#unlike a baptist

[chaotext]

UNLIKE A BAPTIST- THIS IS NOT A DRILL

https://on.soundcloud.com/Ag1Cf

[theinfinitedivides]

'you quit drinking?' 'yep.' 'you quit drinking.' 'sure did.' 'you quit drinking. how do you know about this place, then?' 'i rent a condo upstairs.' 'you rent a condo above a bar?' 'that's right.' 'well, that's very… Catholic.'

[mossfvcker]

i know this is a tad unhinged but i think the westboro baptist church changed slightly left leaning Catholic peoples minds to be pro gay simply because the wbc had the sign "god hates fags" and priests had to then argue that God Doesnt Hate Fags, God Hates Nobody (with a bunch of explanations about how gay behavior is sinful etc etc) and the few reasonable and loving people listening went: "oh, well god would never hate anyone AND these WBC people are taking our gods name in vain so we're going to be double mad at THEM. PRO GAY!" and then proceeded to think and act as if they were accepting of gays (if the gays didnt act on being gay of course, that's still a sin.)

[mourning-again-in-america]

Ronald Reagan: Not A Theologian!

[queerpyracy]

i'm building so much hyperspecific liz lore i've even decided when her birthday is

[my-extremely-geeky-corner]

Hi @neil-gaiman it's unlikely you will see and read this, but I wanted to try anyway. Bear with me, this might be a bit long but it's extremely important for me.

In 2021, Andrea, one of my best friends passed away. Some time before she did, she bought me this beautiful hard cover edition of Death's comics you wrote.

I'm not much into comics, I admit,but she bought it for me because she loved them and thought I would as well

I slowly started to read them, and got a bit lost as I'd never read Sandman before either. But what I read, I enjoyed. I liked how different Death was described in it.

After she passed away I couldn't make myself continue reading it for a long time. And then, last year, the Sandman tv series was launched

So I decided to watch it, maybe learn more about the universe and go back to finish the comics after.

But when I saw Death... All I could think about was Andrea. Death's character was beautiful. The way you envisioned death and translated into your work really moved me. And it helped me a great deal with dealing with my friend's passing. And I want to thank you for that.

Last year on Brazil's comic con (CCXP) I got the chance to briefly see the amazing Kirby Howell-Baptiste who kindly signed my book for me from the stage.That meant a great deal to me.I hope to, one day,also get a chance to meet you and have this same book signed by you. Thank you

[tomicscomics]

12/08/2023

On your Mark...

JOKE-OGRAPHY: 1. The Gospel of Mark begins by talking about John the Baptist.  In a few quick verses, Mark says John was a desert-dweller who came to baptize people in preparation for the Messiah's ministry.  Mark also argues that John's coming was prophesied by Isaiah, who said there would come a voice crying out in the desert, a messenger sent ahead of the Lord, making straight His paths.  Some of John's followers assumed that John himself was the Messiah, but John told them, "One mightier than I is coming after me.  I am not worthy to loosen His sandals.  I baptize you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit." 2. In this cartoon, the key verses about "going ahead of the Lord" and "making straight His paths" and "one mightier than I is coming" have been torn from their sacred context and crudely slapped into the new and exciting context of Jesus and John playing Tag as kids. 3. Jesus muses that John always runs in a straight line, making it easy to follow him, and quotes Isaiah as Mark did.  However, unlike Mark's quote, which implied John was preparing his followers for Jesus, Jesus's quote simply implies John is bad at Tag-tics -- that is, the tactics of Tag -- and has erred gravely in accepting Christ's challenge. 4. At the end, John screams in panic.  In Mark's Gospel, he says, "One mightier than I is coming after me," because he knows the true Messiah, Jesus, will be joining public ministry shortly, and he wants people to anticipate His coming.  In this cartoon, John says, "One mightier than I is coming after me," because his little Cousin has come after him with a speed that far exceeds his own, and when John is terrified, he screams like a maniac.

[wisteriaiswriting]

𝕊𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

Type of date | Location | Are they romantic? | How much money will they spend | What happens after | Blurb

Words: 1692

She would prefer simple and calmer dates, especially if it’s something physical. Including paintings, baking or even just being together.

Her favourite location are cafes, likely a regular at a smaller and cozy one tucked away. So she’ll bring you along.

If you ranked her out of 10, she would be a 9. She’s memorized your drink order, so she’ll order ahead, paying before you could think about it. If you’re in range she’ll quickly lean over to leave a kiss.

She will spend a lot of money, (more than a normal cafe date) but there will be a limit. Unlikely you’ll hit it though because she saves more than enough money.

Whether you go home or to hers, she’ll be with you the whole way. If you go home she’ll leave you with a final kiss before walking away. The other way around has her occupied, (willingly for you) grabbing you a drink and some snacks.

***

The cafe was closed off from the main road, leaving it popular enough to survive but never be uncomfortably crowded. Making her a lot easier to spot, in her normal seat near the back. Two drinks sat on the table, one was a simple tea while the other was a [favourite drink].

“Y/N, sit!" While you did she rummaged around in, what you could assume was her bag. Soon plastic was heard, getting louder as she pulled it out.

Placing it onto the table, slightly muffled as some cloth was wrapped around it.

“I’ve been perfecting my recipe for you, though there wasn’t much change.”

Grabbing the knot on top to pick it up. Leaning over to lay her hand palm up, letting you place your own in hers. She flipped it over before pulling it closer, acting like she’ll drop the bag, instead leaving a kiss on it. Placing the bag in it after.

He likes a relaxing date. Using that time to either get to know you, or to have fun and enjoy each other's company.

His favourite places are vacation like, whether its pools, resorts or even beaches. Willing to fly you both anywhere that offers the best.

Real romantic man, but tends to be a lot more suave instead. Any attempt of romance can and has been ruined by this, not so ruined either.

From working at Talon as a mercenary and now Overwatch, money isn’t a problem and should never be. He will encourage you to spend as much as possible, giving you the card to run off with.

Once you return you’ll need a relaxing night at home, it's a lot more relaxing but both were well. He’ll let you choose the movie and get comfortable while he grabs the snacks.

***

You had awoken to an empty bed, Jean had left a note in his place. In short he was at the beach, wanting to watch the sunrise, likely having lost track of time. And you were right, his chair stuck out like a sore thumb, while he laid on it. When you got closer you saw how relaxed he was, finding out why.

Pulling his glasses off to see he was asleep. Another sign was the drink that split across his chest, dripping onto the chair and surrounding sand, staining it red.

“Jean, Baptiste…” Letting your voice wake him, while your hands landed on his shoulders, fully waking him. Sitting up just to feel off, looking down to see the mess.

“Wha… Come on!” Slowly he packed up before following you back to the resort, ready to clean up and sleep in bed. Out of the sun.

She really enjoys being more hands on in her life, so it’s no surprise when she pulls you to group pottery or painting.

Likes workshops, could be her own or for dates. Also the arcade, with something to do constantly she’s happy.

She tries, really. But she’s just not romantic material, although she makes up for it in attention and gift. Slowly getting better.

She has saved a decent amount but the moment you mention wanting something she is draining the account for you.

Afterwards you’ll sit together with some snacks and watch movies / shows.

***

While looking for places for your first date with Brigitte she came across one you’d both enjoy, pottery. It’s hands on and something to keep.

“You’ll love it, c’mon!” She was pulling you along, your date had rolled around quicker than you realized. The walk wasn’t far, especially when she was practically running.

The outside didn’t seem like much but when you entered it changed, it was a small art studio. One you’ve been looking at, turns out she’s booked you both for their pottery class.

“C’mon then, let's start!”

With her newfound powers she heats up a lot more, so ice-skating is a way to cool down. Enjoying the sensation and spending time with you.

Also enjoys spending time at home or base, able to stay comfortable and away from others.

She tries, she really does but the fact you’re her first relationship. She has no clue what she’s doing.

Due to just starting at Overwatch she doesn’t have a lot, she’ll try to save but accidentally spends it all.

Just wants to spend more, uninterrupted time with you. One way to do that is too cuddle.

***

“I’m… not sure about this.” Even if she didn’t show it her voice betrayed her, full of hesitation. To be far she’s never gone ice skating, nothing even close.

“You’ll be fine, just hold onto me.” Holding your arms out for her to hold, which she gratefully took. Shaking heavily once she was on the rink, unstable on the thin blades.

She let you pull her around slowly. Slowly gaining her confidence by pushing forwards on her own, although never leaving your arms. After this continued you finally let her go and skated just out of reach.

This allowed her to try on her own. Except that only ended with her falling on the rink, staying down until you pulled her up. Luckily no one else was around.

Already enjoys taking nature trails so if you join her she’ll be over the moon.

Just anywhere out in nature, whether it’s hidden and more wild or simple like a park.

Even with no past relationships and minimal flirting here and there she is oddly romantic, obviously with a hint of awkwardness.

Due to being outdoors there’s no need to spend any or much money, but will pay for most of your items.

Likely you’ll both be tired after that, so she’ll want the rest of the night spent on the couch cuddling until you wake the next day.

***

The bag sounded heavy, which was weird since it was almost empty when you left. But neither of you cared after the day you just did. Spending hours in the nearest forest covering their trails.

Having just returned, Kiriko was tired, dropping onto the couch without a second thought. You intended to go past her but she had a different idea, dragging you down onto the couch with her.

“Kiri, we gotta go clean up…”

“Nah.” With that she pulled you closer before shoving her face into your neck and tightening her grip.

This guy has the biggest sweet tooth to exist, so it’s not surprising when he takes you to a bakery or cafe.

Is also an enjoyer of picnics in kinda cute areas, parks or even flower meadows.

He’s real romantic without even trying, but that doesn’t stop him from becoming flustered.

Due to his time at Viskar and now overwatch he has a lot just sitting around, and is willing to spend it all on you.

Enjoys a nice, simple walk at night before taking you home.

***

As you walked your hands became cold, but never became too uncomfortable. This time he reached for yours to encase them in his own. While his other was busy carrying the now empty basket.

“Don’t stray too far now,” Using his grip on you to pull you closer. And before you knew it your house came into view, he had taken you back home.

“I hope we can do this again, yes?” Turning your hand over to place a gentle kiss onto the back of it. “Don’t want you to forget about this night.”

Letting go of your hand and turning it out just to reveal a flower, one of your favorites made out of bio-light. He pushed it into your hands before stepping back.

“Call me will you?”

He’ll drag you along to a skating rink whether or not you’ve done it before.

Willing to spend hours at the rink, skating, grabbing food and enjoying the games.

He’s a giggly romantic type. No matter how romantic he is (which is plenty) it’ll always be interrupted by him giggling.

This one has money to burn, and is willing to let you use it all or as much as you can/ Will even give you some more after.

He reveals after about a playlist he made during the date. It was about and for you, he seems like a little kid in a candy store letting you see it.

***

“C’mon,” Lucio had a tight grip on your hands, letting you do that same to his own. He was currently trying to get you onto the rink. “You’ll love it!” He almost whined.

“As much as you? I’m good.”

“I’m not that bad!” You only looked at him, this guy wore skates into battle. And somehow isn’t that bad? No way.

“But I’m here to help you!” This time he tugged you closer, which had you step into the rink, almost hitting him. “See, you’re not too bad.”

His face was covered in a grin, seemingly happy you’re finally on the rink with him.

“Now, let me teach you!”

Her first thought is to bring you to a semi-fancy restaurant, with a buffet style.

It's one she visits the most, being close and easy but one she also really enjoys.

She really tries but is only successful due to the fact you like her. She’s had no time for any type of romance due to work, but she’s trying.

For being a medic at Overwatch she has gained a lot of money that doesn’t get used, although she does place a limit on a few hundred.

After she likes to make sure you’re safe by walking you home / your room, not leaving until you’re inside.

***

“I hope you enjoyed tonight, I know I did.” As she spoke her hand grasped yours, in turn pulling you closer. The streets were almost empty, which was no surprise considering how late it was.

“I did,” The conversation was cut short as you reached home. Stepping closer before unlocking the door, but not entering yet. “And I wait for our next time Angela~”

Moira is a busy woman, so it’s likely you’ll be staying in her lab or at least around the Talon base.

Her go to are pubs or restaurants, always in a private area though. Sometimes heading into a cafe for something small and sweet.

Is surprising… romantic? If you can say that, it’s borderline flirting. You’re not sure where she learned this but it’s working all right.

She has plenty of money that she doesn’t use, so to make up for lack of time together she’ll let you have a day or so out on the town.

Sadly nothing much happens afterwards, she’ll continue working but gives you the privilege of staying in her lab.

***

The day was long, but luckily for you it was over. For Moira it wasn’t even close to finished, even though she’s been in here since sunrise.

“Moiraaa~” Your whining caught her attention once again, she wanted to scold you but knew she couldn’t. You were spending your free time with her instead of leaving at the first chance you had.

And now the sun had set, you made yourself comfortable, finding a blanket somehow in her lab. Settling on a chair as you watched her continue. The warmth and her repetitive movements slowly lulled you to sleep.

Quickly she noticed a lack of shuffling and whining, turning around to see why. You had fallen asleep, here, in her lab. Something in her felt weird, something she’s never felt before.

Trying to ignore it, she stepped away from the bench and towards your now sleeping body, watching you for a few more seconds before leaning over. Leaving a quick kiss before stepping back and away.

[lulu2992]

“My New Father”

It seems this note is often attributed to John Seed:

It could be because, on the Far Cry Wiki, the document is described as “John's feelings towards Joseph”. Sadly, as we know, the Wiki is far from reliable, and nothing proves the Baptist did write this.

In my opinion, he didn’t, and here’s why.

First, John signed all the other notes he wrote:

If he had written “My New Father”, I imagine he would have signed it too. And if he hadn’t, I believe that his name would still have been mentioned somewhere, for example in the title, like “Jacob’s Manifesto” (which isn’t signed), just to make it clear to players who the author of the note is. In “My New Father”, Joseph is also only referred to as a “Father” and never as a brother, which I think is strange.

Then, this is where the document can be found in John’s Gate:

This is Silo A, Floor -04, in the A3 dormitory (Level -4 on the map I made). This is apparently where “regular” cultists live, so it would make more sense to me if the note had been written and left there by one of them instead of John. There reportedly are areas of the bunker only he can access, so I imagine this is where “My New Father” would have been located if he had written it.

Finally, whoever wrote the note is very self-insightful, seems at peace, and feels loved… so quite the opposite of John. To me, the Baptist doesn’t seem to be as aware of who he is and how he functions (as much as he likes to think he is), and although he tries to be in control of any situation he’s in, he’s everything but calm. In the message he left at Seed Ranch, Joseph explains his little brother’s main problem, the reason he suffers and makes others suffer, is that he was unable to fully cast away his past and, unlike the person who wrote the note, doesn’t realize how much love there is around him.

I agree that parts of “My New Father” describe John well, and that may be why people believe he wrote it. He too feels he was given a second chance and was “born again” thanks to Joseph, isn’t used to the feeling of love, had a troubled and abusive childhood, and made sure he was “society’s very model of success” on the outside while, on the inside, he was “full of suppressed anger” (to quote The Book of Joseph). The problem is, John is still “a tormented boy, damaged and afraid”, and he’s certainly not driven by “acceptance and love” because the conclusions he drew from what happened to him when he was younger are wrong. He didn’t heal from his trauma, he rationalized and weaponized it. John tries to convince himself he’s right, but deep down, I think he knows something’s wrong, and he’s obviously still in pain. The cultist who wrote “My New Father” healed from his trauma and feels safe enough to open his heart, but the same can’t be said about John, unfortunately.

It would have been better for everyone if John had recovered from his awful youth, understood how harmful the lessons he was taught were, and realized that it was now safe for him to love and be loved, without fear, but we know that never happened. This, plus the fact his name doesn’t appear anywhere in “My New Father” and that we find it in the dormitory where other cultists live, is why I don’t think he’s the author of the note… as much as I wish he had been able to write something like this.

[sometimesraven]

Unpopular writing opinion:

We need more absolutely vile, unlikeable villains. There’s a place for villains you can "babygirl" but I’m bored of it. Give me the most nasty disgusting villains that will make me cringe into the earth you cowards.

There's this entire thing that's cropped up around 'likeable' or 'relatable' villains where, instead of being a cautionary tale about how we can all end up there or how people who seem lovely can actually be vile, it's become "uwu babygirl isn't evil after all"

And like there's a place for it! I like my fair share of babygirl villains! Hell I was there all the way back when Thor was released and Loki kicked off the popularisation of this trend!

I'm just,,, bored of it now. Especially when I'm seeing people do the whole babygirlification process on real-ass human beings???? It's gone too far.

Give me vile.

Give me the eugenicist who wants to eradicate 'imperfections' because he thinks he's an agent of God

Give me an abusive horrible parent but don't tell me they're trying just show me from their kid's eyes the catharsis of getting them the fuck out of their life

Give me the fuckin westboro baptist church for elves or someshit i don't care, just give me something I can hate with my entire being so that I can feel the rush of vindication when they inevitably get defeated.

There's too many irredeemable, vile people in real life. Especially as a trans person right now, it's easy to fall into despair when I see how untouchable those people seem to be, and how many people will defend them based on their motivations or some other "relatable" bullshit.

Give me a story that shows they're not as untouchable as they seem. Give me a story that shows there's always hope for the downtrodden; that the vile, horrible people trying to destroy us are just that, and they don't deserve a single tear. Stop trying to humanise our abusers, because we know they're humans but they don't care that we are too.

Just once, give me someone I can sink my teeth into and tear apart without the slightest touch of empathy. Give me what I can't have in real life.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 11

Again, I am working on Paper Hearts and Sweet Home Indiana until they are complete and Paper Hearts just snuck in another chapter so that was fun.

In this we have Corroded Coffin trying to change the culture of metal and the band meets Bob Newby.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

****

Celeste Baptiste was a miracle worker in her field and everyone knew it. Producers and recording studios were chomping at the bit to work with The Fallen the second she put out feelers that their current producer and studio just weren’t meeting the band’s needs.

They decided to go with Starcourt Recording studio as it was closer to home for a lot of the members. Which of course pleased Spence to no end, as it meant that he got to spend more time with Nadia.

They were currently interviewing for producers and had yet to find on that worked for them.

Enter Bob Newby.

****

Bob wasn’t used to working with bands that had alter egos. He heard of them of course. Slipknot, Daft Punk, and others. But he wasn’t a fan of secrecy for the most part and beyond the basic NDAs of contracts, he wasn’t a fan of those really, either.

But there was something about these four men that pulled him in. Especially when he learned that their previous producer had been trying to do with them. It was like he hadn’t listened to them at all and was trying to force them into what he thought metal meant.

So he thought he’d at least speak with them. If they didn’t like him or he didn’t like them, he’d walk away, no skin off his nose.

They walked in all wearing more casual versions of their onstage personas. They wore hoodies and masks of their colors to hind their face and hair, but the rest was all very down to earth. Bob supposed it made sense, after all, they couldn’t record in their tight leather outfits.

He was surprised to see that the drummer’s mask’s eyes were covered unlike the rest of the band and he couldn’t help but wonder if his eyes would give him away, like having some kind of heterochromia or something like that.

“Hey, I’m Bob Newby,” he greeted. “Everyone take a seat. Thanks for coming to meet me at my house studio, I’m two days away from a deadline and am really crunching it.”

“Of course,” the one in white said. He was the only one’s whose mask didn’t completely cover his face. “I would apologize for the subterfuge but it’s kind of our shtick.”

Bob smiled. “So I’ve been told. Tell me a little bit about yourselves.”

The one in white smiled. “I’m Abbadon, I’m the lead singer. I can play guitar, piano, and violin, but we don’t usually incorporate that stuff into our music.”

“Is there a reason why not?” he asked, clasping his hands together and leaning forward on his knees.

The band members looked at each other in shock.

“The label wanted us to stick to metal,” the one in blue said, “They were okay with Abbadon on rhythm guitar to help fill out the sound, but they didn’t want any of that other ‘stuff’.” He put air quotes around stuff.

“They do realize that metal and heavy rock have been using piano for as long as the genre has been a thing, right?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Again the band looked shocked.

Bob sighed. He held up his hands. “Wait, wait... we’ll get into all that once all the introductions have been made.”

The one in red and the one in white shared what he assumed was a concerned glance.

“You weren’t told about us?” the one in red asked.

“Oh, no, I was,” Bob replied with a grin. “But I want to hear it from you.”

So they went around and introduced themselves and he was starting form a picture about the band’s dynamic.

“Right,” he said, “I’ve listened to your other albums, seen recordings of your live shows, and even watched interviews and this is my takeaway on your sound. Your last producer was trying to force you into harmonies and melodies of early thrash metal of the 1980s, which isn’t your style at all.”

Astraeus, the one in midnight blue, spoke from his place on the floor, “That’s what we kept trying to tell him. He said that the sound was coming back and if we wanted to compete with the likes of Metallica and Corroded Coffin then that’s direction we needed to be heading as a band.”

Bob let out a long exasperated sigh. “But you can’t compete with them.” He held up his hands when Azrael, the one in black, and Asmodeus, the one in red, bristled. “I’m not saying you’re not as good as they are. Absolutely not. But you’re not in the same genre of metal that they are. It would be like comparing the Rolling Stones and Beatles because they were both British rock bands.”

Astraeus and Azrael shared a glance, one Bob couldn’t interpret with their masks on.

Azrael rolled his eyes. “We’re what our detractors love to call nu metal as if music can’t have more than one sound.”

Bob nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right. You’re vocals tend toward the melodic over the screaming or more guttural sounds of thrash metal. So I would focus on that. The label sent me over the demo and you’ve got a lot of great stuff here. Stuff the other guy didn’t want to touch. Some of the more...” he cocked his head back and forth, “blatantly queer? LGBTQ+? Gay stuff?”

“Queer works,” Abbadon said with a wry note to his voice.

Bob nodded again. “Who is the writer/writers?”

Astraeus and Azrael raised their hands.

“With a little lyrical help from Abbadon,” Asmodeus said darkly.

Abbadon rubbed his back to calm the other man as he bristled at his other bandmates.

“So how does your writing process work?” Bob said ducking his head to his smile.

Astraeus explained how Abbadon would write down his thoughts and feelings and that he would turn them into lyrics for Azrael to turn into songs.

“So I’m guessing that at least either Abbadon or Astraeus is some variation of the rainbow spectrum?” he pressed the band.

The two men in question shared a glance, Astraeus nodded.

“I’m bi and Astraeus is gay,” Abbadon confirmed. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Bob threw laughed. “No not at all. In fact just the opposite. I want you two to come out.”

He couldn’t see their faces but he could feel the blank stares as their eyes bore into him.

“I understand that is a daunting feeling,” he murmured kindly. “But I think it would really boost your image, allow you to be more open with your songs, especially with Starlight Eyes, and it would make more metal artists be more comfortable with an LGBTQ+ label. Because right not a lot of metal stars are out and all of them have come out while being so massively famous that they could ‘take the risk’.”

Asmodeus and Azrael shared a look.

“The two of us are straight though...” Asmodeus said, “I’m literally famous for women throwing themselves at me, is them being out going to hurt either us or them?”

Bob tilted his head to the side. That was a fair question and one that should be considered. But he shook his head. “It shouldn’t. No one is going to expect the whole band to be queer. Take Corroded Coffin for example. Other than their bassist, Brian Martin being ace, he is still attracted to women romantically,” he held up his hands in defense when it seemed that a couple of the band were about to interject, “and I’m not saying he doesn’t count as queer, because I’m not. But the only one with what the average person would consider queer is their frontman, Eddie Munson. He is an out gay man, but even he didn’t come out until they were selling out arenas.”

The other members started teasing their lead singer, ribbing him and making low probably ribald comments.

Bob raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat.

Azrael turned him and Bob could feel the absolute glee radiating off the man. “Abbadon here, has a crush on Eddie.”

His face split into a large grin. “Aren’t you scheduled to tour with them next year?”

Abbadon coughed and cleared his throat. “Yeah, we’re working on that.”

Their manager who had been waiting in the corner on her phone for the meeting to conclude turned to the band. “What do you think, boys? Is Bob our man for the job?”

He looked up at her and then back to the band. “So what do you say? You ready to rock the metal world?”

Abbadon spoke for all of them when he said, “Yeah. Yeah we are.”

****

In the end it didn’t matter what Steve and his band wanted for the tour dates because Gareth’s little stunt landed him in rehab. And Corroded Coffin’s label refused to tour without him.

Which had pissed Eddie off. They had made a deal with Gareth and he had broken the deal first. And as shit as it was, getting a touring drummer was easier than replacing anyone else in the band.

Eddie and his band were doing an interview about Gareth’s sudden stint in rehab, talking about the future of the band.

Only they weren’t dressed like they normally were. They were still in jeans and t-shirts. But their jeans were in various shades of blue and Brian wore a plain white tee, Jeff wore a Taylor Swift Eras band shirt, and Eddie wore pale pink tee with David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust on it.

In short they did not look like a metal band. They looked like three guys, just shooting shit.

It had been a slow change over the summer. Every time the band went for an interview that wasn’t at an event one of them would dress slightly different. Then two or three of them would wear something a little less ‘metal’, until they were all dressed like they were.

The interviewer, Jenna Peterson looked as uncomfortable to be interviewing them as they looked to be interviewed.

“So let’s start with something softer,” she said, crossing her legs and simpering, “so why don’t we first first talk about your shift in style.”

Jeff threw back his head and laughed. “Good god! We don’t wear the ‘uniform’ for a couple of interviews and we get the clothes question.”

Brian shook his head.

“You think all those leather and chains and shit is comfortable?” Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe, maybe not. But it sure is hot as hell,” she said cocking her head.

Jeff snorted and ran his tongue over his lips. “We were getting tired of the hate metal stars get for wearing anything but leather and black denim. Do you know how fucking hot that shit gets?”

“Like there was a bassist from a huge metal band,” Eddie said, agreeing, “that was papped wearing a graphic tee and cargo shorts standing outside of a shop where his wife was shopping and suddenly everyone was talking about how he sold out and that he was disrespecting the genre. Dude was sixty or some shit. If he can’t wear what makes him comfortable without being told he’s selling out, than what hope is there for up and coming bands from being shunned because they ‘don’t conform’ to the aesthetic of being in a metal band.”

Jenna smirked and tilted her head. “Is this about The Fallen and their assertion that they wouldn’t have been welcomed if they had been themselves.”

Jeff and Eddie shared a glance.

“I won’t lie,” Jeff said, “and say that wasn’t a part of it. But it was also because one of my good friends from high school was a huge metal fan. Loved all the greats. Metallica, Iron Maiden, Dio, Black Sabbath...like was the biggest fan of all of them. Had all their albums on vinyl, posters on her wall, but other than the odd band t-shirt she sure as hell didn’t dress like a metalhead.”

Jenna leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand, elbow propped up on her knee. “So what did she dress like?”

Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes. “She was a cheerleader with a fondness for pink and frilly. She loved floral prints and cardigans for fuck’s sake.”

Jenna sat back in shock. “Wait, really?”

Brian nodded, scratching his cheek thoughtfully. “Yeah. She’s our manager now. But the push back she would get for not dressing like a metalhead and just being a girl was repulsive.”

“We apologized to her about not trying to change the culture around what a metalhead should look like,” Jeff said, “and she waved us off. Said that if it had bothered her she would have said something herself. But she was the one that helped carefully curate what we wore so that it went smoother.”

“We’ve been talking to other bands, too,” Brian said. “Getting them to help. We are supposed to the genre about non-conformity but here we are pushing a conformity on people in the same story, different font.”

Jenna returned to her simpering, she batted her eyelashes at Jeff. “Is The Fallen among those you’ve asked to help?”

“No,” came Eddie’s blunt answer.

She reared her head back in shock and blinked at him for a moment. “Why not? It seems to me that of all the bands to need to dial it back, The Fallen would be at the top of that list.”

Brian snapped his fingers. “And that would be why. They don’t need to dial it back. Maybe they would be as famous as they are without the masks and shit, but now it’s integral to who they are as a band. And we aren’t going to make them change to make other people more comfortable.”

Jenna uncrossed and crossed her legs. “Well, good luck. So you just finished your ninth album, tell me about that process.”

They talked about the album and Gareth’s battle with substance abuse.

The interview never got less awkward, but Corroded Coffin handled it with such grace that a lot of people were calling Jenna out on social media for being the absolute worst choice for that interview.

****

Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson

@messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi

@i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @vecnuthy @irregular-child

@yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

@genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet

@ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart

@dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot

@papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33

@child-of-cthulhu

[chaotext]

UNLIKE A BAPTIST- PUT YOU IN MY TRUNK

EXPERIMENTAL NOISECORE

https://on.soundcloud.com/QdCcU

[elvisabutler]

one night of sin

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( priest au ) x female reader word count: 3003 warnings: priest kink. religious talk. cheating ( reader is technically cheating on her boyfriend ). minor implications/ideas of entrapment. minor breeding mention ( like blink and you miss it ). cum swallowing. boot riding. oral ( male receiving ). an obscene amount of the words father presley used. elvis ia a catholic in this because that's my specific flavor of priest. improper confessional. author’s note: welcome to day 15 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, religious kink/priest kink with 68/69 era priest elvis presley x reader. so. long time no see? i got no excuse but to simply explain that when you need the us government to go fast, it'll go slow as molasses in january in yellowknife but when you need it to maybe go a little slower you end up concluding what has been a nearly 5 year long adventure in less than two months. america y'all. BUT. i'm back with a new shift, a sleeping pattern that enables me to not pass out every hour and a priest fic for the smut summer ( that's now just smut last half of the year ) to tide y'all over while i finish up spark and other shenanigans. pick your poison the elvis though to be honest.

"A woman like you should know better," Father Presley murmurs in your ear as he pulls you in for a hug. Unlike most Fathers the congregation has had, he's always been more of a tactile person. He's always joked that it came from his Pentecostal upbringing even as other there were always titters about how it came from actually being a Baptist. Father Presley would turn the other cheek though, a true sign of how he was a good godly man. A man who truly was meant for the cloth.

Yet, your body craves him, and you desire to be on your knees, praying to God and him for salvation. The Lord wouldn't allow the devil to tempt you so viciously with Father Presley. There had to be some good in this temptation. There had to be a plan you were yet to be privy to, but perhaps perhaps the Father might be.

"What did you mean by a woman like me?" You ask after the service legs crossed at the ankles in a plush chair, long after you should have left to spend time with your significant other. He was a boyfriend you had been steady with since college, and yet neither of you had decided to marry. Neither of you had decided to walk down that aisle despite both of your parents insisting on the union. You ought to be spending time with him, but more and more, you found yourself in the rectory with Father Presely discussing any number of topics. He was intellectually stimulating in a way those around you weren't, and you found yourself drawn like a moth to a flame to Father Presley's light.

Father Presley looks up from the papers he had been scribbling on, and you feel a shudder pass through you at the heat in his gaze. The Father shouldn't be looking at you like that. Your boyfriend barely looks at you like that, and yet here the Father was with eyes that set a fire ablaze inside you and underneath your skin. A part of you wants to hang your head in shame, to hide your face as if the Father is stripping your purity with every second he looks at you. If you were being honest with yourself- he already had been. A woman like you should know better than to fantasize about the man who God chose to lead the congregation you're a part of. You always found yourself in the late night hours before bed or the early morning hours before daylight, wondering how his plush lips would feel against your neck, sucking marks on your skin. You wondered how the occasional beard he grew would feel between your thighs and against your most intimate parts. Against your will your thighs clench at the thoughts that float unbidden to the forefront of your mind.

His eyes dart down to your clenched thighs and you see his nostrils flare before he speaks. "A woman who believes in God and who cares about how he sees her. You should know better than to fall for tricks the devil puts in front of you."

Tricks. The word feels like a joke bouncing about your head once it leaves his lips. Was that Father Presley confessing to you that he wasn't a force of good in the world? That he was sent by the devil himself to tempt young women such as yourself to the side of the dark. No, no, Father Presley wasn't that sort of man. Maybe he wasn't perfect but he loves God so much and the mere idea sends a shiver down your spine and through to your soul.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips before you swallow. "And what sort of tricks are those, Father?"

If you weren't paying attention to his face, you'd miss how his jaw clenches and miss how his hand tightens on a paper he's holding. You are paying attention. Rapt attention as you always do for Father Presley and you can't help the smile that crosses your lips. He may not be sent by the devil to tempt young women but maybe you were sent to tempt him. And it appears that it might be working. You're playing with fire though, hellfire and damnation you could joke but but something in the way Father Presley stands up from his desk and makes his way to the front of it has you willing to risk even more.

"You ain't naive, lil one," his voice is pitched so low you almost don't hear him but the words are there, just barely. "You're so innocent, so pure n' righteous but I know ya. Ya ain't the least bit naive. Ya know better than this."

To play with hellfire like this. Perhaps that was the point, perhaps you knew better and yet you also knew this was what you wanted. You wanted to see how far you could push Father Presley, you wanted to see if he would finally break and join you in having a mind swirling off and on with images of the two of you entwined together. Lips pressing against one another and against every body part. Your clit throbs at the memory of your dream from last night.

With a shaky exhale, you try to respond with something witty and charming and expected. "I'm only a woman, Father Presley. I- I'm not- I'm not as innocent as I once was."

You watch as something shifts in Father Presley at your words, how his jaw tenses and he finally moves the front of his desk to right in front of you. He's always been a bit taller than you, than most of the congregation, and yet you've never realized how overpowering that simple height difference could be. You've never quite realized how his broad shoulders and thick arms could cage you in with an ease until you found yourself in the position. Your breath comes in short pants as you swear Father Presley steals them from your chest. His eyes roam across your body, beginning at your open mouth, gliding down your neck and chest and down, down, down until he stops at your thighs.

The thighs that are clenched together so tightly he reckons you'd be able to form a diamond out of coal from the pressure. He can hear the whispers of the Lord telling him he shouldn't do anything. That this is a test the Lord wants him to pass. Yet the longer he looks at you, the longer he sees your chest rise and fall with shallow breaths of desire the louder the voice of the Devil is in his ear becomes. You want this, you need this. You deserve this for being such a pious young woman. You weren't like some other girls who thought they could throw themselves at him, no, you stayed pure and so very inviting for him.

He moves a hand to under your chin, grasping it lightly in an effort to have you look at him. His words leave his mouth in a murmur. "Have ya done somethin' ya need to confess?"

A burning fire rolls through his veins at the idea, threatening to envelop the two of you in hellfire from the Lord smiting you where you both sit. He watches as you open your mouth to speak only to have something akin to a low whine leave your lips. "Lil one, I asked you a question. Have ya done-"

The words are cut off by your answer, a measured response where you drag the words out. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

He's heard so many people say those words through tears and with husky breaths yet the way you say it has him needing his own confession. The way your eyes look up at him with desire and pure unadulterated need have him exhaling heavily. "When was your last confession?"

It was last week, he knows because you were always so dutiful in admitting when you had done wrong. The glint he sees in your eyes tells him you hadn't admitted this before, hadn't dreamed of putting this sin into words for him and for the Lord. That devilish voice becomes just a bit deeper, a bit more pronounced.

"Last week. But- Father, I- I've been keeping this a secret. From you and the Lord." Your voice shakes even as your gaze on Father Presley is steady. "I've- I've-"

"It's alright, lil one, this- this ain't any different than the other times you've confessed, you can jus' see me now. The Lord is forgiving if you're truly repentant, darlin'. are you?" His thumb brushes against your chin and it occurs to him that if he moved it just enough he could run his thumb over your lower lip, could coax them open like he was going to feed you a wafer. "Tell me what it is."

"I've thought of you sexually." You whisper quickly and quietly, your face and body heating up as if you've caught it on fire. Is this the Lord smiting you for finally admitting what you've done? Putting into actual words your desires and wants? "I've touched myself to the thought of you, Father. Touched between my legs and cried out for you to help me."

It's not that you mean to utter such filth so quickly and with such fervor but the more the fire burns within you the more you can't help it. Father Presley's gaze is unwavering even as his jaw tightens more and more with each passing word. You swear you see his eyes becoming hooded, a dangerous glint forming as his pupils start to widen and his nostrils flare. Against your better judgment, your hand sneaks up to his jaw.

"Don't," he growls, his grip on your chin tightening as he does. "Don't touch me like that. You- you know better."

The cracks that had always been there, miniscule as they were are widening with every second the two of you are in this room. His clerical collar is choking him, tightening like a vice grip the longer your hand stays on his jaw.

"Father Presley. Forgive me, but I want to. And I think you-" Stopping yourself, you take a deep breath. "I'll repent if I can just have one time with you."

A moment is all you have to regret the words that come out of your mouth before he backs away from you like he's been burned. Shame runs through your body infecting every inch of you as you start to get up, ready to run from the room. Hiding would be an acceptable alternative than seeing the look on his face become one of pure disappointment and distaste. So busy with the thoughts in your head, you don't realize that he's moved back in front of you until his hands grab your hips.

"One night," he commands with a tone that offers no questioning. The tone he uses at the pulpit, the one that forces everyone in the church to hang on to every single word that passes by his lips. A shiver runs through your body as you start to drop to your knees despite the way he tries to keep you from doing so. "Don't- Get back up here."

A head shake is the only response he gets as your hands move to the front of his slacks, shaking as you fumble with the button and the zipper. His cock is warm to the touch and firm as your brush against it and you wonder how it's supposed to cool the fire between your legs. If anything you worry it'll stroke it even higher and higher until it burns the two of you to ash and takes the church down with you. You've gone far to back down and once his pants are finally undone, his cock springs from its confines. He hadn't worn underwear, his bare cock had been so close and yet so far from you. You've never seen one before, not up close and personal but you know from the way his thighs tighten there's something different, something that makes him nervous as you lick your lips, admiring the head of his cock trying to peek out from the skin that surrounds it like a casing.

As your hand moves to grasp at his cock, Elvis grabs your wrist and holds it tight for a moment. "It's different, I know, lil one. But-"

If the ache between your legs didn't make you want to cry from sheer desire and if you had something to truly compare it to, you're certain you would have wanted to defend Father Presley's cock, tell him that you haven't seen anything more beautiful in all your years of living. Instead you allow yourself a tentative lick, looking up through your eyelashes to see Father Presley's head lean back, eyes looking up as if to pray for salvation.

His hand drops your wrist and moves to your shoulder, clenching and holding on for dear life as you play with the slit, unsure of how to move the skin around. You mouth at his cock, spreading your spit and his not small amount of precum around it. Noises you've only ever dreamed of ripping from his mouth exit in an unending stream as his hand moves to grasp the back of your neck, pulling you off as much as he can, even as your teeth graze at his cock. "Darlin' you- You gotta move up the skin, let 'im in your mouth fully."

His grip loosens the moment your hand slides his foreskin up and without missing a beat your mouth is back on him, tongue playing with the slit of his penis, and trying to take as much of him in your mouth as you can. What you can't get into your mouth, your hand grasps, trying to make sure every moment of this is something you can remember all those nights when you won't have this, won't have him. A hand makes it way to your hair and you whine around his cock, wanting him to do something with it. The chuckle he lets out, low and practically devilish is all the warning you get before his hand yanks at the ends of your hair. If your mouth wasn't full, you're certain you'd have cried out as you grind against the floor. As it is, he still hears you, still understands what he's done and yanks again, watching as your eyes roll back in your head.

"Takin' me so well, such a good woman. Saved your mouth and everything just for me, haven't ya? Been achin' wit' no relief from that boyfriend of yours. Jus' wanted a forbidden fruit like Eve, didn't ya?" He knows the words he's saying don't make sense, that it's murmured and muttered as he focuses on the warm heat of your mouth and the feel of your tongue against his cock and tracing the veins. "Lord's pushed us too far. Couldn't- Shoulda- Been wanting to taste ya for too long. Needed ya for too long."

He shouldn't admit this, shouldn't tell you these things but it's as if the devil himself has taken over his body and filled his mouth with every sinful thought he's had of the two of you. Your thighs clench and he moves his foot in between them, trying to give you something to grind down on proper. And grind down you do, whimpering and groaning around his cock, almost seeming to bounce as you chase a release while bringing him to his own.

"Devil put us in front of each other- tempted us till we broke but this- we'll get it outta our systems. Gonna forget all 'bout this after tonight. No one but us and the Lord'll know. Won't have anythin' to 'member tonight wit'."

You nod, even as your mind tells you that's not what you want. Even as your mind tells you that you want to remember this and that you want to beg him to give you something to remember this by. That's not what you're supposed to do, what either one of you are supposed to do and yet it doesn't stop the desire and need you have for it. It doesn't stop your mind from picturing a life past tonight with him as his grip tightens once more when he yanks and your clit brushes against the toe of his shoe. You feel your orgasm slam through you at that simple brush, already overstimulated and aching and you worry you're going to stain the carpet or the leather of his shoes but looking up, you realize he won't care.

"Gonna have ya swallow, lil one. Gonna be good for ya," he groans, even as his minds supplies an image of your face and hair painted with his cum. At another drag of your teeth along the underside of his cock, your mouth fills with the salty tang of his cum. Your mouth fills with it and you have to force yourself to start to swallow quickly to avoid choking. Your eyes burn from the effort but it slows quicker than you expect, leaving you exhaling through your nose heavily and inhaling the full musk of his pubic hair. His grip on your neck is the first thing you feel as you start to come back to yourself and you let him pull you off his cock, opening your mouth when you feel his thumb against your lower lip.

"Didn't waste a drop," he whispers, patting at your neck and motioning for you to stand up. Your legs are shaky but he helps, even as you fall against his chest, so warm and inviting.

"Father-" You start to speak only to be silenced by a finger to your lips as he starts to walk both of you back to his desk.

"For tonight, it's Elvis. Let me take care of you."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour @butlersxbirdy, @precious-lil-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust, @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @doll-elvis, @whatstruthgottodowithit. i literally think i used spark's last tag list. lord help me i don't even know.

[jayisgay]

no you don’t get it it’s like. Yea Gideon is Jesus but John isn’t exclusively god, he’s also the Antichrist.

because if you look at the actual traits that Jesus had- being forgiving, the embodiment of truth, acting according to the will of the one who sent them, being self-sacrificing, thematic references to light- John is portrayed as the exact opposite of this *multiple* times in the text. And if John is the antichrist, that calls his dynamic with Alecto into question.

I see Alecto being referred to a lot as Lucifer in the fandom but if you take John as the Antichrist, that makes her like. Actual god. Because she initially sent John (“I chose you to change and this is how you repay me?”) to save the world, but he went against her will to destroy it and remake it in his own image instead. And then (unlike Jesus) he obscured the knowledge that she is the one who actually gave him those powers, the knowledge that she is a greater divine than him, by any means necessary- to the extent of entombing her in the earth.

I could go into it a lot more (I actually have a three and a half hour long PowerPoint presentation on my theories about this and what it means for Alecto the Ninth) but essentially if Alecto/the earth is God, that means that John was intended to be the second coming, but he failed, making Gideon the second coming like. 2.1 or something.

When I have time I’m gonna write a longer post going into more detail because I’m leaving a lot out (like why John is John the Baptist and what that means for Gideon and Harrow’s ending, because I think I’ve got it figured out) but yeah. Alecto isn’t Lucifer, she’s God. John is the Antichrist desperately trying to obscure the truth of god. And Gideon is the true child of god who is bringing light/truth into the world.

[crepesuzette2023]

So whats like the general consensus about Stu and John? Do we think they ever messed around or not?

Ooooh, I won't burn and scar my typing fingers on anything like "general consensus," and my cop-out answer is: depends on who you ask. I mean, if you're living in a world where 'a man being with a woman' = straight, or 'a man who never came out unequivocally as queer' = straight, then John and Stu very much never messed around, and, more importantly, didn't feel the desire to.

But I think if you look at it with an open mind, without being afraid of the possibility, you'll see it's more likely they did than that they didn't.

First, you have John, with his life-long romantic idea of being in love with your creative partner (see: his comments on Yoko and Paul)—an idea that fits Stu seamlessly, and perhaps even started with him. In the Hunter Davies bio, John (in '67) calls Stu Paul's predecessor in the 'my trusted partner in art' role.

There is also this conversation with Stu's girlfriend, Astrid Kircherr, as related by Backbeat director Iain Softley:

Paying tribute to Astrid this week, film director Iain Softley revealed her moving words from his interviews with her when he made 1994 movie Backbeat about her and Stuart’s romance.

They hint at a complex relationship between her, Stuart and John. She said it was only after Stuart died that she and John “took a load of pills” and talked for 12 hours about “all the things on our minds about Stuart”. “‘He was jealous when Klaus and I fancied Stuart more, and took him home and left John out,” she told Iain.

“He told me he really loved Stuart, but was afraid of the feeling.”

Iain adds: “I think she thought he meant as a friend, I don’t think there was any suggestion they were in a relationship. But Stuart had always been John’s best friend, they shared a flat in Liverpool. John would write to Stuart as ‘Jesus Christ to John the Baptist’, in the sense Stuart was showing him the way. He looked up to him.

“There was a sense John didn’t want Stuart taken away from him, he didn’t want Stuart to stay in Hamburg.

“At the same time he was very fond of Astrid, but I think there was a conflict there.”

If John was afraid of the feeling, then I'm thinking he felt something that, at the time, and probably still today, was a scary thing to feel. I'll leave it at that.

Also, they were, what? 18, 19, 20 years old? At that age, odds are you do fool around, even if you regret it afterwards. Nothing wrong with that.

Look at this picture of Stu (r.) with Astrid and Astrid's ex, Klaus Voormann. Klaus, who later said he and Astrid didn't work as a couple because she wanted him to be exactly like her image of him, and whose marriage (to a woman) was a platonic marriage of convenience, according to himself. We have now reached the beautiful stage of come onnn! "Straight" was at the party, but so were many others. These relationships were messy! That's awesome!

And how do we feel about John feeling up Gene Vincent, while Paul and George look on knowingly, and Pete Best blanks out? We feel joyous and unsurprised.

A word about Paul vs. Stu, since we're (sort of) at it.

It's possible (what an understatement) to think of their rivalry as sexual rivalry. This is, once more, hinted at in Backbeat, where Stu is more or less giving away John to Paul.

And yet. I think it was more than that. I think everyone, back then, was fighting for more than a bed-partner. They were fighting for their future, for a life unlike their parents'. Paul was fighting for the band, Stu was fighting for John to join him on his artist's way (even giving 'rock'n'roll' a try), and John..

John was, on the one hand, the person either of the others felt he needed in order to realize his dream. But on the other hand, he was the least decided of the three. He may have perceived that, within the trio, he had the fewest fall-back options: Stu had his obvious, much-mentored artistic talent. Paul had a possible academic future bwxt to his musical talent, plus a clear determination to make it in music. John had talent in spades, but perhaps less of a clear-cut idea of where and how to apply it. So he tried keeping both of them close...?

With fun scenes like these as a result:

John sure is feeling campy/cuddly, while Paul is incandescent with rage. A hot look for both of them.

In the end, we don't know if they ever did fool around. My usual reply in those cases is: I hope they did, if they both wanted it. I hope it was good.

I need to check out this book:

John and Paul look happy.

[spot-the-antisemitism]

Genuine question, and I don't know if you answered this previously, but how do you feel about the Palestinian citizens? Like, if you ignore whatever the fuck Hamas has going on and just look at the innocents, what are your thoughts on the genocide? Do you think Israel is justified in bombing the Gaza strip? If you think think that Israel isn't justified, what are your thoughts on the people that do?

I'm not trying to start shit or anything, this is all asked out of genuine curiosity, and there isn't a wrong or right answer (everything is objective when it comes to opinion based questions such as these)

have a good timezone

Dear anon,

My heart goes out to them and any answer that doesn't extend at least some compassion for people trying to survive in a dictatorship is wrong.

There is a middle ground between "these brown people don't understand how to not be antisemtic and not murder it's their CuLtUrE" and "All palestineans are complicit in hamas war crimes, even NO especially the refugees who weren't even in Gaza"

There is some normalcy and compassion that can exist between fetishization and racism

'your thoughts on the genocide?' STOP APPOPRIATING THE HOLOCAUST WHEN TALKING ABOUT GAZA.

You call it a genocide only because you don't want to call October 7th a war crime. Would you call the Iraq-Iran war a genocide? NO? Why not? Is it because the Jews aren't the ones doing the killing? I see.

"If you think think that Israel isn't justified, what are your thoughts on the people that do?"

I have spoken to those people. They feel like they HAVE to support the IDF to counter the "IDF belong in hell" Westboro baptist church style nonsense. It's kinda sad. PSA: you don't have to excuse your sides war crimes either.

I promise you if you can extend compassion for the Gazan civilian who bears some complicity in what Hamas does because they control everything in Gaza you can extend it to the average kahanist likudnik

Curent timezone time is: early morning

I am open about living in the southern us because I don't fake ethnicities for clout unlike my enemies

I WILL have a good morning

Cecil