#it needs to be stated three times a day on the worlds loudest speaker

[primarining]

saw a vegan say "it's not about making change, it's about not being cruel" in reference to stopping climate change & switching to all vegan diets. what an unserious and insane line of thought. idk about you but I think making actual real changes to stop climate change is far better than not eating meat because you think it's meanie behavior.

[castleshadows]

For As Long As We Could

Casteel has spent the last seven years inside, afraid of stepping out into the world once again. But, when Elashya dies, he finally decides to face his fears to support Kieran in his grief.

CW: Major Character Death

Written June 17, 2021

Casteel watched as the funeral procession made its way past his window, the sky outside trying its best to match the mood with gloomy white clouds that promised a drizzle later in the day. Similarly, the small crowd was cloaked in white, the color of mourning. Only the dead’s closest family and partners wore anything decorative, a small white lily pinned to the breast to represent the innocence restored to the soul of the departed.

He could pick out Kieran easily in the gathering, holding the back right corner of the casket. To anyone else he looked like he had his head tucked against the wind as everyone else did, but Casteel knew him better than that. No, his friend was crying, judging on the way his shoulders shook every couple seconds. It was a surprise to see him so vulnerable in front of that many people, but Cas didn’t judge him for it. In fact, it was a relief to see him finally show some semblance of emotion. The wolven had been so… stoic the past few days. Elashya had been the first bright light in his life in a long time, and that light had gone out so quickly, that it had left Kieran in a state of disrepair so great that he sought to hide it from everyone around him. Including his bonded.

The wind picked up a bit and somebody's hat went flying. Nobody so much as glanced in the object direction as they continued on with their dreary parade through the streets. Casteel could see the graveyard in the distance, and the hole in which Elashya would forever reside. He knew Kieran saw it too by the way the wolven started shaking. Someone beside him, whom Casteel had never seen before, put their hand on Kieran’s shoulder, rubbing it and comforting him until he seemed to calm a bit.

A rogue bit of jealousy flashed through him, and Casteel worked to control it. He and Kieran loved each other very much. Before his… capture, outsiders looking at their relationship would’ve thought they hated each other. They had been constantly at each out, swinging fists at faces for the most minor things. They still loved each other though. Nothing would change that. However, fifty years of two different kinds of torture had changed them both, and he felt like he hardly knew his dearest friend, his partner in crime, anymore. He wanted to get to know him again, badly. But, every time he tried to step even a toe outside of his current comfort zone, something in his mind convinced him that he would end up back in that cage again, being raped and brutalized, his body nor his blood his own.

Casteel shook his head, yanking himself away from that train of thought before he could board it. It had been nearly three months since he’d had a panic attack, and he didn’t wish to restart that timer.

Cas’s eyes left the window and trailed around the small room. When he’d returned, seven years ago almost to the day, he didn’t want to stay in his old rooms. They reminded him too much of her. Every time he set foot in the bedroom he could clearly see her lying on the bed, waiting for him to return. Every time he peeked his head into the bathroom he saw her in the shower, beckoning him to join as she washed her long golden locks. Every time he smelled her leftover scent in the sheets that had not been washed in fifty-seven years, he wanted to vomit. So, he’d requested a different room, one that didn’t feel so big and empty, and one that she had never set foot in.

His gaze snagged on the small wardrobe in the corner, and he pushed his chair back from the desk walking silently over the wood floors. He stopped in front of the cabinet and slowly opened the fancily embellished doors. They creaked slightly, the sound deafening in the quiet room. Inside were all the clothes he’d worn for the past seven years. Ten tunics, ten pairs of breeches, ten pairs of socks, four belts, three coats, two cloaks and a set of boots that were worn and practically falling apart. All of which were some variation of white, brown, or black. Not the most fitting outfits for a Prince, but something about the routine of it comforted him.

He selected a white tunic, the lightest color breeches he had—a sort of light beige—and a black belt. It wasn’t even close to being appropriate for a funeral, but he didn’t have anything formal and white, so these would have to do. Potentially he could borrow some clothes from Kieran’s closet, or some old ones from Jasper, but he was already going outside for the first time in quite a while, and he didn’t know if he could handle more than one new thing at a time.

Casteel shucked off his soft, stretchy trousers and pulled on the light beige ones. He pulled the tunic over his head and buttoned it up, tucking the fabric into his pants. Glancing out the window, he noticed that the parade was near the cemetery. He would have to hurry if he were to make it on time.

Without thinking much about it, Casteel threw open the door to his chambers and stepped out into the cool hallway. He took a minute to let the reality of what he was about to do sink in. Anxiety bubbled up, but he quickly shoved it down, refusing to let his fear get in the way of what Kieran needed. He was going to be there for his brother if it was the last thing he did. A small voice in the back of his tried to convince him it would be, and he paused, letting the voice take over for a minute. And then he was flying down the hallway, not an all out run, but pretty damn close. Slow and steady wasn’t going to cut it here. It was going to be either all at once or not at all.

The walls were a blur as he sprinted through the large estate. There were usually very few visitors at this time of year, and Kirha and Jasper rarely employed servants, so the halls were quiet and empty.

Casteel slowed down near the stairs, trying desperately not to trip. Nothing took the dignity out of one's re-enter into the world like falling face-first down the stairs.

“Casteel?”

He paused, foot poised above the ground, hand white-knuckling the railing. Turning his head, he met the teary gaze of Kirha Contou. Unlike Casteel, she had known Elashya quite well, and being Kirha, had practically claimed the wolven as one of her own. It was no surprise that she was nearly as upset as Kieran was.

“I didn’t expect you to be out at this time,” she said, her voice soft as if she was afraid she might scare him away. Casteel was afraid he might be scared away too. “Do you need something?”

The silence was the loudest he’d ever heard. He wanted to answer her, but something in him froze. The large parlor suddenly seemed extremely daunting, not to mention outside, where the sky was open and there were no walls to keep him safe. He would have nothing except for the clothes on his back and his own frail body, that still hadn’t built up even a third of the muscle he used to have. Casteel stepped back, away from the door, away from the outside world.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t do this.

“Cas?” Kirha said again. Her expression was one of love, and she held her hand out in front of her, coming towards him. “I was heading to Elashya’s funeral. Would you like to come?” She cocked her head waiting for an answer.

Steeling himself, he tentatively placed his hand in hers. Casteel would force himself to go if he must. Kieran needed him, and he would be there for his brother. It also helped that Kirha would walk there with him. A comforting presence if he should need it, and he had a feeling he would.

The first steps outside were stressful to say the least, but he kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead, and refused to let himself look at the empty, open sky, or even glance at the few civilians that gawked at him along the street. Eventually he felt their eyes find other places to land on, and he felt a bit lighter, each step less of a challenge than the one before.

Kirha stood by his side the entire time, leading him through what they both knew as the least crowded areas of the city.

Too soon for comfort, the graveyard was in view, and Casteel could see the large amount of people gathered in the middle. It seemed that the eulogy’s had already started and as they grew nearer, he could hear the end of an older man’s speech being delivered. He looked like he could be her father, and it was confirmed when he referenced the dead as his daughter.

Kirha led him through the makeshift pews towards Jasper and their youngest daughter, Vonetta, who waved shyly at him. Kieran sat in the second row just ahead of them, and he seemed to sense Casteel’s prescenese, tensing and turning around to meet his gaze.

His eyes were teary, and there were water tracks all down his cheeks, but he did his best to smile when he saw Casteel, mouthing a quiet “thank you”. Cas nodded to the wolven and then looked towards the podium, where a Priestess stepped up and called the next speaker forward.

“Kieran Contou, partner of the deceased.”

All eyes turned to his brother, and Kieran stood, shakily making his way to the front and thanking the Priestess for the introduction. He stepped up onto the podium and then seemed to freeze, droplets of water starting to build up in his eyes.

Kieran gripped the speech in his hands, looking over the crowd as if they were his death sentence. Tears spilled down his face and Casteel could feel Kirha tense beside him. She very obviously wanted to go to her son, but didn’t know how he would react. He couldn’t blame her. Kieran’s feelings were confusing on a good day, and today was very much not a good day.

Without thinking about what he was going to do, Casteel stood up. Immediately all eyes were on him, but he forced himself to ignore them all except the ones that belonged to his best friend. He made his way out of the aisle, trying not to step on anyone’s feet while still meeting Kieran’s gaze.

He didn’t really remember the walk to the front, only the way his bonded’s eyes, usually full of amusement or boredom or absolute apathy, were completely raw. A window directly into his soul. His friend was vulnerable and practically ripped open for the world to see. And, Casteel couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

“Do you want me to?” he asked softly, holding out one hand for the piece of paper that contained the handwritten speech.

Kieran looked down at the page and then back at Casteel and repeated the action. Eventually he nodded, shaking as he handed it to his friend. The wolven moved to leave, but Cas wrapped his arm around his shoulders pulling him close and waiting until he relaxed in his grip to speak.

Clearing his throat, Casteel began.

“I did not know Elashya well,” he started in his own words, his voice ringing out stronger and clearer than he’d anticipated, “She and I did not see each other very often and when we did I am ashamed to say that I did not make much of an effort to become acquainted with her… But I can see very clearly from the crowd gathered here today that she was much loved, and I have been told of her kindness and her warm, magnetic personality by my best friend and brother, Kieran Contou.”

The wolven beside him let out a choked sob, and several people in the crowd started to cry along with him. Casteel hugged him tighter.

“I know that he loved her very much, and it is with this love in mind that I read his speech for you today,” he unfolded the piece of paper and started to read about the woman he’d never known, but now wish he had met, “Elashya Fraiser was a bright light in my life—in all our lives—and one that was snuffed out much too quickly… She had such a long life to live, so many things she wanted to do that she was not able to. But I know that if she were here now she would scold me for being so depressing.”

The crowd did not laugh, but several gave small smiles, each remembering something about the deceased. Caseteel paused for a moment, letting the words sink in, and then continued.

“So I will try during this speech not to mourn the life she did not live, but celebrate the one she had,” Casteel watched as many nodded in agreement, “I remember when I first met her. It was at a time when my life was filled with shadows, but they scattered at the first bright smile I saw on her face. That was one of the many things I loved about her. She was always smiling, always looking for a silver lining on every cloud. Her smiles were beautiful, and they made me feel warm inside every time I caught a glimpse.”

He remembered when Shea’s smiles had done that for him. When every glance she made his way made his very soul soar.

“I know what you’re thinking. Every man in love has something cheesy to say about their love’s smile, but Elashya’s was like hot cocoa and a warm blanket on a cold night. Everything about her felt like coming home.”

He had not known Elashya, but his friend's beautiful words made it feel like he had. She sounded like a lovely person, and he really did regret not getting to know her.

“She lit up every room without fail, and made it seem effortless. Even in the last days of her life she stayed positive. Even as her loved ones crowded, teary-eyed, around her bed, saying their final goodbyes, she was able to send them away smiling. Still sad, but at least reassured that she would be okay in the next life. And she will be,” Casteel paused to read the next line, and almost laughed out loud. Even in tough times Kieran found a way to be sarcastic, “If anyone can find something good in being dead it’s Elashya.”

This time there were a couple teary chuckles. Even without looking up, Casteel could sense that many people were in a deep state of nostalgia. He could tell Kieran was too. The wolven had stopped sobbing and though there were still tears running down his cheeks, they were ones not of sorrow, but of a bittersweet kind of feeling. Casteel turned his attention back to the page.

“I’m sorry that my speech is so short, for I fear that if I write any more I will not be able to stop. There is so much about her that I want to share, so much I want to say about the one I loved. The one I still love with all my heart. But, there is a time limit on these, so I will say just one more thing.”

Casteel had told himself at the beginning that he would get through this speech without shedding tears, but reading what Kieran had written about the woman he’d loved was making it pretty damn difficult. He had a way with words that Casteel would never be able to even attempt. And the speech was a painful reminder that he hardly knew anything anymore about his best friend. Kieran had been in love for the first time for the gods sake and he hadn’t been there for him.

Something nudged his side and Casteel opened eyes he hadn’t realized were closed. He blinked away the slight wetness that had been gathering and looked to Kieran, who poked him again.

“Sorry,” he whispered only loud enough for his friend to hear. Kiearn nodded and gestured back to the speech.

“Can I finish?” he rasped.

Casteel handed the page to him, directing him towards where he left off and a second later Kieran was speaking slowly, but surely.

“Elashya and I knew from the moment we fell in love that the end could come any day,” his voice wavered a bit, but he waved Casteel away when he tried to take over, “We knew that it was possible she would die, and I must admit there were times I felt myself falling into hopelessness. There were times where I was tempted to save myself from despair, for I am selfish, and I won’t pretend otherwise.”

Casteel wasn’t sure where this notion came from that he was selfish, for the wolven was one of the most loyal and loving people he knew. But, he didn’t interrupt, only made a mental note to later remind Kieran of the love he held inside him.

“But every moment I was with her has made it worth it. All the pain I have felt the last few weeks has been worth it, and I would endure a million more years of it if it meant I could see her just one last time.”

Casteel felt the same way about Shea. He was deeply ashamed of it, but he could not pretend he didn’t feel the way he felt. He would do anything to have just one more moment with her before. Before she decided she didn’t love him enough to stay with him until the end. But, maybe there was no before. Maybe she’d never felt that way for him. Maybe she’d been stringing him along the entire time. A tear fell out of the corner of his eye, and made a track down his cheek.

“I do not regret a thing and I know she didn’t either. I know that she is watching me now, and I hope that she is proud of me for trying to be at least somewhat optimistic. I admit I’m rather bad at it,” he paused, smiling a bit at his own writing, “But I know that if I were somehow taken back in time with all the knowledge of the heartbreak I was to endure, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Kieran then looked up, meeting the eyes of everyone in the crowd and setting down the card. The tears in his eyes were coming back in full force and he took a deep breath, looking behind him at that coffin poised beside the empty grave. He looked… he looked lost, but like there was hope that he could be found again. Then, with visible effort he turned away, and held his head high delivering the last line of his speech.

“Because the heart doesn’t care how long you may have someone… It just cares that you have the person for as long as you can.”

[crayonwriting]

05 - Just How Much I Missed You

Summary: Maiko just wanted her good ol’ dad to walk her down the aisle. So, she invited the three men from your past in hopes of meeting him. The only problem was, which one of them is it?

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader, Bokuto Koutarou x Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Disclaimer: This is based on the movie directed by Phyllida Loyd and written by Catherine Johnson which is inspired by the music of the pop group ABBA.

catch up here!

Maiko’s bachelorette party was in full swing. Everybody danced and swayed their bodies to the rhythm of the song. She downed a shot of some hard liquor passed on to her by Eri. It burned the back of her throat but she didn’t care.

Just as the song ended, there was complete silence. Everyone waited for the music to come back, but it didn’t. Then Yoshiko’s voice was heard loud and clear through the speakers.

“Ladies, and no gentlemen, presenting the best girl power group to ever walk the earth,” there was a drumroll as everyone waited with bated breath, “Shojotai!”

Maiko has only ever heard of that group in stories exchanged between you and your friends. She couldn't stop the excited squeal that left her lips when you, Yoshiko and Rika emerged from the main villa doors, wearing extremely sparkly and glittery outfits which she assumed was all that during your college days.

The three of you positioned yourselves in the middle of the courtyard, ready to perform. Shojotai is the name of your girl group ever since the three of you met in junior high. You’ve continued it all throughout your high school lives—even until college—and you all used to perform for every single occasion of your class.

As the first few beats of the song started, you gave Maiko a small wink. She's witnessed you belt out songs before but she hasn't seen you perform on this kind of level.

All the ladies danced and vibed to the song as they cheered for the three of you. This song was a classic and it's one of your favorite songs to perform as you can be as silly as you want without ruining the performance. 

The three of you blended and sang to the crowd. You couldn't help but dedicate a certain part of the song to your daughter, caressing her cheek as you sang to her. She kissed the palm of your hand in gratitude. When you turned away to meet in the middle once again, you noticed three looming figures at the back of the party.

You glanced over at them and, as if mocking you, Kuroo was dancing—albeit quite terribly—to the song. You rolled your eyes at him but you weren't sure if he saw.

Why are they still here?! I thought they already left! Has Maiko noticed already? They need to leave, ASAP., you screamed in your head while trying to maintain your happy demeanor. Just as your choreography required you to turn around, you had managed to whisper to your two best friends to look towards where the three men were.

You continued with the rest of the song, making wild gestures here and there—things you know will embarrass Maiko—to keep her attention on you. The sight of her mortified face peeking in between her fingers made you laugh. After a few more verses, the song had come to an end.

The crowd cheered for the three of you loudly. Maiko screamed the loudest and she couldn't help but run up to you and give you a tight hug.

"You were amazing!" She beamed, jumping up and down. You gave her a tight-lipped smile and a slightly stiff hug.

"I think I need some air. I'll see you later, Maiko-chan." In a haste, you pecked her forehead affectionately and exited towards the main villa doors. Maiko looked towards where you disappeared to, confused. Was it something she said?

"Excuse me! Yoohoo!" Rika said into the mic, getting the attention of Kuroo. Oikawa and Bokuto. "This is a hen party. Women only. Thank you." She smiled sarcastically and motioned her hand to shoo them away. The whole crowd was now looking at them which felt uneasy. Kuroo smiled apologetically, waving his hand in surrender. He turned to leave with the other two copying his actions. 

Yoshiko patted Rika's shoulder proudly as they went to the main villa to go after you. Maiko could only stare at the scene. Tonight's not going to be good.

***

"Oh god! Why are they here? What if they ruin Maiko’s wedding?" You paced around the room, nipping at your nails nervously.

"But I thought you weren't so keen on this wedding?" Yoshiko asked. She was right. You didn't want this wedding to happen at all. It's not that you don't like Minoru—the kid's too nice to be honest—but you just think that getting married so young would result to regrets and you didn't want that for Maiko. But what could you do? Your daughter was as headstrong as you were when you were her age.

"I know that. But I don't want them spoiling it." Rika handed you a cold beer she had snatched from the bar after your performance. She just had a hunch that you'd need a few drinks to get you through the night. You took the drink from her and took a long sip. 

"They don't have the right to turn up like this! What have they ever done for their daughter, huh?"

"How could they, Y/N-chan? They didn't know she existed." Rika stated matter of factly.

"They didn't need to know did they? I've done a great job with Maiko all by myself and I won't be replaced!"

—

Meanwhile, Bokuto and Oikawa headed to the bar to get a few drinks before heading out. They didn't expect for Maiko's whole party to pull them away from said bar and back to the courtyard. The two men were pushed against the poles of the awning with their hands tied behind their backs.

The girls started running their hands across their toned bodies. Bokuto was loving the attention and Oikawa did his best not to. Kuroo had managed to escape, opting to take a walk nearby and just have some peace and quiet.

—

"Aaargh!" You shouted your frustrations into the night as you pushed open the window to let in some fresh air. You then plopped beside Yoshiko and Rika who were almost passed out both from the performance you did earlier as well as the flight of steps it took to get to their villa.

"Someone must hate me up there." You muttered pointing at the ceiling. "Must be my mother."

"Wasn't she a ray of sunshine, huh?" Rika commented.

"I need to get them out of here." You scrambled to get up from the bed but your friends stopped you.

"If you go in and confront them head on, there're gonna be some questions." Yoshiko said as she groaned in pain. "Help me out of these boots, please. My feet are killing me!"

You and Rika each took one of Yoshiko's legs and started yanking on the knee-high boots she decided to wear. The both of you did your best to get them off as you heaved and grunted with all your mights. 

"What if we get them wasted tonight," Rika said, gripping tightly to the boot, "And then take them fishing tomorrow?"

"Fishing!" Yoshiko said exasperatingly. She scoffed at the idea.

"Well, what do you suggest we do with three men?"

Just as the question had left Rika's mouth, the both of you had managed to take off the damn boots. The force that did it made you and Rika fly slightly across the room.

"Three men? Wow." Yoshiko said dreamily. "Now that takes me way back."

tags: @yikes-buddy / @ushi-please / @melodiamore / @akaashi-todorki / @honeymoneyy / @minty-mangos-world / @ochabby / @paettonissahotcheeto / @chrisrue15 / @cottage-babe2 / @tsukkx / @yashinosakura / @coconut-dreamz​ / @roseestuosity / @youstydiaa / @shiningstar-byulxx / @mkkhaikyuu / @waywardtrashfam / @otaku-fangirlse / @juni-multifandom / @voids-universe / @chimsblogg / @1-800-imagine 

a/n: aaaaaaaaand, i’m alive! i’m so sooooo sorry for not posting in a long time. i’ve been distracted by an oikawa, iwaizumi, ushijima and sakusa (all separated) fics i’ve been writing on the sidelines, that’s why it took me longer to update.

by the time i was done writing the chapter, i realized that i was actually wriitng chapter 6 and not 5! so i had to start all over. that’s why y’all are getting a double posting today! yay! i do apologize if this chapter seems a bit rushed, hehe. i had a bit of difficulty writing the super trouper scene.

like always, i’m sorry for the mistakes and the slight (or major, i’m not sure anymore) ooc of some of the characters. hope u still like ‘em!

[imagineseclipse]

Spider-Man/Peter Parker x Reader- My peace and Quiet

Listen to: La Lune- Billie Marten

Your head snapped up from the colouring book that you were scribbling in, you narrowed your eyes as you practically crawled over to your tv turning it up to the loudest volume possible as the news reporter flashed onto the screen. Reporting a story that hit you close to home, literally.

Within seconds your heartbeat started to increase as you watched Spider-Man and Iron man fly through the air, defending the city yet again against a crazy creature that was causing chaos you felt your fingers involuntarily reach up to trace the screen gently.

You jumped back slightly away from the tv as a loud explosion boomed through your speakers.

“Jesus Christ”you whispered out, your eyes widening as a sick feeling washed over you. You shut your eyes tight, letting out a shaky breath. In the end you decided to just switch the television off all together knowing that if you watched any longer you would have a panic attack.

You pushed yourself up from your carpet, slowly walking over to your window using your minimal strength to crack it open, letting a gust of wind break free into your room. Your hair blew wild for a second, and then all at once it settled.

Your tired eyes scanned the view in front of you, you lived in an apartment building, on the twelfth floor to be exact. For the time being you were living alone, your mother was abroad taking a well needed break after working endless hours at the local hospital.

You listened to the city below you, listening to the cars and the planes above you, you watched as the evening sky grew darker and darker and this nagging feeling in your stomach just wouldn’t go away.

Soon enough the musky pink sky had been replaced by twinkling stars, the cityscape was really beautiful to you, it had always helped relax you when you were feeling a bit stressed however this time you felt the knot in your chest get worse.

There was something about this moment of silence that was terrifying to you, especially after that news report.

You inhaled once more before taking a step away from the window, retreating back to the comfort of your bed. Just as you were about to throw yourself back onto your mattress there was a crash at your window. A pair of hands wrapped onto your window ledge as you blinked several times, wondering if you were seeing things.

Finally you decided to scurry over to the source of the noise, poking your head out of the open space underneath your window. At first you couldn’t see much because your hair was blowing in your face but when you eventually cleared your sight you groaned with relief at the figure hanging from your building.

“Get in here damn it”you mumbled, wrapping your hand around the familiar wrist, pulling it into the warmth of your bedroom.

When you saw that he was safely sprawled out on your carpet you immediately slammed the window shut, throwing your curtains together for safety.

There were holes burnt into his suit and you could see his wounds, it made you flinch and you weren’t the one bleeding. You positioned yourself down by his side as he panted quickly. You so desperately wanted to touch him, but you were afraid to.

“Hey, I’m okay y/n, I can practically feel the worried look on your face”he spoke out after minutes of a comfortable silence.

“This isn’t a joke, look at you”you shook your head as you leant back on your bed, resting your elbows on your knees. He slowly made his way to the right side of you, almost mirroring your actions.

“What’s gotten you so worked up, you know I’ll be fine”his shoulder touched yours, and his voice was soothing through his mask.

“I-I just thought that you weren’t gonna mak-

“I told you to stop watching the news”he exclaimed, shaking his head.

“Well you’re freaking Spider-Man it’s hard to avoid it!”you raised your voice slightly, he felt butterflies in his stomach after hearing the crack in your voice. He didn’t realise that you cared so much.

Okay, so maybe you had been keeping a small tiny secret, and maybe you had kept your window open for a reason. For months now the famous Spider-man had been dropping by...literally after falling into your window one day accidentally. He decided to make light of the situation by making friendly conversation with you at three in the morning.

After a while he would find himself swinging through the city back to you whenever he could, you were his safe place. However you only knew Spider-man, you hadn’t yet met the boy underneath and this was a mutual decision, he was afraid of danger finding you, if something were to happen to you he would lose his mind. Being in the same room as you was dangerous enough. Sometimes when you were out in the city he’d watch over you, just in case because he knew better than anyone that you can never be too careful.

And you didn’t want him to put himself in danger so you let him stay anonymous, although at this point it was pretty clear that wherever Spider-man was danger wasn’t far behind.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”you asked quietly after your small outburst. He looked down at you through his red mask, watching as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

It was times like these where he was thankful that he was wearing a mask, a small blush creeping up onto his cheeks as you looked up at him once again, waiting for his reply.

“I don’t wanna talk about it just yet, I wanna hear about your day”he answered, nudging you playfully. You hesitated before sending him a sweet smile proceeding to tell him about your day like he wanted.

He could listen to you talk for hours, it was his favourite sound. He found himself getting lost in your words because a second later you were waving your hand in front of his face trying to get his attention.

“Spidey, hey dude”you called out, waving your hand frantically.

“I told you to stop calling me that”he chuckled lightly before turning to face you.

“I asked you a question”you hummed back.

“Oh, yeah go on ask me again you have my undivided attention”he nodded, his full attention on you.

“I mean, not that I have a problem with it because obviously I don’t but I was just wondering wh-why you keep coming back here I mean you’re The Spider-Man and I’m just- well I’m just me I’m sure there are other people you’d rather be with”you started to ramble nervously.

Spider-Man wasn’t expecting this question, in fact for the first time in a while he was speechless.

“I-I uh guess you’re my peace and quiet”he responded slowly. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and it didn’t go unnoticed.

He began to talk again, this time you could tell he was being serious by the tone in his voice.

“See my life is pretty chaotic and it doesn’t make sense at all, but you- y/n you’re the only thing in my life that makes sense right now. Everyday I wake up and the first thing I think about is you I always just want to come here and be with you. Before I met you I wasn’t afraid of dying but now I know you I’m scared, I’m scared because I don’t want to leave you alone I don’t wanna die and not be around you”he confessed finally, this had been playing on his mind for months and now that you knew how he felt he could breath properly. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Just before you could tell him how you felt he sprung up off the floor, lifting his hand up to his mask. You followed his actions, jumping up in front of him, but you placed your hand on his stopping him from whatever he was about to do.

Electricity flashed up through his arm as he felt your hand on his.

“Woah woah woah, What are you doing!?”you asked with widened eyes.

“I’m taking my mask off y/n”he sighed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But we agree-

“Agreement terminated, I want to be with you not just as Spider-Man but as Peter Parker”he revealed as he snatched off his mask before you could stop him, your hands remained in his as you took in his appearance.

He was gorgeous to you, his brown floppy hair fell over his eyes a little as sweat dripped from his forehead there was a small cut situated on his cheek bone but you didn’t mind. His brown eyes flickered down to yours as a small lopsided smile made its way onto his face.

“Peter Parker, I like it”you grinned, not realising that you were falling in love with the same person all over again.

He flashed you a goofy grin before pressing his lips into yours abruptly, sending you stumbling backwards slightly. His arms wrapped around your body tightly so that you wouldn’t fall as you returned the kiss. Of course you would return the kiss. It was short and sweet but to the two of you it lasted a lifetime.

“I don’t want you to go”you whispered after pulling away. He rested his head against yours, tracing his thumb over your own.

“I don’t want to leave”he replied.

“Then stay”you pleaded quietly. He looked down at you once more, this time you noticed the twinkle in his eye. He nodded in response before he watched you retreat to your wardrobe pulling out a hoodie and some comfortable trousers for him to change into.

You rolled your eyes at the sight of his wounds.

“Please just let me take care of those”you raised your eyebrow at your other half.

“Would it make you feel better if you did?”he smirked.

“I feel great already but yes, God yes just let me patch you up besides you can’t actually walk around battered and bruised people will ask questions”you explained as you pulled out the first aid kit from under your bed.

“This is why I love you”he placed a small kiss on your forehead as you began to clean his cuts.

“I love you too, Peter Parker”

“Why are you saying my name like that?”

“Alliteration”you simply stated.

[kivaember]

Plot: In a politcal plot to remove Aymeric from power, the house of lords votes to change his job title to traveling diplomat and sends him to kugane.

(okay i just wrote something for it instead uuuuuuuuuuh no regrets??? man tempted to do a few oneshots of WoL/Aym in Kugane and see how that goes)

“By majority vote,” Artoirel said in a quietly apologetictone, “You have been nominated as Ishgard’s official ambassador to Kugane. Youare expected to report to your new posting by the end of this month, sailingschedules permitting.”

Lucia drew in a sharp breath through her clenched teeth.Aymeric ignored it. He did not flinch, kept his expression one of cool neutralityas he quietly absorbed the blow Artoirel had delivered him. He should begrateful that this had been done in the privacy of his office, and not in thevery public space of the House of Lords session he was meant to be attending inthe next hour. Artoirel himself looked rumpled, as if he had ran here themoment he heard Aymeric had returned from his inspection of Dzaemel Darkhold.

He shouldn’t be surprised. There had been many debates onwho to send as part of the contribution to diplomatic mission in Kugane. TheEorzean Alliance had established an embassy there, eager to try and secure afoothold there to allow better communication and diplomacy with their new Domanally, and sent the call for each City State to contribute. Various names hadbeen drawn up in both Houses, but Aymeric’s had been bandied about the most.

Logically, it made sense: he was charismatic and well knownfor his political acumen. He also had a genuine interest in expanding Ishgard’sforeign ties, was friendly and culturally sensitive to foreigners, and was oneof the loudest supporters for the Eorzean Alliance – and had several enemies inboth Houses that would enjoy neutralising him by sending him as far away asphysically possible without launching him into space. He had already provenhimself too troublesome to cleanly assassinate.

Aymeric folded his hands on his desk, very carefullycompartmentalising his personal feelings on the matter and forced himself toregard it with cold calculation. In all honesty he was impressed at the cunningof this plan – he had been aware there was a voting session whilst he was oninspection, but as it didn’t pertain to any high-profile proposals orlegislation, hadn’t paid much mind to it. If he had known…

Well, what could he have done? From the sounds of it thishad been a plan long in the making and the votes already decided before thedebate had even begun. The majority of Ishgard’s MPs wanted him out of Ishgardand causing trouble for other people. He should, in fact, look at this as anopportunity. He was already coming to the end of his term as Speaker – he hadbeen elected twice, already, and their constitution stated that one could onlydo two consecutive terms at a time – and he had been considering whether to revertto being mainly the Lord Commander or becoming a full-time politician.

It was a prestigious position, on paper. He should behonoured that he was chosen to represent Ishgard and strengthen their ties withtheir allies.

He should be.

(he wasn’t)

“I see,” Aymeric finally said, when three full minutes ofsilence stretched between them, “Thank you for informing me, Lord Artoirel.Should I assume that my presence is therefore not needed in the upcomingsession?”

Artoirel dipped his head, “Correct. It has been decided thatI will carry out the remainder of your duties until the next Speaker is chosenin the upcoming month.”

Aymeric relaxed a fraction at that. At least his exile hadn’twrenched a hole open for the likes of Lord Dounon to slither into, “Am I ableto nominate a successor for Lord Commander, or has that too been decidedwithout me?”

Artoirel winced slightly at that, “If you are able tonominate a successor that meets the Houses’ approval in the next week-”

“Lucia,” Aymeric said instantly.

“Sir,” Luciaprotested, “I am-”

“More than acceptable,” Aymeric said shortly, “LordArtoirel, if the Houses’ have a complaint on my successor, feel free to directthem to myself. Notwithstanding her origins, she has proven herself time andagain as a loyal soldier of Ishgard, unflinching in her service and diligent inher duties. I will accept none other as my successor, if only because she hasbeen carrying out the Lord Commander duties on my behalf for the past few yearsso I know she can do it. She has proven herself.”

A grim kind of humour flickered across Artoirel’s face asLucia stood in stunned silence, “I am sure no one will protest, sir.”

“I will protest,”Lucia said immediately, “Sir, my place is at your side.”

“You would be better served here, Lucia,” Aymeric said, “Irefuse to relinquish this seat to someone who would abuse it. I know I cantrust you with Ishgard and the Temple Knight’s best interests.”

Lucia wavered, but after a pause where Aymeric met her gaze evenly,her shoulders slumped and she inclined her head with a soft, unhappy, “Understood,sir.”

“I shall leave you to your preparations, Lord Commander,”Artoirel said, rising from his seat, “I wish you luck in your new position.”

The door that clicked shut behind the departing Artoirelsounded damningly final. Silence reigned again, until slowly, Aymeric pushedhis seat back and stood up.

Lucia watched him with wary eyes, “Sir?”

“Pardon me, Lucia,” he said with a strange, unsteady sort ofcalm, “I need a moment to collect my thoughts. Please take over my duties untilI return.”

“… yes, sir.”

Aymeric barely remembered the walk back to his home. Hismind was too busy spinning over how he had been exiled from a home he had shed sweat, blood and tears over for all hislife. Should he be surprised, though? From the moment Lord Borel had raised himup from one of the many unwanted, faceless orphans that clogged up the Brume,Aymeric had always had to viciously fight and defend his place in a world thatwas determined to shut him out, had always had to dig his heels in so he wasn’ttossed aside. No one had believed he would amount to anything more than alow-rank knight – and even then, that had been considered too good for a bastardlike him. But he had proven them wrong – had forced them to look at him and admit he was better than his peers who came from good stock.

That did not come from being passive and earnest. Aymerichad to be more ruthless, more calculating and smarter and stronger and moreskilled to achieve his goals. He had crushed more than a few noble hopefulsunder his heel to claw his way into the position of Lord Commander, and while hewas eventually, grudgingly,acknowledged… he was never accepted.

He’d gotten complacent, he realised. He thought things hadchanged enough that he could relax into a position he made himself and not worry about having to continuously prove hisworth to remain there. He was elected! They wanted him there! They wanted him there!

Hah. What a lie he told himself.

When he reached home, he stood in the front hallway for along while, feeling adrift. He should start getting his affairs in order. Heneeded to see if he could transfer his funds from the Ishgardian bank to whateverthe equivalent was in Kugane, he needed to find which ports directly travelledto Kugane, he needed to pack and whatwas he going to do with this house? Should he place everything in storage? Lasthe heard the diplomatic mission in Kugane was a three year posting, but what ifthey just continuously renewed his place there? He’d never come home and thenwhat? There was so much to consider in so short a time – transporting hisbelongings would have to be done the slow way, by ship, even if he possessedjust enough anima and aetherical control to teleport to Kugane. Though it tooka lot out of him and he had to take a day to sleep it off and-

Aymeric closed his eyes and stopped his thoughts, taking adeep, long breath.

…

He couldn’t believe he had been exiled.

Realising he wasn’t going to get anything done, Aymeric satdown on the bottom step of his stairwell and stared at his hands. If this hadhappened differently, if this had been a choiceof his, he knew he would be excited and eager to carry out a diplomatic missionin a foreign country. But it wasn’t his choice. It was a thinly veiledrejection, of the Houses coming together and saying ‘thanks for everything butwe don’t want you here anymore so go be someone else’s problem’, and that…

That really hurt.

Aymeric gently prodded that hurt for a moment and sighed. Itsounded childish even to him. No doubt there were more than a few who genuinelythought he was the best man for the job, who probably thought he’d be overjoyedat such a posting, but emotions rarely took logic into consideration, so he wasleft with a throat-clenching, chest-tightening ache that he had to breathe throughslowly.

He’d get over it, he told himself as he rubbed roughly athis face. He always got over it. He just needed to think how this would be adelightful change of pace, and how it opened so many new opportunities andexperiences for him. He would enjoyit, the initial pain of sorting his admin out aside, and it might, potentially,mean more time with Aza-

-shit. Aza. Aza hated Kugane.

It felt like a stone had dropped hard into the bottom of hisstomach. Aza refused to go to Kuganeunless it was absolutely vital for work or to fulfil a favour for a friend. IfAymeric was trapped there full time, would Aza go against his understandableand visceral hatred of the place to visit him? Even if he did, would Aymericeven ask him of that? It seemed cruel, and he couldn’t force Aza to besomewhere he hated. He would hate it, Aza would hate it, and they’d be equallymiserable.

For a very brief, desperate moment, Aymeric was actuallytempted to do something drastic like commit political suicide and force theHouses to elect someone more ‘proper’… only to realise that they’d probablysend him anyways as punishment for whatever he did. He anxiously stood up,paced the width of his front hallway, and sat down again, feeling a caged animal.

He should call Aza.

Forcing himself to push away his unsettled emotions andfocus, he tapped at his linkpearl, reaching for his partner’s frequency. He wasat Camp Dragonhead today, helping Lord Emmanellain with some task or other, sothe connection should be stable enough without enduring static-

“Hello?”

“Aza,” Aymeric murmured, feeling his stomach do somethingvery weird and potentially medically unhealthy, like it couldn’t decide whetherto twist or sink, “Hello, love.”

“Aym?” Aza’s surprisewas understandable. Aymeric only tended to call his linkpearl for long absencesor emergencies, “What’s wrong? Are youokay?”

“I’m-” he found himself incapable of finishing. He was fine, but also not. He also feltinexplicably foolish. Aza was supposed to be back by dusk, and it seemedridiculous to call him in the middle of work simply because Aymeric’s feelingswere hurt over a reassignment. It wasn’t pressing, or an emergency, and couldvery easily wait for that evening when Aymeric didn’t feel so raw about it.

“It’s nothing,” he said instead, “I’m sorry if I distractedyou. I’ll speak to you to-”

“Bullshit,” Aza interruptedsharply, “Aym, you sound really fucking upset. What happened? Do I have tokill someone?”

“I- do not sound upset,” Aymeric said unconvincingly, becausehe sounded strained even to his own ears, “No one needs to be killed either.”Unless Aza was willing to eliminate the entirety of Ishgard’s government, thatis.

(Terrifyingly, Aymeric knew Aza would do that, for him, but it was best not to dwell on those things)

“You sure?” Aza’stone gentled, “C’mon, tell me what’swrong. I’m just sitting here watching people fail at mining, so I can talk. Youwon’t be bothering me.”

Fail at mining? “How can you fail at mining?”

“Easily, if you’re a CampDragonhead knight, apparently. They keep fucking up the extraction ofdarksteel,” Aza sighed, “Amateurs,honestly. I’m gonna wait for a few hours before putting them out of theirmisery.”

Aymeric was half-tempted to ask about how one exactly ‘fuckedup the extraction of darksteel’, but that would be procrastinating and both ofthem knew it. Aza would indulge him, but Aymeric really shouldn’t try talkingcircles about this. He took a moment.

Aza patiently waited. On his end he could hear the softcrackle of the aether connection, distant, muffled shouts and the howl of astrong wind.

“… I’m… I’m no longer the Speaker of the House of Lords,” Aymericfinally said, surprised at how much it hurt to say that aloud. It was more realwhen he actually said and acknowledged it.

“You’re… how?” Azagasped, “I thought you had another twomonths!”

“It seems,” Aymeric muttered, his voice brittle, “That theHouses unanimously agreed that I would be better served in Kugane as Ishgard’srepresentative in the Eorzean Alliance’s embassy.”

“They’re kicking youout of Ishgard!?” Aza hissed,understanding immediately, “They can’t dothat! You’re the reason their government isn’t a steaming pile of shit rightnow! You single-handedly-”

“I cannot claim all the credit for Ishgard’s recentsuccesses,” Aymeric said tiredly, “I’m not that arrogant to think the governmentrevolves around me. No, I…” he paused and then continued with a conviction hedidn’t feel, “I have fulfilled my purpose here, and can… do more in Kugane. It’sfine. It’s a prestigious position to have and they clearly think I can do wellin it. It… it will go well.”

“…” Aza sighed, “Aym, you don’t have to lie to me.”

Aymeric felt awful. He wanted this conversationface-to-face. He should have waited, “I’m not lying.”

“You are,” Azasaid firmly, “You’re upset, so be upset.Why else did you call me? C’mon.”

“To give you the good news?” Aymeric croaked out.

“You didn’t even tryto sound sincere then,” Aza said, unimpressed, “Look, I’ll come home right now-”

“You hate Kugane,” Aymeric blurted.

“What?”

“You hate Kugane,” Aymeric repeated, “So, if I’m there… you-”

“Gods, Aym,” Azasounded like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or yell at him, “Yeah, I hate it, but… shit. I won’t letthat stop me from visiting you or hogging your blankets. You’ll have to pry meout of your bed almost every morning, same as usual.”

“But,” Aymeric began and… faltered, because that part of Aza’spast was always a taboo subject, “Your history…”

“Was over twenty yearsago,” Aza murmured so quietly Aymeric almost didn’t hear him, “I… I’ll be okay. For you, I’ll be okay. Imean, try to have your living quarters as Eorzean as possible and don’t startdressing like a Doman, but… yeah, it’ll be fine.”

Aymeric wavered, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Aza soundedlike he was smiling, “You’re totallyworth a bit of discomfort, handsome. You just gotta be extra distracting whenever I visit, okay?”

“Easily done,” Aymeric said with unspeakable relief. Thatwas one burden eased from hisshoulders, at least.

“Was that the onlything that was upsetting you?”

Aymeric hesitated, but confessed, “No. I’m… there is more.”

“Okay,” Aza’svoice was gentle, “Let me show these guyshow to mine, and I’ll be home within the hour so we can talk properly, alright?”

“Alright,” Aymeric almost whispered, “Don’t needlessly rush.I can wait.”

“Pfft. No, you can’t. You’remore important to me than a bunch of stupid rocks. Go make your birch tea shitand go relax. I’ll be with you soon.”

“It’s not ‘birch tea shit’,” Aymeric grumbled, “It’s-”

“Love you, handsome!”Aza cut over him cheerily, and made a noisy kissing noise down the line, “Talk to you soon!”

“Aza-”

‘Click!’

Aymeric lowered his fingers from the linkpearl at thatrather rude hang up and sat there for a moment. He felt, surprisingly, a littlebetter. The hurt was beginning to slowly give way to simmering, ugly resentmentand indignation, but Aymeric put a lid on that for when Aza came home and stoodup.

He still felt adrift. He still felt as stunned as if he’djust taken a knife to the back, but… at least he knew Aza would still be withhim, every step of the way. And he’d recover from this. He always bounced backfrom shit like this, from people determined to declaw him and render himharmless. He just needed to brush the dust off his more… ruthless tendencies.

Deep breath. Exhale.

Good.

With his head lifted high, Aymeric made for the kitchens to makehis ‘birch tea shit’, to prepare for his new political battlefield.  

[purplednail]

Faith: A Personal Journey to Understanding

by Thomas A Ernst, Peoria, Arizona

My six siblings and I had the privilege of being raised by godly parents in a Christian home. From a very early age, we memorized Scripture – whole chapters or individual verses. Our parents believed the words of the Psalmist: “Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against thee” ~ Psalm 119:11. Now, as I draw closer to the finish line of this life, Paul’s words come to mind “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith” 2 Timothy 4:7.

It would be nice to be able to define with understanding, exactly what it is that Paul kept; don’t you think? How many who claim “faith” as an integral part of their lives can actually define it? Yet, it is to be the bedrock as well as the guiding light of our lives. “The just shall live by faith” ~Habakkuk 2:4 – and repeated at least three times in the New Testament. Can you define it? In order to define it we have to understand it. Too many use a synonym to put substance to faith: belief or trust. If we are honest with ourselves, while those words have meaning and indeed are facets of faith they don’t convey the understanding we need for a definition. Then again there are those who are satisfied with a cursory definition and ask, “What’s the big deal?” “Why is being able to define something so important?”

It has been said (when and by whom other than here and by me, I have no clue) that if you can’t define something then you don’t really understand it. In other words, definition and understanding are integral to each other. I believe that. I’m a math teacher and there are basically two ways to teach math: by rote i.e. learn the formula etc or by understanding. The US is failing miserably in its educational attempts to bring students to understanding. The reason, in my humble opinion, is because you cannot fully engage the mind in the latter without a rudimentary knowledge of the former, meaning memorized math facts. It would be like trying to get a child to increase their reading comprehension skills without ever having learned to read – yeah, that’s the elephant in the Language Arts room. We’re failing at understanding because we haven’t learned the basics. That holds true pretty much across the board. You don’t want a doctor who has simply memorized the symptoms coupled with disease names and the correct pharmaceutical aid that will help solve the problem. No, you want a doctor that understands how the body works and why certain drugs have good affects and others don’t. The same is true with “faith”. If we don’t understand it; if we can’t define it; then, how can we use it to live? Consider these verses:

“To each is given a measure of faith…” ~Romans 12:3.

“Faith without works is dead…” ~James 2:26.

“Without faith it is impossible to please God…” ~Hebrews 11:6.

“Walk by faith and not by sight…” ~2 Corinthians 5:7.

“Faith comes by hearing…” ~Romans 10:17.

“If you have faith the size of a mustard seed …” ~Matthew 17:20.

“When the son of man comes, will he find faith on the earth…” ~Luke 18:8.

Note that last one. What a sobering thought!

I can remember asking the question of my dad during our home bible study: “What is faith?” He answered with a quote from Scripture. Unsatisfied, I asked the same question of my Sunday School teacher: “What is faith?” He too answered with Scripture. As a young teen, I was part of a larger group of young people called Youth for Christ. It was a national organization seeking to evangelize and bring young people into a relationship with God. At one of our bible studies, I again raised my question to the leader: “What is faith?” and again the response was Scripture. Interestingly enough all the quotes as answers to my question were from the Faith Chapter, Hebrews 11 – a chapter my siblings and I had memorized years before. “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” ~Hebrews 11:1. I came away from each of those encounters with two thoughts: First, I was impressed with the spiritual depth of those answering and second, with my own lack of depth because I still didn’t get it; and, it wouldn’t be until years later that I came to understand that they didn’t get it either!

Fast-forward a number of years. I’m now in my 40’s, a Pastor leading a small bible study and someone raises the question: “Pastor, what is faith?” Wouldn’t you know it! I stepped into the same void of lack of understanding as my mentors had and I answered with Scripture: “Faith is the substance of things hoped for the evidence of things unseen”. At that point I knew that just as I didn’t know the definition of faith, my mentors didn’t either. I locked myself in my study and tried to bring understanding to my lack of the same. I had lots of books and I perused them diligently and I gleaned a lot of opinions but no concrete definition that would satisfy and solve this spiritual equation.

Over the years, one of the things I have learned both by books and by experience is that the meaning of stated thoughts is in the mind of the author. In other words, your perception of what I said may or may not match what I meant. Now get this because our Society is giving lie to this great truth: our perception is not necessarily the meaning. Our perception may be wrong. We have filters, rose tinted glasses if you will; and, things we hear someone say pass through those filters in being processed into what we understand as what the speaker meant. We can be spot on or miss it completely or anything in-between. Today, perception is King – meaning be damned! Listen to the Pundits espouse on what someone meant: Spin, obfuscation, fake news and bold-faced lies all pass as the true meaning of what the speaker meant and the reality is, in all probability none of it is! When was the last time you heard someone ask for clarification about something that was said? Most times the speaker is never given the chance to explain as the spinners rush to be the loudest voice in denouncing the speaker. It’s everywhere: Politics, Media, Courts, Business board meetings and now to the detriment of all, Social Media! Don’t get me started on the morass of “I misspoke” – what the heck does that mean?

Truth lies trampled in the streets (Isaiah 59:14), meaning and even intent be damned!

“When the son of man comes, will he find faith on the earth…?” Will he find faith on the earth? Pastor, what is faith? I was ashamed because I had given the stock Christian response bolstered by the use of Scripture. I was determined to find out; yet, my search in others’ understanding or lack of it proved futile. Finally I remembered: Meaning is in the mind of the author. So simple. So profound yet I had never asked the Author, What is faith? “Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith…” ~Hebrews 12:2. There is no doubt, at least among Christians, that Jesus lived a life of faith. “Search the Scriptures” he said, “These are they which testify of me…” ~John 5:39. He said, “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free…” ~John 8:32. So, I searched the Scriptures and I asked the Author “What is faith?” And He showed me. He answered me and helped me create a definition. Welcome to my journey!

According to the verse most quoted in giving definition to faith, Hebrews 11:1, faith is a gateway to understanding our world. Whether the world viewed through a telescope or the one viewed through a microscope or the one seen with the naked eye “Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God”. In other words, without faith as a component there will be no understanding of our universe. Stephen Hawking, noted intellectual physicist, set out to understand the origins of our universe; and, in his latest book, published after his death, he concluded: “There is no God”. In spite of his astounding intellect, he missed it completely. The shepherd king, David, said, “The heavens declare the glory of God the firmament shows his handiwork. Day unto day utters speech and night unto night shows knowledge. There is no speech nor language where his voice is not heard” ~Psalm 19:1-3. David marveled at it, Stephen missed it. Both had a measure of faith. Both saw the same things, although Stephen saw with greater depth and clarity of physical sight i.e. the Hubble telescope. Faith, understanding it, defining it or exercising it is not a matter of degree of intellect. The critical question becomes: “Is faith an integral part of our understanding?” – spiritual and physical!

Why is faith so important? I know a few people who couldn’t care less about understanding the universe. So, what’s the big deal? Well, according to that writer of Hebrews 11; “Without faith it is impossible to please God” ~Hebrews 11:6. And if God’s not pleased and we’re trying to please Him with our good works and do so without faith, it’s a bit like arranging deck chairs on the Titanic. It’s futile. Our end is certain doom because if God’s not pleased, we’re toast – um…literally!

You’ve been very patient in wading through all this to this point and I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. When I searched the scriptures for meaning of faith I looked specifically at Jesus. I then compared what I found out about His life with those other “heroes of the faith” mentioned in Hebrews 11. Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham and others. Lo and behold, their experiences matched what I found out about Jesus. Their “walk of faith” had the same components. Understanding personal faith reveals why Abel is a faith-hero and Cain is not. Why Jacob is in that list and Enoch is not.

Here is what I found:

Jesus said, “I only do what God shows me to do” ~John 5:19. And “I only say what God tells me to say” ~John 8:28. In other words, Jesus said and did what God told Him to say and do. He told His disciples, “Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God” ~Matthew 4:4. We are also instructed by the Apostle Paul that “Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the word of God” ~Romans 10:17. Faith then, is a result of hearing the word of God.

In New Testament era Greek, there are two words translated as “word” in English: Those Greek words are Logos and Rhema. Logos is universal, meaning everything said; and, Rhema is specific to time and place. Both are used in relation to God’s speaking and both are used in relation to faith. In our simplified understanding, Logos would be the Bible, and the works of creation and Rhema would be specific words that God reveals to us. Now, those specific words, Rhema, can come from anywhere or anyone; but, there is a knowing in our spirit that the Author is God. I have at times been rebuked by a kind word from someone but the knowledge in my spirit was that it was a rebuke or encouragement, as the case may be, from God. Yes, He still speaks and when He does it’s Rhema, specific to our cause, need or situation. Jesus lived by both the Logos and the Rhema the general and the specific. He did so everyday of His life; He lived, he walked by faith. When you look at the Old Testament heroes of faith, the Old Testament prophets or the New Testament disciples and apostles you see they did the same. Paul knew the Logos from God but he wasn’t applying it until he received a Rhema on his way to Damascus and was converted. How can we define that? In the former he heard (in a general sense of understanding) in the latter he heeded the specific word. That was his faith in action. Had he ignored and not heeded he would not have been converted. That’s why James can say with power that faith without a result (i.e. works) is dead. A lot of people know what the Bible says but they don’t heed it – a difference between darkness and light. James went on to say that even the devils believe and they tremble ~James 2:19. So faith is more than the synonym “believe” “He that has ears to hear let him hear [heed]…” ~Matthew 11:5.

When we take all that Jesus is and did and then take the Scriptures that teach us that faith is rooted in God’s Logos and Rhema we can define it. Now, doing so may limit the ability of faith to grow beyond a static definition that is why care must be exercised and we must realize that a definition is often only the starting point of deeper understanding. Like the mustard seed that becomes a gigantic plant. Our definition is just the seed. Here it is:

Faith is HEARING a WORD (Logos and Rhema) FROM God; and, HEEDING the WILL of God. Not with the HEAD but from the HEART!

That truth has given me a freedom to understand that I had never experienced. Check it out and then ask God to make the definition unique to you.

[weldonturner]

New Post has been published on Weldon Turner

New Post has been published on http://www.weldonturner.com/the-luxury-of-atheism/

The Luxury of Atheism

Author and atheist, Christopher Hitchens

  While researching the life of the nineteenth century itinerant preacher and abolitionist Sojourner Truth, for an upcoming blog, it became extremely clear that   many of the giants of the abolitionist movement in the United States had a strong Christ-centered faith.  Sojourner Truth was a lay preacher. The famous abolitionist Frederick Douglass, and Harriet Tubman—the Moses of her people—both had a strong faith in Jesus Christ. The relationship between the Black Church and the fight for freedom continued into the 20th century, where the church and the Civil Rights Movement remained practically inseparable.

How is it then that those for whom life has been so extraordinarily difficult and unfair, by any stretch of the imagination, could have had such an unwavering belief in God—in Jesus Christ, specifically? Simultaneously, the loudest voices advocating atheism—of a belief in no God–tend to come from men and women of privilege, particularly from academia? The search for an answer to this question precipitated this post.

I originally intended to write the piece as a simple stream consciousness—an uncomplicated, personal account of my heartfelt belief on why I believe atheism is the purview of the privileged, while the poor, the oppressed, those who have few if any of life’s options, lean on the faith of The Almighty. As I got further into the post however, I decided it needed a little more heft, an examination of what the experts—both atheist and theologians–have said and written about faith and atheism.  I’ll attempt to synthesize their arguments—as I understand them—and then summarize with my take.

The first names that came to mind for an examination of an atheist viewpoint was a quartet of speakers who have become known as ‘The Four Horsemen of the Current Apocalypse’. This group included neuroscientist, Sam Harris and philosopher, David C. Bennet. But it is the other two members who have grabbed much of the publicity on this discussion, and it is their work that I’ve chosen to examine, though, admittedly, from a relatively long distance. They are the late journalist and writer, Christopher Hitchens, God is Not Great, and zoologist and author, Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion.

Richard Dawkins

Dr. Dawkins created a documentary for Channel Four in England based on his book, The God Delusion. The film is available on YouTube.

From the outset, surprisingly and disappointingly, Dr. Dawkins the scientist slams the door on any meaningful dialogue on the meaning of faith, with wholesale insults trained on the gullible schmucks who dare to believe in a deity. It is immediately apparent that his documentary is not a scholarly examination of a subject that is dear to billions of people, but a wholesale venting of his personal distaste (would ‘repulsion’ be too strong a description?) of those who dare to believe in God. Some examples:  Barely two minutes into the film, before any attempt to understand the idea of faith, Dawkins labels faith as ‘belief without evidence’, ‘a brain virus infecting generations of young minds, [perpetuating] outdated and dubious moral values’, and ‘a process of non-thinking’. On the other hand, people who think as he does, are referred to as ‘people of reason’.  Incredibly, he conflates all religions into one, as if all people of faith are indistinguishable one from another. There is even a sequence where the narrator describes the terrorist actions of   Islamic jihad over pictures of a Catholic Mass.

Dr. Dawkins then makes his way to The New Life Church in Colorado Springs, Colorado, and interviews, of all people, then Pastor Ted Haggard. (Haggard would later be forced to resign after his alleged sexual encounter with a male escort became public.) Dawkins also makes his way to the Holy Land and interviews a Muslim radical who believes that Islam will eventually dominate the planet. Other interviews include a pastor whose friend and colleague was convicted and executed for murdering an abortion doctor. You guessed it, the interviewee maintains support for his friend’s actions. Are we to believe that these individuals are the only representatives of the faithful that Dr. Dawkins could find?

When Dawkins gets down to scripture he emphasizes the Old Testament. Why? The Old Testament is the root of the Abrahamic religions. Such a statement is nothing short of laughable. Many Christians, who believe in Jesus’ command to ‘turn the other cheek’, will be personally insulted to have their faith characterized by an ‘Eye for An Eye’ philosophy. When he finally does get to the New Testament, Dawkins mysteriously skips over the teachings of Jesus or, as he puts it, ‘whomever wrote his lines,’ and goes straight to Paul. How can you criticize Christianity and avoid the teachings of Jesus?

Finally, Dr. Dawkins asserts the morality of secularism, underscored by science, and stands in stark contrast with the ‘dangerous’ teachings of religion. Science, he claims, reveals the true roots of human morality. ‘Morality stems, not from some fictional deity and his texts, [but] from ‘altruistic genes’ that have been ‘naturally selected’ in our evolutionary past. To bolster his argument, he offers this gem: ‘Fifty years ago just about everybody in Britain was somewhat racist, now, only a few people are.’ How on earth can any serious scientist make such a statement? How do you define ‘racism?’ And how would a famous scientist–white, male, educated at one of the most prestigious universities in the world—be qualified to quantify the dehumanizing stings of racism that still exists today?

Christopher Hitchens

While Dawkins tiptoes around the teachings of Jesus, Christopher Hitchens takes on the Messiah head on.

Hitchens graduated from Oxford University and wrote for several publications in both the UK and US, including the liberal-leaning, The Nation, and Vanity Fair.  In 2007 he published God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything. As the subtitle suggests, Hitchens conflates several faiths, and analyzes Judaism, Christianity and Islam as if they are slightly different versions of the same poisonous cocktail. I was drawn to the chapter of the book, ‘The New Testament Exceeds the Evil of the Old.’ The New Testament is quickly dismissed as ‘a work of crude carpentry, hammered together, long after its purported events, and full of improvised attempts to make things come out right.’   He attacks the New Testament from two standpoints: its veracity as a historical document, and the supposed immorality of its content. Here are a few gems. The account of Jesus being born in Bethlehem is probably incorrect, since both parents were from Nazareth, and there is no historical record of a census being conducted at the time of Jesus’ birth, as is written in Luke. Another example, attacking the passage about the Lilies of the field, suggests that Jesus is preaching that ‘thrift, innovation and family life are a waste of time.’

Hitchens wants to have it both ways.  Inconsistencies between the gospels are presented as proof of the illegitimacy of the text, and agreements among the gospels are dismissed as a simple ploy by the authors to shoe-horn events into a narrative to fulfill Old Testament prophesy.

The diatribe against the New Testament is not limited to the books themselves. Contemporary writers who agree with the texts come in for harsh criticism. C.S. Lewis’ asserts in his classic treatise, Mere Christianity, that Jesus must have been either a lunatic, a devil from Hell, or ‘Lord’—he must be one of the three. Hitchens disagrees, implying that Jesus could have been a moral teacher, basing his words simply from ‘hearsay’.  Lewis is right; Hitchens is wrong. Any human being who says he is the son of God, must be either the greatest con-man in the history of he world, a lunatic, or, really the son of God. If you are a con-man or a lunatic, who is going to believe anything you say, regardless of how ‘moral’ your words may be?

The problem with both Dawkins’ and Hitchens’ work is that that they approach their subject matter from a point of pious intolerance, smug academic arrogance, and plain old intellectual dishonesty. Faith, by definition, is foolish, a crutch for simpletons. End of story. No attempt is made to understand why an individual would chose to live by faith.  No attempt is made, simply because they believe they already know the answer: those who live by faith are either stupid, have been hoodwinked by religious charlatans, or both. How can this attitude be intellectually honest? How do you account for the many positive things that have emanated from faith? The Civil Rights Movement? Gandhi’s work on behalf of his people in South Africa and India?  Mother Teresa?

Hitchens’ writings on Mother Teresa is revealing. For Hitchens, Mother Teresa’s decades long work caring for the ‘poorest of the poor’ in the slums of the former Calcutta somehow pales in comparison to her accepting money from persons of dubious reputations, such as the Haitian dictator, Jean-Claude ‘Baby Doc’ Duvalier. Hitchens along with British-Pakistani journalist, Tariq Ali, produced a documentary that in effect demonized the woman who would one day become a saint. The name of the documentary?  Hell’s Angel. Enough said.

Cornel West

‘My dear brother, the late Christopher Hitchens, whom I loved very much, and respected very much, I just have profound disagreements. Christopher Hitchens was very brilliant, but he was not religiously musical. He was tone deaf and flat footed when it came to religion. He was a reductionist, he becomes a kind of dogma in atheistic space—a secular dogmatist…Secular folk need to read religious texts and religious phenomenon with a sense of not just openness but what they are wrestling with…how are you going to come to terms with the structure through the eyes of meaning in your own life…how are you going to deal with catastrophe in your own context…how will you respond when you’re terrorized, traumatized and stigmatized?’ – Cornel West, Philosophy and Religion Through Words of Cornel West (video).  (Dr.  West is a graduate of Harvard and Princeton, and is a Professor of Philosophy and Christian Practice. He’s authored over twenty books including Race Matters and Democracy Matters, www.cornelwest.com).

Thank you, brother West. This is exactly why so many who have been ‘terrorized’, traumatized, and stigmatized, can’t afford the luxury of atheism.

James Cone and Taylor Branch

Professor James H. Cone is a Professor of Theology at Union Theological Seminary in New York City. He is known as the founder of ‘black liberation theology’–interpreting Christianity through the eyes and experience of the oppressed.  Among his books are Black Theology and Black Power and The Cross and The Lynching Tree). Taylor Branch is an author perhaps best know for the three-volume history of the Civil Rights Movement, America in the King Years. In an interview with journalist Bill Moyers, Professor Cone and Branch discussed the Civil Rights Movement of the fifties and sixties and how it was influenced by the Black Church.

A year to the day before his assassination, Dr. King gave a speech in New York City where he referred to a ‘radical revolution of values’. According to Branch, this radical revolution of values is ‘to see people first, to see Lazarus at the gate and not pass them by, so I think the revolution in values is Christian and democratic, but it starts with people—they have equal souls and equal votes, but we are very stubborn in human nature in denying that and wanting to see anything but…’

Was it theological? Moyers asks.

‘Oh yes,’ Professor Cone responds, ‘because people are created in the image of God. If you are created in the image of God you can’t treat people like things.’

Later in the interview Professor Cone provides a succinct description of ‘liberation theology’:  Liberation Theology has its meaning primarily in seeing Jesus as one in solidarity with the poor to get them out of poverty’.

In another interview with Moyers, where he discusses his book, The Cross and the Lynching Tree, Professor Cone provides a concise definition of religion:

Religion is a search for meaning when you don’t have it in this world. So while they [the dominant society of the American South] may have controlled the black people physically, and politically and economically, they did not control their spirit. That’s why the black churches are very powerful forces in the African American community, and always have been, because religion has been that one place where you have an imagination that no one can control. And so as long as you know that you are a human being and nobody can take that away from you, then God is that reality in your life that enables you to know that.

How would an atheist respond to such a statement?   Should people who are politically and socially weak–poor and oppressed–should they be denied the belief that their lives are legitimate, that there is a God who sees them as every bit as valuable, as every bit as humane as their oppressors? Well, the atheist may counter with, ‘the morality gene determines equality among all people.’ The problem with that argument is that there is no authority by which that statement is made. What if I don’t believe in a ‘morality gene?’  What if the only authority is the authority of the powerful? Not the authority of God.  In that case, Dear Oppressed, you’re just of luck. You were born holding the short end of the stick and there’s absolutely nothing that you can do about it.

When Wrongs Are Made Right

The New Testament provides hope for the oppressed in another way.  And that is, in the hope that, even if circumstances aren’t set right in this life, justice will be meted out in the next.  This may be controversial, and is certainly not promoted by activists, since it may be interpreted as promoting passivity in the face of injustice.  But there will be instances where, despite the best efforts of the marginalized and their supporters, their situation will not be made whole.  For them however, like the parable of Lazarus, there is hope that injustices will be remedied in the afterlife. Who could not be comforted by the story of Lazarus? Lazarus, his body covered with sores, begging at the gate of the rich; and the rich man, blessed with material possessions, dutifully ignores the filthy beggar. They both die, and their fortunes are reversed.  Pipe dream? Who knows? But when a dream is all you have, what right does anyone have to say, ‘No, that’s a fairy tale. You can’t have that either! You live. You suffer. You die.  I, on the other hand, get to enjoy this wonderful world I inherited by sheer accident of birth!’

Howard Thurman

Howard Thurman, 1899-1981, was a theologian, pastor and author. He was a friend of Martin Luther King, Sr. and a mentor to a young Martin Luther King, Jr. His best-known work is Jesus and the Disinherited. First published in 1949, the book draws on similarities between Jesus, whom he describes as poor and a member of a minority group—aspects of which the poor and dispossessed of any age can identify. But what is perhaps most intriguing about this little-known but extremely influential figure in the Civil Rights Movement was his relationship with his grandmother. A former slave, she raised him from the time he was seven years old. In Jesus and the Disinherited he tells the story of how, as a child, he would read the Bible to her, for she could neither read nor write. (The story is found on page 19 of the 1976 edition, published by Beacon Press.) He says she was very particular about the Scriptures he was permitted to read to her—the more devotional Psalms, portions of Isaiah, the Gospels ‘again and again’. However, the Pauline epistles, except for the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians? Never!

When he was older he summoned the courage to ask her why he was not allowed to read Paul’s letters. She replied: ‘During the days of slavery…the mater’s ministers would occasionally hold services for the slaves.  Old man McGhee was so mean that he would not let a Negro minister preach to his slaves. Always the white minister used as his text something from Paul. At least three or four times a year he would use as his text: “Slaves, be obedient to them that are your masters…as unto Christ.” Then he would go on to show how it was God’s will that we were slaves and how, if we were good and happy slaves, God would bless us.  I promised my Maker that if I ever learned to read and if freedom ever came, I would not read that part of the Bible.’

The story of Thurman’s grandmother is strikingly similar to a story in Sojourner Truth’s narrative. The itinerant preacher was illiterate as well. The Bible had to be read to her. She made a point of having a child read it to her, not an adult. Why? Children would read the passages, simply, as they were written—without putting a personal slant to them, without inserting their own agendas. That way she could determine for herself the true message of the Scriptures.

And so there you have it.  Two slave-women, unable to read or write, but with enough wisdom to seek the true meaning of the word of God, wisdom that somehow has eluded two of the most erudite writers and speakers on the planet, complete with degrees from prestigious institutions, and the respect of the world’s academic elite. For these slave-women, and the millions of their spiritual descendants, atheism is truly a luxury they could not afford.

© Weldon Turner, 2017. All Rights Reserved

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Author, Christopher Hitchens Credit: Peter Power / Contributor Collection: Toronto Star Date created: 01 January, 2010 Editorial License secured.

[marianneforbes]

A response to “Reasonable Questions for Anti-SJW‘s”.

I will not write down the actual questions, because I am a lazy bastard. Instead I will just link the video here so you can watch it for yourselves, as well as the name of the people asking these questions and at what point in the video you can find these questions.

Let’s get started. Some of these questions are actually quite good, while others are cringeworthy.

Original video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdCNudQKTJM

T1J – 0.20

Are you able to understand the point of many of these YouTube-videos? They are, first and foremost, entertainers, and it’s funnier and more engaging to watch someone pretend to lose their shit over the stupidity of the SJW than just sit there and say “I disagree with you”. However, despite their reactions they bring up valid points.

hbomberguy – 0.32

They look cool.

demotivatoropinion – 0.34

I defy the right wing as people who typically have more conservative values: pro-life, anti-gun control, has a more narrow-minded view on immigration, holds on to family values, anti-same-sex-marriage, doesn’t believe in climate change, and holds on to religious values.

That is the most general description of a right-winger. Obviously not everyone who identifies as right-wing fits that description, and some are more radical in their opinion than others. The reason why I don’t like being labeled right-wing is because the things I value are more on par with the left: I am pro-choice, pro-gun control (to a certain extent), don’t really care about family values, pro-same-sex-marriage, believe in climate change and don’t really care about religious values. The only thing I agree more with the right than the left is when it comes to immigration.

I do not bash the left, I bash only the most extremes: those who want to label everything they don’t agree with as “hate speech”. The reason why I don’t bash the right as much is because they are not as loud as the SJW, nor are they telling me I should keep my opinions to myself because it “triggers” them.

Thom Avella – 0.58

The problem is that most SJW are not willing to hold a conversation. If you disagree with them, they will label you as racist, sexist and bigoted and say that everything you say is “hate speech”.

Philip Moriarty – 1.11

Just because you like to shit-post doesn’t mean you are not capable of holding a rational discussion. Twitter is not the best place to hold a discussion, since you can’t write a tweet longer than 140 letters.

hbomberguy – 1.36

Haha, very funny.

Michael Rowlands – 1.40

Are you fucking serious? Words such as “racism”, “sexism”, “bigotry”, “rape”, “sexual harassment”, etc. have all lost their meaning because of you people! Sorry, but that is a little bit more serious than anything the antis have ever done!

hbomberguy – 1.55

You are part of a group that supports BlackLivesMatter and Islam! You have no room to talk here.

Kristi Winters – 2.18

Let me say that Kristi Winters is a condescending cunt, who has proven herself to deserve no form of respect whatsoever.

No, Kristi, FEMINISTS are the ones misrepresenting the feminist movement! You go on and on about this invisible patriarchy that no one but you can see. However, when someone brings up actual oppression of the women in Saudi Arabia you silence us and continue to talk about how bad things are for women in the First World.  

And the reason why we don’t take up the strongest feminist arguments, the ones actually talking about the oppression of women under Islam, is because we agree with them.

Chrisiousity – 2.40

I think many people would be interested in working with you if you could find a middle ground to stand on. The problem is that many SJW tend to block the antis on social media platforms.

Steve Shives – 3.14

Well speaking of SJW blocking antis, we have the king of it himself.

Third wave feminism is an ideology, not a movement, that believes that white, cis, heterosexual men should be at the bottom of the social hierarchy, and that women, LGBT-people and ethnic minorities are such precious wittle babies who needs to be protected from the evil patriarchy.

The reason why I hate third wave feminism is because I don’t like being told that I’m oppressed, and that men are naturally my enemy just because I’m a woman. I also don’t like how it gives free passes to violent groups such as BlackLivesMatter and Islam because those poor wittle blacks and Muslims are so oppressed and we need to cater to their poor feelings.

Ranting Feminist – 3.34

Because Trigglypuff is everything antis have said SJW are. She is disgustingly fat, has weird hair, hipster glasses, loud, obnoxious, childish and throws a temper tantrum just because she did not agree with the speakers.

demotivatoropinion – 3.59

This is actually a good question.

No, you don’t have to answer for the actions of every feminists. When it comes down to it, you are an individual, and you don’t need to answer for anyone else.

hbomberguy – 4.16

Seriously asshole, why are you here? You are ridiculous.

The reason why we get pissed off at the SJW for not talking about real problems is because they pretend that their problems are just the worst, and when someone dares to bring up other problems they silence the conversation.

Thom Avella – 4.53

Because when voices like Franchesca Ramsey, Laci Green and Anita Sarkeesian are the loudest, feminist academia means jack shit! No one actually knows about modern day feminist literature, but people watch and listens to those three I just mentioned. Hate to say it, but feminist academia doesn’t represent modern day feminism, but those three do.

Steve Shives – 4.59

I like Christina Hoff Sommers, and her books Who Stole Feminism and The War Against Boys.

Michal Rowlands – 5.28

Eh? Where did you get that idea from? No one does that, except for you guys.

hbomberguy – 5.49

Seriously, why are you here, and why do you get to ask so many questions? This is your fifth question in this video! I wanted to be challenged, but you’re not offering any challenges at all!

Chrisiousity – 6.19

The reason why I’m so critical of the religion of Islam and its people is because I see what it has done to Europe, and everything that’s happened in Germany, France, Britain and other places. My own country has been quite lucky in this matter, but others haven’t.

Yes, you can be a Muslim and not agree with everything said in the Quran, just like most Christians in the western world wouldn’t agree with the insane shit written in the Bible. The difference is that Islam does not have a separation of church and state like the Christian world does, and many Muslims are in favor of Sharia-laws – some of the most violent and barbaric laws in the world. Ask any former Muslim and they will tell you how awful those laws are.

T1J – 7.30

Because black people make no attempt to get out of their ghettos, and instead turn to a life of crime and violence. White people don’t force you to glorify the crime lords and follow their foot-steps. Then they play the victim card and tell a white person that it’s all their fault, even if they’ve never met that person before.

BlackLivesMatter should be demonized because it’s a violent, racist, pro-black supremacy group. Just look at those four kids who beat up another guy just for being white. Whether they were part of BLM or not is not relevant, because this is the kind of behavior that BLM promotes! 

Kristi Winter – 7.56

Oh hey look, it’s Bitchy Winter again.

I’ll start talking about white-on-white crime when white people start marching on the streets, burn buildings, crash cars and beat up people and police officers shouting “WhiteLivesMatter” in response to black-on-white crime!

The reason why so many people make videos about black-on-black crime is because the biggest threat to black people are other black people. If you took your time to listen to the black people against the BLM-movement, they would say exactly this.

If you’re going to be  smartass with a smug smirk, make sure you’re actually, you know, smart. Otherwise you’re just being a dumbass.

hbomberguy – 8.09

Nope, I’ll skip this! Can’t stand this kid!

Steve Shives – 8.20

Wow, this was actually a decent question and from Steve Shives.

Believe it or not, but most people who are racist are okay with saying things like “no blacks here”, and find nothing wrong with treating non-whites as inferior. However, it is also worth noting that racism and prejudice are not the same things. Putting labels on people is the last thing we need to do.

Chrisiousity – 8.40

There are laws to prevent this from happening. If someone openly discriminates you based on your race, such as not giving you a job just because you’re black, you have every right to sue that person.

T1J – 9.02

The ridiculous thing is that you have failed to see why people have an issue with BlackLivesMatter. SJW likes to pretend that just because you say BlackLivesMatter it doesn’t mean that you think white people doesn’t matter, but the fact is that that is exactly what the riots and protestors in the BLM-movement are saying. Just look how everyone who defends BLM defends the four kids who beat up another guy just because he ws white.

demotivatoropinion – 9.20

No, I don’t think that a man who wants equality for women just wants to get laid. What I don’t understand is why a man would support a group that demonizes him.

Kristi Winters – 9.40

No I will not call them out for it. Those words don’t hurt you physically, so I don’t see why they should be banned. Need I remind you, cunt, that feminists and SJW are often talking about “toxic” masculinity, and how men who likes to be masculine are beasts.

So let’s make a deal: I will stop doing this (even though I’ve never done it) when you stop saying that men who likes to be though are suffering from toxic masculinity.

Philip Moriarty – 10.09

People also subscribe because he says stuff they don’t want to hear, just to hear a different point of view. Others for the entertainment. The rest because he tells them what they want to hear.

If you want to know a situation where the amount of followers mattered, I suggest you watch this video by The Amazing Atheist about Steve Shives.

Michael Rowlands – 10.45

The difference between SJW and antis is that when SJW talk about safe spaces and trigger warnings they are being 100% serious, while antis are just doing so at the expense of the SJW. The reason why we hate safe spaces and trigger warnings is because SJW demand everyone to cater to their safe space, where they can continue to act like 7-year-old children and never have their feelings hurt.

Also, don’t criticize people for hiding behind avatars and fake names when you are in a video with two people who hides behind cartoon avatar, and some of them also has fake names! And a lot of people hide behind fake names to protect themselves. Remember how Franchesca Ramsey tried to get Sargon of Akkad thrown off Patreon (his livelihood) because he did not agree with her? And Chris Ray Gun said in his response video that some SJW called a former job of his to try to get him fired, because they did not like what he was saying. And Bitchy Winters doxxed Bearing.

So if you’re going to criticize people for hiding behind avatars and fake names, take a look at your community and ask yourself why!

T1J – 11.09

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me!

BlackLivesMatter, which you scolded us for not supporting, burns buildings, wrecks cars, beats up people on the street, tweets things like “white people must die”, sends death threats to people for daring to criticizing them (even if they are a 16-year-old black kid), and promotes and defends torture of a mentally-disabled white teenager. And now you are scolding the antis for not telling their fans to stop with a little bit of online harassment that the antis also have to deal with!

You are a fucking hypocrite, you know that?

Ranting Feminist – 11.42

I don’t because everyone gets harassed online, antis as well. When you go out in public with your views, there will always be people who disagrees with you, and some of them are harsher and louder than others. Some of them are just trolls.

If anyone is doing the harassment it’s SJW. The “harassment” done by antis are usually just response videos where they offer a different point of view - some of them are meaner than others. Feminists and SJW are actually trying to destroy people’s livelihood, which is a far worse sort of harassment!

Philip Moriarty – 11.47

You are right. The best way to get a broad and unbiased perspective of an issue is to read more than one article (preferably a few from both sides of the argument) Just look at the videos made by TL;DR and Sargon of Akkad. They do a spectacular form of research.

Unfortunately, it’s the SJW who refuses to see anything from a different perspective. I would not say that SJW are kind in their methods, because they can be quite vile in the way they speak to people who don’t share their views.

Kristi Winters – 12.25 (Just fucking end me)

Egalitarian means what egalitarian means: Everyone are equal. Nothing more needs to be said about it. Are you seriously this butthurt that people don’t want to see themselves as part of your man-hating ideology?

Philip Moriarty – 12.39

I guess you’re talking about Sargon of Akkad’s petition to ban gender studies in colleges (a petition I myself signed).

The reason why I hate it is because 1) Gender studies is where social justice warriors go to get brainwashed into thinking that they are a group of oppressed snowflakes and gain their victim complex, and 2) It’s a career choice that doesn’t lead anywhere, but they still complain when men make more money than them. Instead they could have read something similar, but would also lead to a career (law and politics for example).

Ranting Feminist – 12.56

Anita Sarkeesian is one of the most prominent feminists on YouTube, and has made a career out of conning people of their money.

Thom Avella – 12.59

Why are you so obsessed with citing Sargon of Akkad? I mean, this is borderline “Notice me, senpai”-complex that you have with him.

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The only “reasonable” questions came from Chrisiousity, demotivatoropinion and Philip Moriarty. Their questions had some ground to stand on, and you could tell that these poor souls had actually sat down and really thought what they should ask in this video. It is too bad that they are not in the majority here, and they are being automatically categorized together with the rest of these morons.

Ranting Feminist and Thom Avella weren’t cringe-worthy at all, but neither did they offer any solid questions that required some thinking.

T1J and Michael Rowlands were equally as bad. Either they are too stupid to understand what is really going on around them, or they are the stereotypical SJW who likes to cover their ears whenever someone presents with a different point of view.

Steve Shives really had no right to be here, but I don’t want to bash him too much since everybody else already does it and I genuinely feel sorry for him. His wife is a feminazi who calls him a sexist just for preferring Angel to Buffy.

Kristi Winters is, as I said, a condescending bitch. She wants to pretend she is better than everybody else, but if you look into her eyes you see nothing but evil. She was the one who put together this video, but she completely failed to see the hypocrisy in many of these statements (maybe you have to be a non-hypocrite to be able to spot hypocrisy). Just the way she speaks in this video makes you wonder how anyone could listen to her, and not see through her.

And I don’t think it’s even worth saying that much about hbomberguy because he contributed nothing to this video.