#two of my goats being absolutely down horrendous

[saintlybitxh]

☁️ 💕 Beyoncé and Alex Turner being dreamy and love-stricken.

EXCERPTS FROM: Sweet Dreams - Beyoncé // Sweet Dreams, TN - The Last Shadow Puppets // Crazy in Love - Beyoncé // Déjà Vu - Beyoncé // The Dream Synopsis - The Last Shadow Puppets // 505 - Arctic Monkeys // Dreaming - Beyoncé // R U Mine? - Arctic Monkeys

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Do tell about John Piper! I don’t know much about him other than that Calvinists like him.

OKAY SO. Yeah, he's like the chief of 5-Point Calvinist Theologians. Really the only reason I've read much from him is because a friend (who shall remain nameless unless she chooses otherwise) was having huge issues reading his stuff and was asking me about stuff he'd written and if I agreed with it. I'm, like, a solid 3.5 Calvinist, myself, but that doesn't help me like him honestly, lol.

For the record: Sometimes he says good and helpful things. Sometimes I agree with him. Sometimes. Not that long ago he answered a question about how much jewelry is appropriate for women to wear. Given the title, I was very prepared to be absolutely incensed by his answer, but after reading it...sometimes the dude just needs to work on his titles because I did actually agree with this answer. (Which, if you wondered, he said there's nothing wrong with wearing jewelry; the title came from the question that was asked, which was very misleading.)

All that being said, he also sometimes says really stupid things -- and I'm not talking about things I disagree with from a theological (tenets of Calvinism) prospective. After all, we can still learn a lot by listening to or reading things from people we don't agree with. Rather, sometimes he makes it very clear he does not understand that not all brains work the same way, aka being neurodivergent.

I made that meme quite a while ago in response to a question he received from someone wanting to know how to encourage their autistic Christian friend. One thing he said in response was that the person should not use Scriptures like Psalm 139: 13-16 (the infamous "fearfully and wonderfully made" verses). His reasoning? That applies to everyone, even the most terrible people in the world, like Hitler. Therefore, it is not encouraging to hear that.

So let me tell you a little story about why that advice makes me so upset:

Back when I had just figured out I'm autistic, for some reason or another the #actuallyautistic tag here on tumblr was -once again- talking a whole lot about a ten-year-old ad from Autism Speaks titled "I am Autism" and how horrendous it is (and how we should never let them forget about it when they tried to bury it, which I agree, but that's another rant about how terrible AS is and why no one should support them). Curiosity got the better of me and I looked it up on YouTube. I couldn't even process it the first time. I was so shocked. So I watched it a second time, and then promptly broke down sobbing. (A friend of mine could only stomach watching about the first 30 seconds of it before she turned it off. That should tell you everything right there.) I had never felt so dehumanized in my entire life, and you wanna know what brought me comfort after watching that? Reading Psalm 139, particularly the above verses.

The thing Piper doesn't understand is this: the rest of the world is busy telling us that we're "put together wrong" or that we're "broken" and no one is telling us that's not true. Sometimes when we're struggling it's nice to hear someone remind us that we were created exactly as God intended us to be. (Another good passage, fyi, is Moses and the burning bush, where Moses says he's not good at speaking and God's rebuttal is "is it not I who created the blind and the deaf the way they are?" Yeah. That's a piece of my pastor's sermon from two years ago that still sticks with me, thank-you-very-much.)

That is why it makes me angry. Because people will follow his advice and start not telling us something that we need to hear simply because it's not something he has ever taken comfort in so apparently he cannot fathom anyone else taking comfort in it either.

I'm sure there are probably other articles he's written or answers he's given that have also gotten my goat, but the other big thing that gets me is his recently published book where he asserts that if you don't feel affection towards God then you aren't saved.

On the one hand, I do get his point: having a head-knowledge that God is real and the Bible is true is NOT the same as having saving faith.

But I have two problems with Piper's take on this: 1. Many ND folks (not all, of course, but I am in this category) don't experience emotions or feelings the same way as every one else. Which means affection -- especially the way Piper seems to be describing in his book -- can be a bit of a foreign concept. Speaking solely for myself, I do not feel affection -- at least not in the way you are supposedly supposed to, according to Piper. Having a head-knowledge of the Bible does not equal having faith but here's a crazy ND concept that escapes Piper: sometimes head-knowledge IS affection. I don't spend time on things I don't care about. I don't do deep-dives into topics on things I don't care about. I don't spend time on things that don't bring me joy. The knowledge I have shows where my affections lie, even if I don't experience affection as a feeling, the way Piper says you have to. 2. Affection does not equal love, and love is more important here. As an example: I love my husband very much. I don't always like him (sometimes he drives me nuts, that's just life, and I know I drive him nuts too, haha), but I do always love him. Comparatively, according to Piper, if I don't always feel affection (aka "like") my husband then I must not actually love him. And this is simply not true. Affection is a feeling; love is an action. I don't have to feel any one certain way in order to still love someone -- and that includes God.

I've said it once and I'll willingly say it as many times I have to: we can't rely on our feelings for assurance of salvation because (say it with me now!):

Feelings are Fickle.

And with this book, Piper has made salvation about feelings. So even from a neurotypical perspective, this book is a bad take. But it's even worse for ND folks who simply don't experience feelings the way NTs do. People are going to read this book and start thinking, "well, there's no way I'm saved because I don't feel the RIGHT way, the CORRECT way, the way PIPER is telling me I have to." And I don't think I need to explain further why that's damaging.

And these are just my personal gripes. Other ND friends (specifically the first one I mentioned) have all kinds of troubles reading his stuff, because of terrible wording or answers that aren't thorough enough or conflicting information from what he's said in the past compared to now.

He is, at best, a sincere but incredibly insensitive writer. But it doesn't matter how sincere he is because someone can be very sincerely damaging to other believers.

And someday he's going to have to answer for that.

[onepartbrave]

an FYI ~

Without a doubt, I’ve been distracted from RP but I digress… I’ve also been dipping into fanficland, a Strifehart feels run being my first instalment yet to come.

A snippet below, I guess? I’m quite dubious when sharing as I sometimes feel I don’t get Squall just right, let alone other characters… ergo, this leap of faith? Eh. Enjoy what will come, I guess?

Brief synopsis; Cloud is a werewolf that lives in the world of FF8. Other characters will appear, but for now, Strifehart mains~

In the beginning, not all was well. Those born from extraordinary circumstances – “Mythics” – were scorned, exiled from belonging in any place of man due to their collective (misplaced) fear; of not knowing what they might do, despite not knowing what they might not do. 

Long, tedious battles took place, sometimes figuratively, mostly physically, until one fateful day, a breakthrough finally happened. One man, known among mankind as a hero of their time, used his influence over the world to fight for them, and he fought fiercely for their rights as living beings to survive and thrive with everyday people. 

Vampires, once feared through centuries of misrepresentation and slander, strolled about in broad daylight, dressed head-to-toe in protective gear, specialised to deflect the life-threatening UV rays. Werewolves, once thought of as nothing but mindless monstrosities carrying an uncontrollable, infectious disease, walked among the public without fears of being ruthlessly hunted. Fairies, demons, pixies, sirens – so many Mythics roaming freely for, potentially, the first time in their lives. 

** 

Squall Leonhart was, for lack of a better term, fed up. 

Why, one might inquire? Simply put, in the outskirts of Winhill, he’d purchased a luxuriously large plot of land and set up a homely ranch-slash-house for himself. The final decision to settle down in the middle of nowhere was partially due to the beautiful scenery, mostly from the unrivalled privacy and his overwhelming need to stay out of the limelight to enjoy his reluctant retirement. On the land roamed a few dozen chickens, some cows, a random goat or two, and a grumpy old chocobo that wandered in one day and stayed, allegedly liking what she saw (and whom he’d fondly named Chocorita – he wasn’t great at naming things, sue him). 

In the solitude of Winhill and the mountains, he’d expected peace. For the first time in his life, he wanted to take it slow, to relax and maybe take up a boring hobby that kept him off his feet (just as the doctor prescribed, ugh). Instead, anywhere he went, he got chaos. Destruction, mayhem, calamity, regardless of how minor or extreme. Natural, man-made and in-between, there was no way to escape his horrendous luck. 

Such was what had him out of bed at an ungodly hour one morning, standing in nothing but fraying-at-the-edges pyjama pants and worn out boots in long need of replacing, staring in utter disdain and absolute exasperation at his hen house… that was currently being ravaged by a gigantic, rugged as heck, wolf. Flashlight pointing directly at the offending creature, which halted on the spot like a deer caught in headlights the moment the beam landed on its furry hide, unblinking eyes on Squall as he glared back his unrelenting disgust. 

Why. Just why. 

“…I use these for eggs!” he howled, agitation and exhaustion (with everything) winning over any common sense warning him to back away from the potentially dangerous beast, waving his only viable weapon of a flickering flashlight at the frozen mongrel. Who, to his complete surprise, dropped the feathery carcass like the soft exterior burned and fucking scampered away in (what he could only describe as) unbridled terror, wispy tail tucked firmly between long legs. Silence crept in around Squall, apart from the occasional chirping cricket, as he stared in the direction the wolf fled, trying to process what just happened. 

After a moment of further consideration, he shook his head roughly, forever in his way hair falling over his face as he clapped a palm to it, running it down while groaning in defeated frustration. Miles and miles of forest teeming with wildlife just as easy to catch, plus neighbouring placements just a few clicks out, and… it was still him that was ransacked. Hand lowering, noticing the flashlight beam gradually dimming, he deemed it time to call it a night. One wearily curious glance after the thieving mutt was all he spared before turning on his heel and wobbling his way back inside to the persistent light and welcoming aircon. 

He’d deal with the chickens come sunrise. 

** 

Come morning, a more reasonable morning, someone had the nerve to knock loudly on Squall’s front door. With his establishment being all ground floor, noises travelled quickly and efficiently. Thus, obnoxious banging woke him from a restless sleep despite his bedroom being in the furthest corner away from the main hall. Blissful silence occurred briefly, his pounding head welcoming the peace, before it was rudely interrupted with, yet again, more incessant knocking. It seemed his unwanted visitor wasn’t giving in. 

Groaning lowly to himself, Squall’s right arm raised and flew to cover his eyes, knowing full well if he were to open them immediately, he’d be temporarily blinded by radiant sunshine. Despite having blinds that supposedly repelled sunlight, he still woke most mornings by an impish beam to the face. One of the wonderful things about living in Winhill was the endless sunshine, but it was also one of the worst. Contemplating his next move while gingerly stretching out tender limbs, he barely refrained from growling aloud in annoyance when more knocking came. 

He was going to deck whoever it was VIP status (Laguna) or not (Seifer). 

Grudgingly, he removed his arm and squinted his eyes as they slowly peeled open, pre-emptively braced. Lightly shaking off the familiar numbness filtering in from his left leg, Squall sluggishly pushed himself up and to the edge of his bed to sit. Running a hand through his hair while the other provided a sturdy support as he leant back, he didn’t care to stifle the bothersome yawn momentarily clouding his mind. Scratching an itch to the rear of his skull, he blinked his eyes a few more times before he was ready to combat nature’s wakeup call. 

Or fates, if the knock, knock, knocking was any implication. 

“Yeah, yeah… on my way,” he mumbled to none as he forced himself up. Wavering slightly to start, he used the headboard to help stabilise his equilibrium. Taking a moment to ensure his balance was up to par, he surged on with murderous intent. Well… more like waddled on like an angry duckling – he doubted anyone would take him seriously with an unfortunate case of bedhead (fluffy, sticking up everywhere, untameable; he’d tried, trust him) and wearing only pyjama pants with a hole in the left knee. Muttering darkly to himself as he marched onward, soft carpet beneath his feet turned into solid wood, one click sounding for every two steps he took. Obviously, he’d forgotten socks in his eagerness to return to bed last night. 

Finally, he reached the front door, solid wood slash metal with a singular, one-way peephole embedded and grabbed the slick metal handle, twisted the key to unlock and all but yanked the thing open like it caused him great offence. Not the door at least, but the one standing on the opposite side had. “What’s your goddamn problem…?!” Squall fired out instantly, although some of the ferocity died down by his fourth word at seeing who was there. 

A man, possibly around his age, with hair worse than his own sticking up all over the place (platinum blond, didn’t look dyed – cute), skin pale enough to suggest he’d never seen sunlight, let alone been outside in it and the brightest blue eyes Squall had ever seen staring at him widely, looking oddly innocent despite being stuck to a grown adult… and oddly familiar. If only to add to Squall’s ludicrous attraction to the man, a rosy tint overtook definitely illegal cheekbones and the man, who’d been staring relentlessly, dropped his adorable gaze bashfully and rambled under his breath. 

Squall struggled to hear, features automatically down turning into something reminiscent of a scowl. His unfortunate visitor caught the look and perceived it to be for him, rather than Squall’s lacklustre hearing. “I—I’m sorry for the early morning call but I couldn’t wait any longer. My name’s—uh, Cloud Strife, and I, I’m your new neighbour,” he, allegedly Cloud, said, rather rapidly and in a tone that suggested questionable embarrassment and… guilt? “I happened to be passing by when I figured it—it’d be neighbourly to give you a welcoming present—” Wait, wasn’t that supposed to be the other way around? Squall was becoming more puzzled by the second, yet he continued to watch the blond ramble. “—so, I, I have something. For you. If you want them?” 

When Cloud concluded his introduction, Squall simply stared. Blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes with the palm of a hand to ensure that yes, he was awake, and yes, there was potentially the cutest blond idiot babbling on his doorstep just after sunrise. Said blond peek at him coyly through his bangs and Squall’s heart skipped a beat. 

Well, at least he knew his eyesight was still functioning well. 

“I… sure?” he replied, more of a question than a response, but it seemed to suit Cloud’s expectations perfectly. 

His neighbour hopped to attention and beckoned Squall over with enthusiastic waves of his whole arm, looking him up and down when he suddenly stopped. In an instant, Squall’s guard rose as he watched where that sky-blue gaze fell, hackles instinctively prepared. A heartbeat past and… Cloud simply shook his head and said, “Sorry, shoes—I’ll let you put on some shoes.” 

And that expelled any suspicion Squall held over that inquisitive gaze. If he hadn’t caught himself, he would’ve expressed a small smile at the blond’s antics. He blamed his messed-up sense of defence and common sense on his lack of sleep. Making to abide by Cloud’s reasonable suggestion, he slid his sockless feet into his trusty boots, left one stiffer than the right, and grabbed a jacket from the hooks by the door. Pulling on the coat to make himself at least semi-decent, he stepped outside into the already harsh warmth of the summer sun and joined Cloud’s side. Who had waited for him in the exact position he’d stopped in and not another glance was thrown downwards to Squall’s feet. 

He didn’t know whether to be impressed by someone’s apparent self-control or see if he couldn’t torment the man for looking in the first place. The sassier, snappier side of him wanted anyone that stared to suffer first-hand mortification, but somehow, Cloud slipped by and made his way to the ‘simply impressed’ side. 

Following his energetic neighbour to wherever he deemed necessary, Squall took the opportunity from lingering somewhat behind to check him out. A faded-check shirt was atop a sleeveless black tank-top, black combat pants with thick-soled biker boots, and twin (again, you guessed it) black fingerless gloves shielding strong-looking hands. Screw his hands, when they stopped by a monstrous, fucking fantastic motorcycle parked just off the driveway, Cloud’s shirt sleeves pulled up when the blond lifted something that had been secured to the rear of the bike and Squall saw jaw-dropping muscle definition on his arms alone. 

Silently, the gremlin part of his brain prayed for gale-force winds to suddenly whip up and rip the clothes from his neighbour’s body so Squall could check out the rest of him. Decisively, he ignored it. 

What was impossible to ignore was the crate Cloud was carrying, filled with… chickens? Improbable as it seemed considering the already perplexing introduction, Squall found himself feeling off-balance on how to respond or what to respond with. Why on earth was Cloud presenting hens to him? It seemed absurdly coincidental that he lost such birds the night before to the foul mutt… Stormy eyes squinted at still-radiating-innocence blue and popped his right hand on his corresponding hip. “…Do you have a dog?” 

Weirdly, Cloud fumbled with the crate at Squall’s legitimate question, the wooden box and livestock inside nearly falling directly onto booted feet. Immaculate reflexes avoided disaster, though the same couldn’t be said for the man himself. “Dog?” was Cloud’s inquiring reply as he straightened up, voice going oddly high-pitched as though he felt targeted by Squall’s suspicion… which he was, he supposed, and the given reaction wasn’t helping Cloud’s case. “No—no, I have no animals. Why?” 

He studied Cloud in brief silence, offering a meek shrug soon after, hand falling from its perch back to his side. “No reason.” And now back to the topic at hand: “Why have you brought me chickens?” And why would you think I need any, his mind finished for him. Patiently, he waited. 

Cloud toyed with his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flicking everywhere but Squall. Almost like he struggled to think of a valid reason. Shady… In the moment of muteness, Squall’s focus shifted to the sleek machine stationed just behind them. The coat was midnight-black and shimmered in the sunlight majestically. Thicker than most two-wheelers he’d seen in his lifetime, potentially heavier from the additional compartments his keen eyesight made out, and two front wheels instead of the usual one… Simply put, it was a work of art and Squall was yet to find any piece of machinery he couldn’t wholly admire. Wonder what it’s like to ride… 

“I—I noticed you have a ranch and figured you could never have too many chickens.” If that wasn’t the lamest excuse Squall had heard in a long while… and he was friends with both Rinoa and Selphie. “So—take them?” 

Earnest blue eyes practically begged him, and the box was shoved his way suggestively, Squall’s answer was simple. He hadn’t the heart to tell the allegedly generous man ‘no’. “…Fine,” he sighed, growing instantly pensive when Cloud beamed – like he was doing the blond a favour by taking the hens. Were they infected or something? “Bring them this way,” he continued quietly, jerking his head in the direction of the main coop. Since he was already holding it, why not make use of Cloud a little longer? “I didn’t see you move in,” he commented as they began to walk, the blond keeping pace with his slightly stunted one. 

If Squall was to describe the stream of expressions that flitted over Cloud’s face in the next moment, he’d be there all day. The blond chose to settle on sheepishness with a matching smile. “It was a quick overnight thing… didn’t have much to unpack,” Cloud murmured, keeping his eyes facing forward to avoid further contact with Squall’s. 

Everything about him set off warning bells inside Squall’s mind but he couldn’t make heads or tails of what or why. Was it due to his own reclusive nature and the fact he’d evaded human interactions as much as realistically possible over the last few months, that simple conversation with new people was putting him on-guard? Too mindful over what everyone thought about him now? Shiva, he needed to get a hobby other than overthinking. Fat lot of help it was in the past. 

Thankfully, Cloud neither glanced his way to assume Squall’s souring mood was his fault or commented on the silence dragging between them as they strode on. It was only when the wooden hutch was in sight that Squall recalled last night’s problem – deceased chickens all over the place. Great, now Cloud would assume he was a disturbed maniac that feasted upon the flesh of the poor birds that had been ripped apart – 

Stopping suddenly in his tracks, Squall stared openly at the area surrounding his hen house. Cloud also paused, eyes sweeping up in an inquisitive manner, but voiced nothing. Again, he was grateful for the blond’s apparent love of silence because he wouldn’t know what to say as the entire ground was clean. No residue blood, no scattered feathers, no messy carcasses – hell, it looked like someone had swept the floor, too. Picking apart his brain for plausible solutions to the glaring problem encountered, he came up empty and his only reward was undiluted bewilderment. 

Eventually though, Cloud broke the silent treaty and asked, quite reasonably, “Is, uh, everything okay?” 

Surprisingly speechless, Squall turned his head to bring the virtuous blond into view, who was genuinely asking from misguided concern about his wellbeing. But… what could he honestly say? ‘Oh, yesterday there was numerous bodies littering the floor and now they’ve miraculously gone!’ Pfft, not likely. Flicking out his tongue to swipe along his bottom lip (noting idly how blue eyes seemed to follow the motion), he finally nodded and resolved to not telling the truth. “Phantom pains,” he said shortly, hoping the tone of voice dissuaded further questions. Luckily, Cloud complied but dropped his gaze out of apparent embarrassment again and Squall felt his chest squeeze. He hated feeling guilty. “Happens all the time, don’t worry about it.” 

Hopeful eyes raised to greet his and Squall determined that shade of blue to be illegal now. Everything about Cloud was illegal. “I—I understand,” Cloud said, nodding in sincere comprehension, hefting the crate a little higher. “Should I just set this down and free them, or…?” 

Right, the chickens. Squall nodded once. “Yeah, free roaming and all that.” 

“’N all that,” Cloud echoed with a faint smile, placing the box gently on the (clean!) floor. Nimble fingers worked over the latches holding the front plate on and a second later, three golden birds scooted out, interested in their newfound freedom and unfamiliar surroundings. He watched Cloud watch them closely, like he was wishing for the hens to accept their new home without complications. Seemingly, it was granted as all three clucked and shot off towards the coop, fluttered up the ramp and out of sight through the swinging door. He smiled, looking up at Squall from where he crouched. “They seem to like it here.” 

Squall’s brain was apparently malfunctioning and his brain-to-mouth filter broke, as the next moment after nodding in agreement to Cloud’s statement, he spewed out, “I think you would too if you wanna join me for coffee?” 

An awkward pause ensued. While Squall wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole (like it apparently did to his poor chickens), Cloud, rightfully so, stared as him like another head just popped out of his shoulder. Dazed blue eyes blinked a few times while the blond visibly contemplated his next move, or words. He, being the gentleman he was, figured it was only fair to give Cloud a way out and opened his mouth to withdraw the offer with as much nonchalance as he could mister, but Cloud beat him to it. 

A slight raise of a shoulder and an uncertain but curious smile sketched onto his face, murmuring, “We could go to the town—I do need a guide and I’m sure there’s a café somewhere.” 

Squall paused. Cloud was not only accepting his pre-morning-coffee suggestion but was entertaining further interaction with his lunatic of a neighbour. It was impossible that he’d made a good impression so early, so the simplest deduction was Cloud being masochistic and liking the pain that came alongside social interactions with hermits like himself. Raising a hand to ruffle the hair waving in his face, he ignored the background clucks of his regular hens coming over to inspect the ground for food (since he was out and provider of said nutrients), eyed Cloud with a weariness that came naturally to him and, beyond all reason, nodded his agreement. “Alright. I’ll be ready in five.” 

Promptly, he made his way back to the front of the house. Once there, he glanced back slightly over his shoulder and queried, “My truck or your bike?” 

Cloud, who tailed him closely like a lost puppy, lit up the yard with the smirk he sent Squall. “Bike—unless you can’t handle it.” 

Squall’s eyes narrowed in playful challenge. Not that anyone outside his inner circle knew what it looked like. “Five minutes, Strife.” 

“A second past that and I’m assuming you’ve backed out—uh,” Cloud paused midway into his retaliation and Squall realised he was yet to introduce himself. With a slither of awkwardness, the blond found an interesting patch on the floor to stare at, apparently incapable of asking a simple question. 

Squall decided to put Cloud out of his misery. Almost. “Leon.” 

It was daft how adorable it was when Cloud perked up at the revelation. He nodded, quirking him a half-smile. “Leon—tick tock.” 

Squall huffed in earnest astonishment from his neighbour’s audacity (and the depth of shock he was feeling at how well they hit it off) and hobbled his way back inside at a quicker pace than his norm. Efficiency was a skill he possessed, as was haste without magic being involved. Kicking off his yard boots and shrugging off the outdoor jacket on the way to his room, he wondered on whether Cloud carried a spare helmet with him for such happenstance that strange neighbours agreed to tagging along with his wild journeys. Entering his bedroom, he yanked open the closest door and pulled out the thickest pair of jeans he owned and SeeD-issued combat boots. Nudging the door shut with a hip, he dumped them on his bed before beelining for his drawers. Retrieving underwear from the top drawer, he dug out a plain old shirt from the middle one – those were dumped on the bed too. 

Briefly, he wondered about the state of his hair but shrugged it off – it’d be underneath a helmet, who cared? Wriggling off the pyjama pants (whoops at going commando to greet his neighbour for the first time), he dressed himself while keeping a flickering gaze on the bedside clock to watch the time. Three minutes and twenty-two seconds later, he was adequately dressed and ready to go. Theoretically. For a moment, he questioned where his mind had gone and what replaced it to make him so whimsical. Uncaring in the end, he shrugged off such thoughts at hearing the starting rumble of the alluring thing awaiting him (the bike was pretty neat too). 

Finally, Squall moseyed on to the front door again, picking up his trusty leather jacket along the way. Too often he’d been teased (or ridiculed) about the fur adorning the lining, but fuck those guys, he liked being warm, thank you very much. Pulling said jacket on as he exited his condo, grabbing keys, wallet and his cell phone along the way, bitter warmth greeted him already but he paid it no heed at the sight he was blessed with – Cloud straddling the beast, a pair of goggles sitting atop of blond spikes, arms crossed and peering at him with… clear admiration and perhaps a hint of amusement. 

Locking the front door with a snort, Squall then pointed the sharp enough key (to get his point across) at the blond, and said, “Not one word about the jacket, Strife.” A raised brow was his response. His own eyes narrowed. “I mean it.” 

Cloud raised his hands in a show of mock surrender and then lowered the goggles to shield his eyes. “No words said.” 

Squall nodded in approval while making his way over, studying the sleek machine. Obviously, his choice seat was behind Cloud, although it seemed it would be a tight fit for two grown adults. So what. Steeling his determination, he gritted his teeth and, after bracing himself on Cloud’s shoulder, swung his right leg over the bike to attain his seat. Unfortunately, it applied unnecessary pressure to his bad leg and a bolt of pain lanced through him. He went rigid and a concerned look shot over the shoulder he just leaned on. 

“I’m fine,” Squall growled out, a low warning poorly concealed within the words. Giving himself a minute to settle and for his head to stop pounding, he breathed in and out steadily, and then sighed. Only when he impulsively ran a hand through his own hair did he realise something critical: “Where’s your helmet?” 

A gleam came into blue eyes and Squall felt slight trepidation in his choice. “No helmet. Hold on tight.” 

The engine roared to life as Cloud twisted his right hand and Squall instinctively grabbed onto what was closest: Cloud’s jacket – procured from where, Squall didn’t know, but could certainly appreciate. Not a second later, they were tearing up Squall’s driveway, dust clouds and debris kicking up behind them as wheels scrambled for purchase. Before long rubber kissed tarmac and Cloud released the clutch, twisted the throttle, leaned forward and really started to move. The bike shot off like a rocket and Squall could only hold on for dear life, vice-grip on Cloud’s sides being switch for the more secure looping around his waist, face buried into the back of Cloud’s jacket, heart racing as fast as the vehicle he’d willingly jumped on, idly wondering if he’d make it out alive. 

Exhilarating was too tame a word to use in description for the feel of wind whipping his hair about. The sheer amount of fresh air hitting his throat when finally releasing the breath he’d been holding nearly made him choke (and he lived in the mountains already). Eyes watering immediately when he attempted to open them to view the rapidly passing countryside, he chose to keep them jammed shut, listening to the roar of the engine whenever Cloud accelerated and the pounding of his own heart that felt was about to leap out of his chest. 

Now to say Squall had lived a lively, fast-paced life so far would be a gross understatement, but there was something so utterly terrifying, yet breathlessly freeing, about riding so recklessly with a gorgeous stranger he’d just met. 

Liberating. 

[ladyoftheshrimp]

Percival is hit by a spell that turns off his brain to mouth filter. Suddenly he's babbling on about Seraphina's horrendous haircut, how his time with Grindelwald wasn't all that bad because at least the man can play chess and professing his undying love for one Newton Scamander because have you seen his hair? It's so soft, I love it so much, I wish he'd just kiss me but I'm too old for him.

The spell was something the fizzled out of a letter Percival’s secretary opened. Like the world’s most boring firework is fizzled and popped a slow meandering path to Percival where it gave a shower of sparks with a squeaky pop. As far as offensive spells went it was laughable. Of course there was an investigation into it, the origins of the letter and the spell were untraceable but so was the effect of the spell. Other than leaving the viewers feeling terribly disappointed there was no visible or detectable evidence left behind. The day continued on and the attempted spell was all but forgotten.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that things became a little more evident. Seraphina had graved the department with her presence and Percival was helping a junior auror with their report when she arrived. People greeted her and Percival rose, turning to say hello.

“Morgana’s tits you look like shit. Did a vulture make a nest of your hair this morning?” The shocked silence that filled the room was cold. Percival’s eyes went wide. “I mean. Even if Merlin had shaved half his ballsack with the aid of a geriatric goat’s nibbled it would have looked better than what has happened to you. Please put your headdress lower so we don’t have to keep staring at such a disaster.”

After gaping like a fish Percival turned away, cheeks red on a pale face.

“I’ll be in my office. Hopefully Newt will have left the lethifold there for my untimely demise. Not that he has a lethifold that is. Not at all. He has two.” A hand over his mouth Percival hurried into his office with as much dignity as he could muster. Everyone else stared in silence, looks were exchanged and nobody dared look at the president as she adjusted her headdress. Percival’s office door opened.

“I’m so sorry. But if anybody cares I’m okay. But I doubt you do. I’m not bitter at all. Just realistic. And could someone please bring me a shovel so I can dig this hole deep enough to qualify as a grave. Huh. Graves’ grave. Funny. People never appreciate my humour. Well, Grindelwald did. ” Percival shut the door while he muttered to himself. The few steps to his door and the sharp rap of Seraphina’s knuckles echoes through the silence. Nobody dared move as the door swung open.

“What do you want now, you bothersome pest? Don’t you have a country to run?” Someone let out a hysterical giggle even as Seraphina glowered. The door shut behind her with a certain amount of ominous finality. Immediately the mutters that had been held back erupted in a low murmur. It was only five minutes later that the door opened and their President and Director stood in the doorway.

“Please listen up, your Director has a few words to say.”

“My apologies to everyone for the little outburst, it would seem that we’ve found the effect of the miserable light show that dribbled out of the envelope much like sperm from a dick after a rubbish orgasm.” Seraphina elbowed him in the side. “What I mean is, if you are of a delicate nature and cannot stand brutal honesty you may go home and weep into your blanket because I am here to stay. I refuse to go home in case you forget that I exist and take in another maniac wearing my face because any direction is better than being left to your own pitiful existence.”

“Percival.” Seraphina’s voice was sharp.

“I am but your humble servant Madam Pussydent. Allow me to grovel at your feet while you bask in your untouchable elated station and let us plebs do your dirty work. Perhaps I might go down to the dungeons to relax. I did enjoy the isolation of my own damp basement to be honest. It was much more mentally stimulating than signing forms here all day. At least then when I had company it was of the vaguely intelligent kind. Nobody here knows how to play chess. Perhaps that will be the next skill to develop during training.”

The titters that went up around the room seemed to bring Percival back to himself and he stared at the floor. Even Seraphina looked torn between outrage and entertainment. She patted Percival on the arm and turned to the room.

“What your director means to say is, he will be in his office for the rest of the day. Please do no disturbed him unless it is absolutely vital and try to communicate with him in writing rather than verbally until the spell has run its effect.”

Everyone nodded but a few of the braver ones were already planning ways to exploit the amusement they could have at their boss’ expense. Just before people could return to their jobs the door opened again.

“Now there’s a fine specimen I wouldn’t mind examining up close and personal.” Percival’s comment slipped by almost unnoticed as people watched Newt amble in. He greeted a few of the aurors as he walked past. “I was born in the wrong decade.” Percival continued with a sigh. Seraphina looked at him and lost her battle against a light snort.

“Hello Percival.” Newt reached them finally.

“I wish you’d kiss me to say hello instead.” Percival’s mouth was running away again. Newt looked taken aback but a pleased flush spread across his cheeks. People watched with great interest at the latest developments in the disaster that their boss had become.

“Yeah?” Newt asked softy.

“Yes. Because then I could run my hands through your hair. It looks so soft, doesn’t it Sera? But I would get really jealous if you touched it. So don’t. Can I pet you?” Percival’s eyes were back on Newt. The room collectively held its breath as Newt reached forward and grabbed Percival’s hand, he guided it up towards his hair as he leaned in for a light kiss on a cheek.

“Perhaps I’d let you do more in your office.” Newt murmured with a sly grin. Without hesitation Percival grabbed his hand and pulled him back into his office. Before the door had a chance to close Percival stuck his head out. His tie was loose around his neck.

“In case you’re all too dumb to figure out. Do not disturb, I’m about to get laid. And nobody judge that I put out before a first date.”

[bekaroth-reads]

Will Cipher

Will just wanted to get home. He wasn't too used to this dimension yet. It wasn't like this dimension was horrible or anything. It was actually quite nice. The problem was that he had to move around a lot until he finally found this one. Of course, Will would not have had to move in the first place if his dimension of origin was still habitable, but that was something that he did not want to think about right now. He tried to push the bad memories behind him and keep moving home. He was going down the street of the busy city that he was in while trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, when the screen in a shop window showing the news caught his attention. "In other news: a small dimension, on a section known as Gravity Falls, Earth by the locals of the area is undergoing a lot of changes. Bill Cipher and some of his associates are planning on changing the area to their ideal living space, similar to what Cipher did with his home dimension. There have been reports that the Great Time Baby was notified of the situation, but has not acted as of yet..." The news caster said very uncaringly. Will knew that no one here was going to care about what Bill was doing. Not only was it not happening here in this dimension, but most of them probably did not even know the extent of thing that were done in his home dimension. Even thought there was little to no chance that the news was wrong, Will still wanted to see for himself if his brother was really up to his old tricks again. "I guess I'll have to go to where Bill and all of his friends usually hang out to see." Will sighed as he started heading in that direction. When he got to the more shady part of town where he usually found Bill, he was immediately informed that Bill had indeed gone into the other dimension from the giant X-shaped rift in the sky. Will did not want to get in the middle of whatever it was that his brother was doing, but at the same time he did not want the beings in the dimension on the other side of the rift to have to go through what he did. There was something that was underlying all of his emotions, and that was fear. Fear was what made him want to stay away from his brother and his friends. They were not mean or cruel to him, or anything like that. In fact, all of them liked him, especially Bill. But, there were so many bad memories with the group. When Will had went to find help for his anxiety, he had been told that almost all of his mental health problems were related to the memories that he had from the past. He was quite young when Bill changed their dimension, and as a result he saw everything as a threat, as something that could and would harm him. That fear was what was holding him from going through the rift. "Get ahold of yourself, Will." He whispered to himself as he braced himself to go through. Fear or not, he had to see what his brother was up to. And, if worse came to worst, he could just go back through the rift, and go home and cry himself to sleep. That's what he usually did in these situations. Get himself through it and let all of his emotions out later. With that he levitated himself up to the rift and braced himself for the worst. When Will got to the other side, he was surprised to see that everything still looked fairly normal. "Never mind." He groaned when he looked down and saw the giant, floating pyramid. Okay, so Bill had mad a giant building inspired by the shape of himself for him and his friends to hang out in, that wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed. That's when the giant goat and the hissing water tower walked by. Well, that wasn't anything that couldn't be easily reversed and set back to normal. And then an eyeball with bat wings flew past the giant head with the arm coming off of the top of it, and turned a person into stone before flying to the pyramid with the new statue. "Alright, this is awful." He sighed as he got ready to go back through the rift. He had seen enough to know that he really did not want to know what else his brother has been doing here. Right before he could get to his destination, someone called out to him, and he froze. "Oh, my gosh! Will? Will Cipher? What are you doing here?" The voice was defiantly one that he recognized as one of Bill's friends. "O-Oh. H-hi, Pyronica." He replied as he turned back around to see the fire being that had called out to him. Wanting nothing more than to just go home and leave all this behind him, Will thought of something else to say to her before he could get dragged into anything. "I, uh, just came to see what Bill's done to the place real quick, and was just on my way." He said hurriedly as he started to head for the rift once more. "What? No, no, no! You can't leave yet! Everyone will want to see you! Come on, join the party!" She said happily as she grabbed his hand and started to take him back to the pyramid with her. If there was one thing that Will would say that he absolutely hated that would be parties. With all the people, and everyone drinking way too much space punch, and just how loud they were in general, it made the whole thing seem horrendous. There was one big problem with this situation, though, and that would be the fact that Will was a pushover. That being said, he let Pyronica pull him to the pyramid, stuttering and mumbling about his discomfort the entire time. When they got to where they were going, Pyronica quickly hid Will behind her back. "Hey, guys! Guess what I just found!" She called out to the others in the pyramid before her tone changed to a confused one suddenly. "Wait, where's Bill?" She asked when she saw that the throne that he sat on was empty. "He went out for awhile." The large set of teeth with arms and legs that was named Teeth replied. "Well, that sucks for him because he'd definitely be the most excited about what I just picked up." She replied with a grin. "What is it already?!" Kyptos yelled, unable to contain his excitement any longer. Pyronica moved out of the way with a, "Tah-dah!" , and a sweeping arm motion to reveal Will floating there. "Will!" They all shouted at once and went over to him. They were all saying things and patting him on the back and what not, but he was not able to focus on any of it. "Touching me! There are so many people surrounding and touching me!" He thought nervously as he tried to calm himself down. Finally, they all seemed to go back to doing their own thing, and he floated over to an area where he would have some space. His nerves started to get to him again, however, when he looked over to see a thrown made out of stone people, all of which had agony on their faces. He floated there awkwardly as he felt more and more put off by the party. The next thing he knew, Teeth went flying across the room from whatever it was they were doing, and landed right in front of him. "Heya, Will." Teeth said as he stood up. "Hey, Teeth." Will responded. "This place is great, right?" Teeth asked excitedly. "Uh, yeah. Sure..." Will responded hesitantly before looking back over to the throne to his side. "What's with the chair?" "What's up, my party people?" The loud voice caught the attention of everyone before Will could get his answer. There was no mistaking that voice. Will would know it anywhere. Bill floated through the opening of the pyramid and towards the throne. He stopped suddenly when he got closer and rubbed his eye. "Wait a minute! Who's that over by Teeth?" Bill questioned excitedly as he flew down to where his brother was. "H-hi, Bill." Will said meekly with a little wave. "Blue! How've you been?" Bill practically yelled as he put an arm around his brother and took him to the front of the throne. "Go ahead. Sit down." Bill said as motioned to the seat of the throne. Will glanced over to see different screaming faces than he had seen on the other side of the throne. "Um, no thanks..." He mumbled, hoping that him declining would not make Bill angry. Thankfully it seemed that Bill did not mind. In fact, it seemed that Bill even noticed that his brother was getting nervous with being around everyone for so long. "Come on, Blue. The two of us have got some catching up to do." Bill took his brother's hand and headed toward the top of the room. The two of them fazed through the ceiling, and found themselves in what Will could only assume was Bill's room. He looked around to see things that were typical of his brother; a piano, a couch that looked like it was made of some sort of flesh, a giant picture of himself above the fireplace. Will sighed internally at that last one as Bill started to talk to him. "So, Little Boy Blue, how do you like what I've done with the place?" Bill asked as he floated over to the piano and started to play something. "It's... It's alright, I guess..." Will mumbled, hoping that his brother did not hear him. No dice on that thought, because as soon as he responded, Bill stopped playing and went over to him. "What's wrong?" He asked his brother on a tone that made it hard to distinguish weather he was asking what was wrong with what he was doing or what was wrong with Will. "N-nothing!" Will stuttered out quickly, hoping that his answer would be enough for his brother to drop the subject. "No," Bill started with slight annoyance in his voice, "I know you, and if you're not giving me a straight answer. Now tell me what's wrong." The tone of Bill's voice made it clear to Will that it would not be wise to try to hide his feelings from his brother anymore. But, there was still the fact that he was afraid to tell Bill that he thought that what he was doing wasn't right. Not many beings crossed Bill Cipher and lived to tell about it. If they did, they wished that they had not. After a moment of building up the nerves to talk to his brother again, Will managed to squeak out, "I-it's j-j-just that... It might- It might end up like... like home." Bill's demeanor changed from frustrated to confused. He could tell that Will was upset, but he did not know why. "What's wrong with how our home dimension is now?" He asked truly wanting to know what Will's answer would be. The fact that Bill felt nothing, not even a shred of guilt for all he had done, for all of the lives that he had ruined in their home made something in Will snap, and his fear gave way to raw emotion. "What's wrong with our home dimension?" Will started as he grew in size and his voice started to distort. "Spontaneous explosions, spontaneous implosions, poisonous butterflies that purposefully fly into people's mouths, and many other things that would literally take me YEARS to list! It's considered completely uninhabitable, even for you and your friends!" Bill usually would not let anyone yell at him the way his brother just did, but he knew better than to match Will's rage at the moment. There was always a point where Bill could make his brother simmer down back into his usual meek and quiet self with a few harsh and reprimanding words, but not when he was angry like this. At the end of the day, Bill and Will were cut from the same cloth, and Bill knew that crossing an angry Will would be just as stupid as someone crossing himself. Bill decided that he would need to try to be diplomatic in order to calm his brother down. "Sure, everything is all messed up now," Bill started with a shrug, "but it was fun, right?" The last part had just the right amount of threat to it that Will knew he was about to cross the line of Bill's patients for him, and that he better settle down. Will wanted to tell Bill that he was crazy if he thought that he had fun with all of his brothers escapades, the very ones that caused him to be fearful of almost everything now, the ones that made him not want to talk to anyone for worry that someone might link him to his yellow sibling or, even worse, mistake him for Bill. There was no way that he would actually be able to, though. Will was and will always be afraid of crossing his brother, and that would never change. He just gave a huff and floated towards the ceiling with the intent of fazing through it. "I'm leaving." He said as he turned back to his brother. "There's no telling how this whole thing is gonna end, so just... Just be careful, Bill." Will looked at his brother with pleading in his eye in an effort to show him that deep down he really did care for his brother, even if he did not agree with everything that he did. "Don't worry, Will. Everything will be fine." Bill responded as his gaze softened slightly. And with that, Will left. Will felt a sense of unease as he headed back to the rift. He knew that Bill was more than capable of looking out for himself, and that he would be extra cautious, a fact that was solidified when he called Will by his actual name and not one of the many nicknames that he had, something that Bill only did when he was being very serious. Still, Will felt as if this would be the last time he would see his brother, and part of him wanted to stay with him longer. The majority of his being, however, was telling him that he needed to get out of this place as soon as he could, like he had already been here too long. Either way, something was going to go down here, and he was not going to be around when it did.

[thetruthseekerway]

The Emergence of Gog and Magog

New Post has been published on http://www.truth-seeker.info/oasis-of-faith/emergence-gog-magog/

The Emergence of Gog and Magog

By Truth Seeker Staff

They will drink up all the water of that lake and by the time those that constitute the latter part of that same army pass the lake, they will say, “There used to be water here (long ago)

During the reign of Prophet `Isa (Jesus) (peace be upon him), who will descend at the end of time before Doomsday, people will live an extremely peaceful life filled with prosperity and abundance. Then the wall which imprisons Ya’juj and Ma’juj (Gog and Magog, who are the tribes which inhabited the land behind two huge mountains) will break and they will surge forth in large numbers.

This is recorded in the Glorious Qur’an, in the verse (which means): “But when Ya’juj and Ma’juj are let loose and they rush headlong down every hill.” (Al-Anbiya’ 21:97)

Who are Gog and Magog?

Dhul Qarnayn, who was a pious and just ruler, traveled to many lands and liberated them, establishing justice and the Law of Allah therein. Allah, the Most Exalted, provided him with material strength through which he was able to carry out his liberation campaigns and missions.

He once carried out a mission in three directions, the far west, the far east, and then in a northerly direction. It was here that he came across a tribe of people who complained to him about the tribes of God and Magog which inhabited the land behind two huge mountains and often emerged from behind these mountains to perpetrate acts of anarchy and plunder among them. They requested Dhul Qarnayn to erect a barrier between themselves and the tribes of God and Magog so that they could be saved from their atrocities.

With the material strength at his disposal, Dhul Qarnayn enlisted their physical labor and set about erecting a high wall between the two mountains. The height of the wall or its exact length is unknown. What is known is that the height of this wall reaches that of the summit of both mountains. It is made with blocks or sheets of iron, which is further strengthened by molten brass. In this manner, Gog and Magog are unable to scale the wall, or cross it, except when it is the Will of Allah.

Allah Almighty says (what means): “… And when the promise of my Lord approaches (Doomsday), He will level it (the barrier) to dust.” (Al-Kahf 18:98)

Gog and Magog are situated in a land which is hidden from our gazes and the exact location of which is unknown.

Though many interpretations do exist in this respect, none of these can be said to be absolute.

They are human beings and, according to a narration, they are from the progeny of Yafith Ibn Nuh (Japheth son of Noah).

Some narrations about Gog and Magog

1- In a lengthy narration reported by Al-Nawwas Ibn Sam`an (may Allah be pleased with him), Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said:

“…Allah will send revelation upon `Isa that ‘Such a creation of mine is now going to emerge that no power will be able to stop them. Therefore, take my servants and ascend the Mount of Tur.’ Then, Gog and Magog will emerge and surge forth in all their fury.

When those from among them who constitute the former part of their army pass the lake of Tiberias (which is in northern Palestine), they will drink up all the water of that lake and by the time those that constitute the latter part of that same army pass the lake, they will say, “There used to be water here (long ago). When they reach the Mount of Khamr in Jerusalem, they will arrogantly proclaim: ‘We have conquered the people of the earth, now we will annihilate those in the sky.’ So saying, they will fire their arrows towards the sky. When the arrows return to the ground they will be blood-stained.

In the meantime, `Isa will be on the Mount of Tur with his followers. At that time, the head of an ox will be as valuable as is a hundred Dinars (gold currency) to you in this day. [This indicates the scarcity of provisions]. Faced with these hardships, `Isa and his followers will supplicate unto Allah (to remove this calamity). As a result, Allah will cause sores to appear on the necks of each and every individual of these people which will cause their death suddenly.

When `Isa and his followers descend from the Mount of Tur, there will not be a single space on the land where the dead rotting bodies of these people is not littered, giving off a horrendous odour. `Isa and his followers will once more supplicate unto Allah as a result of which Allah will send down huge birds whose necks will be as thick as those of camels and they will dump these bodies in a place where Allah Wills. (According to a narration by Tirmidhi, they will be dumped at a place called Nahbal).

Allah will then send down a heavy rain, the waters of which will flow in every part of the earth cleansing it thoroughly. It will rain for a period of forty days.

The Muslims will then burn the bows and arrows of the Gog and Magog for a period of seven years.

Allah will order the earth to yield forth its crops in abundance and there will be such blessing and prosperity that one pomegranate will be sufficient for a whole group, while the peel thereof will suffice to cast a shadow over them. The milk of one she-camel will be sufficient for many groups, one milk-giving cow will be sufficient for a whole tribe and one milk-giving goat will be sufficient for a whole family…” [Sahih Muslim]

2- Zaynab Bint Jahsh (may Allah be pleased with her) said: “… Allah’s Messenger (peace be upon him) once awoke from such a sleep that his face was red and these words were on his tongue: ‘There is none worthy of worship except Allah. Destruction is upon the Arabs on account of the evil which has come close to them. Today a hole as big as this has opened up in the wall of Gog and Magog. (He indicated the size of the hole by forming a ring with his index finger and thumb.” [Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

3- Abu Hurayrah (may Allah be pleased with him) narrated that: “Every day Gog and Magog break (dig) through the wall erected by Dhul Qarnayn until they reach the end of it, to that extent that they can actually see the light on the other side. They then return (home) saying that ‘We will resume tomorrow.’ But Allah Almighty causes the wall to return to its original thickness, and the next day they start digging through the wall all over again. This process continues each day until as long as Allah Wills them to remain imprisoned. When Allah Wills them to be released, then at the end of the day they will say, “If Allah Wills, tomorrow we will break through.” The following day they will find the wall as they had left it the previous day (i.e. it will not have returned to its original state) and after breaking the remaining part of it they will emerge.” [Ahmad, Al-Tirmidhi and Ibn Majah]

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Taken with slight editorial modifications from http://www.islamweb.net.