#tagging my i/p 'palestine'

[rinielelrandir]

Very amused that people who don't know me at all read apparently half of what I posted earlier on I/P and decided my take that "I don't support any nation state and think we should do away with all of them but since this is the system we currently have it's decidedly antisemitic to single out Israel as The One To Destroy Above All Others and we should instead support peace and safety for both Israelis and Palestinians" is equivalent to "genocide is good actually." Like I know this is tumblr, aka the "piss on the poor" reading comprehension website but also like, idk, maybe learn to read before yelling at random people online and accusing them of supporting genocide? Also for the record, it's *really fucking weird and antisemitic* to yell at random Jews on the internet and accuse them of supporting genocide because they have Opinions You Personally Disagree With.

You can, in fact, simply block people who's takes you don't like. It's free! And easy! You hit the three dots at the top of the post, it opens a drop down menu and you select "block". Now the person who you think has Bad and Evil Opinions™️ will never show up in tags for you again! Problem solved! They might, unfortunately, show up on your dashboard if someone you follow reblogs something they posted or added to, because tumblr is slightly broken in that regard, but you will be saved from their opinions in tags. And they won't be able to interact with you! And there's even a handy feature you can use to hide *all* content they've ever made/posted, even stuff you're dearly beloved mutual who thinks they're cool reblogs. You just, blacklist the username. Now they will show up as filtered content and you have to manually unhide any post that mentions their username in any way, saving you from the Opinions You Don't Like. And they're free to continue *their* internet experience without you yelling at them for tagging things with something that is a general filter/sort/information tag simply because *you* think their opinions are Bad and Don't Belong There.

[hikuswing]

Original Video. | @haniaburezeq

A very belated work for @fairuzfan 's call for art in solidarity with Palestine.

[kaalbela]

We are with you people of Palestine, as always.

Pro-Palestine protests in Kolkata, November '23.

[faggotry-enjoyer]

There's a lot to be upset about re: the response to the recent self-immolation, but one element I haven't seen touched upon much is, well, this shit.

So I found Aaron Bushnell's reddit and went through his comments/posts. That young man was well read and stable as they can be. Nothing in his writings pointed to someone who was "unstable" or "brainwashed".

5.5k note tumblr post

While US media is already spinning the story as one of a mentally ill, troubled youth, Aaron’s own message in the seconds prior to his act demonstrate the moral clarity and foresight with which he pondered and ultimately decided upon his act.

palestinianyouthmovement on instagram

Like, y'all. I thought we had all come to understand that it's possible to be mentally ill or suicidal and perfectly lucid? That being articulate doesn't rule out being "troubled"? What the hell happened to "just because someone looks okay doesn't mean they're okay"? The concept of masking?

This post isn't even about whether his death was an effective protest or if he was genuinely suicidal. Others have spoken on that; don't derail this.

This about the double standards and the inconsistency. People who would previously say that obviously suicidal people can appear fine suddenly using "clarity" as evidence that someone wasn't mentally ill in the slightest. People who talked about mental health and suicide prevention suddenly glorifying this suicide as martyrdom. And for what? To prove a point? Because he agreed with you?

Would you have accepted this rhetoric for anything else? Are you really this willing to throw away vital concepts? Do you really have principles, or do you just have a side?

[simplyender]

every single queer israeli soldier who thinks their actions are somehow helping liberate queer people is literally braindead

[thehealingsystem]

now im......not jewish, and not well educated on this subject so im not sure about how to talk about it myself, but this has been picking at my mind so......can anyone tell me if this is antisemitic or not?

oh and let me just say, the original anon this person is responding to didn't mention america or living in america AT ALL. the conversation was suddenly changed to be about the us, which is the center of the world obviously (/sar), with this additional comment

im not informed enough to combat this, though this post did NOT give me a good feeling while reading it

[lizzieisright]

hey hurt/comfort idea:

soo what about the reader and abby being best friends for years and reader always had a crush on abby. they go to a party and abby introduces her new gf to u. she always liked her but thought reader didn’t (always a bit horny around reader, but they know eachother since childhood so abby mistakes readers flirting as being flirty like friends) so reader gets absolutely hartbroken, drinks till she passes out but abby takes care of her ofc. abbys gf is always with her tho so it just hurts even more.

she avoids abby till the next frat prty or smth (maybe it’s college!au) and then they hook up, abby can’t remember cause she’s too drunk and is back w her gf

very messy but i hope u get the idea :P

(also to make it more hurtful make abby mean while she’s drunk bc she’s going through a rough time but isn’t telling anyone)

It took me so long, I'm so sorry

Palestine: what can you do

I've changed a few things (they don't hook up) because I can't deal with cheating, and I couldn't decide on what ending I wanted so there's a poll in the end.

Tags: Modern AU, childhood friends, Angst, pining and unrequited love, of course.

_______________

Abby is a fucking God, and you come to this conclusion when you're 11 and she helps you with your stupid assignment.

When you're both 14 you start to understand that what you feel for her is not, in fact, an admiration. 

You come to this conclusion when you sit in her bedroom and she jokes about teaching you how to kiss because you're a loser and you agree - and yeah, the kiss is a mess, but now you both know that you want to kiss girls. And you want to kiss one girl in particular, but Abby is your best friend and you won’t do anything that will lead to losing her.

Being a God means Abby is out of your reach and you have to live with your stupid feelings.

You're jealous of every boy who jokes around her to get her attention.

You're jealous of every girl who dares to look at her a little too long.

Abby is popular and she starts dating and it breaks your heart every time, and you can't look at other people because all your gods look like Abby.

"Why don't you go on a date?" Abby asks once when you're 16 and you're eating pizza in your bedroom, watching another marvel movie. "I think Jen likes you."

"I don't want to." What would be the point if the only person you want to date won't ever look at you this way?

"Why? Don't you get horny like the rest of us mortals?"

The worst part of being in love with your popular best friend is that she recently lost her virginity and she can't shut up about sex because she is excited about it.

"I have my hand, Abby." You roll your eyes at her.

"But it feels better when the other person does it." Abby winks and puts her hand on your thigh. "It's better, isn't it?" She rubs your thigh and your breath hitches. She looks at you, playful, and goes a little up on your thigh, and your face burns.

"You belong in horny jail, Anderson." You laugh, but don't move her hand: if you move it she'll call you a chicken, but she is a chicken enough herself to not move it further.

And she doesn't.

You live your life peacefully, dealing with your feelings as best as you can.

Then college starts and you're too busy to think about Abby 24/7 and you feel like it gets easier. Like you can breathe around her and you almost don't feel pain when she talks about her sex life.

Almost.

You know it's easy to deal with because all those girls in her bed are temporary while you're in Abby's life forever, and not because your feelings suddenly fainted. Abby likes to sleep around, she is a flirt even with you - a lot, actually, she thinks she can get away with a lot by saying she is touch-starved and then her hands wander off somewhere they're not supposed to be, and you let her, because you'll take whatever you can.

So you go through Abby's fuckboy phase with ease, because sex talk is way better than feelings talk.

A few years pass and suddenly the feelings talk starts, and you're slowly dying inside, because Abby likes someone. Abby talks about how nervous she is around her, she is always on her phone texting her, she is always busy when you want to spend time with her.

You hate this girl with all you have, because she takes Abby away, she takes everything away - Abby is not touchy anymore, she only hugs you briefly when you see her, she is not listening to you half of the time, too caught up in her fantasies.

You hope her girl is a bitch and an asshole and toxic so you can talk Abby out of it, but then Abby tells you she is going to introduce you at the party and you cry yourself to sleep that night.

"How do I look?"

"Like you need Jesus." You say honestly because Abby in the muscle tee and a pair of cargo pants makes you ache.

"Yeah?" Abby looks at you through the mirror with that fucking smirk she knows you like. "Am I fuckable?"

"We both know you prefer to be on the other end of that word, Anderson." You roll your eyes and put your shoes on only to straighten up to Abby's face way too close. She looks you up and down.

"You're very fuckable though."

"Fuck off." You huff and open the door of her apartment, hoping she won't tease you for being flustered. "Let's go before Manny gets so drunk you'll have to carry him. Again."

You spent the night in dread of meeting Abby's girl, dreaming of seeing her red flags or something to have a real reason to hate her to Abby's face, but then Abby lights up and she excuses herself to go and meet her girl, while you try so hard to not throw up from your nerves.

The girl is gorgeous.

"This is (y/n)." Abby motions at you and you smile politely. "This is Mia."

"I'm so happy to meet you." Mia smiles and she looks kind and genuine and fuck, you can't hate her. There's no jealousy in her, no fake smiles, no tense body language. "Abby loves you so much."

You swallow hard.

"I put up with so much of her shit, she doesn't have a choice." You joke and Mia laughs.

Mia is funny and cute and you understand why Abby likes her, because it's impossible not to. Mia is a type of girl that you'd think of as a bitch because she is popular, therefore arrogant, but when you get to know her she is a total sweetheart who'd help you find a way to your class if she notices you're lost.

This is hard.

This is going to break you.

You can't cope with this. You can't cope with seeing Abby's gentle gaze on Mia, with her careful touch and constant care. So you excuse yourself and go to the bar to get drunk, as if you can drown your feelings by dragging them to the bottom of the bottle. You dance and you drink, you dance and you drink and repeat it five other times until all long islands make you feel sick and you can't walk by yourself anymore. You're an independent woman and you refuse to ask for help, but when you can't order a taxi for the fifth time because your eyes are so blurry, Mia comes to you and holds you by your elbow.

"We will take you home, okay?" She says kindly and you feel your lips tremble. We.

"Jus- can you c'll a taxi f'me?" You slur, but you feel Abby's hand on your waist as she supports you. "Don't wanna ruin your night."

"You're not ruining anything." Mia says cheerfully and orders a taxi when Abby gives her your address. "Happens to the best of us."

The drive home makes you super dizzy and Abby has to put her hand between your head and the car door because you hit it all the time. The moment the car stops and Abby goes around to help you get on your legs, you throw up on the ground and it's a miracle you don't get everyone's shoes dirty.

Abby decides to carry you to your place and you can't shut up even for a second.

"I'm s'sorry guys. Not a good first impression. I really like you, Mia. You look kind. Like a grandma. In a good way, I'm sorry." Mia giggles. "Your laugh is very cute. It's cute, right Abby?"

"Yeah." Abby agrees quietly and what you don't know is that for her your drunken rant was way cuter than her girlfriend's laugh.

"Yeah. You look great together, I'm s'happy for you Abby. Haven't seen her that nervous because of a girl in years, can you imagine, Mia? You make this asshole nervous." You're chuckling sadly, you want to cry because you don't make Abby nervous.

No, you just embarrass her in front of her girlfriend because you're so pathetically in love you can't deal with it and drink half of the bar until you forget how to walk on your own.

Abby helps you change and Mia gives you water. She makes sure there is fresh air in your room and she tucks your blanket, and you close your eyes to hide your tears because Mia is so nice. She is a dream girl and Abby is so happy and there is no space for you anymore.

Because Mia took your place in that forever equation.

On the next day you text your apologies to both Abby and Mia (she followed you on instagram and asked you how you felt) and you can't deal with this. It hurts so much because you love Abby so much and you want her to be happy but it seems like the price of it is going to be your heart.

So you start avoiding her as best as possible, and what is more sad - it's not even that hard. Abby is always with Mia, fuck, Mia even asks you to come with them to hang out, which you always find an excuse not to. Library, fever, other plans, other plans again, sorry, paper is due tomorrow, my aunt is in town (she is not). Anything to not meet with them.

You still see Abby during classes and you give each other life updates, but it's been weeks since you actually hung out and you accept the reality that yes, there's no place for you in Abby's life anymore.

You cry every fucking night.

Then Abby suddenly remembers you exist and she asks you if you want to hang out, just the two of you, because she misses you. You miss her too and you agree.

You regret it the moment she cuddles you in front of her tv. She has a girlfriend now, why is she so touchy again? Did something happen with Mia that Abby came to you?

"Is everything okay with Mia?"

"Yeah, she is great." Abby says and buries her nose in your neck.

No. You can't deal with this.

So you start avoiding Abby at all costs after this - you can't shake the feeling that this is cheating, because for you Abby's touch has never been platonic, no. And it never felt platonic either, it was always giving you hope because Abby was flirting and touching the way friends don't touch each other. Maybe one day she'd finally give you a chance, you thought, but this day never came.

It is another party a month and half later - yay, Abby and Mia have been together for two months now! - and you don't know if Abby is going to come, but you hope she doesn't. You know she knows something is up and she will want her answers if she meets you.

But you have fun. You play games, you drink, you dance, you get flirted with and you forget about your pain just to get so drunk again you can't help but go outside to find a place to cry in peace.

You miss Abby, you miss her because she is a part of you and yes, you're in love with her, but she also your best fucking friend and you hate yourself for being in love with her, because it ruins your life. It has been ruining your life since you were fourteen and actually understood what you felt, but now it was getting serious.

"(Y/n)?"

Fuck.

You wipe your tears and look at Abby who is standing right in front of you.

"Hi." You squeak and she drops on the knees to look at you.

"Did something happen? Why are you crying?"

"I'm just sad. Don't worry." You try to smile but Abby's frown makes you cry more. "I'm going home anyway, so you can enjoy the party."

"What the hell are you saying? I'm not leaving you."

She should. She should leave you and not complicate it further.

Abby calls a taxi and you chuckle in your head - If you had a nickel for every time Abby was taking your drunk ass home, you'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

You tell her as much because the meme is funny and you try to be positive.

Abby helps you out of the car and this time you don't throw up.

"You know, last time I totally embarrassed myself in front of Mia." You chuckle and make your way upstairs with Abby's arm around your waist. "She is cute, I'm so happy for you."

Abby chuckles and leads you inside your apartment, but between the two of you she is mostly sober and she has some questions, and she wants her answers. You know this too, so when you sit on your sofa you feel like all your shields are crumbling: you’re giving up on hiding this from her. If this is the end, so be it.

"You've been avoiding me." Abby says quietly, looking you in your eyes like she is just a little bit mad. 

"Yeah, I know." You admit with a chuckle. "You have a girlfriend now, it's so cool. When was the last time you liked someone like that? Back in school?"

"So you've been avoiding me on purpose." 

"I don't think you can avoid someone accidentally, Abby.” You say, not holding back your venom. “Anyway, I’m so happy for you.”

“Why are you avoiding me?” Abby moves closer to you  and you swallow your tears because there’s nowhere to run.

“Because it’s easier.” You shrug. “I just want you to be happy, okay? Does Mia make you happy?”

“Yeah.” Abby admits and you start crying again: it hurts so fucking much. 

“Good. It’s good. I’m happy for you.” You sniffle and Abby huffs, annoyed.

“Stop saying that. Stop avoiding my questions.”

Inside you all hell breaks loose.

“I love you, okay?” You finally burst. “I love you, and it hurts so fucking bad and I can’t fucking see you with her or know that you’re with her! What do you want me to do? What would you do if you were me? I can’t- I can’t-” You throw your hands desperately and bite your lip, too angry with this whole situation.

“I love you too.” Abby says, confused.

“No, no Abby, you don’t understand.” You’re quiet and angry, almost spitting every word out. “I’m in love with you. I’m not jealous as a friend, Abby. I’m jealous because I want to be in her place, okay? Fuck, I wanted to be in your every girl’s place since you started dating girls!” 

There is silence. You thought it would be terrifying - this silence - but right now you feel nothing except how dizzy your head is. You feel empty and there's no tears anymore. Abby stares at you in shock, her fists clenched, and you chuckle cynically. 

“So can I continue avoiding you now or should I suffer more?”

“Fuck, (y/n)..” Abby sighs and rubs her forehead, going over her face with her palm. “Fuck. Don't do this to me.”

“Well.” You huff, annoyed. “Not like I have a fucking choice, Anderson.”

Abby throws her head back and stares at the ceiling while you do the same, trying to keep your drunk ass stable. You feel like eternity passes before Abby speaks again, and it is strangely comforting, having your best friend here with you, in this boat of pain, and sharing it with her. 

“All these years. All these years we could have been together.” Abby sounds like she is mourning. 

You thought your heart broke when you met Mia? Forget it, it's broken now.

You sob, howl almost, and Abby is suddenly holding you in her arms, placing kisses to your hair. Her heart can't handle seeing you cry, never could - yes, she tried to move on with Mia, and it worked partially, but all her effort went to shit just now. You're the most precious girl to her and nothing can change it. Abby swallows and braces herself, suddenly making a decision in her head, all her anxiety about what is a right thing to do gone. 

“You know what? Fuck it. Fuck all that time we've missed. I'm not letting you go now.” Abby says in your ear and you sob even more violently. “Come on, baby, I'm here. Let me see your face.”

You can't believe it. You can't even process it: is it your drunken dream? Are you hallucinating? It would definitely not be the first time. But you look up at Abby and she gently wipes your tears and there’s so much love and hurt in her eyes it’s hard not to break into another sobbing fit. 

“I've been in love with you since we were seventeen.” Abby smiles at you and you shakily smile back. “I’m sorry it came to this. But I'm here now.”

“I love you.” You say feverishly and Abby's restraint breaks.

She kisses you hungrily, practically devouring you, and you're weak, so you return her kiss and press into her, soaking in her warmth and strength. Abby is solid and tender, she holds you like she cares and you cling to her for a moment.

But then you remember yourself and push Abby away, shaking your head.

“No. You're better than this. You're not going to betray Mia like this. I'm not going to let you, Abby. We're not doing this,” You motion between yourself and her. “Behind your girlfriend's back. And I'm also fucking drunk.”

Abby chuckles and kisses your forehead. 

“Come on, I'll help you get into your bed.”

Everything else after is a blur as Abby helps you change and covers you with your blanket, and you fall asleep. You can't wait for the morning to come.

****

[proxima-writes]

the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun

pairing: storm chaser!joel miller x storm chaser!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6.5k

summary:

Storm chaser-turned-weatherman Joel Miller hunts down his old crew in an effort to serve his wife with divorce papers. When a storm interrupts his efforts, he finds himself falling back into old routines and old feelings.

A Twister (1996) AU

author’s note: are you someone, like me, who was fucking obsessed with the movie twister and at one point made it your entire personality (maybe even at too young of an age)? then this fic is for you! this may be one of my favorite fics ever and i hope you enjoy it, too. please consider reblogging or commenting or even dropping into my ask box if you like the fic, i would love to hear from you!

amazing title art by @atinylittlepain

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only, minors do not interact), explicit language, undefined age gap, able bodied reader (actions include running, lifting, climbing), no reader physical characteristic descriptions, dual pov, established relationship, estranged marriage, mentions of divorce, alternate universe - movie: twister (1996), not a direct rewrite of the movie but pretty close, storm chaser!joel, storm chaser!reader, natural disaster action scenes, mild angst, mention of reader’s parent’s deaths, praise, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cum eating, minor character death.

masterlists: all characters | joel miller

support for palestine

The first person to notice Joel’s truck pulling up to the makeshift weather station site is his brother, Tommy.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” He says, hands on his hips. Joel gets out of his truck and Tommy envelops him in a strong hug. “Had no idea you were comin’ out here.”

“I didn’t plan on it,” Joel admits. He waves the envelope in his hand. “But I can’t get her to sign ‘em unless I track her down myself.”

The expression on Tommy’s face drops and he nods, clearing his throat. “She’s around here somewhere.”

“Probably hiding from you,” another voice chimes. Tommy’s wife, Maria, jumps from the back of a nearby pick up truck where she had been fixing a satellite. “Welcome back, Joel.”

“I ain’t back,” he grumbles, giving her a quick hug. “How’re you, Maria?”

“Sweaty,” she replies. “Heard you got yourself a nice channel gig. Must explain the suit.”

Joel looks down at his outfit of tan slacks and a matching suit jacket over a white button up shirt. He tries to think of a response, but another familiar voice calls out his name.

“The prodigal son returns!” Tess shouts. Her short hair has grown out since the last time he’s seen her, but the ever present camera around her neck remains the same. 

He notices movement from the back of one of the vans. You emerge, wiping your hands on a grease stained rag and for a brief moment, a bolt of longing courses through him like a lightning strike. 

“Joel,” you say, a smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Wasn’t expecting you out here.”

“You won’t answer any of my calls,” he replies. A tense silence falls over the group until Maria nudges Tommy in the ribs and drags him off while Tess mumbles an excuse about checking the radio and escapes in the other direction. “Have you looked at the papers?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there a reason you haven’t signed them?”

“Been a bit busy,” you say, gesturing to the camp. “I got something you’ll want to see.”

You brush past him and Joel sighs, rubbing a hand across his face in exasperation before turning to follow you to one of the trucks. You pull yourself up into the bed and stand beside a large metal container.

“She’s here, Joel,” you say proudly, hitting one of the buttons. The lid on the unit pops open. “ELLIE.”

“No shit?” Joel asks, climbing onto the truck for a closer look. He picks up one of the spherical sensors, holding it up for inspection. “I’ll be damned. You really did it.”

“We did it,” you respond quietly. The expression on your face is painfully familiar, that combination of pride and sadness that he’s grown accustomed to in the last few years. He murmurs your name, tries to think of something else to say, but a shout interrupts his efforts.

“We’ve got action!” Tess yells. 

The camp explodes into a flurry of movement. Equipment is packed away with speed and efficiency while anything else that isn’t fragile is tossed into the nearest truck or van. Joel watches it all and remembers when he used to be part of this machine, calling out orders and getting on the radio for coordinates as he hit the gas and peeled out in a cloud of dirt and dust.

He’s so caught up in it all that he almost forgets why he was here, and when he remembers you still haven’t signed the papers he curses, running for his truck and taking off after you down the rural roads.

“You comin’ with, brother?” Tommy’s voice crackles over his truck radio. 

“She didn’t sign!” Joel says back. 

“Keep lying to yourself, Joel!” Maria calls back. 

It’s a race against time and God, the storm clouds overhead dark and churning ominously. The air is filled with static, lightning striking in the distance. Joel can feel it all in his veins, the adrenaline thick as he keeps speed with the rest of his former crew. The honk of a horn draws his eyes to the rearview mirror, where a gleaming black Surburban is gaining speed on him.

“Son of a bitch,” he snaps. He grabs the radio. “We got company!”

The Surbuban pulls up beside him, a woman in the passenger seat that refuses to look his way. Marlene, once a lab mate of yours and Joel’s in the early days of your career, is now the face of FEDRA’s corporate sponsorship. Sold out for shiny toys, Joel once said. 

“What’s Marlene doin’ here?” Joel asks. 

“Bet she’s wondering the same thing about you!” You chime in.

The convoy of uniformed vehicles speeds past him, the old trucks his crew still uses no match for them. In his distraction, he narrowly misses a fallen tree limb, careening off the dirt road with a loud bang.

“Fuck!” He shouts. His tire has gone flat.

This is the last thing he needs.

You watch Joel through the window of the little diner you’ve all made a stop at once the storm broke up on the radar as you had been driving to catch it. He’s across the street at the mechanic to get a new tire, having driven in on the spare that Tommy circled back to help him put on. You twist the plain gold band on your finger, lost in thought.

“Hey,” Tess says, sliding onto the stool beside you. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” you reply quickly. Her keen gaze makes you fold. “Weird. It feels weird.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s in a suit.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“He looks good.”

“Sure, if you like ‘em with a stick up their—“

“What’s channel four doing here?” You ask, cutting her insult off. The news crew is unloading their gear from their van as the anchor speaks to Marlene, who’s gesturing to a piece of equipment that looks suspiciously similar to the culmination of your life’s work sitting in the bed of your truck. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you snap, racing for the door. 

“This is ABBY, the first unit of its kind. It’s built to give us a look inside of the funnel, allowing more precise storm prediction that could mean a world of difference for preparation and survival,” Marlene says proudly. “Inside are hundreds of sensors that, once deployed, will spiral inside of the tornado and report back real-time, accurate measurements.”

“Hey!” Joel barks, coming up to the scene from the opposite direction. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“Cut!” The anchor yells as Joel crowds in close to Marlene.

“You really think you can get away with rippin’ off our idea?” Joel snaps. 

“I only took your idea and made it a reality,” Marlene responds, holding her hands up placatingly. “Face it, Joel. Your team doesn’t have the same resources to get this idea off the ground. Literally.” She laughs. “Besides, what are you doing here? I thought you retired.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. ELLIE isn’t just a dream anymore. We’ve got her here.”

Marlene’s smile falters. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” Joel says. “And she’s going to be the first in the air.”

“We’ll see about that, Joel.” She steps back, addressing her crew. “Pack it up. Let’s hit the road.”

You stand there together watching as they pull out of the parking lot and back onto the two lane highway. When they’ve disappeared from sight, you give Joel’s shoulder a tentative pat. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you tell him. “Hopefully you’re right.”

The look he gives you is serious, a furrow between his brow that you used to smooth with your thumb, back before things fell apart. You smile at the memory. The tension eases from his shoulders and his lips curl up the slightest bit, as if in response. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Tommy says, breaking your attention from his brother. “But we got another development on the radar.”

“Alright, let’s get her,” you reply, breaking away from them to get to your truck. Joel is still standing there when you chance a look over your shoulder. “You just gonna stand there, or are you coming?”

“You still haven’t signed the papers!” He shouts back.

“I can sign them in the truck!”

He curses but jogs after you, coming up behind you and beating you to the driver’s door. “I’m drivin’,” he says.

“No,” you argue. “This is my truck.”

“You think I forgot how to drive this thing?”

“I think you’re out of practice!”

“You’re wastin’ time, just get in the fuckin’ truck,” he snaps. You roll your eyes and do as he says.

Some things never really change.

“You have to get ahead of it!” You shout. Hail pelts the roof of the truck and bounces off the windshield as Joel drives down the dirt road. Wind whips through the trees and lightning flashes in the fields while the clouds churn and peak at threatening speed.

“I know!” He shouts back, both hands tight on the wheel. “I can’t fuckin’ see anythin’!”

“Just cut across the field!”

“I can get us further ahead on the road!”

“We’re going to get stuck alongside it!”

“Do you want to drive?!” 

“I’d love to!”

Joel huffs, accelerating faster. The clouds gather more tightly, stretching from the sky towards the earth. He glances out of his window and catches a glimpse of the storm, his heart pounding as he watches the funnel organize. He watches it for a moment before slamming on the breaks, the truck fishtailing as it comes to a screeching halt.

“What are you doing?!”

Marlene’s team speeds by with angry honks of their horns, but Joel’s attention remains fixed on the tornado. “It’s goin’ to shift its path.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, squinting. 

“Look at it, it’s a sidewinder. It’s headin’ left,” he confirms. He throws the truck in reverse, speeding back towards the road they passed. The rest of the team has caught up and follows them down the one lane road. 

“There it goes!” You shout, smacking the dashboard in your excitement. You grab the radio. “Alright, tell us what you’ve got, Maria.”

“F2, shifting south. Repeat, shifting south. This thing is unstable,” she says, voice crackling over the speaker. “You guys have a shot but you’re going to be cutting it real close.”

You look at Joel, and he sees that spark in your eyes, the determination he’s always admired, even loved, and he knows he can’t say no. Not to you.

“Let’s get it.”

“We’re running out of time,” you tell him, binoculars held up to your eyes. “We’re not going to make it.” 

“We will,” he insists. Joel brakes after another half of a mile and you’re out of the cab before the truck even comes to a complete stop. 

The rain immediately drenches you, soaking through your clothes and wrapping you in an icy chill. You’re removing the tethers that hold ELLIE securely to the truck bed and turning the unit on when Joel joins you.

“We have to get it on the ground!” You shout, barely audible over the wind. One of the tethers is stuck, strap not coming loose from the buckle no matter how hard you pull. Joel jumps into the bed and tries to help but with the rain and wind, both of your hands keep slipping.

Joel looks up, eyes going wide. His hand wraps around your bicep, pulling. “We have to get out of here!”

“But ELLIE—“

“Now!” He shouts. 

A sound similar to a freight train reaches your ears and panic courses through your veins. Joel pulls on your arm again and this time you follow, jumping from the truck and running as fast as you can. He reaches an arm back towards you, grabbing your hand and tugging you along. He veers to the left, the two of you sliding down a muddy embankment and landing in a ditch. 

“Get up,” Joel urges, helping you to your feet. “We gotta get down over there by that bridge, come on!”

Together you trudge through the mud, wind picking up speed around you as the cyclone draws closer. You have your arm held up to shield your eyes from debris and your other hand in front of you, gripping Joel’s jacket tightly. 

You make it beneath the cover of the bridge, a slight reprieve from the wind and rain. Joel squeezes his body tightly to yours, pressing you against the dirt and shielding you from the storm. You open your eyes, peering past his shoulder to where you can see the edge of the wide tornado base and the debris it kicks up in its wake. 

Suddenly, the world grows quiet. The air goes still, the rain slows from a downpour to a shower. You can feel Joel’s chest heaving with breath against yours, cadence of it matching the pounding of your heart. He backs away slowly and lifts his hands, gently cupping your face.

“You okay?” Joel breathes, eyes searching. You wrap your hands around his wrists and nod. His thumb strokes across your cheekbone, slowly, before he releases your face. “Good. That’s…good.”

“Hey! You’re alive!” You both look up to find Tess at the top of the embankment, hands on her hips. “Tommy owes me twenty bucks!”

“He should know better than to bet against me,” Joel says. His attention returns to you. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Back at street level, you assess the damage. Your truck has been flipped, the ELLIE unit dented but still intact. More notably, the sensors didn’t deploy.

“Fuck,” you curse. “All of that and it didn’t even open.”

“There’s always next time,” Tess assures you.

“You know…we could all use a shower….and a meal,” Tommy says. You shoot him a look.

“No.”

“Come on,” he needles. “You’re covered in mud. We’ll need to get your truck towed somewhere for repairs.”

“I said no.”

“We haven’t had anything but shitty diner food and granola bars for four days,” Maria adds.

“You must really want a hot a meal if you’re willing to face Uncle Bill.”

“That a yes?” Tommy asks. Everyone watches you expectantly.

“Fine,” you sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Joel rides in the van with Tommy and Maria while you go with Tess in her truck. It doesn’t take long to reach the familiar ranch style home that sits on four acres of farmland, complete with a barn that’s become more for show than for function in your Uncle Bill’s older age. 

When the van pulls up to the house, Bill’s husband, Frank, is outside on the porch, sitting in a rocking chair with a drink in hand. He waves as Tommy honks to announce their arrival.

The front door opens, Bill’s large frame filling the doorway. His beard has grown since the last time Joel saw him, and it seems as though his ever present frown has too. Joel watches you run up the porch steps and wrap your arms around both men, though Bill is quick to shove you off when he sees the state you’re in. Despite the reaction, Joel can see the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Joel stays towards the back of the group as they approach. He won’t go so far as to say he’s hiding, but it’s a near thing. Handshakes and hugs are exchanged right up until Bill catches sight of him.

“Joel,” he says, crossing his arms.

“Uncle Bill,” Joel replies.

“Just Bill is fine.”

Joel clears his throat, avoiding the man’s gaze. you appear behind him, breaking the tension. 

“I’m going to take a shower and then I can help you with dinner,” you tell Bill.

“Who said I was feeding you?” 

“Frank did.”

“Sorry, honey!” Frank yells from the kitchen. 

Joel escapes Bill’s attention with your distraction, darting into the kitchen to join the others. He helps Frank peel and dice potatoes while Maria and Tess make biscuits and Tommy helps Bill grill up a towering plate of steaks and burgers. Despite his outward show of annoyance, your Uncle Bill is a good guy who always takes care of the crew when they come rolling into his driveway, half starved and exhausted. 

“Didn’t expect to see you back,” Frank comments, tone light. 

“Didn’t expect to be back,” Joel replies. 

“What brings you here, then?”

“Got tired of waitin’ on her to sign the divorce papers.”

Frank hums in response and Joel braces himself for a speech but a minute passes in silence. Then two minutes. Frank sets his potato peeler down and leans his hip against the counter, facing Joel.

“It’s a real shame,” he says, shaking his head and staring out the window to where Bill and Tommy are laughing together. “You two were really good together.”

Joel doesn’t reply, because what is there to say? Frank is right. You and Joel were good together. Where Joel was hotheaded, you were calm. Where Joel took things too seriously, you were more carefree. But perhaps the greatest difference between you two was where Joel let fear stop him in his tracks, you let it drive you. 

It’s what started the arguments in the first place. He started feeling like he was getting too old, too worn out for chasing storms. He wasn’t as sharp as he used to be, not as quick, and it was starting to hang heavy over his head. Thoughts of retirement came to him more frequently and each time he brought it up, it would ignite an argument until he just didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. It was just easier to walk away.

“Shower’s free,” you announce as you enter the kitchen, no longer caked in mud. 

“My turn,” Joel says. Frank gives him a sideways glance but doesn’t say anything about his silence and swift exit.

Dinner is ready when he's finished with his shower and he takes a seat in the open chair beside you. The whole scene, the normalcy of it, makes Joel feel like a ship returning to port after rough seas. He missed this -- the inside jokes, the playful ribbing, Bill's annoyed huffs and Frank's wide eyed stare as he listens to you recount the events of the day. You even pat his knee when you notice his leg bouncing beneath the table, like the gesture is second nature, even though you haven't done it in the two years since he's left.

He helps with the dishes after everyone has finished eating and puts away what little leftovers remain. Tommy and Maria decide to go to bed in one of the guest rooms while Tess remains in the living room, watching a rerun of Jeopardy with Frank. Joel notices that you're nowhere to be found, but he has a feeling he knows exactly where you've gone.

He leaves the house through the back door, heading through the field towards the barn. The sun is setting, casting everything in an orange glow as the sky begins to turn shades of purple instead of blue. The old wooden doors creak as he pries them open and steps inside the building, the smell of hay hitting him in the face like a wall.

There's a loft, accessible by a ladder, that he knows you've made your own. It's been your escape ever since you were a kid, when you came to live with your Uncle Bill after a storm that destroyed your home and ripped your parents from you. He climbs up to the loft, hoisting himself onto the platform.

You're sitting on the wood floor, a quilt from the house spread out beneath you. You’ve brought a lamp up with you, warm light beating back the rapidly oncoming darkness. You look up when he stands.

“Hey,” he says, stepping closer. He kneels onto the quilt with you.

“Hey.”

You shift your weight until you’re lying on your back and Joel does the same beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. You’re both quiet for a long moment, sounds from the field drifting in through the cracks in the wood. 

“When will it be enough?” Joel finally asks. You sigh.

“Not this again,” you complain. 

“What is it about retirement that scares you so damn much?”

“Retirement doesn’t scare me. I could take the easy way out, too. I could make a pretty little weather woman for some local news channel, but that’s not what I want. It’s never been what I want.” You take a deep breath. “So stop acting surprised that I won’t change for you or anyone else, for that matter. And if that’s something that you can’t love about me—“

“It ain’t about not lovin’ you. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you,” he interrupts, lifting himself so that he can look at your face. Your eyes are glassy, streaks of wetness stretching from the corners to your temple. “But I can’t ever be enough for you.”

Your expression changes, shifting from sadness to surprise to anger. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m gettin’ older, I’m not as good at this gig as I used to be.”

“That’s why you left? Because you think you’re…what? Holding us back?”

“Wasn’t I?”

“No! You big fucking idiot,” you snap. “I can’t believe this.” You sit up, shoving his shoulder and knocking him onto his back. You throw your leg over him, settling over his lap. His hands settle on your thighs, a reflex that hasn’t faded. Your expression is stern as you stare down at him. “You will always have a place with us. With me.”

Joel lets your words sink in, the light of them illuminating the dark parts of his mind that had convinced him you were better off without him. He slides a hand up your belly, over your chest, curling it around the back of your neck and urging you forward.

You come to him easily, your lips finding his.

It feels like coming home.

Joel’s mouth is eager as he kisses you, devours you, hands hot on your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You missed this, the feeling of being consumed by him, from your body and down to your soul. 

He rolls the two of you over, easing you down onto your back and hovering over you. You gaze up at him, noting the deeper creases by his eyes and the grey that has started to become more prominent in his hair and the only thought that comes to you is how beautiful he is. 

Joel leaves wet kisses on your neck in three spots — just below your ear, right over your pulse, and just above your clavicle, a pattern he established years ago. The warm air chills the spots he’s left behind as he moves lower, down your chest, pushing up your shirt to give the same attention to your belly. It makes your stomach flip, the way he peeks up at you with dark eyes when he reaches the waist of your jeans. 

Instead of moving lower, his focus returns to your breasts. He moves the cups of your bra down to reveal your tight nipples, warm tongue circling each bud in turn. You squirm beneath his weight, cry out when his teeth scrape the sensitive skin. You can feel the smile that graces his lips.

“Still so sensitive,” he says. You gently whack his head in retaliation. “Quit it. Be a good girl or you won’t get your reward.”

“Yes, sir,” you murmur. 

“That’s it, knew you could be good for me.” He squeezes your breast in one large hand. “Just needed the right motivation.”

He sits back on his heels and makes quick work of unbuttoning your pants, tugging the zipper down before curling his fingers into the waistband and dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear. Barrier discarded, he settles on his belly between your thighs, face close enough to your core that you can feel the quick brush of his breath on your needy cunt. You wiggle your hips, hoping to spur him into action, but a strong arm holds you still and you let out a low whine.

“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Joel asks, fingers lightly tracing your skin. “Somethin’ you want? Somethin’ you need?”

“You,” you mumble.

“Louder.”

“You, Joel.”

He kisses your inner thigh, stubble scratching the sensitive skin and making you shiver. Your breath catches in anticipation as he draws nearer to your heat. 

The first swipe of his tongue through your folds is like a bolt of lightning to your system, every nerve ending lighting up and your blood coursing hot in your veins. He starts off slow, just the way you like it, broad circles over your clit until you’re squirming in his hold. Then he dips lower, thrusting the tip of his tongue inside of you while his nose continues to nudge your aching clit. 

He brings you to the very edge of release before backing off, just enough that you don’t tip over before he’s ready for you to. It drives you crazy, has you cursing his name and begging for him in equal measure, but he’s nothing if not stubborn, generous yet greedy.

“Joel,” you cry, his name a plea. “Are you going to let me come?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says. His chin is shiny with with spit and slick when he looks up, eyes a little wild and hair messy from your fingers. “But not yet.”

“Fuck!” You snap, head dropping to the wood floor with a thud as he presses two thick fingers inside of you, curling them with each drag from your body.  His mouth rejoins the effort, lips wrapping around your clit. It’s too much and so good, that wave of pleasure finally coursing through you as you shatter from his ministrations.

He works you through it, tongue gentle and fingers stilling inside of you, your cunt pulsing around them. When your muscles finally relax, he sits up, holding his hand up to your face and pressing his fingers to your lips. You open your mouth obediently, the earthy taste of your release exploding across your taste buds as you lick the digits clean.

“Missed this,” Joel murmurs, watching you intently. “Missed you.”

“Missed you,” you reply. You reach your hand up, running it down his chest until you’re cupping the prominent bulge in his jeans. “Missed this, too.”

He laughs, shoulders shaking with the force of it. It pulls a smile from you, your beautiful man so carefree, no sign of that troubled wrinkle between his brows and his cheeks flushed with life, the same way they are when he’s coming down from the adrenaline of a chase. He unbuttons his jeans, shimmies the denim down just enough to free his cock.

Joel grips himself at the base, flushed head peeking from his fist. He teases your entrance, slipping his length through your wetness and bumping your still sensitive clit. Your back arches and a moan escapes your lips, one that Joel echoes himself as he slowly, slowly, slowly pushes inside of your tight heat.

“Joel,” you whisper, fingers curling tight into the quilt beneath you. “Joel.”

“I know,” he says. “God, I know.”

When his hips are flush with yours, he leans forward, elbows on either side of your head propping himself up. His cock fills you so perfectly, the stretch almost too much to bear as he starts to move. Each purposeful thrust has you seeing stars, has you gasping and moaning his name. He silences you with his lips, so messy and uncoordinated it can hardly be called a kiss. You clench around him, desperate to keep him inside of you with each drag from your body. 

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” Joel groans. “Can you come for me, baby? One more time?”

“Mhm,” you hum. He picks up the pace, quick strokes that hit your g-spot with impressive precision. You feel the knot of your release grow tighter, tighter, until it finally unravels, every nerve ending lighting up like you’ve been struck by lightning. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he presses deep, cock twitching and spilling inside of you.

Joel presses his forehead to yours as you both catch your breath, sweat cooling on your skin as minutes pass. When he lifts his head and stares down at you, it’s with a smile on his face.

“That was—“

“Yeah,” you agree. “See? You still got it, old man.”

“Nevermind, I still want a divorce.”

You laugh, loud and carefree. For the first time in years, you feel a sense of peace.

A sense of home.

The two of you get caught in an unexpected downpour as you leave the barn and Joel follows the sound of your laughter as you run through the field back to the main house. Inside, you press a kiss to Joel’s lips, water dripping to the floor beneath you. You’re smiling and he swears he’s never felt more alive, even when chasing the biggest storm.

When you break apart, you whisper that you’re going to take another shower and change. Joel tells you he’s going to clean up the mess to avoid Bill’s wrath. Another kiss, and another, until you finally break away and shut yourself in the bathroom down the hall. He stands there for a moment, lost in thought, until the sound of the shower running spurs him into motion and he goes to search for a towel to clean up the water that’s pooled in the hallway.

As he passes by the living room, heading for the linen closet, he notices the TV is on, the room illuminated in its flickering glow. He stops in the doorway and Frank looks up at him, a knowing smile on his face.

Joel smiles back.

For now, it’s their little secret.

The next day, Bill deems your truck operational. It has a fresh new set of dents and scratches, but it’ll otherwise drive despite the abuse. You spend some time inspecting the unit and determine the lid latch is a little too secure, which explains why the sensors couldn’t deploy. Joel helps you loosen the bolts, the simple task taking twice as long with how often he distracts you when your crew members aren’t looking. You replace the latch with another tether strap that can be quickly released on deployment.

When all is said and done, everyone takes turns saying goodbye to your uncles. Frank tells you to be safe and Bill tells you to not be stupid, which is essentially the same thing. You watch as Joel receives a handshake from Bill that’s a tad too firm, if the grimace on his face is anything to go by. 

“Alright, let’s head out,” Maria says, eyes scanning a computer screen. “Radar’s got something forming about twenty miles north of here.”

“What kind of something?” You ask.

“A big something.”

Joel catches your eye and gives you a wink. 

“Let’s go get ELLIE into the air.”

The sky ahead of you is pitch black, clouds churning ominously. There’s a certain liminality when you’re driving into a storm that never ceases to amaze you, the image in the rearview mirror bright with sunlight but a foreboding darkness ahead of you. 

“You okay?” Joel asks, drawing your attention. His hand rests on your thigh, fingers tapping against your knee. “Not gettin’ cold feet, are you?”

“About this?” You nod towards the sky. “Never.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Guys? You won’t believe this,” Maria says over the radio. You grab the transmitter.

“What is it?” You ask.

“There’s two cells. Radar maxed out.” 

“They’re funneling back,” Tess adds. “This isn’t looking good.”

“You saying we can’t do it?” You ask.

The radio is quiet for a moment before Tommy says, “If anyone can, it’s you two.”

“What are we up against?” Joel asks.

“Cell one is measuring at the cusp of a three, cell two is reaching four,” Maria continues.

“Joel.” You tap his arm. “Look.”

A funnel has formed ahead of you, still teetering in the air and not quite making contact with the ground. It’s only a few miles ahead and Joel hits the brakes as he takes it in. 

“What’s the trajectory of this?” He asks.

“Northeast.”

It’s heading your way. You both scramble from the truck, climbing into the bed to prepare ELLIE — Joel removing the tethers while you turn the unity on. The wind picks up speed as you work, dust from the road whipping around you and making it difficult to see.

“Let’s get her down!” Joel shouts. He jumps to the ground and together you ease the equipment onto the ground, removing the lid tether. After what feels like ages, ELLIE is ready and you both return to the truck.

Joel turns the truck around and drives in the opposite direction of the cyclone’s path. He stops and you can hardly breath as you watch the storm tear across the landscape.

“This is it!” Tess shouts through the radio. 

You grab Joel’s hand as the funnel nears ELLIE, the wind making the unit shift and sway. You swallow nervously.

“It’s too light,” you murmur. 

“No it’s not,” Joel says confidently. 

Closer and closer the funnel moves, but ELLIE doesn’t lift from the ground. You’re biting your lip so hard that the taste of copper blooms across your tongue.

“We’ve got a shift!” Maria says. “We’ve got a shift, due north. Due north.”

“Fuck!” Joel shouts, slamming a hand on the steering wheel.

“Guess who just showed up?” Tommy adds.

Far across the field, a familiar caravan of black vehicles speeds towards the cyclone. 

“What channel are they using?” You ask. There’s a brief silence until Tess calls back, “Six. Why?”

You switch the channel. “Marlene, you have to anchor the unit.”

“I’m a little busy right now,” she calls back. “Trying to make history over here.”

“Listen to me. Unless you manage to position your unit right under a touchdown, it’s not going to get picked up. And if it doesn’t pick up, it doesn’t deploy.”

“Maybe that’s just an issue with your unit. I can assure you ABBY will succeed where ELLIE failed.”

“Goddamnit,” you snap, tossing the transmitter down. 

“Can’t fix stupid,” Joel says. He hits the gas, bringing the truck back to ELLIE. “Let’s load her back up, maybe we can catch the second cell.”

Pack loaded once more, you return to the cab. Joel is about to put the park in drive when you place a hand over his chest. 

“Do you see what I see?” You ask.

Joel watches the twister, then Marlene’s team. He grabs the radio. 

“Marlene, listen to me. That monster is going to shift and if it does, you’re in the path of destruction and that base is too wide for you to get out of there. You have to hang back now.”

“Radar isn’t showing a shift. I’m not missing this chance,” Marlene replies.

“You gotta look at the funnel action, too. Not just the radar. You’re goin’ to get yourself killed!”

“Clear this channel, Joel. I’ve got work to do.”

“Fuck!” Joel snaps. 

Sure enough, the cyclone shifts its path, a minute change with dire consequences for Marlene and her team. The twister barrels toward the caravan, vehicles lifting from the ground. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. 

“I know,” he says. His throat bobs around a pained swallow. “We did what we could.”

Joel switches the radio back to your team’s channel, a flurry of panicked voices filling the cab. Maria’s voice snaps your name.

“Do you read me? The second cell has organized, five miles east moving north along 80.”

“Copy that,” you say as Joel drives in her suggested direction. “What’s it looking like?”

“Too soon to tell but the cloud base is massive.”

Joel drives parallel to Maria’s path suggestion, racing to get ahead of the storm. The funnel begins to form, dropping down from the restless clouds. It’s one of the biggest you’ve seen, more of a column of wind than a tapered cyclone. The strength of it grows as it hits the warm air, touching down with a contact point as wide as the funnel base.

“Wind speed is measuring at an estimated 270 miles per hour. We’ve found ourselves an F5,,” Maria says. “She’s slow, but strong. Movement only measuring at ten miles per hour, still heading east.”

Joel changes direction, heading towards the storm from the back, rather than trying to get ahead of it. 

“ELLIE needs an anchor,” you remind him.

“I know,” he says, looking over at you. “I’m giving her one.”

“We’re using the truck?”

“You got a better idea?”

“No, no, go ahead. Can’t wait to explain this one to insurance.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and take the radio one more time. “We’re sending the truck up with ELLIE. If this works, get ready for the best data in history.”

“Roger that,” Tess replies. “Ready for the feed.”

Another mile ahead, Joel gets the truck speed up to fifty miles per hour before setting the cruise control. He unbuckles his seat belt and you follow suit, throwing the passenger door open and holding onto the grab handle.

“One,” Joel shouts. “Two!”

“Three!” You finish, jumping from the cab. You hit the ground hard, rolling through your landing, the air punched from your lungs. When you’ve caught your breath, you get yourself on your hands and knees, frantically searching for Joel.

He’s kneeling in the road, watching as the truck continues to barrel towards the twister. You crawl to him and he pulls you close, an arm around your waist to hold you up beside him.

“Go, go, go!” He shouts. 

The sound of brakes squealing has you looking back over your shoulder to see your team has arrived. They gather behind you, Tess snapping photos at rapid speeds, Tommy recording video, and Maria’s eyes glued to her computer. You look ahead, just in time to watch the truck disappear into the swirling mass of debris.

Everyone is silent for a long moment, waiting. Watching. Hoping.

“I’m getting a read!” Maria shouts. “She’s up! ELLIE is flying!”

“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Joel, we did it.”

“You did it, baby,” he says. 

The twister doesn’t last long. Its power wanes, the cyclone breaking up and retreating back into the sky. You have no idea where your truck has landed, but you don’t care. You and Joel stand up, your legs shaky from the rush of adrenaline. He takes your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss.

“You owe me one hundred dollars, Tommy!” Tess shouts.

Joel pulls away with a laugh. “What did I tell you about bettin’ against me?”

“Does this mean you’re back?” Maria asks.

The arm around your waist tightens, pulling you closer.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I’m back.”

[edenfenixblogs]

Reminder to people reading my blog who are astounded by the amount of hate I get:

I usually don’t even post to the #i/p tag or #israel or #palestine and when I do it’s usually only on reblogs so it’ll show up sorted on my own personal blog.

This is the amount of hate I get when I’m sticking to Jewish-focused tags.

I am unhappy.

I am not doing well.

[aviad1b]

Secular Jewish ranting post.

If the Talit in my pfp scares you - Out. Antisemites - Out.

If you see anything below this cut as a rejection of Palestinian safety, then you're reading words that aren't there, and sorry-not-sorry but: You're just straight up antisemetic. No excuses, no buts.

At this point, I think I can confirm that not a single tag on tumblr is clear of i/p posts.

and I'm not just talking about general i/p posts, not "death is bad" posts, not even pro-Palestine posts, but straight up "each and every Israeli person deserves to die" posts.

They say Zionism is a political movement, yet they say every person born in a specific place is automatically a part of that movement. That is a disguise of recism, and at this point I cannot be convinced otherwise.

They say people who fled from their homes should be protected, yet somehow it's the Mizrahim's fault that they were slaughtered and pushed away into Israel.

I hate this. I want to browse the "trans rights" tag without seeing that my family deserves to die because my grandparents ran for their lives. I want to live in a world where people don't insist that my ethnicity isn't real, because somehow I'm white despite not being considered white in any actual physical fucking place.

I want to live in a world where my very existence isn't widely considered to be the cause for enormous death, and therefore invalid.

I used to ramble about how similar Antisemitism, Transphobia and Homophobia are. I'd say that all of those share the trait of trying to object to people who exist, as if objecting will make them disappear. I'd say that people who share those beliefs simply can't handle the existence of people who are proof against their theories.

As for antisemitism, I was both wrong and right. A simple glance at how those "antizionists" view the Mizrahim tells: Only considered existant when their existance can be used as a talking point, scoring "bonus points" against Israel, then thrown away not even a sentence later becomming "white" once more.

And don't even get me started on how those people view (or rather deny) Jewish ethnicity and history as a whole. Things that are a simple single google search away.

I always knew that it would come to this, but never have imagined the scale.

This isn't where I thought I'd turn out this year.

[homochadensistm]

Unfollowing yet anouther blog (that never posted anything about i/p before) cuz they tagged a Palestine post with "zionists unfollow me" is so weird cuz I'm sure they'd think I'm a zionist but in reality I just unpolluted them because I'm not fucking stupid and know that people who say shit like that are pretty much just targeting jews.

I'm not Jewish nor one of those crazy Christians who are 'zionist' cuz they want Jesus back or whatever, so I don't really consider myself zionist, but I'm also not a antisemitic idiot that eats propaganda for breakfast (not to say I don't believe Israel deserves to exist, just that as a gentile it feels weird to call myself/ identify as that). It just boggles my mind to see people be such outright hypocrites--crying and donating to every Palestinian org they can find while not giving a shit about any other major war or humanitarian crisis, yet claim they have zero antisemitic bias.

I've seen so many people I follow who I thought were smart turn out to be dumb as shit. These people will say to get off their blog if ur a zionist and check the blogs that reblog/follow them, but don't bother to look at the blogs they get their precious pro-Palestinian posts from. Almost always if u scroll for a second, they're posting literal blood libel.

It's just so fucking gross.

ty for being intelligent anon. ur right, no sane person should expect u to be neither a zionist nor "antizionist" because as u said, ur not Jewish. I wish more ppl were as perceptive as u to antisemitism.

[bungirlcock]

hey, i'm sophie! ^.^ i might post my own stuff on occasion but this is mostly for collecting reblogs :3

24 years old

nonbinary girlboy boygirl trans dyke.

a girl in a boy kinda way and a boy in a girl kinda way

subby switch

taken and monogamous. compliments and casual flirting and sexualizing me are good and important. but im Not Interested so respect boundaries pls

communist.

free palestine.

DNI:

minors, no age in bio, p/dos (obviously), bigots, terfs, chasers, and blank profiles. you will be blocked.

no a/b/d/l blogs. i am not comfortable with that.

cis dudes can stay but you're on thin ice

yes:

oral fixation, overstim, hypno, lactation, impact play, some cnc (free use, somno, intox) and other stuff

no:

unsanitary stuff, s/ssy stuff, de/trans, in/cest, race/play, or age/play

asks/anons are open 😊

ask to tag!

insert your tip or buy me something fun 🤗

[gryficowa]

Hey guys, I came across some Trump fan in the free Palestine tags

And still, for Zionists I am an anti-Semite

But seriously, Trump fans got the tags about Palestine, what is going on here? Seriously, Trump would rather praise the killing of Palestinians (Because he was such a person, yes, I'm from Poland, but I more or less understand what this guy was doing)

Even Gumball parodied this man by commenting on who he was

Anyway, I have the impression that Trump has fucked up our world, because since 2016 we have been regressing in development

You have a P!nk song from that period

And this song, Trump made many LGBT+ children struggle with discrimination to this day (From other students, teachers and parents), do you seriously think Trump cares about Palestinians? You choose between shit and garbage (i.e. Trump or Biden)

There is no good choice here, and choosing between the lesser of two evils causes harm anyway, so why do people still want Trump or Biden? Even in my country they chose "The Lesser Evil", so what if it is better if not for everyone?

Damn it, they elected a president in my country who said "LGBT is not people, it's an ideology", which resulted in the persecution of LGBT+ people in my country

So what if this man created rap if he hurt so many people?

It's funny that I have to say this to Americans who should know better than me, because they are further advanced than my country...

(Yes, I gave a link to deviantart because it's a comment on the situation I see, because seriously, we had fucked up situations with the police who arrested them for anti-Semitism)

Right after Valbanase and Willy Wonka, this is one of the more absurd things of the year

[tendersky]

hiii, do you have sources for the whole ao3 situation? where the volunteer didnt actually get kicked out for being pro palestine?

Sure! I'm getting all my information from the "official" sources that everyone is sharing, which is this tumblr post and this Google Doc. (I believe there's a "new year" Dreamwidth post that people also reference but I haven't read it so won't reference it).

First, a direct quote from the Tumblr post: "I left because I was horrified by the org and all of the racism they promised to work on but never ever did." -> didn't get kicked out, suspended, or anything from AO3, the user (Bjorn) voluntarily left the organization.

The rest of the screenshots from the Google doc are from a Slack channel you have to opt into about I/P, which is a place you are most likely to find Zionists.

I'll break down the conversation here.

Here's the first included warning:

I'm writing to you on behalf of Tag Wrangling Chairs due to a few serious issues which have been brought to our attention.  A number of volunteers have approached us, either privately or through VolCom, to convey concerns regarding your behaviour in the #x-politics-society-current-events and #x-politics-israel-palestine-events Slack channels.

Our Code of Conduct,, which you agreed to in our most recent Still Willing to Wrangle, requires that all volunteers maintain a level of civility when interacting with one another.  Specifically, "We never lose sight of everyone's right to be treated with dignity, compassion and respect."

The language and tone that you have been using do not convey compassion or respect toward your fellow volunteers.  For example, you accused a fellow volunteer of defending murder and war crimes, and have referred to another as a "fucking asshole".

We understand that this is an emotionally charged situation, and that with so much death and destruction happening, it is easy to misdirect the anger and helplessness you might feel.  However, to the best of our ability, we need to assume that our fellow volunteers are well-intentioned and speaking in good faith, and not devolve to insults or name-calling.

Please understand that should we receive additional complaints or note that you have continued to violate the Code of Conduct in your treatment of other volunteers, we Chairs may step in and remove you from certain social Slack channels, either temporarily or permanently depending on the number and nature of the complaint(s).  We hope that this will not be necessary.

--> so, they're being warned for not following the Code of Conduct, which includes being civil to other people. Nothing is said about "from the river to the sea". Bjorn brings up "from the river to the sea" unprompted in their response:

Additionally, if me saying "from the river to the sea" is supposedly against the Code of Conduct and grounds for repeatedly removing me from the channel, when other people are allowed to deny genocide and defend war crimes on perceived technicalities with explicit defense from the org, I believe that reflects extremely poorly on the org as a whole. If this sentiment continues to be upheld by supervisors, that is extremely concerning. Especially since I was reported and warned for accusing someone of supporting genocide, but people are allowed to accuse me of the same thing with support from other people in the channel.

It looks like two days passed before staff responded to Bjorn, and we get this quote:

Okay. To be very clear. You are absolutely entitled to your opinion and to your beliefs, and we have zero issue with you expressing those opinions and beliefs in conversation so long as you do so while obeying both the letter and the spirit of the Code of Conduct.

Now, to the other side of this.  You have been removed from the room repeatedly within the past 24 hours for Code of Conduct violations as we told you might happen, and I am now going to go ahead and remove you from the room and ask that you do not return for one week while we discuss the room in general with the other chairs.

When we wrote to you two days ago, we specifically chose not to address your Slack status "Palestine will be free" with you even though several volunteers had mentioned to us that this phrase made them uncomfortable.  While the phrase did make some folks uncomfortable, it also wasn't obviously trying to be antagonistic.  We are not responsible for making sure everyone is comfortable all the time. It was an expression of your beliefs, and that wasn't an issue we felt was appropriate for us to address since it wasn't in and of itself a violation of the Code of Conduct.

So: Having your Slack status as "Palestine will be free" is not a violation of the Code of Conduct.

We go on with their response.

What is a violation of the Code of Conduct is that since we notified you that folks were having a hard time with your behaviour in that channel, the behaviour has gotten worse.  You've gotten into arguments repeatedly and called folks names; you've accused folks of defending murder. You've been abrasive and argumentative throughout your exchanges there.

Are you the only person who has done so? Clearly not. And you aren't the only person we've spoken to about this.  If it feels like you're being singled out, I'm very sorry for that, and you are correct that you are not the only one who has caused issues. However. We do not address the behavior of other volunteers with you the same way we do not address your behavior with them.

That said, when we let you know that others were uncomfortable, instead of discussing this with us or asking any questions, you gave us a dismissive "k", and instead began relentlessly posting articles to the room and occasionally leaving long tirades about your disgust for folks who do not agree with your specific point of view.  Within about an hour of our having spoken with you, you changed your status from "Palestine will be free" to "from the river to the sea Palestine will be free".  And this was after we let you know that you were making folks uncomfortable and specifically asked you to be more mindful of your language and not to lose sight of everyone's right to be treated with dignity, compassion, and respect.

Basically, 'we talked to you about the code of conduct violations, you continued to specifically provoke people with your Slack status, you know how it affects people'.

You have been involved in enough conversations over the last month about that particular phrase that you knew or should have known the impact it would have on other volunteers to see that in your status given its fraught and controversial history. You were also aware of the impact it would have to use it in the room, repeatedly.

We are a volunteer organization and the use of Slack is, at its core, a way for us to be able to communicate with each other more easily to do our work. The social aspects are absolutely a lovely bonus, but they are not the point. If you can not have civil exchanges in those spaces and respect your fellow volunteers enough to stop when they ask you to stop, we expect you to remove yourself from those spaces. Just as we expect of every single other volunteer on our committee.

So: removed from the specific channel for violating the Code of Conduct and deliberately provoking other people.

I also want to address another part of Bjorn's accusation, as seen in their response to staff here:

when other people are allowed to deny genocide and defend war crimes on perceived technicalities with explicit defense from the org

if there was any explicit defense from ao3 about this I would expect to see screenshots, which I don't see

We don't know if other people in the channel also got reprimanded from AO3, because Bjorn doesn't know.

I'd love to see a comprehensive investigation, possibly with undercover volunteers, into Ao3's zionism and racism. Unfortunately, I find this to be shoddy, sensationalist journalism. Something else that puts me off of this statement is that @end-otw-racism refused to promote/work with Bjorn on this because Bjorn refused to redact names from the screenshots in the Slack, opening up volunteers to potentially being doxxed. With the past CSAM attacks happening to AO3 volunteers, I find this extremely off-putting.

[mochablogger]

★ You seem lost, hold my hand and I'll show you the way! ★

★ Intro:

☆ Hi hi hewwo! You're talking to Mocha (full name: Mocha Cuppy) and lemme tell you what else you could call me!! (Note: try not calling me by my full name at times <3)

Cuppy

Cupster

Cupperoo

Len/Leni (Reserved for close users only)

Violet (Reserved for close users only)

Honey Cuppy (Reserved for @moonsprout-sys only)

Cupid (Reserved for @trashbins-stuff only)

Candybon (Reserved for @roastymarshy only)

Roomie + Dandelion (Reserved for @rubixisanidi0t only)

Violet Cream (Reserved for @not-bluboy only)

Any other silly nickname you could come up with! (Moots only; ask first before using!)

☆ Pronouns!!

She/they/xe <- xe/xem is most preferred!!

Heart/heartself + cupid/cupidself (Reserved for @trashbins-stuff only)

☆ I am a minor so let's be appropriate here <3

☆ I'm 🇰🇼!!!!

☆ I'm commonly known as 'the ourple goober' :3

☆ I can speak: English, Arabic, French (a little bit), Korean (a little bit) and Spanish!

☆ I study astronomy, geography and biology!! ^^

☆ I am a digital/traditional artist, animator, VA and writer! <- Silly author of 'The Traumatized Cup'

☆ I am sensitive and can get upset easily. Please don't upset me; you will NOT like the result.

☆ To make our conversation friendly and more understandable, please use tone tags! (They really help)

☆ My happy day is on 16 Feb mehehe >:]

☆ I'm a multi-fandomist and I am very ✨random✨. I am socially awkward soo yea :)

☆ 100% needs therapy 💯

☆ I am bound to disappear for a period of weeks with no explanation 😇

☆ I'm non-binary, demigirl and queerplatonic!!

☆ I play badminton and chess (woah who taught you that??)

☆ @moonsprout-sys is my platonic partner, @blairdrawzstuff is my bestie and @trashbins-stuff is my best buddy >:] I LOVE ALL OF YOUU /p <3333

☆ Dooble requests are still open but as for custom OCs they are closed because I have enough requests and once they are finished I'll resume :]

☆ I've finished 46% of the comic for @the-dreamcatchers-series 💥

☆ I know how to drive a car accurately but I don't have a license :] and btw how come I didn't crash my dad's car??? /silly

☆ I'm claustrophobic in irl (I've fainted in my bus twice) and I'm also prone to get airsick (I've never travelled on the sea before so I never got seasick tho :])

☆ I love to cook n read in my free time :3

☆ My blog is sfw and can be viewed by all ages!!

☆ I swear a little bit while venting or when I am upset I hope you don't mind 👉👈

☆ Wanna make fanart? Tag #fanartforcuppy and @ me!

★ Reference sheet for my objectsona !!

This will be updated as time goes by!!

More sillay stuff below! ⬇️

★ Fandom list

The Object Show Community (OSC)

Murder Drones

The Owl House

The Amazing Digital Circus

Solarballs

Countryballs/Polandballs

Animation Vs Animation/Minecraft

The Henry Stickmin Collection

Sonic the hedgehog

Among Us

★ DNI (Do Not Interact) list

NSFW (Not Safe For Work)

People who are neutral/against Palestine

Pedophiles, zoophiles and necrophiles

S3xual and religional themes

Porn bots/any type of bot

Racists

Homophobes and transphobes

Proshippers

Zionists

If you match with any of these things mentioned above, kindly fuck off or you will be immediately blocked.

★ Common tags

#cuppy art - artworks digital and traditional

#cuppy doobles - silly doobles that mean ABSOLUTELY nothing

#cuppy asks - asks about my well-being

#cuppy requests - request drawings

#cuppy animation - animatics and animation <- barely doing any lol

#cuppy ramblez - watch me talk like bla bla bla

#cuppy reblogz - reblogs

#roomiez lounge - used when talking with my fellow Roomie, @rubixisanidi0t!!

★ Other blogs (still in the making!)

@mochablogger - Main blog; you're currently here!

@the-dreamcatchers-series - The Dreamcatchers' Site!

*This intro is still in progress. Thanks for reading so far! You now may let go of my hand.

[ji-ang]

DRC Valentine’s Day Fest: A Rebel(CA)p(T)ain Reclist

Part II: Modern/Earthly Settings

Fics set on Earth or something that kind of resembles it.

Return to main post for other cat related rebelcaptain content! (this link is now fixed!)

In the spirit of clicking links, today and every day is a good day to click to freely donate ad revenue from this site to the UNWRA (United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East).

Recs below! 💕

Alphabetical by author! All links are to the ao3 version of the fic because that’s how and where I found them.

I've tried to do my research and identify authors' tumblrs if I'm able to tag them. If I tagged the wrong person or if you're tagged and you don't want to be, just let me know. 💕

Tethered (to The Story We Must Tell) by dancealongthelightofday (@dilf-din)

I only just discovered this one because it got uploaded to ao3 after previously only being on tumblr! Witch!Jyn gives off all sorts of spooky all knowing and cool vibes, as do her identical black cats.

The Hacker and the Veterinarian by jbn42

The title gets to the premise pretty straightforwardly! Siblings Bodhi and Jyn each adopt a cat and deal with their respective traumas (with a bit of high stakes Krennic drama thrown in as a final arc to the story). Jyn and Cassian have no chill and fall in love pretty much right away. Some lovely Dad!SpiritAssassin content.

partners in exasperation by katsumi (@leralynne)

A fun neighbors!au where neither of them are the cat owner, but the cat definitely has a major hand in facilitating their meeting and getting together. Also features a lot of great Bodhi & Jyn sibling energy and banter.

In Defense of Cat People by TinCanTelephone (@cats-and-metersticks)

An incredibly cute sickfic that features a prickly cat!Kay who eventually comes around to the idea that Jyn is tolerable.

F. I. N. E. by TinCanTelephone

Angsty Cassian adopts cat!Kay to try and cope with feeling lonely when he returns from an extended trip to find coworker Jyn is in a relationship. Some great Bodhi & Cassian friendship moments!

let the cat out of the bag by wintersend (@andorerso)

Jyn’s cat Mimi (whose personality is as fiery as Jyn’s) develops a strong relationship with FWB!Cassian, which pokes at Jyn’s commitment issues. Excellent romcom vibes.

There's also a tumblr tag that the author has with related content!

Back to main post (this link is now fixed!)