#i don't believe or disbelieve in god but if god does exist i want

[apollos-olives]

thank you for answering my ask. i didn't want to make any assumptions nor did i want to harm or offend you or anyone who is queer by sending it.

I myself am Muslim and I have met Muslims who are queer, trans, part of the lgbtq+ but i never really understood their understanding when it came to Islam and homosexuality as few of the Muslims I've met were practicing and most seemed to deny many parts of Islam to justify being queer which didn't make sense. Your response has made me understand it though and I do appreciate it as the concept of homosexuality and Islam is almost 90% discussed by people/scholars who are not queer.

I am by no means trying to turn this into a religious discussion because I am not learned but what you said about a singular sin being a singular did stand out to me. Although I've always known that as a fact, I've never actually took into consideration what it meant in it's entirety, although Islam does have the concept of major sins and minor sins, so wouldn't that have an impact?

But again while I was reading your answer, I found myself nodding because your response was very much logical and made sense to me. You mentioned that everything that is a sin has a particular reasoning behind it and that homosexuality being a sin has no real reasoning behind it and I don't have anything to refute your point with. But I will bring lgbtq+ activists who discuss things like being queer, homosexual, trans, etc to children as children can be influenced easily (btw I'm speaking specifically about people like Jeffery Marsh) into the discussion as something I disagree heavily with.

Many scholars have also discussed story of prophet Lut (AS) which really is the only story where homosexuality is ever mentioned and while I do agree that the homosexuality aspect of the story is focused on more than what is necessary, if the homosexual part wasn't important would it then be put in the Quran. And if homosexuality was not a sin, then shouldn't their be examples of homosexuality in the Quran or hadiths? I don't expect this to have a concrete answer as even I will admit that I can use this "what about" argument for literally everything that is not directly mentioned in the Quran.

The one thing I do disagree with is the transitioning of trans people - not because I don't believe in gender dysphoria or that I disbelieve in people being transgender - but I do believe that the permanent altercation of a person's body is haram because although you stated that perhaps transitioning might be the best option for people who are trans and you compared it to people who are disfigured (as an example) to me it still seems as an act that goes against God's will because doesn't Islam have the concept, that the more difficult the struggle, the better the reward? Forgive me if this is a terrible assertion to make as I am speaking from a heterosexual point of view and my understanding of your struggles will not be the same as actually experiencing your struggles.

At the end of the day we all are Muslim and I am a firm believer that as long as no one purposefully tries to harm Islam and spread misinformation, only God can judge. I do not agree with majority of Muslims who deem it appropriate to condemn people to Hell simply for existing as I do believe that people who are not heterosexual 90% of the time are not making their struggles up, nor are they making false claims. Regardless of my opinion on whether or not homosexuality is a sin, I admire your attitude towards it and I do believe that Allah loves all. Allah is All-loving after all and Allah does not make mistakes nor does He intentionally do things to harm anyone.

Thank you for your perspective and for teaching me something I genuinely did not know. I hope that this ask does not come across as hostile because these are simply my thoughts and I am more than willing to open my mind to different perspectives.

i'm glad you're being very respectful with your disagreements and i'm happy to answer anything as long as it's in good faith. thank you for being so kind :)

i will say that yes you are right that many queer muslims are not practicing and often stray away from islam to justify their queerness, and i've seen it happen from a lot of queer muslims around me. i do believe it's not because their faith is weak or that they purposely are doing it with the intent of malice, but i think it's because a lot of people have trauma when it comes to religion. religious trauma affects many people in the world, even outside of islam. almost every queer muslim i've ever met has been religiously traumatized, and therefore are afraid of islam and the people who practice it out of the concern that they may be harmed again. while islam is beautiful, the people who practice it can harm those who do not follow it properly in their eyes. i personally have religious trauma that my parents gave me over being queer, but i've moved on from it and have accepted myself regardless. unfortunately that is not the case for every muslim, and queer muslims especially are targeted and harmed more and more as of recently. because of that religious trauma, queer muslims are likely to stray away from allah and islam because they associate islam with their mental, emotional, and bodily harm. and i absolutely understand it as well. not everyone will get it, but it's understandable how you will want to stray away from religion when it has only harmed you. i believe that is the biggest factor when queer muslims deny parts of their islam in order to "justify" being queer.

you are right in that islam does have major sins and minor sins. of course, i am not a scholar so anyone could correct me if i'm wrong, but while there are major sins and minor sins, i still believe that sins are singular. to me, a major sin would affect like... a persons own moral judgement about their actions, if that makes sense? like a major sin would weigh down on someone's chest more than a minor sin would, and would therefore make the person want to repent even more. while all sins count the same, some have more of a guilt to them that may affect a person and their relationship with allah. me eating gelatin isn't going to be as heavy of a sin on my shoulders as, for example god forbid, me stealing from orphans, right? they're both sins and equal in count, but not equal in weight. if that makes sense? that's how i view it. a major sin affects a person more personally and affects their relationship with their deen and their relationship with allah, rather than count as more or multiple sins on their shoulder. you are, of course, allowed to disagree with me, this is just how i view it. alhamdulillah god gave us all our own minds to think and make decisions and beliefs and values for ourselves.

i personally don't know who jeffrey marsh is, but i do understand your concern about children. the thing is, children can be queer too 🤷‍♂️ i found myself being attracted to the same sex as young as 3 years old. i, of course, did not realize there was a term for this until i was 11 where i fully came out as queer, but i felt horribly repressed and did not know what those feelings were until i was told that they were normal to have. so i do believe that at least exposing children to the fact that "hey, queer people exist and that's okay :)" is... okay 👍 yk? and of course, exposing children to stuff that is sexual and inappropriate is wrong, no matter if it's heterosexual or homosexual, but i don't believe any queer person is advocating to harm any children by telling children about basic queer education. there IS a lot of queer discourse over this within the lgbtq+ community, and discussions about whether or not children should be involved are still happening to this day. you can feel free to have your own opinions, but you must respect others beliefs as long as they aren't harming anyone. personally, i think it's okay to expose kids to queer media and reality, as long as they are not forced to. kids are naturally curious 🤷‍♂️ let them explore. if more queer media was available when i was little, i would've for sure have come out as queer when i was muchhh younger even. and 11 was pretty young anyway lol. the thing is, being queer isn't inherently sexual. there are different types of queerness and a lot of it isn't sexual at all. there's romantic love, platonic love, aesthetic love, etc etc etc. implying that being queer is solely sexual only harms the community more. i'm asexual (as a general term), which means i do not want to have sex. ever. i just look for romantic relationships instead. there are different types of queer love and not all of them are sexual. is sex a big part of queer history and liberation? yeah. but is being queer just about sex sex and more sex? absolutely not. being queer is about accepting yourself for who you are. and why not show kids that? why not allow kids to explore and accept themselves for who they are as well? the moment people realize that the queer community isn't inherently sexual and that queerness is for everyone to feel accepted in, that's when we become more and more liberated. and the thing is, you don't see heterosexuals get the same problem with children though. heterosexuals always get to kiss in public, hold hands, get married. they dominate the whole world. no one has ever been discriminated against for being a heterosexual. heterosexuals see a boy baby and a girl baby play together and be like "oh my god they're boyfriend and girlfriend lol!" ... like... is that not forcing children into romantic situations and possibly implying sexual stuff too?? how is it fair that heterosexuals get to "force" their children into being heterosexual but god forbid a homosexual holds hands with their partner in public while minding their own business, yk? no one is forcing children to do anything. we are just trying to expose the reality of what we are facing to the world so they can realize we are normal and can accept us. no one chooses to be queer or trans. no one chooses to live a life of pain and struggle and oppression. we feel love the same way everyone else feels love. do heterosexuals get to choose who they fall in love with? no. love isn't a choice. love just happens. you can't force and choose someone to love someone else. love is unconditional and free.

as i said before, homosexuality was never mentioned in the qur'an. the word used in the qur'an does not mean homosexuality, it was talking about the indecent and horrific acts of rape, pedophilia, premarital sex, infidelity, etc that the people of sayedna lut (as) were doing. and while we've already talked about how homosexuality is not a sin, i do want to mention that the swana region has a very rich queer history to it! i personally am not very knowledgeable about this but i'm sure if i ask the right people, if you want me to, i can give you resources to learn about queer history around the islamic countries. before colonization and western ideals had been spread through the land, swana was a very queer place. so while homosexuality was never mentioned in the qur'an or in the hadiths or whatever else, queer people have been existing for thousands and thousands of years. we have always existed and will continue to. i'm not sure if this story is true but i believe prophet muhammad had an experience with some trans or "femenine men" during his time? in any case, i think looking more into queer history would be great to learn more about how islam and queerness are related to each other.

your concern over trans people transitioning is understandable. while i've already explained it before, i think the best way to think about it is like. trans people are often suicidal. the percentage of trans minors who commit suicide each year is genuinely horrific. if transitioning is the only thing that can help them become healthy again, then allah will allow it. allah wants the best for us and wants us to be happy and healthy. being trans is a health and science related issue. i don't really know how to explain it to you since you are not trans yourself, but please try to understand that you honestly might never actually understand what it's like. being trans is a type of experience that differs for everyone, and if you aren't trans yourself, you may never understand what it's like to feel the need to transition. transitioning is hard, it's long, the process is incredibly expensive. no one is doing it for leisure. people do it for their health and to become healthy again. isn't it haram to not eat pig if you're starving and on deaths door? didn't allah say it's haram for you to not eat or drink something, even if previously told not to, if it'll save your life? didn't allah say that you can do anything to your body and break any rule as long as it's for your health so you survive? being trans is like that. often, transitioning is something that is for health, not for leisure. i can't explain what dysphoria feels like, but it's miserable. it's always being afraid of calls because you are afraid of speak with your voice because it sounds wrong to you. it's wanting to dig your nails into your skin and tear off your flesh because you hate it you hate it you hate it. it's wanting to grab a knife and chop off parts of your body. it's wanting to scream and sob and rot. it's wanting to wear extremely unsafe tight clothing to try to look the way you want to. it's wanting to vomit every time someone calls you the wrong gender. it's the horrific feeling of utter dread hearing your deadname from people you love. it's the urge to just end it all. it'd be so nice to just end it all. if no one will give me what i need, the best option is to end it all. it's horrible and awful and there is nothing to fix it. it only gets worse and worse in most cases, to the point where people start harming themselves and many trans youth end up killing themselves. is it not haram to forbid people from getting treatment? no matter how much that changes them? isn't it all in the name of health and safety? yes, allah said that the harder the challenge, the more rewards you get, but allah did not make us to suffer. allah is already challenging us by making us trans in the first place. that challenge is lifelong, even if we transition. discrimination is still a challenge and still kills people every day. allah loves us and wants the best for us. i don't expect you to completely understand, since you aren't trans yourself, but this is how much it affects us. transition is necessary and it MUST be available for people to receive. and even if you still don't agree... so what? who are you to judge and decide who and who doesn't get to do what they want with their own body? everyone owns their body and ONLY their own body. no one should judge or condemn anyone else for doing what they want with their own body as long as it's not harming anyone else.

we are all muslim, and we all must support each other, no matter how different our views are, because allah loves us all and wants the best for us. thank you for asking, this is a great discussion to have :)

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Ghost Rebel's New Brainrot For Sagau!Genshin

Alright, so I've been thinking a little (not a lot, I'll admit it) but hear me out:

If Creator!Reader is an atheist, would that mean that they lack the belief of themselves and their own existence? Bc, according to google, atheist is defined as

"a person who disbelieves or lacks belief in the existence of God or gods."

Now, this can be confusing a little, because Genshin has already showed as gods like Venti, Zhongli, Ei, and Nahida. For the sake of this prompt (and for everyone's brains bc I feel like I'm incinerating them), let's just write that Atheist!Reader acknowledges that yes, they are gods, but they treat them like humans. Meaning Ei and Nahida would be considered as a "Human of Royalty" or whatever, Venti would be just any other Bard, and Zhongli is just any other mysterious person. This may go the same with immortals, if you want. So for Xiao, Yae Miko, Faruzan, The Wanderer, etc., Reader just sees them as people with long lives.

To add a bit more drama into this (imo at least), Reader doesn't believe that there is a "Divine Creator" of Teyvat, as we all know that the Primordial One (Is their name Phanes? I don't remember) was the one who created Celestia and basically started the God Era. Reader doesn't think much about how the world of Teyvat was created in the first place, and tbh who would?- Not me that's for sure

So when characters start having dialogue of the Divine Creator and all that, Reader shrugs it off as some sort of religion that people just like to believe in. They show no regard in having faith that the Creator is actually real. I feel like the Characters might be overwhelmed by this idea.

Until they get thrown into Genshin and then there's suddenly a hunt going on bc someone stole their face and is now dubbing the Reader as the Imposter when really, it's vise versa. The Reader realizes they are the creator, and they are, rather unfortunately, god of gods or smth like that.

Perhaps after the entire fiasco is over Reader is so fed up with the religion of worshipping them they demand that it be erased from Teyvat completely. And I can imagine the characters going a little crazy about that. The Creator wants to delete their own religion? Why is that? Have they not repent enough?

And if one of them does have the guts to ask the Reader this, I can imagine them going like "Because I'm atheist and I can't be an atheist if I'm god."

Idk anymore lol- my brainrots are very complex and weird-

#sagau brainrot #imposter sagau #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #sagau cult au

[hollers-and-holmes]

This might not be controversial in your circles, I don't know; it certainly has been in my life.

Your take on miracles seen as 'supernatural' still happening in this day and age? Such as healing someone 'stand up and walk' style or transforming substances? Adjacently, interacting with the unseen things - not only the demons we rebuke but the angels that are our allies?

Alright, this one could get proof-texty if I let it and that would be not so much a take as an essay, so I’m going to splatter up a handful of short bullets instead and you guys can poke me for further clarification or to object if you want.

👻 I’m a cessationist, which is a schmancy term to describe what I believe about the miraculous gifts of the Spirit we see in the New Testament accounts, namely healing, prophesy, and speaking in tongues.

👻 Definitions matter. We are talking here of the ways these gifts manifested themselves to members of the early church. I am not saying that God does not still heal people or that no one has ever miraculously understood a language not their own.

👻 I am saying that these gifts are no longer dispensed as gifts, that is, as abilities that the gifted person can wield at will. If you have the gift of teaching, you carry it around in your pocket and can apply it whenever you like all your life without a special zap from the Holy Spirit to kick it off. If there were still members of the Body who could do this with healing cancer or raising the dead, we would have records of it.

👻 But the main reason I believe this is not evidential, but theological. In Scritpure, miraculous abilities were given to men who were speaking with the authority of God Himself. Moses, Elijah, Elisha, Christ, the Apostles… “The God of Abraham has told me to tell you…” The fact that reality itself obeyed them was was meant as an evidence to the fact that God had chosen them to speak His word to the people.

👻 We no longer need men like this. Why? Because we have a perfect spoken Word. Hebrews 1 says:

“Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world.”

God has spoken to us with authority and finality in the revealing of Christ, and this speaking needs no improvement. The apostles were writing Holy Scripture and so the miraculous gifts they wielded (at will—Paul could heal anyone he pleased, but even this gift shows evidence of decline in his later writings as the completion of the written canon approaches) gave credence to their words, in a similar way to Moses who came before Pharaoh, spoke the words God had given him to speak, and then backed them up with real physics-breaking miracles.

👻 As for the question regarding the angelic realm, I’ll quote Jack regarding the dark side:

“There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight.”

And regarding the light side I’ll say that we have zero scriptural evidence of human people being the ones to initiate angelic contact (I mean this like—no one summoned a “good” angel at will, as far as I know—they arrive on the scene at God’s bidding and not man’s). We have no instructions from the authors on how to lawfully interact with angels besides being hospitable to strangers, because we might be unknowingly entertaining a messenger of God.

I grew up in charismatic circles and learned many unscriptural things regarding the supernatural and the ways Christians should interact with it, so it’s very possible I am overcautious now to compensate for that. God seems to wish for us to let Him worry about the heavenly hosts and their fallen counterparts, because there just isn’t a lot of solid teaching on our relationship with them. We’re to be obedient: this causes the devil to flee and causes the angels to rejoice. But still our orientation is toward Christ.

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Night Shift

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,189

Warnings: a few bad language words (sorry Stevie), fluff, I think that’s all

Summary: Your bad day turns worse when you're given the night shift at work. But you find it has more perks than you original thought. 

A/N: Here it is! My first ever posted/published work! This is a bit new for me for quite a few reasons. 1. I usually write OCs. 2. I'm used to writing 3rd POV and past tense. 3. I like writing series and longer fics. 4k is actually pretty mild for me. Also, I'm planning on doing more first date fics with the Avengers, but we'll see if I keep up with that. Thank you and enjoy!

(Pictures not mine but collage is)

Today is not your favorite day. You woke up late, your laundry isn’t done because the machines were all being used when you tried, your roommate didn’t do the dishes so you had to do them before you left, your car broke down - meaning you had to take the Subway - and now you’re working an extra shift because your stupid coworker didn’t show up.

Who even comes in to get coffee at 9 at night? The sky is dark, the stars are out, and everyone should be getting ready for bed - including you. God. You love New York, but sometimes you wish the damn city would just go to sleep for once in it’s goddamn existence.

You’re practically asleep on your feet, getting ready to close in fifteen minutes, when the door opens, the little bell ringing in response. You rub your eyes and turn from where you’re wiping down the back counters to speak to the wackjob who wants coffee at this cursed hour.

You freeze, your eyes meeting stunning azures framed by dark lashes. Thick, soft, chocolate locks fall down past his ears and into those alluring eyes. Lips, perfectly pink and very tempting, pull up in a delicious smile. He’s got a jawline sharp as a knife, only accentuated by the dark scruff covering it. Jesus Christ this man is attractive. He’s also vaguely familiar…

He strolls up to the counter, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans that pulled taunt around his thick thighs. His shirt is pulled tightly across his shoulders, muscles flexing beneath the fabric, threatening to tear the material with every movement.

“Hello.” You thank whatever deity that might be out there that your voice doesn’t shake as you greet the gorgeous god of a man.

“Hi there, doll. Cody’s off today, huh?” Even his voice is breathtaking.

“Yeah. He didn’t show up. Is he a friend of yours?”

The man tilts his head in confusion, before his eyes light up realization. “Oh, no. No. I just come here a lot.”

“At nine at night?”

He shrugs, a small blush rising on his cheeks. “It’s the only time I get to myself really.” It clicks in your head who this man is when he raises his hand to rub the back of his neck. Black metal gleams in place of tanned skin.

“You’re Bucky Barnes!” You blink at him in disbelief. His hand quickly finds its way back to his pocket while he chuckles awkwardly. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’re one of my favorite Avengers! After Black Widow, obviously, but-” You stop rambling, feeling heat rise to your face. “God, I’m tired. Uh, what can I get you?” You punch in the order that he gives you and look up shyly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

He smirks and leans on the counter. “How about a name, darlin'? Yours, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, unable to contain the snort you give. “I’ll be right back with your order, sir.” You start making his drink, avoiding his eyes that you feel watching your every move. Usually you had another worker helping to make drinks, but since there’s only ten minutes until closing, you’re alone to close up the shop tonight.

You also usually only write on the cup when there’s more than one person, but you find yourself writing down your own name on his cup. It is part of his order, after all.

“Here you go.” You repeat his order, handing his cup to him.

He raises an amused eyebrow. “You forgot-” You interrupt him by clicking your tongue and turning the cup in his hands. He looks down at it curiously, before grinning and reading the ink out loud. The way your name falls off his lips has you holding in a shiver. “Thanks, sugar.” You watch him leave the shop, whistling a nameless tune, and wonder if Cody would mind switching shifts more.

Turns out, Cody had been arrested, so your boss had to hire a new kid who, because of school, couldn’t do the night shifts. Which meant your shifts changed. Not that you mind all that much; it gives you more chances to see Bucky.

When he said he comes in often, he wasn’t lying. Occasionally he stays while you clean and lock up and the two of you get lost in conversation under the city lights outside the shop. He usually orders and leaves with a witty comment and a wink, probably off to save the world from aliens or Nazis. He always orders the same thing, but he always asks for a little something extra, different every night.

“The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything else?”

“Your phone number would be great.”

~

“I’ll get right on your drink, Buck.”

“Awesome. Can you add your favorite flowers to that, too? Thanks, sugar.”

~

“I’m gonna change it up today, dollface.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll have the usual, but on the side I want to know what your favorite dessert is.”

He’s such a charmer. You aren’t sure if he’s just flirting or if he actually likes you. You think maybe he does that with every girl - waitresses, cashiers, secretaries - and he’s just being friendly. You’re sure after being stuck as a brainwashed assassin for nearly a century, flirting and cracking jokes with people makes him feel more normal. Still, you can’t help but wish that maybe the relationship you have now would become…more.

It’s not until he shows up a few weeks after your first meeting that you finally get an answer to whether or not he really likes you.

The bell rings, signifying a customer coming into the shop. You know it’s Bucky by the watch on your wrist; in the past few weeks of working the night shift, only one other person came in at nine o’clock.

“Good evening, beautiful.” A smile lifts the corners of your mouth at the familiar smooth voice that you could listen to all day. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

You straighten up and look over the counter. “It’s called inventory. How’s your day been, Buckaroo?”

“Better now that I get to see your pretty face.”

You roll your eyes, face heating up and a small smile gracing your features. “Give me a minute and I’ll have your drink done. Anything extra?”

“This is a bit riskier than normal, but I’ve been wanting to try it for a while. Can I get your schedule?”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion as he smirks confidently. “My schedule?”

“Yeah. I just need to know something.”

“What would that be?”

“You free on Saturday, doll?”

* * * * * * * *

Saturday comes much too slowly for your liking, especially considering he asked you out only two days prior. He didn't tell you what you'd be doing today, so you decide on a casual sundress that you can play off as fancy if you need it to be. The color and style compliments you and your beautiful features perfectly and you can only hope he agrees. Your roommate assured you you looked gorgeous before going out with some of their other friends this morning.

You're just putting the finishing touches on your outfit for the day when a knock on your door sounds throughout your apartment. You check your watch: 10:30 on the dot. Just like he said. You get up too quickly, causing you to trip on your own feet and stumble - but luckily you catch yourself before you fall. Feeling simultaneously embarrassed and relieved he didn't see your clumsy actions, you head to open the door.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers appeared once you open the door, bright cerulean eyes shining at you from behind them. He grins, said eyes scanning your figure. "You look pretty as a picture, doll."

You duck your head bashfully, taking the flowers from him. "Thank you." You not so subtly check him out as you put the flowers in a vase. Like always, Bucky is absolutely stunning: his brown locks frame his face, falling into those mesmerizing blues, which are even more so due to the dark blue t-shirt under the light bIue jean jacket hugging his muscled torso. Dark jeans pull taunt across those thighs, his large hands in his pockets casually. You find yourself frowning when you notice his left hand is covered by a black glove. You want to say something, but decide against it, too anxious to ruin the date with this god of a man.

He clears his throat, which brings your gaze back to his face. You feel yourself heat up at the smirk on his perfectly pink lips. "Uh, I, um, so...what are we doing today?"

"I thought we could have some fun today, since all you ever seem to do is work."

"I don't always work." You quickly defend. He raises a disbelieving eyebrow, making you drop your head again. "Okay. Maybe I don't get out much."

He chuckles. "Good thing. That way I get you to myself." There's that smug smirk again. "As for what we're doing, that's for me to know and you to find out. I'd wear walking shoes if I were you, though."

You give him a curious look, moving over to grab your keys, phone, and wallet, before slipping on your sneakers. "I don't get a hint or anything?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?" You giggle a bit as the two of you head out your door and down the hall. "I didn't know if you mind motorcycles, so I just borrowed Steve's car." He tells you in the elevator.

You talk about motorcycles and your opinion of them as you walk out your building and into the bright Spring sun. Your eyes widen at the nice Camaro parked in the street that he leads you to. "Wow."

"Yeah." Bucky nods in agreement. "Tony had it custom made for Steve for their anniversary a few months ago."

"And he's allowing you to use it?"

Bucky chuckles, running a hand through his hair as a pink tint dusts his cheeks. "'Allow' is a strong word."

You laugh as he opens the passenger door for you. You thank him, sliding onto the nice brown leather seat. "Does he even know you have it?"

He shrugs, shutting the door and leaning into the open window. "He'll find out soon, I'm sure."

Another laugh escapes you, a smile adorning his lips at the sound. He walks around the car, doing a hood slide to make you chortle again. While you two start driving, you try to convince him to give you a hint, but he's stubborn, denying you answers with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

You recognize the direction you're going after a while and bounce in your seat as you arrive. "Coney Island?"

"I haven't been here since before the War and I've been meaning to come see how it's changed." He told you with a grin. "Who better to come check it out with than the pretty dame who serves me coffee at nine o'clock without complaining?"

Rolling your eyes to cover how much comments affect you, you smile teasingly in return. "Have you always been such a charmer, Barnes?"

He parks the car before shooting you a wink. "Only to angels, darlin', and you're the first one I've met so far."

You inwardly curse, hating how easily flustered you get around him. He gets out of the car and you're about to follow when he opens your door for you and offers his hand to you like the gentleman he is. You take it, enjoying the feeling of your smaller one against his rough calluses, and he helps you out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

"You ready to have the time of your life, dolIface?"

"As long as you get me a treat." You joke, linking your arm with the one he offers.

"Like I wasn't going to?" He scoffs back. "Who do you think l am, sugar? Now c'mon. Fun's awaitin'."

You laugh, letting him drag you around, loving the child-like wonder in his pretty eyes. Whether or not you enjoy roller coasters, you have a blast: playing carnival games, eating food you both know is terrible for you, but tastes oh so good, and people watching the interesting crowds, all while teasing and playing around with each other. There's nothing better you can think of to do with your free day than goof off with Bucky, no stress or worries plaguing your mind like usual. He even wins you multiple adorable plushies! Being a super soldier wasn't just good for saving the world, evidently.

It was while you're eating lunch that you ask Bucky why he's wearing a glove. "I've already seen your arm. I don't mind."

He hesitates, opening his mouth before licking his lips nervously. "It's not...I know you don't. I just don't...I dunno. I don't wanna freak anyone out."

You frown and put down your food, leaning forwards on your elbows. "First off, I think you're an amazing person. Just throwing that out there. Second, I don't think anyone will mind. You're a hero. An Avenger. Basically a celebrity with a badass arm. And, finally, if anyone does say anything, I'll tell them off. Easy peasy."

He snorts at that, before looking at his gloved hand warily. You reach across the table to give both his hands a squeeze. He meets your eyes and you grin reassuringly back. "If you're not comfortable, that's okay. Just know that other people should never be the reason to hide yourself. Trust me."

"I do." He says genuinely. You give him a questioning look, playing with the tips of his gloved fingers. At his nod, you slowly start taking his glove off, giving him time to say no. He doesn't, letting you tug it all the way off. He blushes when you lift the smooth metal to your lips.

"So, what's next? Wanna win me one of those monkeys with the velcro hands?" He chuckles at your question, telling you he'd win you all of them if you asked. You giggle, tightening your hold on his hand and, after finishing the last bite of food, pulling him to the booth with the monkey prizes.

When it starts getting dark, Bucky convinces you to go on the Ferris Wheel with him, promising to hold your hand the whole time if you're scared of heights (even though you haven't let go of his hand or arm since lunch). It's one of the most stunning scenes you've ever seen. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, a few stars dotting the darkened sky, a rare sight living in New York City. The aforementioned city's lights were turning on, causing the skyline to glow brightly. It's hard to think of anything bad about NYC when she looks like that.

"Wow. " You breath, enchanted by the city you've grown to love as home. "There's something almost...magical about it, don't you think?" You turn to Bucky, still captivated by the view, expecting him to be the same. After all, New York has been his home for over a century and so much has changed. Instead, you find him intently watching you, a small, adoring smile etched on his features. You smile shyly, unable to keep his gaze while he's looking at you like that - like you're the most enthralling thing he's seen, bewitching his heart and soul, even with the magnificent picture before you.

"Yeah...there is." He agrees, grabbing your chin between his left thumb and pointer finger gently, making your eyes meet. His right arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm chest, heating you up from the chill the night is bringing.

Your heart drums hard against your ribs when he glances at your lips and you're sure he could hear it, even without his enhanced hearing. Your eyes lock onto his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them. You're suddenly so much closer, his right hand holding the back of your neck delicately while his left cups the side of your jaw. Your hands are gripping his jacket, noses brushing.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice comes out low and raspy.

"If you didn't, I'd probably smack you."

You feel his deep chuckle reverberate through his chest, which you just notice is pressed solidly against yours. Before you can process anything, his lips are slanted over yours. They're softer than you originally thought and they move expertly against yours. It surprises you, before you remember he's technically over a century old, so of course he has experience.

The kiss is over before you want it to be, but the need for oxygen gets too much and your lungs start to sting, so you pull back reluctantly, your hands now in his hair while he's holding your face tenderly.

"Speaking of magic."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as the Ferris Wheel starts turning again. "Who knew Bucky Barnes is such a sap?"

He smirks, leaning forwards to peck your Iips a couple times. "I prefer the term 'romantic'."

Once you get off, you hold onto his elbow, leaning against his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me, Buck. I really enjoyed today."

"Well that's good considering we're not done."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, what?"

Bucky scoffs in amusement. "You didn't think that was all, didya, doll? The day's not over; the night's still young!" His right arm slings around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head.

"Okay. What's next?" You ask curiously. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on those delicious lips. "Another surprise?"

"Hope you're hungry, sweetheart."

"Dinner?"

Giving you a charming grin, he leads you back to the car. "Guess you'll have to wait 'n see, darlin’."

* * * * * * * *

"Buck.” You groan, toeing the ground nervously. The blindfold covering your eyes was keeping you from seeing anything and, to your embarrassment, you've already tripped more times than you care to admit. “Where are we? l feel like we've been walking forever. Can I take this stupid thing off yet?”

Bucky chuckles softly in your ear, holding you steady as you walk on the uneven surface beneath your feet. “We’re almost there, doll. I promise."

Letting out a huff, you let him lead you further along. Finally, after what feels like hours, though you know you're being dramatic and haven't been walking that long, he stops. "Stay right here," he mumbles, his hands that were on your shoulders leaving, along with his warmth behind you, with a kiss to your cheek.

"Haha. You're so funny."

A couple snickers leave his lips and you can just imagine the smile no doubt gracing his features - the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes adorably. You feel wind nip at your bare skin and shiver slightly, wondering where the hell you are.

"Okay. C'mere." His hands are on you again, the contrast of the two adding to the goosebumps the breeze was giving you. "Right here." You can practically feel his excitement and nerves as he positions you. "Alright. Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be, I suppose."

His nimble fingers are suddenly at the edge of cloth covering your eyes, which he makes quick work of, tugging it off gently. "You can open your eyes, sugar." He chuckles, seeing your eyes tightly clenched shut. You do as he says and blink them open. The sight that meets you takes your breath away.

He brought you to a beach, which you had kind of already guessed due to the sad slipping through your shoes. In front of you, a blanket is spread out, being held at the corners by lanterns, which are connected by a string of fairy lights outlining the blanket. Pillows are scattered on the blanket, a picnic basket to the side while a single red rose is in a small vase in the center with rose petals surrounding the setup. He really is a romantic.

"Bucky. It's beautiful. When did you set this up?"

He rubs the back of his neck, turning red. You smile, enjoying the fact that you can make him just as flustered as he makes you. “Actually, the team helped me out a bit. It was originally just Natasha and Steve. But, uh, then Tony and Wanda found out and then...Sam."

You giggle, knowing his and Sam's brotherly relationship from previous conversation. "I bet he teased the shit out of you when he found out."

"Please," Bucky scoffs. "I'll be the butt of his jokes for at least a month. At least, this part of me will."

"Well, I love this side of you if that's worth anything."

He grins dashingly at you. "Then let the birdbrain tease, because that’s worth everything. Here." Taking your hand, he leads you over to the blanket and sits you down. "All those questions at the coffee shop and I never asked your favorite drink so I brought red, white, beer, Coke, Pepsi, root beer, and," he pulls out the last bottle he brought with a boyish smile. "Apple juice. There's water in 'ere too. And, o' course, the meal and the dessert, which I did ask about because I'm not a complete idiot."

Laughing, you can't help but pull him in for a kiss. "You're so cute."

He clears his throat, his face heating up while he rubs the back of his neck, tying his hair back in a knot. He hands out compliments like candy on Halloween but he can't take them to save his life. How adorable can one man be?

You two eat and talk about everything from hilarious childhood stories to what keeps you up at night. You love listening to his fascinating tales of playing through the 20s, scraping through the 30s, and fighting through the 40s. You especially love the way his face lights up when talking about his family, the Howling Commandos, and America's Golden Boy, both twink and tank stories.

After a couple hours, you find yourself wrapped in his warm jacket - which smelled amazing - leaning against him as he tells you about his new family. You sip on your preferred drink, your eyes fluttering shut, content to simply listen to his soothing voice talking about Clint and Scott's latest prank on Pietro.

"You tired, doll?" You hear him whisper tenderly, his arms around your waist while his thumbs run small circles on your sides.

You hum and look back at him over your shoulder. "Just feeling the moment." He smiles adoringly at you, kissing your temple.

"It's getting late anyways. We should get you home. Don't want your roommate worrying."

You scoff, but agree. You help him clean up and carry things to the car, despite his protests. You nearly fall asleep on the ride back, his big, warm hand resting comfortably on your thigh the whole way. He squeezes gently when you pull up to your building, murmuring lightly to wake you up.

Ever the gentleman, he walks you inside and helps you bring the armful of prizes he got you to your door. Once there, you unlock the door and lean against the frame, facing him.

"Thank you, James. As far as first dates go, this is by far the best one I've had."

He shoots you a smug grin. "Glad to hear that, beautiful. Does that mean if I asked for a second date you'd say yes?"

You give him a smirk back. "I'd say your chances are very good."

"And if asked for a goodnight kiss from the most gorgeous girl I've ever been blessed to be in the presence of?"

You giggle, ducking your head shyly. His hands grip your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. He nudges your nose with his, whispering against your lips, "is that a yes?" AII you can think to do is nod. He smirks at your reaction, before he's pulling your lips against his. It's more passionate, less hesitant and experimental, than the few previous kisses you shared. He's angling your face to deepen the kiss, his hands tangle in your hair and his tongue prods your lips open, swallowing the little whimper you let out.

When you pull back, you're breathless, panting against his open month. "You workin' tomorrow, darlin'?" He rasps out.

"No." You try to collect yourself enough to answer, although it's hard with all your nerves on fire, his scent fogging up your brain. You manage to move your heavy tongue enough to say, "I have the weekend off."

A broad grin lights up his pretty face. "Great. I'll be over at nine. Have a nice night, sweetheart."

You nod, an airy "goodnight" leaving your lips. You watch him walk off, a pep in his step and his lips turned up. You lean back against your door, hugging all your new plushies to your chest, still wrapped up in his jacket, and let out a sigh.

You'll have to go visit Cody and thank him. After all, that dreadful night shift gave you the best day of your Iife.

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #first written work #first published work #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #please excuse any mistakes #thanks for reading! #first dates w/ avengers #💙🦾

[voidstilesplease]

in another life

part two

Stiles assures Theo answers for all of their questions -god knows they have so many- tomorrow. Theo's reluctant at first, doesn't intend to let go of Stiles's words hanging in between them: "You think she's alive?" Eventually, Theo nods, finding something in Stiles's eyes and placing his trust in him. An odd feeling of protectiveness settles in Stiles's stomach at the vulnerability that Theo freely displays - in the past, he used to act guarded like everyone was out to get him. Granted, Theo had conned most of them before with charm and fake tears, and it's not above him to try it again if Theo could gain something worthy from it. But Stiles doesn't feel the usual tingle in his bones when he meets some shady criminal mastermind. His instincts have gotten him this far, so he gives it credit.

Stiles sighs. Innocent until proven guilty. He hopes Deaton has answers that expose the truth.

In the meantime, they have saddled him with more responsibility: bringing Theo home with him. Theo refuses to be stuck with either Liam or Mason any longer, it is unwise to put Theo alone with Melissa, and stupid to leave him unattended. So Stiles is the only viable choice. Plus, Theo thinks they're together. It only makes sense. Maybe.

It probably won't to his dad initially, but hey, after a while of normalcy, even he will acknowledge the need for something to go down - even dressed as Theo Raeken.

•••

They're in Stiles's Jeep, driving home to the Stilinski's, and it is a little disconcerting how Theo seems to be accustomed to his car. Theo had seen and been in the Jeep before, but this is different. He's too comfortable in the cramped space, even knows how to operate Stiles's defective radio. And the way he leans against the seat on the passenger's side and knows where to keep the screwdriver Stiles uses to manipulate the ignition is boggling his head worse than the snow outside.

Stiles draws in a breath, glancing sideways to his quiet company. "So, um, Deaton," he says, "we're going to Dr. Deaton tomorrow."

Theo turns to him, frowning. "What kind of doctor? Are you taking me to a shrink? Babe, I'm not crazy. What happened is freaky, but you have to believe me."

Okay, the babe thing, they're going to have to iron that wrinkle as soon as possible. Not even Lydia called him babe when they dated, and certainly not Malia. It's a cosmic joke that the once bane of his existence gets to call him that first. "No, he's not a shrink," Stiles promises him. "He's a veterinarian. But he knows about these things."

Theo arches a brow, "He knows about teleportation?"

"Telepor-" Stiles creases his forehead, jerking his head to Theo. The latter is expectant when he looks back. Stiles blinks, disbelieving and a little horrified. There's also a small bubble of hysteria beginning to form in his stomach. Somehow, this takes the cake in the weirdness of the situation. Because, of course, Theo also doesn't remember he's a chimera, does he? Blowing a heavy breath, he turns back to the road. He rubs the side of his temple, where it's starting to hurt, and purses his lips. "Yeah, sure. Teleportation."

Silence hangs in between them for a moment, Stiles sighing when he takes the last turn to his street. He can feel the burn of Theo's stare at the side of his face.

"You really don't remember we're together?" Theo sounds genuinely small when he speaks. "Then why are you here, if not to take me home? The two -Liam and Mason- are accusing me of having amnesia. But it's you who can't remember."

Stiles opens his mouth, but he doesn't know what to say. He knows that if he tells Theo that he remembers an illusory life, it's only going to invite more questions Stiles has no answers yet. In honesty, he's still reeling until now, and he's too tired to consider diving into research mode immediately, much less form a cohesive plan other than to bring Theo to Deaton first. And the best thing for them both to do before then is rest. They can't do that if Stiles stays up all night convincing Theo that they're not even friends, that he was a lying, conniving chimera asshole that tried to break his pack once, before turning a new leaf and helping them, and then disappearing on them like a bubble one day. Oh, and yeah, that it's so twisted for him to think his sister was alive when he had allowed her to die when he was nine.

No. Rest, Deaton, and then fuck up some shit - Stiles is doing this in that order.

"Hm," is what he ends up saying. Stiles pulls in the driveway, noting the blue truck already parked there. He's relieved to find a change of topic. He clears his throat, pointing at the vehicle. "That's your truck. Corey, Mason's boyfriend, drove it here."

Theo doesn't look away from him for the entire minute it takes Stiles to turn the engine off and gather his belongings. When he looks at Theo, that's only when the other man lowers his head and breathes. Theo nods and gets out of the car, moving towards the truck. Stiles silently prays for more strength if this is how awkward it is going to be for the whole evening until the morning.

Theo is studying his blue truck, eyeing it with trepidation. Stiles slings his messenger bag and stands beside him. Theo turns to him, shaking his head. "This isn't my car."

Stiles moves to the bed of Theo's pickup. "It is," he tells Theo. 

Stiles is, unfortunately, familiar enough with this car, and not with pleasant memories. Stiles lifts the haphazardly strewn cloth covering most of the space of the truck bed and makes a noise of disgust with what he finds underneath. It was definitely tidier before.

Theo also peeks under the cloth and pulls his face in a similar reaction. An alarming amount of empty plastic noodle cups and take-out boxes litter the covered area. "It can't be mine because I'm not crazy for instant ramen."

Stiles drops the cloth and walks to the driver's seat. He cups his hands on either side of his eyes and looks inside through the window. He finds a folded blanket at the backseat and a pink sweater on top of the pile of clothes. The chimera wore the hell out of those, Stiles remembers grudgingly. Transferring his scrutiny on the passenger side, he sees empty water bottles and coke cans, and old receipts. What the hell has Theo been up to that he can't even throw his trash out or attempt to be less sloppy?

One thing is sure, though. The car is where Theo lives; the pizza in the backseat looks stale but not molded. He faces Theo and gives him a grim nod, "Let's discuss the condition of your car and your unhealthy lifestyle tomorrow, yeah?"

Theo huffs, wanting to protest and eyeing his car in disgust, but shrugs in agreement.

•••

His father is working the night shift, so explaining Theo is a problem for future Stiles, which makes him sag in relief under the hot spray of his shower. When he's finished, he changes into clean sweatpants and an old Christmas ugly sweater and goes back to his room.

Theo is already sitting on his temporary bed on the floor. Stiles refuses to make him sleep on the couch where the kitchen and knives are near. At least, inside his room, he can fight him should Theo attempt anything at all. Stiles has gotten better at hand-to-hand combat since the FBI, and also a very light sleeper and sometimes prone to insomnia, especially on stressful occasions like this. Any minor shuffling from Theo will alert him. Not that he thinks Theo will do anything. His impulses tell him that Theo's memory dilemma is not made-up, and he's truthful this time, but it's always better to be safe than sorry.

Theo looks up when he enters, offering a small smile. Stiles's eyes catch sight of the outline of a necklace hidden underneath the collar of Theo's borrowed shirt. Stiles's clothes look a bit tight on him but otherwise, more comfortable than the dirty jeans he was wearing earlier. 

"It's so weird to see your old bed," Theo says, looking at the said bed. "Noah brought you a bigger one so that we can share when we visit. I wonder what happened to it?"

Stiles drops onto his bed with a small bounce. He didn't expect that. "Oh, um,"

Theo meets his eyes, "And Roscoe," a shadow crosses his face. "You took down all of the polaroid pictures we put of us. You even replaced the screwdriver that I gave you with an old one."

He sounds so betrayed that Stiles is stunned by what he's hearing. What startles him most, though, is: "You know my Jeep's name?"

At this question, Theo looks downright affronted. But Stiles has every reason to be surprised. His mom, his dad, and Scott are the only people apart from him who knows his Jeep's name -not another soul. Not even Lydia.

"Of course, I know your Jeep's name," Theo responds with a deepening scowl. "We've been together for four years, Stiles."

Stiles raises a hand to halt Theo as his cogs turn in his head. A swell of panic takes root in him. This memory thing is more serious than he initially thought. Theo's not only hallucinating a different life but he also somehow knows things he shouldn't. The screwdriver compartment, his broken radio, his Jeep's name -what else does he know that he isn't supposed to?

"Okay," Stiles finally says, lowering his hand and barrier from Theo, who's still glowering. It seems he has lost his patience with Stiles, as well. If this continues, Stiles might snap, too. So he says as appeasing as he could. "Let's say that whatever happened to you affected our memories of each other. But we'll go to Dr. Deaton for answers tomorrow, and then we can go back to our normal lives. Yes? Do you trust me?"

As soon as he says it, Stiles wants to take it back. It seems like a strange concept to ask Theo, of all people, to trust Stiles after everything. As crazy as Stiles actually trusting Theo. But here they are.

Theo doesn't reply for a long time, but he looks pensive and considering as he glares. In the end, he huffs in surrender, shoulders drooping in defeat. For the first time, the bags under his eyes become more prominent in his features. He looks so weary, hurt, and confused. Stiles is well acquainted with that look. It's the look of someone who hasn't been sleeping well. With the state of Theo's truck, Stiles has no problem picturing the man twist-and-turning to find a good position and not finding any.

Theo dips his head, replying with a rough voice, "Yeah. I trust you."

Before Stiles can say any more, Theo gives him his back and reclines on his mattress. He pulls the covers on himself, like a shield, and mumbles good night to Stiles.

Sighing, Stiles turns the desk lamp off and lays on his bed, staring at the ceiling for who knows how long. After a while, he exhales and rubs the bridge of his nose. His body is exhausted, and so is his mind, but they're not shutting off like they're supposed to. He almost wishes he is back in his dorm room in Virginia, staying up to piece the puzzles of a case. He has dealt with mundane human crises for so long that coaxing the supernatural mojo back appears to be an impossibly draining affair.

When he glances back at Theo on the floor, he pauses as he notices it. There's a blank inked mark on Theo's nape: a tattoo that Stiles knows for sure he didn't have the last time they saw each other. He turns to his side to look closely at it.

The tattoo is of a circle interlaced with three interconnected ovals. It reminds him closely of Derek's triskelion tattoo. But unlike Derek's, Theo's mark gives him an ominous feeling.

Because Stiles is sure, it isn't an optical illusion when it glowed in the darkness of his room for a second.

~•~

#steo #steo fic #steo ficlet #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #stiles x theo #parallel universe au #in another life #part 2 #fics tag #well the christmas prompts may have been lost #lmao #but well I guess I'll just continue with this #omg this is going to be a disaster fic #i can just feel it lmao

[urfavmurtad]

hey i really like reading your posts even though i don't follow you or interact with your posts at all because i don't want any of my tumblr friends to know i'm not religious lol. my question is this, as someone who has also left islam and its bull shit behind: how did you arrive at atheism instead of another religion or general spirituality? what was the process of that? i still don't know what i believe, even though i know that i don't believe in islam.

Thank you anon, and huh! I don’t think anyone’s asked me that before. I dunno, it just kind of… happened, tbh. Like I feel no need to believe in any sort of higher power or deity, there’s nothing about theism in general that appeals to me. I’ve read a lot about other religions since I left Islam and I can certainly appreciate many things about them. But none of the actual theology grabs me. Not to sound like an edgelord, but I can’t convince myself that miracles from 3000 years ago were real events. They make nice stories and I’ll always enjoy reading the history behind them (and The Prince of Egypt had some fantastic animation), but there is a 0% chance of me believing these things actually happened. If a god wants me to believe in him, his ass can send someone who can make miracles now. There are zero convincing reasons that any miracle-based religion offers for why their god of choice can’t send someone to perform miracles in the age of, you know, cameras.

In addition to that, while Islam has its own unique awfulness related to a very wide range of topics, it shares some problems with a lot of other religions. I hate the whole concept of disbelievers being hellbound, I think it’s genuinely cruel and awful, and I would never follow any religion that advocated for similar ideas. There is no way to reconcile “merciful god who cares about humanity” and “god who sends kind people to hell if they refuse to worship him”. And combining that with the concept of an all-knowing god who knows who will go to heaven or hell before they’re even born is extra shitty. Muslims and members of similar faiths can justify it to themselves all they want, but it will always be fucked up to me. Anything based on something like “follow my rules or suffer eternally” is a manipulative ideology imo.

As for a general belief in a higher power, my personal feeling is that any belief in a god who cares about humans at all does not make sense.

For example, say I make dua for passing a math test and then I get a good grade on it. A lady makes dua for her sick child and the child dies. I could attribute my success in passing the test to divine intervention (instead of the facts that I studied hard and the test wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be). But if that’s the case… why’d Allah answer my prayer while refusing to answer the mother’s? Why’d he care more about me getting an A- in calculus than a child living to see another day? There is no religion, as far as I’m concerned, that has a good answer for this. (Except for our wise polytheistic forefathers, who said “fate is cruel and inescapable death comes for all when we least expect it, LOL!”)

In Islam, we’re always told some variant of “stop asking questions” as the standard response to this issue. There’s always an implication that Allah knows better than you do, so there’s no way your puny human mind can comprehend why these things happen. That’s not satisfactory. If the mother of the deceased child is more pious than I am and a better person than I am and in a more serious situation than I am, but he still refuses to answer her pleas because they’re not part of The Plan, what’s even the value of prayer? It’s just a crapshoot as to whether your dua ends up in Allah’s spam folder or not because “Allah’s mind is unknowable” or “what is meant to happen will happen”.

To me, that just rules out the existence of a god who answers prayers (at least on any sort of logical basis). So I see no value in prayer tbh, or any value in doing anything to worship any higher power that might or might not exist, cuz the bitch clearly don’t care bout us. I’m just gonna live my life and not worry about it. Hopefully if she/he/it does exist, they are at least more chill than Allah’s needy, narcissistic ass.

The tragic “counterarguments” that religious people always make to points like this are all the same. “What if you’re wrong? Are you willing to bet your soul on it?” Yes, I am willing to “bet my soul” that Mr. Flying Donkey Man was a bullshitter, thanks. “But isn’t life meaningless if there’s no afterlife?” I would love to believe in a heaven where everyone lives on forever, even though I don’t believe in it. But no, the lack of an afterlife doesn’t make me feel like the life I’m living right now has any less meaning. “But how could all of this have come from nothing?!?!?!” I don’t know how the universe was created. We could all be living in a giant sim like that one shitty Star Ocean game. But I do know that the creation stories religious people believe in are myths, so they’ve got nothing to offer me.

I hope this doesn’t come across as like… atheist dawah, because I genuinely don’t mind or care if people have some vague spirituality or belief in a higher power. I’ve talked to people here who have left Islam for Judaism, Christianity, and even one who is now a follower of Bahai. In addition to several tumblr witches who do tarot readings and stuff. If any of that calms people and gives them a sense of peace, that’s great and y’all are valid, but it’s just not something I personally get anything out of. So… that’s where my mind is at anon. Take your time figuring your own mind out, there’s no need to rush something like this.

#ask #anon #atheism #ex muslim