flared. "You can't seriously be here with Bucky?"

"And why not? He's a perfectly respectable man," you defended your fake relationship. You weren't going to be the first to fess up.

"He's old enough to be your great-grandpa!"

You rose an eyebrow. “On paper? Sure. Physically? No. Is that your only concern? If so—” You made to move for the door.

Pietro appeared in front of you, pinning you to door. 

You sighed and let your head fall back against the door. "I'm tired, Pietro. I'm tired of feeling like I’m just a warm body for you. I can't even call you a friend with benefits because we haven't been friends for a year."

Pietro looked at you sharply and opened his mouth to protest.

"When was the last we hung out outside of work or sex?” you interrupted. His answer was silence. “The day after you—” your voice got stuck in your throat. You cleared it and started over. 

“The day after you almost died and I saved you, we were so close. Then the following morning—” An exasperated laugh came out of you as you shook your head. “it—it was like I was nothing to you. Like I was a stranger after a one-night stand."

The tears began to prick the corner of your eyes. "And then you kept pushing me away. Then you’d pull me right back to get off. Then poof, get out. I'm an idiot for letting you. But I was fucking desperate for any piece of you, so I always did. And every time I convinced myself that you won’t just toss me aside like the last time."

The tears were spilling over now. "Then you brought HER here! When you very well know she has some weird vendetta against me." 

Pietro’s eyes were wide, but he still did not speak. 

"Why?" You croaked. "Isn't what you're doing already enough? What do you think you have to do to me?" You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I told you I loved you that night. Which is a bit unfair because I said it while you were sleeping. But I said it out loud. Which was a big step for me.” 

“Draga,” his said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t—” 

The door to the coat room shoved open behind you and Nat’s head peaked in. 

“Y/N? Tony’s looking for you. Something about some fancy doctor’s needing to be schmoozed with your medical knowledge.”

“Great.” You looked up at the ceiling, willing the waterworks to stop. “Thanks Nat.” You quickly made your escape. The room had started to feel like it was closing in around you. 

“Y/N,” Pietro whispered. “I—” 

“Don’t worry about it, Pietro. I understand okay. Best we just stop, right?”

You let go and walked away to do some goddamn schmoozing. 

[day-night-darlix]

respect your local storm chasers

Storm chasers are some of the most metal people out there.

A lot of them are certified in first aid and first response.

Last night Reed Timmer, extreme chaser and PHD of meteorology, stopped his chase to personally drive two people from rolling fork to a hospital 45 minutes away. And then drove back to help search and recovery.

A lot of chasers last night stopped in the towns directly hit and were there with first responders performing first aid and rescues on people.

Many of them saw death last night. Most chasers do this unpaid or at their own expense. As a hobby.

Please keep an eye out for news updates, and remember that storm chasers may seem like idiots or adrenaline junkies to you, but they largely end up being on the ground before 911 even gets dispatch sent out.

[the-eeveekins]

Suletta is an Amazing Pilot

I still see this idea floating around that Suletta is NOT a good pilot. That this is even a somewhat accepted opinion is WILD to me, because the show makes it clear she is a fantastic pilot. I shouldn't even have to write this article, because one can simply see it by watching the series with their eyes open. To claim Suletta is not a good pilot is to jump through way more mental gymnastics to make that claim than to simply accept what G-Witch is literally showing you.

1) Cradle Planet

At age 6, Suletta has already been training to fly mobile suits. By age 11, she's the best pilot on Mercury. Eri states that Suletta handles her beam sabers with surgical precision and calmly pilots her mobile suit through dangerous terrain that would terrify any normal person. Prospera raised Suletta with the purpose of her piloting the Aerial in mind. She raised her to be the best.

2) Episode 3

So, I'll give reigning Holder Guel the benefit of the doubt and say he only lost the first duel because he dicked around and then got caught with his pants completely down. Surely he'll do better in round 2. Except, even though Guel knows what's coming AND he's in a better suit, Suletta would have ended this duel in about 20 seconds were it not for the Darilbalde's AI saving Guel from a head shot. That this 2nd duel lasts as long as it does is only due to Vim's interference, and even with that Guel couldn't win. Suletta doesn't even use the Gundbits for the final strike of the match, the decisive blow she scored against Guel was all her own piloting.

3) Episode 4

This is the episode most people continue to cite as evidence that Suletta is a bad pilot. But the facts are clear: Suletta was doing just fine in that test and would have passed with flying colors of not for bullies blinding her mobile suit. At that point she was piloting an unfamiliar MS, not allowed to use backup cameras, and needing to navigate using only someone else's word. Anyone would struggle. Imagine trying to drive a car through an obstacle course at full speed while blind with only an outside spotter. And that completely ignores that she was having an emotional breakdown the entire time because she was being bullied. And even then, with each successive attempt, she was improving! Would a "better" pilot have adjusted faster? Sure, maybe, but this wasn't the heat of battle; this was a high school test, and Suletta is using an unfamiliar machine. And Suletta's emotional state was compromised, leading to her struggles. Because that was what this scene was about: Suletta's emotional state, not her piloting skills.

4) Episode 6

Suletta holds up incredibly well considering she's using a cobbled-together-in-a-week thruster pack and still at a heavy disadvantage against the Pharact. Not to mention this time her pilot also has a Gundam with the benefit of the Gund Format. And while Eri's data storm resonance may have opened up the final blow for her, it was Suletta’s piloting that pushed Elan to go to Permet Score 4 despite his advantage. And even at Score 4, Suletta was pushing Elan into a corner.

5) Episode 9

This pretty much speaks for itself. Suletta holds off multiple mobile suits at once, eventually finding herself alone against 6 of the best pilots at Asticassia and none of them can take her down. She survives even through her self doubt, even through the GUND format being disabled and having to pilot normally. And then she activates Score 6 and it's all Suletta. Suletta was the one completely outmaneuvering the entire Grassley team, piloting the Aerial AND manually controlling the Gundbits the entire time. While also processing all the information the Gundbits were feeding her about the battlefield. Suletta survived that 1v6 and may have even won it if she was forced to. We'll never know because ultimately Shaddiq fell into Miorine's trap.

6) Episode 12

Gundam vs Two Gundams! Suletta has a new ride and it's arguably the strongest MS in Ad Stella. Still the best mobile suit means little without a good pilot. And Suletta takes on two Gundam pilots actively trying to kill her. Two Gundam pilots that just wiped the floor with Plant Quetta's professional security forces and also have the Gund Format. And yet Suletta fights them both off.

7) Episode 13

Okay, this isn't really fair. Suletta and the Rebuild are far and away superior to anything the lesser Benerit companies can throw at them. But it's still impressive she went through a gauntlet of what presumably the best of the rest could throw at her w/o breaking a sweat.

8) Episode 14

Sophie is ultimately killed by the Gund Format before there could be a conclusive resolution to their fight, but again, Suletta did not struggle against a trained child soldier using a Gundam trying to kill her.

9) Episode 17

Suletta does not lose this duel unless Miorine and Ericht betray her. In fact, it's not even a contest if Guel doesn't use the Darilbalde's AI. He even admits he's not a match for her without it. And to top it all off, the Aerial starts this duel still damaged from it’s battle against Sophie. Guel has some success this duel, and thanks to the AI piloting is able to put Suletta on the defensive, but despite having multiple shots at taking her antenna, he still couldn't close the deal, and once Suletta got serious, it was over. It took one of the best pilots in Asticassia piloting a top of the line new model MS using a top of the line learning and piloting AI just to get a solid shot at defeating Suletta 1-on-1 and he still couldn't beat her.

10) Episode 18

A short scene of Suletta easily passing one of her Demi Trainer tests. All while she's suffering from severe depression due to the divorce.

Calibarn

Her piloting the Calibarn as a whole is a testament to Suletta’s superb piloting skills. Suletta takes on Quiet Zero and Aerial all by herself, and she comes out of the battle with only some superficial damage. Before this battle, Ericht took on an entire SAL fleet of professional soldiers and was wiping the floor with them using her Gundnodes, before even engaging the override. The story establishes that Ericht + Quiet Zero > A fleet of trained soldiers. And Suletta takes her on all by herself and comes out on top. You can't even use the excuse that she benefited from an advantage with the Gund format and piloting a Gundam because so is Eri. And Ericht is perfectly synchronized with the data storm.

And yes, they weren't trying to kill each other, but that is actually more difficult in the heat of battle. In fact, you can see Suletta making the fight more difficult for herself by punching and kicking away the Aerial’s Gundbits instead of simply destroying them because she doesn't want to kill the coven. It's a testament to Suletta incredible skills that she's able to dodge all the incoming fire without accidentally dodging into it, all while dueling her sister without killing her.

And of course, she's doing this all while the Calibarn is trying to kill her. Even with her permet resistance, she is still under constant strain while piloting the Calibarn, you can hear it in her voice the entire time.

The only other argument I see made against Suletta’s skill as a pilot that isn't a double standard rooted in sexism is that the Gund Format elevates her from a terrible pilot to a good one. Which is pretty ridiculous because we don't see that with any other Gundam pilot in the show. Yes, they have a tech advantage being in a Gundam, but the format is not enough to turn a terrible pilot into a one-woman army. Otherwise Suletta would have been easily overwhelmed by Sophie and Norea at Plant Quetta. Would Lauda struggle against an AI-less Guel in a Dilanza, needing Guel to let Lauda score the finishing blow to win, if the Gund Format made every pilot as good as Suletta?

If your only other arguments are that Suletta isn't a good pilot because she pilots a Gundam, she's some form of enhanced human and/or she doesn't directly control the bits for most of the series, those can all be dismissed. Every Gundam MC pilots a Gundam, usually carrying with them a significant tech advantage over their opponents, does that make every Gundam pilot less skilled by virtue of piloting a Gundam? Nearly every well regarded pilot in the series is some sort of enhanced human depending on the setting. Newtypes, Coordinators, Innovators, X-Rounders, etc. Nearly every main series MC has some sort of supernatural and/or super human ability. Are you going to argue that Amuro, Char, Kamille, Judau, etc are all bad pilots being carried by Newtype powers alone? And regarding the bits, not every Gundam series has telepathically or directly controlled bits. Many are controlled by advanced onboard quantum computing systems. Suletta’s situation with Aerial is no different than many famous pilots over the years. No one argues that Lockon is a bad pilot because he's assisted by a Haro.

Every single one of the above arguments is rooted in misogynistic double standards. The things that people argue that prove Suletta must not be a good pilot are things virtually every male Gundam MC has, but are basically never used as an argument against their skills: it's just part of their skill set.

Ultimately you have to jump through more mental gymnastics to argue that Suletta is a bad pilot than simply watching the show and seeing what it's showing you: that Suletta is a tremendously skilled pilot with no peer except Ericht herself and maybe Shaddiq. Someone in Discord mentioned that Suletta as a pilot is very much the equivalent to an endgame Amuro or Kira. She was already raised to be an elite pilot before setting foot in Asticassia, and her only defeat in the entire show was not to another pilot with better skills or a better mobile suit. It was to Miorine, who attacked her heart and betrayed her at a critical moment. The show was not about her growth as a pilot because unlike a lot of young Gundam protagonists, she's already starting with elite piloting skills because she's been training in harsh environments since she was a child. Her only struggles piloting in the show are entirely due to people attacking her emotionally, something she was not equipped to handle due to her upbringing on Mercury. And that is where Suletta’s character growth lies.

I don't like comparing pilots across the different Gundam universes because there are way too many different variables to take into account. But I think the only reason the fandom in general doesn't consider Suletta among the elite pilots of the franchise is because she's a woman. Instead, I see her compared against other female pilots that fans will say are "average-to-bad" and then make the claim Suletta is worse because of some of the above arguments that they don't make for male pilots.

[ladytauria]

cashing in a rainy day [jaytim]

Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Rating: T Words: 5,533 Content Warnings: None

Today, though, Tim is wearing a sinfully tight pair of shorts and a loose fitting muscle tank… and Jason’s equipment upgrades aren't nearly interesting enough to keep his eyes from wandering. He tries, though. He really does. But then… he looks up again and gets a good look just as Tim lifts his shirt to dab his brow. Jason’s attention is drawn to the muscles of his abdomen; the way they flex as he breathes, the trail of dark hair leading down to the v of his hips. Jason’s throat goes desert dry. And then a water bottle enters his field of vision. Jason goes cross-eyed for a moment, looking at it, before he follows the arm extending it to Steph, her hip propped against his workstation, sly grin on her face. “Brought you some water,” she says, entirely too chipper for Jason’s liking. “You’re lookin’ pretty thirsty.” Originally written for JayTim Week 2022, using all three prompts for day 2: Carnival/Fair + Sun's Out, Guns Out + Monsoon/Summer Storm.

Big thank you to @deepwithintheabyss and @paprikadotmp4 for reading this fic over for me... and to Paprika for giving me the nudge to finally post sdfghjk

>> AO3 <<

Jason is working.

Or, he’s supposed to be. Would be, if not for Tim.

Despite being on better terms with the bats, Jason doesn’t often visit the Cave. He’s cultivated enough of his own resources that he can do without it just fine—but sometimes… Sometimes it’s just easier, and faster, to use Bruce’s equipment.

Supposedly.

Tim’s presence is testing that.

His replacement is lifting weights, while Cass acts as his spotter. He’s wearing sinfully tight compression shorts and a tank top which leaves his arms on delicious display. From his work bench, Jason has an excellent view of Tim’s left side—the way sweat rolls down his temple, messy hair plastered to the skin, his face beautifully flushed. The tight sinews of his arm as it curls, bringing the weight to his shoulder. He tracks the movement; stomach clenching.

Jason isn’t a stranger to a good arm, okay? He regularly works with Roy fucking Harper, after all. He knows what good arms look like. But Tim—

Goddamn.

It’s not like he didn’t know that Tim was attractive. He’s got eyes. It’s just… he’s rarely confronted with it so blatantly. Most of the time, when he hangs around Tim, Tim is lounging around in stolen clothing, always at least a touch too big for him. It’s cute, but. Easier to ignore. To pretend like he doesn’t want to sink his teeth into the meat of his shoulder, or suck on the jut of his hipbone, or lick the sweat dripping down his navel.

Or he’s in the Red Robin suit, and while that’s a whole different kind of attractive, Jason’s attention is usually occupied by bigger things.

Today, though, Tim is wearing a sinfully tight pair of shorts and a loose fitting muscle tank… and Jason’s equipment upgrades aren't nearly interesting enough to keep his eyes from wandering.

He tries, though. He really does.

But then… he looks up again and gets a good look just as Tim lifts his shirt to dab his brow. Jason’s attention is drawn to the muscles of his abdomen; the way they flex as he breathes, the trail of dark hair leading down to the v of his hips.

Jason’s throat goes desert dry.

And then a water bottle enters his field of vision. Jason goes cross-eyed for a moment, looking at it, before he follows the arm extending it to Steph, her hip propped against his workstation, sly grin on her face.

“Brought you some water,” she says, entirely too chipper for Jason’s liking. “You’re lookin’ pretty thirsty.”

Jason’s face flames. He snatches the water and unscrews the cap. “Shut up,” he mutters. Whose idea was it to put the workstations so close to the training area, anyway?

Steph laughs. “They do look pretty good out there, I’ll give you that.” She lifts her own water to her mouth, eyes drifting over to the weights—though her gaze lingers on where Cass is squatting, rather than on Tim.

Jason doesn’t respond. Cass and Tim are talking, and they’re just far enough away that Jason can’t make out what they’re saying. It ends with Tim climbing off the bench and dropping the weight back on the pile. He stretches, and goes toward his water bottle.

Jason watches him make his way there; this time his gaze lingering on his ass. He might not be Dick Grayson, but he’s certainly not lacking in that department, that’s for sure.

Steph ruffles his hair. “Stay hydrated,” she chirps, dodging Jason’s attempt to bat her hand away and skipping towards Cass.

Jason ducks his head. He has equipment to upgrade, dammit.

Fuck. He should have done this in his own workshop. So what if the equipment in his garage isn’t as state of the art? So what if he wouldn’t have been able to reach quite the result he wanted? At least then he could have gotten it done. Or maybe he could have taken a quick trip to Star City, and let Roy do it. None of his open cases would have suffered for it.

Ugh. Fuckin’ bats.

A shadow darkens his desk. Reluctantly, he looks up, ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off, he’s not in the mood. The words shrivel and die on his tongue.

It’s Tim, hair a mess, towel around his neck, arms still cruelly on display, his cheeks tinted pink.

“Hi,” Tim says. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. His body is loose, open, but in a way that seems almost—careful. Deliberate. If Jason didn’t know better, he’d say Tim was nervous.

“Hey,” Jason says, voice gruffer than he means it to be. He doesn’t wince, but he wants to.

“I, uh.” Tim clears his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice you were checking me out.”

If Jason had been in motion, he would have frozen. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck. He schools his expression into something unimpressed, and hopes he’s not blushing. “You should get your eyes checked, Timbo. I’ve been working. Need my armor in top shape. I got a lotta ground to cover.”

Tim doesn’t look convinced. “Last I checked, you didn’t have any pressing cases,” he says.

Jason raises a brow. “Been flexing the stalker muscles again, Timmers? What, you didn’t have enough bad guys to spy on?”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Just checking your availability,” he says. Which. What? “The county fair is coming to Gotham next week.”

“And?” Jason demands, trying desperately to make sense of the situation. Is there a case Tim needs help on? A plot to sabotage the fair? That usually passes by without incident, except for one year when Ivy turned all of the parks—including the fairgrounds—into nightmare gardens. Jason hasn’t heard any chatter, but then, Tim has been known to pull leads from thin air before, so maybe this is one of those times—?

“And I thought we could… go together. You know. As a date.” Tim’s voice cracks towards the end. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. Jason’s brain feels like static; eyes drawn to the movement almost automatically. It takes him a few swallows of his own before he manages to form words.

“—date?” Jason clears his throat. “You—with me?”

Tim nods. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” He’s blushing now, he’s sure of it. His face feels hot—so do the tips of his ears. He isn’t quite sure what to do with his hands. Or the rest of him. His heart beats rapidly in his chest. “I—um. That sounds. Cool. I’d like that.” Fuck. He can hear Roy making fun of him—see Kori covering her mouth, trying not to laugh.

So fucking smooth, Todd.

“Great!” Tim lights up; his eyes brightening, a smile on his lips. He’s always handsome, but… wow. Happy is a good look on him. “Um. Next Friday? At… six?”

“Yeah. That’s. That’s good.” Jason nods. Hopes fervently that nothing comes up between now and then that makes it not good.

“Cool! I’ll, um. See you then. And uh. On patrol. Presumably.” The flush on Tim’s face has grown steadily darker. Jason kind of wants to kiss him.

Instead he just nods again. “Yep. Definitely.”

Tim nods back. “I’m just gonna—” He jerks his thumb towards the showers, backing away. As soon as he disappears, Jason puts his head into his hands. It’s only through sheer force of will, and the reminder that Cass and Steph are still in the immediate vicinity, that keeps him from screaming. He waits for himself to calm. His heartbeat slows. The flush on his face cools. He doubts it's gone completely, but it’s gone enough. He raises his head. He’s going to finish what he came for, and then he’s going to go home. Call Roy, maybe.

As soon as his gaze lifts, he finds himself catching Steph’s gaze. She’s grinning like the horrible gremlin she is. She gives him a double thumbs up—then mimes drinking.

Jason flips her the bird.

>> AO3 <<

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

[scatterpatter]

STORM ANXIETY CANCELLED I GOT TO SUBMIT A HAIL REPORT TO THE NWS

I'd like to thank the inventors of noise cancelling headphones and blackout curtains for curing my storm anxiety 🙏

[whatwooshkai]

18!!

Boulder taps the tips of their digits together. "I have a question."

"What do you need?" Blades asks. He's putting up a garland around the perimeter of the basement, something he's been working on for days now. There are tiny little hand made models of their alt modes, trees, rocks, and other oddities that Boulder can't identify, made out of yarn big enough to hand knit with.

They're cute, and quite nice. Really bring a homey air to the place. "I need a bit of code altered."

Blades' helm whips around so fast he nearly falls over. He searches Boulder's face, but apparently doesn't find what he's looking for, because his face sets in a panicked frown and his rotors start flicking erratically. "You can't be serious."

"I'm serious," Boulder says, clasping their hands behind their back. "You're our medic, so I assumed-"

"Boulder, I am a field medic at most," Blades stresses, and some of his loose garland starts to flutter from the breeze created by his rotors. "I have no credentials. Hell, the only reason I know as much as I do is because Heatwave gets hurt so often it's all trial and error! They would never let me into the Academy, you know, they'd probably ban me from ever practicing-"

"Blades," Boulder says gently, but Blades' talking only gets more frantic.

"But code? Boulder, I can barely understand my own code, you really want me poking around in your helm? What if I mess something up? I could completely fuck up your coding, and I couldn't live with myself if I did that, living with unfulfilled protocols is horrible I can't imagine living with something broken-"

"BLADES!" Boulder shouts, and the helicopter shuts up, but his rotors are still flapping.

"Sorry," he murmurs. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

"It's something I can do myself," Boulder starts carefully, holding their hands out placatingly. "I just need a spotter."

The flapping dies down a little. "A spotter?"

"Yes, a spotter." Boulder clasps their hands again, this time against their chest. "Just in case."

"Just in case," Blades parrots, hugging his arms around himself. "What exactly do you need done?"

Boulder chews on their lip. "I just..." they trail off, trying to figure out how to phrase this. The pressure of the air has been changing all day, the sky getting darker, little beads of condensation appearing on their frame- the telltale signs of an oncoming storm. Someone like Blades would be able to better detect the changes in the atmosphere with his sensitive rotors, but Boulder doesn't have anything like that. And well... "I want to quiet a fear response."

Blades' face changes immediately. "Oh, Boulder," he says. "You can't just shove that down, you have to-"

"That's not what I meant," Boulder gently interrupts. "It's a fear response that's useless to me now. And it's going to storm."

"Oh." Blades' field reaches out in understanding, and Boulder brushes it with reassurance from their own. "You're scared of thunder."

"Not thunder. I want to experience it."

"The noise."

"Yeah."

Blades sighs. "Alright. I'll spot."

They find themselves on the floor, sitting with their legs crossed, across from each other. Their wrist ports are open and Blades has unspooled the cable from next to his, handing it to Boulder to let them plug in.

They do without much fanfare, initiating handshake protocols, and then Boulder guides Blades to the corner of their processor where all their instincts from their past as a miner lay dormant.

Well. Dormant-ish.

Where is it? Blades' voice is nice, inside of Boulder's processor. Warm and buttery smooth, but still somehow with a nervous lilt. It's kind of cool, the way it bounces around.

Here. Boulder pulls up the protocol and with it a memory- a huge bang that rattles the cavern and sends dust and pebbles showering down over Boulder and their coworkers. They dive for their positions, curling into balls, preparing for the worst. The fear is bone deep. Blades' very presence shivers with it. I want to be outside.

I know.

Blades' presence seems to hold them steady as Boulder dips their hands into the code. It shifts like water beneath their digits, slippery as they grasp for the strands that connect to their emotional core. They pinch and tie the line with a few more lines- simple things they'd been practicing doing, just extra stimuli needed to activate the protocol itself, like falling rubble, and suppressing it when rain registered as sensory input.

Boulder sighs as they finish up, letting it slip back out of their hands. Blades' relief is palpable, and it washes comfortingly over Boulder, then nestles in their spark even as they disconnect from each other.

"That wasn't so bad," Blades hums, mostly a reassurance to himself.

"Not at all," Boulder agrees.

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

That night, Boulder faces the rain.

[m1d-45]

spoken across stars II

summary: sagau voicelines part two! this time with kazuha, wanderer, and two bonuses :)

word count: ~500

-> warnings: major spoilers for liyue archon quest, minor spoilers for kazuha lore, spoilers for wanderer lore… maybe ooc baizhu

-> gn reader (you/yours) and unspecified traveller (they/them)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< kaeya, diluc, thoma || < masterlist > || zhongli, ayato, heizou >

kaedehara kazuha

about us: the traveller

the traveller… at first i assumed they were a god, with how easily the wind and earth bent to their will. now i know that they are only a medium for one, but i still wonder: were they not a vessel, could they still have stood against the shogun?

about us: the creator

friendship lv. 4

in inazuma, a near-constant storm blanketed the nation. rain pelted the earth, a flurry of sounds and smells making it impossible to find any rest. during such storms, i could only find solace at shrines, the gentle scent of incense drowning out the earth. i don’t miss being on the run, but sometimes i miss that sense of peace. the quiet only found at the altar… it’s unmatched.

about you: worship

friendship lv. 6

i, kaedehara kazuha, am many things. i am the last survivor of my clan, i am an outlaw from inazuma, a wandering samurai, and even a spotter for the crux fleet. and yet… with you, it doesn’t matter. with you, i am kazuha. you allow me to dedicate myself anew, without any of my past clinging to my shoulders… for this, i am eternally indebted.

wanderer

about us: the traveller

what about them? an outlander who was blessed by the highest of high, saving nations at their god’s behest, blah blah blah. we’ve all heard it before, so why make me recount it? if an inventor in fontaine knows who they are, then i’m certain you do.

about us: the creator

friendship lv. 4

my creator? haven’t i made my thoughts on her clear? the raiden shogun and i-… oh, you mean… for starters, i recommend the usage of titles when speaking of the divine. true gods must be respected, and crude titles like ‘the creator’ are irresponsible at best. how would you like it if i referred to the geo archon as ‘the dead one’, hm?

about you: worship

friendship lv. 6

…thank you. and… i’m sorry.

bonus!

tighnari

about the creator: ecosystem

in order to survive, an ecosystem has to maintain a careful balance, watching over everything to ensure nothing is out of place. …in a way, i suppose the same can be extended to the divine: a careful hand correcting any mistakes and helping along the plants— the people that struggle… it’s a rather beautiful metaphor.

baizhu

about the creator: violetgrass

the creator has blessed us with many medicinal herbs, used to treat and cure a wide variety of ailments. it saddens me, sometimes, that not everywhere is touched by the same blessings… there are certainly herbs i’ll never be able to see, and herbs from liyue somebody from, say, natlan will never be able to see… but that is not an inmediate concern. for now, could you pick me up some violetgrass? i’m afraid qiqi forgot to write it down in her notebook.

[jakeotters]

*taps mic* is this thing on...?

i've been off of here for so long and i apologize i was busy with school amongst other life stuff, and i took ended up taking a longer than expected hiatus from this account.

ANYWAYS, twisters came out during the time i was gone, and my love for david corenswet aside, i logged back on here and wanted to share my thoughts about it.

for anyone new here, my name is ro and i'm currently majoring in biology before transferring and majoring in meteorology. i've been obsessed with weather (tornadoes, specifically) since i was 8 years old (i'm 19 now), i've been a certified storm spotter with SKYWARN since 2021, and i've taught myself everything i know about weather over the past 11 years.

this movie completely exceeded all of my expectations. i've seen it multiple times since it came out and every time, i'm still amazed. they nailed the science, the CGI, almost everything about it is perfect. the chasing isn't 100% realistic, but it's fun, intense, and exciting. twisters has reinspired me in so many ways and has been such an exciting reminder of how thankful i am to be in this field.

the movie and the cast portrayed this thing that i love doing so incredibly well and i wish i could thank them for that. on behalf of the weather community, we were all blown away (no pun intended) by how awesome this movie is.

if you feel it...