Latest Posts by m0th-b0nes - Page 9

ethel cain, strangers / bones and all, 2022 - dir. luca guadagnino

the end of 'bones and all' if they played strangers by ethel cain

ethel cain could’ve written the book of revelation but god couldn’t have produced family tree

now ms cain,,,,,,

After getting over the initial shock and heartbreak of this tweet and this reply, it hit me that (and I don't know if this is a cultural thing here in the middle east or an Islamic one)

A child has to be named even if they're stillborn.

For a child to not be named, that means there's no one left to name them. They were killed along with their entire family.

I hoped I was wrong, but I checked the list of victims of Israeli attacks and found this:

Israel has ended 47 Palestinian bloodlines over the course of this genocide (or perhaps more), so you might think that this little detail isn't that important, but I don't think we should get used to cruelty of this proportion, no matter how consistently Israel commits it.

The number of victims isn't just a number. These are people with full lives and hopes and dreams.

It's enough of a disaster that these families were wiped out, but in murdering them, Israel didn't just deprive them of their lives, hopes, and dreams. It deprived them of even the dignity to name their children.

It continues to deprive the remaining Palestinians of their most basic human rights.

What did the Palestinians do to not deserve food or water or electricity?

What did their *newborns* do to not deserve lives or at the very least names?!

This is the most harrowing form of terrorism I can think of. The genocidal Israeli occupation is the most despicable terrorist organization the world has had the displeasure of knowing.

The whole world should be deeply ashamed that it's not only allowing such heinous war crimes to be committed, but in a lot of ways, it's enabling them.

I don't know how anyone can be neutral about this.

Stand with Palestine, stand against the occupation. Against genocide.

ربنا يتقبل الأطفال دول و أمهاتهم و عائلاتهم اللي الاحتلال قتلهم معاهم شهداء، و ينتقم من إسرائيل و أي حد بيمكّنهم أشد انتقام في الدنيا قبل الآخرة.

i do not pity israel. never have, and never will.

each night that gaza experiences is deadlier than the last, as idf soldiers record propaganda tiktoks, make rave parties and grwms and fit checks, gloat over having food and water, and film themselves deriving sadistic pleasure from torturing their hostages and victims and desecrating the dead.

Palestinians have to display their martyred before the camera for you to believe the atrocities that the zionist entity has subjected them to. they cannot even mourn in private. the apartheid entity murders them in cold blood, and you deliver the killing blow by doubting them.

babies whose families have been killed will never get to know their own name.

i can't reshare a tenth of the videos and photos that cross my timeline. i have seen more dead children in the past month than i have known death my entire life.

israeli settlers burn olive trees, bomb bakeries and fishing boats, shower white phosphorus and earthquake bombs on the captive civilians of gaza. you already know about the disastrous effects of white phosphorus, but earthquake bombs were last used during ww2 to wipe out entire cities.

how holy is the land that seeks to be built over the mass graves of thousands of children? is it holier than the miracle of a child being born in this hypocritical world?

all 11 universities in gaza have been bombed. academics should be agitating right now, especially those who call themselves "decolonial thinkers." destruction of universities is a sinisterly deliberate act to sabotage the Palestinians who will survive this great catastrophe.

the act of cleansing your hands before prayer is extremely important to muslims. no part of us can remotely comprehend the grief of the mother who refused to wash her hands from the blood of her children after losing them in a zionist airstrike over gaza. "I swear I won't wash them, I won't wash my hands, how else am I supposed to sleep near my kids."

it is only both moral and right when one side defends itself. the other side are the price of war, no better than insects and cattle and sheep left to die within the four walls of the slaughterhouse.

this situation should not be up for debate, but let me finish with one final thing : do your research about Palestine. HOWEVER. you do not need a degree in middle east studies to object to an ongoing genocide. if someone outwits you in a debate about historical details and every nuance of a subject, you were and will remain entirely correct in objecting to a genocide.

may those martyred rest in peace and be reunited again with their loved ones in heaven's eternal vastness.

DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE.

glory to Palestinian resistance. from the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

there’s something so insane about people who used to love putting “free Palestine” in their bio now deciding they have pearls in need of clutching. how did you think Palestine was going to be freed? did you think that if we all wrote “free Palestine” in our blog titles the world would just say oh you know what, our bad? did you think if Palestinians protested really, really peacefully, that Netanyahu would be moved? did you think that essays about decolonization published in the neoliberal academy would do the trick?

or did you simply expect Palestinians to wait? to wait and watch every day as their loved ones are killed because they step out of line? as the journalists and medics are shot around them? as Israel commits war crimes against them and the world does nothing? raining white phosphorous down on an open-air prison where the exits are controlled, closed, bombed out? as the Sabra and Shatila massacres are forgotten and repeated and forgotten and repeated and forgotten and repeated in an endless cycle?

when you wrote “free Palestine” in your bio, what did you think it meant?

@eid_yara

I think this is the 3rd time they've killed the commander of the anti tank operations, a real position that definitely exists

"a fatherless son with a brother of death,

a mother of night and with which comes rest,

heroes lay weapons for lack of souls to reap,

for here lies the tomb of eternal sleep.”

"At least it's saying to lay down our weapons," Leo offered optimistically. "So we're still fighting off the sleep..." he yawned—twice. "The sleep magic...which is good because I...I don't have any weapons training anyways..."

"Great," Nico supplied sarcastically. "I look forward to dying next to the worst morning person I've ever met."

"I usually save my dying in a dark, creepy temple for the third date!" Leo called without thinking, but Nico was already marching forward without a moment more of hesitation, disappearing into the darkness.

Chapter 11 of Ceaseless Eve is out now !!

Alright let's imagine a scene that is all too normal in palestine. A palestinian business owner finds his building covered in graffiti stars of Davids and Hebrew that says "gas the arabs" and "death to arabs"

Now imagine there's a reporter there and asks the palestinian business owner what happens and they say "the jews attacked my business"

Pause. Now your response might be "uncle no. Say israelis not jews" and then this is when he would look at you like youre stupid because the israelis doing this are jewish. They are not the Christians or the druze or the palestinian ones with Israeli citizenship. They are Jewish israelis who believe in their religious supremacy. When you graffiti stars of david all over a palestinian business, car, or the street you seek that conflation. it sends a message, this is jewish land and you're next.

The problem is that these videos circulate in zionist circles. "Watch this video of children in gaza calling for the death of jews" "watch how they say they want to fight and kill jews" those children are referring to Israeli soldiers that come in night and do their raids with the star of David attached to their uniform or the ones that bomb them. It's easy to watch those videos and assume that palestinians are indoctrinating their children on anti semitism or you can realize that those children's only interaction with jewish ppl is through violence and parents cannot protect their children from this. Doesn't matter context is lost

Abby Martin went to Jerusalem and interviewed israelis for 2 hours and she says every israeli was extremely confident to say that this land is for them and that they should push the Arabs out and when she interviewed palestinians they spoke of freedom from occupation and their dreams. That's reality. Not the soundbites.

And yet we have invasive youtubers and interviewers constantly in the street of ramallah or wherever in palestine asking palestinians "do you hate jews?" And in those videos you hear those palestinians say "no we have no problem with jews we have a problem with occupation and we have a problem with zionism." Bc this is how we are trained to respond to this trope. Palestinians are very aware what the world thinks of us and the reality is that many palestinians have internalized it and we grow up reading books on the Holocaust and train ourselves to recognize anti semitic dog whistles so zionists don't get the soundbites they want.

So we say "anti zionism is not anti semitism" and we say "israeli zionists" and we do not say "jewish supremacy" even thought it exists in palestine but "zionist supremacy" and in these carefully worded speech we water down what is happening to us in an effort to not deter people away from solidarity. But it means nothing. The world categorically blames palestinians for rising anti semitism they blame us for jewish insecurity globally.

He's telling the kids: "A rocket is coming cover your ears." Then he tells them to remove their fingers once it's gone. At the end of the video, since the girl is wearing Messi Argentina jersey, he jokes with her saying: "They don't appreciate you anymore messi, they don't respect you anymore" to make her smile.

This is a famous influencer from gaza: Ahmed alhenawi. He came to gaza for his wedding which was a week before the genocide. The little girl here is his sister in law, and the little boy is their cousin who's staying with them since his mother was killed by Israeli bombardment.

This is the same girl who said: I wish I could just get killed right now, because I'm so exhausted. You know what's good though? They postponed examinations!

These people need you, never stop talking about Palestine. Speak up. If they find it in themselves to smile and joke during this and not fall into despair so can you. STOP THE GENOCIDE.

For those who don't understand the kid is screaming: "I'm here dad! Come here!" His father comes and asks him: "where is your mother?" The kid cries: "she died, she died."

Then the child explains that his foot is injured and his father tries to comfort him.

This is evil. The child literally met his dad at the hospital by accident, he watched his mom die and had to break the news to his father. What kind of power will save these children from this trauma? I know children in gaza are so strong and resilient, but children are children regardless.

Use your voice to end this genocide. Enough, CEASEFIRE NOW!

I'm reading again about the early days of the 1948 Nakba, and I'm just... at loss for words (cw: rape, child murder)

The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine, by Ilan Pappé (2006, p. 90)

And, continuing on p. 91:

How bout that hoffman? How about THEM apples?

12k what the fuck was that post

Palestinian journalist plays with a little baby boy who survived an lsraeli airstrike, Gaza.

“Our revenge will be the laughter of our children.”

- Bobby Sands MP

(they removed the video so here it is again)

i think this is peak internet

“stars as you know them” — ghostsoap

731 words

WARNING: non-descriptive mentions of blood, and a bullet wound! dying??

“I’m Your Man” - Mitski

“Soap, do you copy?”

The sky is beautiful tonight. Can’t remember the last time he’d bothered to just look up, just to admire. Just to enjoy.

He didn’t know much about the stars, but he could find the dipper if he stared long enough. Easy enough to find the one that actually looks like a spoon.

He tries.

It’s getting harder to focus.

“Johnny, report!”

The voice in his ear is loud, and somewhere in the back of his head Soap knows he should respond. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to— but his tongue feels so heavy in his mouth, clumsy. The words just don’t want to form, mouth opening and closing around sounds and syllables that don’t actually make it past his lips. He feels like a fish on land.

Maybe it’s getting harder to breathe.

Tastes like copper, for sure.

He can feel his heartbeat like a drum.

Thump, Thump, Thump. Against his chest, again and again.

If someone were to find him, would they be able to hear it just as loud?

The world is strangely quiet now, and he thinks; finally, a break. His eyelids threaten to close, and he so badly wants to sleep. He deserves to sleep, after all this time. It isn’t so selfish, is it?

“Johnny— Johnny, you have— … talk to me … — are you?”

I want to. He says, but doesn’t really say at all. I want to, can’t you see I’m trying my best?

He can’t lift his hand to check, but he feels the warm sticky texture of blood between his fingertips. Coating his palm where it weakly holds against the wound in his stomach.

He can’t remember how it happened, now. Like it was so long ago, just a distant irrelevant memory to hold onto. Too much work now for his brain, for his body.

His fingers feel numb.

He gurgles out a strange, sort of laugh, at the thought. They don’t quite feel like anything, then, do they?

“Sorry.” Is all he manages to get out, tongue stumbling over the singular word. He isn’t quite sure if it came out at all. “M’sorr—“ the clumsy word is cut short by a sharp gasp, and a shaky exhale. “Sorry.”

He’s met with silence, which only further convinces him that the words he’s hearing coming out of his mouth aren’t really at all.

“Don’t apologize, don’t— don’t do that, Johnny.” Comes the harsh response.

Soap feels his lips form some sort of smile.

“You’re gonna be …” Soap doesn’t hear the next part, thinks maybe he’s missed it. Ghost starts again, “Fine. You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna find you, we are. We’re gonna find you, and get you help, and you’re gonna be fine.”

Sounds an awful lot like Ghost is trying to convince himself, rather than Soap.

He thinks he hears other voices, a back and forth conversation, it’s muted. Somewhere in the background. It takes him a moment to realize that they’re coming from Ghost’s end of the comm, not him. Not him. No one else is here but him.

He had never thought dying would feel so lonely. Always thought it would come to him fast, that he would be one of the lucky ones that didn’t see it coming before it struck.

Never thought it would be so slow.

“We have you now. We have you, Johnny. Now you’re gonna wait— you’re gonna keep your eyes open.”

Quietly, Soap thinks this might be the kindest voice Ghost has ever directed at him. Soothing. Thinks that maybe he can keep his eyes open after all, if that’s what’s wanted of him.

There are so many things he’s wanted to say.

Always thought he might have had a little more time to say them all, or maybe just some. Never thought he wouldn’t get the chance. What a silly thought to have, in their line of work. Soap should have known better than that.

“Gh—“ his voice cracks on a gasp once again.

“We’re so close, Johnny.”

I love you.

I love you, I love you.

You have to know that.

He should respond, he should. Sleep is creeping up on him, now. Too fast. The sky seems so full of stars now, there hadn’t been that many before.

He can’t find the dipper anymore.

Can’t remember if it was ever there at all.

“Johnny?”

He thinks it’s a nice way to go, hearing the sound of his name of Ghost’s tongue one last time.

The world finally falls quiet.

Stay Quiet (Gaz/Price)

Day 3 of Gaz Week. NSFW part now with the prompt Stuck In A Small Space! More PriceGaz

Warnings: Hand Jobs, smut, Gaz calls Price "Captain" during sex

Word Count: 2k

"Stay quiet."

"I am quiet!" Gaz snapped under his breath, frustration growing. He was pressed back against a shelf, the harsh wood digging into his back. He couldn't move forward, because that's where Price was.

It was meant to be a simple mission, just a simple mission to retrieve intel from a small Ultranationalist hideout. He and Price were the only ones sent in. There wasn't meant to be any fighting and, even if there way, it was just a small hideout anyways...right?

Except that it wasn't. Both he and Price knew that their intel had been off the moment that they got to the hideout. The place was huge and certainly not something that Gaz would call a "small hideout." It had left him and Price to wonder if they'd been purposefully mislead, or if their informant Yuri genuinely thought that this was a "small hideout." Gaz wasn't sure which would  be the better option.

They had a decision to make though. Did they want to continue on by themselves or retreat and come back with the entire team for a better chance if they were caught? It was a hard choice to make and, ultimately, the decision fell on Price. They decided to continue forward with the plan.

It was only the two of them, so they moved as slowly as they possibly could through the area. It was a matter of stealth and trust. They both had to be quiet, quick when need be, and slow when need be. But that also had to trust the other. They had to trust that the other was giving them correct call outs, that they could stay quiet and not get them caught. Gaz trusted Price and Price trusted him.

All had been going perfectly well until they'd reached the computer room where they were meant to plug into the system and allow Laswell access. It was a simple thing, just a thumb drive then five minutes of protecting it while Laswell's software scraped the computer for anything important.

Of course it couldn't be an easy five minutes for them and, during the last minute, they received word from Laswell that someone had caught on to her scraping and that a group of ultranationalist soldiers were headed their way.

They managed to hold out for the last minute of the clock, but by the time Gaz yanked the thumb drive out of the computer, they could hear the soldier faster approaching them and they didn't have anywhere to go.

Price had acted quickly, grabbing Gaz's hand and dragging him over to a small compute closet in the room. The threw the door open and shoved Gaz inside before squeezing himself in after. He'd given quick and quiet word to Laswell that they were going dark before flipping off his communications and reaching over to do the same for Gaz.

So now they were here, crammed in a tiny computer closet together, trying to wait out the men that they could hear so clearly on the other side of the door.

It was difficult to keep quiet, especially with Price so close to him. The man was pressed right against his body and, due to the lack of space, one of his thighs was pressed firmly between Gaz's legs, brushing against his cock with any move from the other man. It was overwhelming and Gaz was trying his hardest not to focus on it. The last thing he wanted or needed was to get hard from this.

Of course, that wasn't exactly something he could stop from happening. Especially when Price was jolting forward to press his ear up against the door. The movement caused his thigh to push forward, grinding against Gaz's cock and pulling a short gasp from his lips. It felt too fucking good and he needed to get a hold of himself.

"You good, Gaz?" Price asked him carefully, turning to peer at his face through the darkness of the closet. Gaz was grateful for the darkness as it meant that Price, hopefully, couldn't see the flush of his skin or the way that he was practically panting through slightly parted lips.

He nodded his head rapidly, "Perfectly fine, Captain." He winced a bit at how high his voice sounded to his own ears. Price seemed to pick up on his sudden change in tone.

Price leaned toward him, concern clear on his face even through the darkness. The move caused his leg to grind against Gaz once again and a squeaked-out moan escaped his lips at the feeling, freezing Price in place. There was a long moment of silence and Gaz wanted to throw himself into the sun. He'd just fucking moaned in his Captain's face and now he was sure he was going to be in trouble for not controlling himself better.

After a long second of pause, Price moved, shifting his leg forward again to grind against Gaz's quickly filling cock. "Sir," Gaz managed to choke out, his own desperation filling his words, "Wait, don't- oh god." His head tilted back against the shelf as Price moved his leg against him again. Surely his Captain understood what was happening by now? But surely his captain wasn't doing it on purpose.

Price hummed and brought a finger up to his mouth, motioning for Gaz to stay quiet. They were still on a mission. His leg bounced up again and Gaz jerked forward, grabbing tight to Price and using the man's vest to muffle his moans. Price didn't stop moving his leg, he just kept bouncing it in steady movements, grinding it slowly against Gaz's clothed cock.

It wasn't long until Gaz was a panting and whining mess against him, gripping tight to his vest for some sort of support as his hips jerked down to meet Price's leg. His skin felt hot and the air in the little closet was stifling to him as pleasure started to build in him slowly, creating a low buzz under his skin.

"Price," He pressed closer to the man, desperate for more. Desperate for anything that the man would give to him. A hand landed roughly on his chin and, with a tight grip, Price pulled him forward to slam their mouths together.

"Stay quiet," Price growled against him, still working his leg over him in slow massaging movements. Gaz whimpered at the words, but the sound was muffled by Price's lips slamming back against his mouth.

Gaz wasn't exactly sure what was happening and part of him wondered if he was dreaming. Perhaps there wasn't enough air in the room and his mind was providing him a fantasy for comfort as he slowly suffocated. Or maybe there was some sort of gas slowly seeping into the room, making his mind hazy.

Either way, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Gaz felt good. So fucking good. The steady pressure against his cock was delicious and the feel of Price's hands moving down his body, squeezing and groping as they went...it was almost too much for his hazy mind to handle. If this was a dream, he didn't think that he wanted to wake up.

Eventually, Price's hands found their way to the front of his pants and, with a quick flick of his thumb and twist of his wrist, Gaz's pants were undone and a hand was roughly shoving its way past the waistband of his pants and underwear.

Price pulled away from Gaz's mouth and encouraged him to bury his face into his shoulder with a hand on the back of his head. "You have to stay quiet for me, okay? Think you can do that?"

"Yes," Gaz whined at the feeling of Price's hand wrapping around his cock.

"Sorry," Price gave a few torturous slow strokes of his hand, "Yes what?"

His hand tightened and the slow strokes were replaced with fasts jerks of his wrist that had Gaz's legs going weak and his mouth latching on to Price's shoulder to disguise his whines. "Yes! Yes, Captain!" He managed to get out finally, "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, please- oh god!" He muttered curses into Price's shoulder, trying to keep himself quiet.

Price gave a low chuckle, still stroking over his cock at a quick speed, hurtling him quickly toward his end. "So good for me, Kyle, so fucking good. You like this? Like my hand on your cock?"

Gaz gave a whimper before nodding his head, "Yes, yes Captain, love it. Oh- please, sir!" His hips started moving, meeting Price's hand with every move.

"Do you," Price pressed a kiss to his cheek before slowly moving lower, littering every piece of skin with nips and kisses, "know how long I've wanted to do this?" Gaz shook his head wildly, trying to take in deep breaths as his might grew hazy and his air grew sparse with the never-ending moans and pleas. "I've wanted you since the very beginning, you're just too fucking tempting. I managed to hold out, but this? You grinding against my leg like a dog in heat? I can only handle so much."

"You," Gaz gasped as Price ran his thumb over the head of his cock, stroking along his slit for a moment before continuing his quick jerking movements, "oh god- you should have said something. Could have fucked me sooner."

Those words pulled a low growl from Price and soon Gaz found a hand shoved under his shirt and vest to tweak at his nipples, sending his hips jolting forward with a desperate whine.

"You just wait," Price growled low in his ear, "as soon as I get you alone," he kissed his neck, "and into a proper bed? You won't be able to walk properly when I finish with you."

Price continued muttering filthy words into his ear as his hand stroked along his cock. It was quick and filthy and Gaz was fighting down every part of him that just wanted to moan out the man's name and let everyone in the nearby vicinity know how well his Captain was treating him.

"Fuck, Captain," he muttered after a long moment, his voice high and his hips stuttering in the other man's hand. Price seemed to understand what the words meant, even if he didn't say them.

"Gonna come? Gonna finish in my hand like a good boy?" Gaz nodded his head rapidly, gasping as the pleasure in him built higher and higher until he was right on that edge. "Go on then, come for your captain."

And just like that Gaz was spilling into Price's hand, his eyes rolling back as Price worked him through it, running his fist over his cock in ever-slowing strokes. The pleasure of it all was enough to have Gaz's knees weak and, later, he would come to the conclusion that the only reason he hadn't fallen was because of Price's body pressed against his own.

When he managed to slowly pull away from Price's shoulder, confident that he'd no longer make any noises, he met the older man's eyes. "Alright?" Price asked carefully, watching his face for any sign of discomfort.

"I'm good, Captain," Gaz answered him quietly, still mindful of the possible men outside of the room. He waited until Price had pulled his hands out of his pants and started to redo them for him before speaking again, "How much longer do you think we'll have to wait?"

Price gave a low hum, his lips quirking up as he did, "As long as you think it will take you to recover. The men outside left around the time that we started."

Gaz blinked wide at him, a flush slowly going over his face. "So you- we-?"

Price chuckled at his reaction, "Sorry, I just couldn't help myself." he leaned forward to press a kiss to Gaz's cheek and whisper in his ear, "Being this fucking close to you, I don't know how anyone would be able to keep themselves from it."

Gaz was fairly certain that he was still blushing bright red by the time they made it back to the base.