#atheist kids of Christian parents let’s make some noise

[soul-sucker]

my dad just handed this shirt to me and said it’s my early birthday present 😐

#atheist kids of Christian parents let’s make some noise #this has been a post*

[jamaisvuandyou]

Please Dry My Eyes: Part 6

Description: Jin, Hoseok, and Yoongi have had a running streak of bad luck, but Jin isn’t sure what to make of this one: His old friend’s trickery that leads to him being the new father of a little toddler, Jeon Jungkook.

Posted: 02/6/2021

WARNING: Mentions of death

Angst/Fluff: 2,846 words

A/N: Welp.

Previous Part.  Next Part.

The one thing they dared not do at this exact moment was take Jimin away from Jungkook. He was distracted. He was happy. He wasn’t sobbing pitifully into Jin’s shoulder.

Jin had finally been able to take a shower, and put on a dry shirt. Not because he wasn’t expecting more tears, but because it made him feel better to get a dry shirt.

Hoseok was distracting both of them with some sort of silly song time, and the babies were laughing more than singing, but that was good. That was progress.

Yoongi was working on paperwork with Namjoon, so once Jin was finished with his shower, he went to make lunch for all of them. Something that would be easy to feed the boys while some trivial kids show played on the TV because today, of all days, was a cheat day.

“Yoongi,” He whispered, leaning on the table so that the two men seated there could hear him better. “We need kids DVDs. ASAP.”

Yoongi glanced down at the paperwork, then at Namjoon, before looking confusedly up at Jin. “Now? Why?”

“Because, we don’t have cable and we don’t have any other TV watching things, I barely remembered to get the internet installed here, and I am not trying to wrangle two emotionally unstable children for lunch when the rest of us are feeling emotionally unstable without some sort of distraction for said children,” Jin said, putting money on the table. “Take Namjoon if you need to. I’m assuming you’re staying for lunch.”

Namjoon sort of bobbed his head, a little shy. “Yeah, sorry, there’s a lot of paperwork and I thought it might be better for me to stick around and help a bit with Jimin the way he is.”

“That’s fine. Great even. Hope you like kids food. Shoo, off to the nearest store or resale shop or something.” Jin pulled both of them up by the arm. “You’ve been doing paperwork for three hours. Think of it as a coffee break, but without the coffee.”

Both of them headed for the front door, putting on their shoes to go on the trivial errand.

Jin got everything ready for when he was actually going to make lunch, then checked on Hobi and the boys again, trying to buy some time for Yoongi and Namjoon to get the required materials, and cleaned up the house a little bit since it was just short of a disaster thanks to the mess of a morning.

Lunch was almost ready when Namjoon and Yoongi returned, a few bags in tow.

Jin eyed them as he portioned out more sliced grapes. “Um….”

Yoongi held up his hands. “We went to the resale shop. It was the closest store, and we did get movies, though the quality of them is…questionable, but they had some of their toys on sale and I know that Jungkook likes the puzzles and Jimin looked like he liked books so….”

Jin nodded. “That’s fine. It’s a good idea for us to check out what they have for kids clothing-wise too. What DVDs did you get?”

“Well, we found some VHS tapes, and I remembered that ours still worked so I grabbed Cinderella, Rugrats—whatever that is, and The Lion King.”

“Let’s save Lion King for when they’re much, much older,” Jin said, thinking it would be a bad idea to show toddlers who recently lost their parents a movie where the father dies. Heck, who was he kidding, he didn’t think he could watch it.

“Right…um, well, DVD’s were even more scarce, but we found a couple DVDs of Veggietales—which I’ve never heard of, but they look pretty harmless and it is marked as having won a parent’s choice award so it’s got to be decent—Lyle the Kindly Viking, and The End of Silliness. Then there was Curious George and a Barbie movie. And the lady said we were lucky to find most of these.” Yoongi showed him the DVDs.

Jin grabbed one of the ones he hadn’t heard of, scanning over the back and then shrugging. “Let’s try one of these new ones, I guess. If it’s too bad we’ll switch to Curious George. Meantime, I’m going to look it up.”

“Already doing that,” Namjoon said. “Oh. I mean, they are Christian influenced…but definitely kids and…” He trailed off as he saw the look on Jin’s face. “Vegetables singing and acting out stories, sounds like a great distraction for the kids.”

Jin nodded. “I will take anything at this point. I’m not about to get picky on a day like today. There’s a lot of christian crap that’s secular enough to pass as not christian and at least we don’t have to worry about someone dying. And this one says it’s mostly songs from the show. Songs are good. Do you hear them singing?”

“Jin didn’t get as much sleep as you’d have thought,” Yoongi muttered to Namjoon, gently tugging him away.

Namjoon nodded, retreating with Yoongi with the DVDs to get it set it up.

Jin rubbed his forehead and finished plating it up. He didn’t have to patience to contemplate religions or whatever. He needed distractions for toddlers and they wouldn’t even really remember this. It would not be a formative memory. As long as it distracted his kids and didn’t trigger them, it could be any religion, any language, any content. He wouldn’t care until he’d slept a full night, and he had to care about their formative memories. He would figure it out then.

Just one of many meals that would blend into nothing in the minds of the infants.

And he wouldn’t have to contemplate what sort of language would be acceptable in his house for another day.

He would have to look into shows for the kids though, and get either a streaming service or a lot of DVDs.

But the four men got the two infants settled in front of the TV with their lunch.

Yoongi and Namjoon went back to their paperwork about halfway through.

But Hoseok, bless him, kept the kids invested in the show while also getting food in them. He had them dancing to a few of the songs.

And Jungkook kept watching even though he did give up on dancing to sit on Jin’s lap.

It wasn’t until it ended that Jimin seemed to calm down and remember.

He stood in the middle of the living room, hands at his sides, staring at the credits as they rolled. “Eomma,” he whispered.

Jin gently deposited Jungkook onto Hoseok’s arms, then crouched beside Jimin.

Jimin looked at him, then sighed and wrapped his arms around Jin’s neck, burying his face.

Jin held him carefully, lifting him and just holding him against his shoulder. There was a certain amount of fear inside of him: fear of Jimin becoming too attached to them, fear of letting Jimin go….

Jimin sniffled lightly.

“Well, baby,” Jin whispered. “It’s going to be long ride, but I’ve got strong shoulders. I can hold you as long as you need me too.”

As Jin sat down, Hoseok snuggled closer and rest his head on Jin’s shoulder so that Jungkook could rest on his shoulder but seemed to be satisfactorily close to Jin.

“Nice wide shoulders,” Hoseok murmured.

Jimin studied them a little bit, then reached out a hand.

Jungkook innocently took it, then closed his eyes.

Jimin smiling a bit through his quiet little tears and soft sniffles, and closing his eyes as well.

Jin watched both of the little ones until they seemed to be asleep. “Let’s put them to bed for their nap.”

Hoseok sighed. “Two more minutes.”

“No, two more minutes and we’ll both be asleep. Come on. Give me Jungkook. They’re sharing a bed. Yoongi, you took a picture, right?”

“I’m not stupid.”

Jin and Hoseok maneuvered Jungkook onto Jin’s other shoulder, then Hoseok helped Jin get up.

The toddlers barely stirred when Jin lay them down.

“For someone who supposedly hasn’t worked with kids that much, you’re doing really well,” Namjoon said quietly. “And I’m sorry about questioning you earlier on the dvds. You have every right to decide what is and isn’t okay in your house. And you were right. It was harmless.”

Jin waved them all out, closing the door for now. “Religions…are complicated, but I know a lot of religions have higher censorship, which means they’ll be more…friendly for kids who have been traumatized like mine have. Supposedly, anyway. I’m still going to screen a bunch of stuff before I let them watch it, but tonight it was desperate measures. They’ll be able to choose what they want to believe.”

Yoongi nodded. “I went to catholic school. It wasn’t all bad.”

Namjoon shrugged a bit. “Sorry. I’m an atheist, so…I didn’t think about your perspective on it.”

“Now you know my perspective on it. I’m not really religious or anything, I don’t have a set of beliefs, but if they decide they want to pursue any sort of religion, I’m not going to stop them…unless I think it’s a cult, then I’m probably going to lock them in the basement and try to talk sense to them.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say lock them in the basement and just roll with the talk sense to them, but yeah. I get it. Like I said, you were right. I’m sorry. But…did you really just call both of them your kids?” Namjoon was smiling.

Jin stared at the social worker, trying to remember what he had said.

Yoongi and Hoseok were smiling as well.

“I’m a duck,” Jin muttered. “A damn duck. I’ve imprinted. What the hell.”

Yoongi sputtered behind him.

Hoseok was make a lot of choked laughing noises as he followed Jin into the bedroom.

Jin changed into sweats, and stared at himself for far too long in the mirror, zoned out while trying to figure out when he’d subconsciously decided that Jimin was his now and that was such a dangerous thing to think.

Yoongi was sitting on the edge of the bed when he came out of the bathroom, but Hoseok was under the covers. “Namjoon left.”

“Right. Okay.”

“He said he’d see about trying to keep Jimin with us.”

“Right,” Jin repeated intelligently. He climbed under the covers, just waiting for Hoseok to get comfortable cuddling with him.

“Jungkook’s doing really well with him, and Jimin seems to really love Jungkook,” Hoseok whispered, holding his hand out for Yoongi to cuddle with them. “Actually, I’ve never seen Jungkook so…so….”

“Pacified? Independent? Detached from Jin?” Yoongi offered as he moved to spoon Hoseok, sandwiching the youngest in the middle. “Yeah, I think having another kid might be good for Jungkook, but we’ll still have to watch carefully over the next few days.”

Jin nodded, closing his eyes.

“But hey, we discovered that music is a good distraction for them. That’s good, you know?”

“True. And we found out that a desperate Jin doesn’t give a—”

“Language,” Jin grumbled, reaching out blindly and gently hitting at whatever his hand reached.

Soft chuckles were the response, then they all fell quiet, falling into a well-earned nap.

–

Previous.  Next.

Masterlist.

#pleasedrymyeyes series #bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #baby bangtan #adoption au #jin #jimin #jungkook #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #suga #parent au

[soulvomit]

I really struggle with all discourse about children’s works, but ESPECIALLY The Giving Tree. It’s like having an opinion about a culture you weren’t raised in and ALL you can ever have is an outsider view.

One of the reasons I’m struggling with Giving Tree Discourse has to do with the way I was raised with regard to children’s works. In my own house - the assumption would have been that any books that are ambiguous, that bring up lots of different feelings for lots of different people, would be discussed, and the feelings that they brought up, would be discussed. And this was just assumed to be... all books? I was taught early that EVERYTHING is Your Mileage May Vary? My parents were actually aggressive deprogrammers when it came to messages that I took away from media. Mainstream media often made me feel shitty, ESPECIALLY because of legacy 50s programming on network tv, and because of 80s programming about Perfect Happy Families. My parents were *always* pointing out that stuff I read about or watched, wasn’t real life... from day one. Also, partially due to atheist upbringing, there are very few instances in which I experienced any one book being forced on me as any kind of required foundational pedagogy. There is NO book that I was required to read. (Part of this is that I loved to read so much that I just read a lot of stuff on my own. I did not really get into fiction until my vocabulary and reading abilities caught up to classic fiction and adult works, and my adult figures’ whole focus of teaching me how to read was about getting me up to speed to at least read Steinbeck. Children’s literature *only existed for purposes of teaching reading and grammar* and wasn’t an end to itself, and was supposed to be a temporary, transitory phase until my reading skills got better.)  For whatever reason - The Giving Tree is a book that neither upset me, nor particularly appealed to me. It’s not my favorite Silverstein work by a long shot. The one that always spoke to me? Powerfully? The Missing Piece. (I don’t have much experience with Silverstein being rammed down my throat or spoonfed to me, in any case. NO BOOK WAS.)

Like a lot of children’s books, I was neutral on The Giving Tree. There are a whole lot of semi-contemporary kids’ works (as in, written in the 1960s-70s) that just totally missed me. 

And I didn’t really come to appreciate Shel Silverstein’s broader oeuvre until adulthood.  The only thing I was ever given anything resembling “classical pedagogy” on, was math, because it’s the one thing I wouldn’t study on my own. I was basically encouraged to just study whatever I wanted and if I had a particular interest, my parents got me books on it (that were often above my grade level) and encouraged me to read them and ask questions, and they taught me early on to look up words I didn’t know. Almost all of the books that I liked reading were for older kids (and later, adults). I was actually exposed to classic fantasy work and Grimm’s Fairy Tales before any of the Bowdlerized versions. Because of my limited contact with other children, I just didn’t even know that other kids weren’t being raised in the same world that I was raised in, or reading any of the same material. I only knew that I was different from other kids in ways that made their parents uncomfortable. 

My parents were very, very specifically opposed to certain things that are in standard public school pedagogy, and felt that those things destroy children’s minds. Somehow my household managed to not rear me on 20th century children’s material almost at all and barely even any postwar or later 20th century adult fiction (before my dad got me into sci fi). Somehow fairy tales seemed to just... miss me. They weren’t interesting especially because I KNEW they were Bowdlerized, and my parents didn’t push me to read stuff I wasn’t interested in. (But I liked Disney movies for the drama, the songs, and the fancy dresses.)  My parents' thing was to let me read whatever I wanted - they simply wouldn’t keep books in the house that they didn’t want me to read - and to make themselves available to any questions I had.

My schooling experience is weird, too. When I was in school (before middle school, because I WANTED to go to middle school), it wasn’t with a lot of consistency, so - whatever social noise was going on between teachers and students, *shrug.* Lots of it missed me. My parents provided a lot of buffer between what was going on at school, and my home life. Anything that got discussed in school, was being countered by my parents’ own programming. So... The thing with books like The Giving Tree is that I’m not used to them being *taught out of.* This is not how my parents used fiction books, and I wasn’t in very many environments consistently enough for the schools to do that, either. I’m not used to any particular book being forced on me as a training manual. That was my parents’ job and their job only and that was a rule in my house. They didn’t rely on media to teach me sharing, that was *their job* and it wasn’t via abstract “let’s have a lesson about sharing.” (Very few things were “lessons” or taught “school style” that weren’t specific academic topics. My parents were into reinforcement and modeling.) Sharing is something that was modeled at the dinner table, for example. Also my mom is a hardcore rationer, and my family was poor for the first half of my childhood, so my understanding of sharing was rooted in pragmatic sharing of resources, as opposed to kids sharing their toys. I was even raised *not to eat in public* because it was rude to eat in front of people if you weren’t sharing your food.  And I really feel that a lot of The Discourse around kids’ media comes from the broader culture and its institutions, relying upon mass media to model for kids what parents and schools are no longer able to model. This is the framework everyone is approaching this book from - not as a book on its own merits, but pro-con in terms of its use as an instrument of pedagogy and social modeling that is totally alien to how I was raised to approach any book. They wanted me to question everything I read. I was actually much more reinforced to read science and history material.  Another thing is that as an advanced reader, I didn’t enjoy reading children’s work, and came to despise children’s media BECAUSE of the overbearing modeling in it. It was transparent to me and put me right off, and... lots is aimed at middle class WASP kids’ life experiences, in ways that most people don’t realize. (Sometimes I feel like a lot of standard pedagogy, and standard American kids’ writing, is about SLOWING KIDS DOWN and rationing the amount of information they have access to.) And I’ll say that class is actually a big issue. I lived in a poor urban area and was an advanced reader, so the material dangers presented in a 19th century or early 20th century work were actually more relatable to my real world. I FUCKING HATED POSTWAR PERFECT HAPPY FAMILIES CRAP. My family was weird as fuck, and lots of my family was poor as fuck, and all of us were dysfunctional as fuck. This meant I found mainstream shit TOTALLY ALIENATING AND OTHERING and it only reinforced to me how abnormal my family was. (In fact, I didn’t come to discover how normal we really were for a long time... that most families are “dysfunctional” - and that what’s being measured as “normal” is 100% specific to the propagandized optic of middle class white Christian families.) Mainstream children’s work only made me feel bad about my family and about myself, and I started shunning practically anything that other kids were into, or even discussing. Mainstream kids’ works made me feel suicidal, whereas adult works made my imagination soar. (The irony is that Shel Silverstein is one of the few writers that I actually felt *got* me on some level. I think there is a way in which I picked up on the author’s own “otherness” and connected it to my own.)

This is a case where my background is so different from most people’s that even approaching this discourse, is like trying to discuss specific American problems from the inside, when you were raised outside and have no idea what half of the discussions even are. And when I discuss the kids’ books that people are talking about, it’s not even possible for me to come at it from the viewpoint other people do, because that’s not the way ANY book was ever presented to me... and furthermore, my parents felt that it’s parents’ job to teach their children and model social behavior to them, not schools’. 

I am just so outside of this discourse that I don’t even know how to approach it.  I also don’t know how I feel about the fact that many people are being traumatized by his work because they were forced to read it as Christian-reared children who took different messages away from it than I took, as a secular Jew reading a secular Jew’s work. That makes me have really strong feelings about removing his work, tbh. I don’t know how to feel about this at all. Is there a way that we have to write for children who are Christian-reared, because they will parse some things traumatically? Where does this leave Jewish writers, or outsider writers? Do only specific people get to write for children?  This. is. so. complicated.

[moriangelhere]

Things you should know about me in a relationship

So I had a dream during my nap yesterday about my ex trying to get in the bathroom where I was despite me telling him no and forcing the door closed. Then I had another dream where I beat the living shit out of my other ex... So I just had an idea that I should just lay down some stuff for you guys. These are just things I’ve experienced while dating those two fucking assholes.

1. I’m in one or two moods: I need to do everything in a certain amount of time or I’ll die or Idgaf let me sleep. Don’t tell me to drop everything because at this time in my life, there are more important things than you so either be patient or gtfo. As for me wanting to sleep, yeah I’ll be a bit grumpy but I’ll get out of bed. I’ll get out of bed quicker if food is provided.

2. Don’t call me while I’m at work unless it’s an emergency or at school. Don’t call me and not have anything to say because I’ve got shit to do. If you really want to hear from me or send some sort of communication, text me. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.

3. If for some reason we aren’t having enough time together, make time. I’ll get up early to spend the morning with you if I’m not too tired but you’ve got to be willing to do the same. Don’t make plans with your friends and family after I ask you if we could meet up during the weekend. If it’s something you can’t get out of and or it requires the entire day, then invite my ass.

4. I get that you want to vent to me about your family and maybe some of your friends, but don’t talk shit and expect me to join you. I don’t know those people like you do. I’ll vent about the people in my life too but don’t you dare talk shit about them. You can express your opinions and concerns about my relationship with other people but not in a way where it comes off as if you downright hate the person.

5. If there’s something bothering you or if I did something to offend or upset you, tell it to my fucking face. We’ll work it out. If you don’t, it comes off as if you don’t trust me or you think very little of how I handle things.

6. I’m glad to meet your friends, I’m ok with you hanging out with them, inviting them over, and I’m proud of you going out of your way to help a friend in need. I won’t get between yall no matter their gender. But if they are talking shit about me, do something about it and don’t bring them around me. Do NOT invite them or have your friends around when it’s suppose to be our time.

7. Now I’ve dated a guy who went from believing in God, to not believe in God to now who believes in pantheism. The other guy is an atheist. Both have confined these parts about themselves to me and both of these boys haven’t really told their families who more or less are Christians. I am a Christian but I do not force my religion onto others nor do I share some qualities of certain Christians because I know humans will (and have) twisted words of faith to benefit themselves and to bring others down. But under any circumstances do NOT start a mother fucking religious “debate” with me. I was open to the idea of dating guys outside my religion as long as they respect mine, I’ll respect theirs but fuck that. Give me a Christian man.

8. Heaven forbid if you somehow find the strength and nerve to tell me what the hell I should eat. Bitch, I’ll eat whatever the fuck I want to eat and don’t you dare try to pull the “I don’t want you to be overweight” as if I won’t still be beautiful if I gain some weight or as if I don’t know how to take care of my body. I’ve been petite the majority of my life, all that weight you’re worrying about is ghosting me. It unfriended and blocked me. It really pisses me off when you’re muffin top ass is telling me this.

9. You can tease me about the things I like because I’ll tease you back about the things you like. But if you talk shit about the clothes I wear, the shows and films I like, the music I like, the car I drive, what I eat, to the fact I’m a major introvert...FUCK YOU. You’re done. And if you breathe some shit about my pet(s) and or my artwork. I will get fucking violent. I will make you crawl out of the relationship battered and bruised.

10. Apologize to me if you hurt my feelings. Doesn’t matter if you think you’re right, I don’t want to deal with you if you hurt my feelings. I don’t even want to talk to you so don’t try to stir a conversation up as if nothing fucking happened. Whether I’m right about something or not, I will apologize if I hurt your feelings because I wouldn’t want you to be sad or angry.

11. I’ll try to get into and understand your hobbies. But don’t disregard mine or others. It makes you look like a pretentious prick.

12. One of my exes stopped smoking as soon as we dated and he found out that I wouldn’t have dated him if he was still smoking. I realize some people have smoking habits and that it’s hard to quit. But this guy, he was really doing it and I was proud of him until I saw him smoking while drinking a beer at a party. I was about to break up with him on the spot but I thought this was a relapsed or that he was hiding the fact that it’s hard for him to quit. Nope. He said he only smokes now when he drinks. I should’ve went through with it and dumped his ass but that would’ve been petty wouldn’t it? Well, idgaf now. You smoke, I won’t date you. If you stopped but smoke again, I will dump you on the fucking spot. I don’t have time for this shit. No smoking and no drugs.

13. If you drink, I don’t mind but I will probably keep my distance from you the rest of the night. Don’t take it too personally though. I don’t like drunks and I’ve had a bad history with people who do drink. I don’t drink myself and I won’t force anyone to not drink. Just don’t try to force me or persuade or guilt me into drinking with you. It’ll only annoy me.

14. I don’t like parties. Let me rephrase that... I don’t like parties with people I don’t know and or close to. I don’t like big parties in general. So if I come across awkward and or anti-social or “fake”, just know I’m uncomfortable in that kind of environment. Don’t get upset with me about it. I’ll endure by staying and I’ll try my best to be “normal” because I do want to be a bit more social and I want you to be happy. But I would be so grateful if you for some reason decided to leave and take me somewhere quieter or with a more relaxing environment.

15. If I say we’re moving to fast, that’s not a fucking reason for you to try to persuade me it’s normal. When I’m not ready, I’m not fucking ready. Whether it’s to meet your parents, for us to move towards the sexual part of our relationship, talking about our future such as living together, us living together, marriage, children and what our daily lives would be like. I don’t care what your experiences are in a relationship, but if someone is not ready, it’s not your fucking decision to make or chance to persuade them into doing things you want.

16. Whatever your parents thoughts are on me, your opinion is the most important. I will respect your parents but for the love of God don’t leave me alone with them!!!

17. Don’t get mad when I don’t want to do anything sexual with you. Especially if you’ve been ignoring me all day. If I’m tired or not in the mood or not ready, leave me alone. If you say you want to watch something with me, then let’s watch something. I’m not about that Netflix and chill life. You can only turn Netflix or music on when we are about to fool around just for background noise.

18. Living together is a huge step and we would have to know each other for years before you even consider the idea. I had to move out of my old house for reasons and I was looking for a place to stay. I couldn’t afford a place of my own and I wasn’t making enough money to live with my friends who had room (pay bills and buy groceries and stuff) and my ex wanted me to move in with him and his parents and his two little brothers and his two tiny dogs. We were only dating for a couple of months and I thought this was a bad idea. What makes matters worse is that they barely had room for me and I wasn’t allowed to bring one of the dogs I was taking care of. So I’m like no, we’re a package deal. If move, he moves with me and no I’m not depending on anyone else to take care of him. Luckily I found somewhere else to stay with my dog and my ex had to move not too soon after all the way to Virginia that was just on the boarder of Washington. Yeah, no. He was still talking about me moving in with him and for some reason he couldn’t get it through his head that I did not have enough money, I am not moving anywhere just to be with some guy, his family moves around too much, I’ve got too much shit to take care of here, I know he didn’t want me to bring my dog but again we’re a package deal, and we haven’t been dating long enough for all that.

19. I one day would like to travel around the world and live somewhere other than the place I grew up but now is not the right time. If I move, it’ll be for the right reasons such as schooling or my career path and I would have money. I’m not going to live somewhere just for a guy and struggle in a place where my needs aren’t being met. My ex asked me if I would travel with him around the world due to a career he wanted. I said sure because I thought he meant, traveling as a vacation but always have a place we could call home. But no he was talking about being stationed for months to years at various places  and always on the move. Fuck that! Just because your fucking family likes to play hot potato and travel wherever the fuck they feel like, doesn’t mean everyone is like that. And how the fuck he came up with the idea of me being afraid to leave home I’ll never understand.

20. I don’t want kids yet. I’m on the boarder line on whether or not I want to adopt a kid but as far as giving birth. Fuck that shit.

21. I was okay with the idea of having a simple marriage to where it’s a small wedding to not having a wedding at all. Then for some damn reason, I said I was okay with not getting married because all that mattered was to be with the man I loved. Fucking stupid romantic girl was I. Now, yes. I do want to get married. Idgaf about the history of marriage. I want someone to be my forever. I want to believe there is a thing called a soul mate. I want to get married and I want to have a wedding. I don’t want a big wedding, but I want it to be one the happiest day of our lives. If you don’t want a future with me, quit wasting my fucking time. I don’t need you.

22. If I get sick, don’t expect me to stay awake for you. I get really sick and would just sleep all day and all night. I would occasionally get up to use the bathroom or eat a snack (my appetite will drop) but that’s about it. I don’t want you to get sick or to go out of your way to do anything extra for me. Let me rest and just keep a eye on me in case I get worse or if I’m having a nightmare.

23. I love massages but if you’re not good at it, get some bath salts, bath bombs, bath oils, bubble bath soap, and join me in the bath.

24. Don’t bring up my ex(es) the fuck out of nowhere. In time we’ll talk about exes but don’t bring them up asking about my feelings for them, if I’m attracted to them still,  or if I still talk to them. It makes you look like a jealous creep whose being very clingy and lack the confidence in our relationship.

25. Don’t belittle the things I care about or what I think matter. I stop giving a fuck about a lot of things, don’t make yourself part of that list.

26. Don’t tell me how I should be feeling or assume you know why I’m feeling a certain type of way, and don’t get mad when I don’t feel something either.

27. Before we dated, my ex was on a dating app and he saw one of my friends there. He swiped left because “She was too pretty that she had to be a guy in drag”....Wtf. Never pull some shit like that. What the fresh hell do you expect me to say to some shit like that?!

28. If I’m tired from working and school and do other responsibilities, don’t say things like I need vitamins or to work out and eat healthy or compare your life to mine and say I shouldn’t be tired.

29. Deflate that big ass head of yours that's housing your ego and quit mansplaining things to me or your attempts to. You’re not always right and the times that you are, I either already know or it doesn’t fucking matter and you just like to hear your own god damn voice.

30. I’m not going to take a four hour drive that ends up being six hours because of traffic just to visit you in your igloo of a house for two days every other weekend... That’s a full twelve hours I spend in my car on the road in a chaotic and stressful traffic. I wouldn’t feel refresh and I would have to get up early in the bloody morning for school you selfish douche.

31. It’s not easy to find a job and I’m not going to drive over an hour to a job that pays minimum wage everyday. That’s a waste of gas and I’ll be loosing more money than I’m earning because I keep having to fill my car with stinking gas everyday!!

32. If you bite your nails or the skin around them. I know it’s a habit but no. It didn’t bother me before but it does now. I’m sorry.

33. If your ankle bitter of a dog tries to bite me, I will kick it in defense. I know she loves you but if you know she does not like people or at least strangers, put her fucking up away from guests dipshit.

34. I have a car. Don’t block my car and let me fucking drive once in a while especially if you’re complaining about money. Quit being an ass by complaining about money but then you don’t want me to drive so you’ll use your gas and money but then you’ll turn right back around about money problems and say you won’t treat me. (When I don’t even ask you to pay but whatever).

35. We don’t always have to go out somewhere. If we spend all day out together, I want to rest and take it easy, not go in the bedroom or drive somewhere you want us to have privacy. Selfish ass.

36. If I’m cooking a big breakfast, don’t be an ungrateful fuck by saying you want to go to iHop. If I’m making and giving you a gift just because, don’t be a ungrateful shit and make it seem like it’s a bother. 

37. Talking about politics is ok every now and then, but if you LOVE to talk about it more than once day everyday? I can’t. It gets annoying, repetitive and I’ll start zoning you out because you won’t shut the fuck up.

38. Don’t pick me up if I really don’t want to be picked up. I have might legs of fury.

39. I can’t dance so don’t expect me to.

40. I get cold easily. I like to cuddle and I like to fall asleep while cuddling. It’s ok if you hog the blankets because I do that sometimes too.

I’m really tired so I’ll stop here for now. If I have anything else to add I’ll do it later

#relationship #single #need a boyfriend #rules #warnings #bad exes

[sethmacsexy20]

Different Worlds Time for Another

The following morning, the alarm went off.  I quickly woke up Seth as he refused to move.  "Baby, it's time to get up."

"Go away."  He groaned.

"No, come on, we have to go to church."  I said with a smile.

He rolled on his back and groaned again.  "I don't want to."

"Hey, now, buddy.  You said you would be there."  I told him sternly.

Again, he groaned but sat up.  I smiled at him and said, "Boys are still sleeping, we can shower together if that will help you wake up."

His eyes lit up as I moved to the bathroom.  I turned on the shower and got it to the right temperature.  As soon as it was, I started to get undressed.  But now Seth was in there, he grabbed me and pinned me against the wall.  He moved in where his lips are inches from mine.  He almost growled against my lips, "I am to do that."

I smiled at this and he kissed me, roughly.  He undressed me and then undressed himself.  We moved into the shower and it heated up quickly.  He bit my lower lip as he assaulted my lips.  He was in one of those moods.  He wanted it rough and I wasn't going to say no.  He moved me up against the wall.  He picked me and I wrapped my legs around him.  He thrust into me, hard, and I moaned out in pleasure.  He quickly moved inside me.  He was pounding into me good and hard and I was loving it.  He was getting into it.  I moaned out again.  Our hands grabbed at each other as we pulled at each other in the pleasure we felt.  I felt the pleasure build up.  I was on the verge, just then, I heard Damien crying.  Seth heard it too as he stopped.  I muttered, "Shit."

Seth groaned out as he was displeased.  I went to unwrap my legs but Seth held onto me tightly.  He breathed, "He is okay.  Doesn't hurt for him to cry for a moment.  I am like on the verge."

I couldn't lie as I thought about it for a moment.  On the one hand, I would feel guilty that I am leaving my baby to cry and potentially waking up my other child.  On the other hand, I knew Seth would be left right on the verge and that too would make me feel bad.  I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.  I pushed Seth away and said, "Let me see if I can just get him to quiet down for a few."

He let me go as I stepped out of the shower.  I wrapped a towel around me and walked into the room.  I walked over and Christian was still asleep.  I grabbed a pacifier and gave it to Damien, it calmed him.  His eyes got heavy again.  Thank god.  After another moment of watching him, I went back into the bathroom.  I unwrapped the towel and got in the shower.  I said to Seth, "I got him to quiet down with the pacifier, he looks to be dozing off again.  But we should make this quick, just in case."

He smirked.  "I'll make it quick, that I can do."

I walked over to him and he grabbed my waist.  He turned me around and I felt his breath on my ear.  "Baby, bend over."

I did just as he said.  I bent over and I felt him enter me again.  I moaned out.  He quickly went back into pounding into me.  I moved a hand against the wall of the shower as I closed my eyes, focusing on what he is doing to me.  It didn't take long at all.  I came and suppressed myself as I didn't want to wake the twins just yet.  He moved an arm around my waist and pulled me to him.  My back was against his chest as we were both slightly bent over.  I felt his breath on my ear again.  I heard his erratic breathing as he was close.  Then, he grunted into my ear as he held my body tight.  I moved my butt around in circles to help release all of him inside me as he kept grunting.  He finally calmed and we both stopped moving.  But he was still holding my body tightly as I heard him breathe heavily against my ear.  I couldn't help it but to smile.  I asked, "Feel better?"

"You have no idea."  He breathed.

I chuckled and he finally unwrapped his arm from around me.  He moved out of me and stepped away.  I moved over to the shower and let the water run over me.  I cleaned myself up as Seth helped.  Once I was cleaned, Seth moved under the water.  Then Damien began to cry again.  I said, "I got him."

I stepped out and grabbed the towel as I put it around my body again.  I walked back in and Damien was back to screaming.  Christian was awake now and just laying there.  They were definitely two different boys already.  I picked Damien up and Seth walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.  I moved Damien to the bed and laid him on it.  He calmed once he saw me.  Then I grabbed Christian and place him next to his brother.  I told Seth, "Watch them for a moment while I get dressed real quick."

He nodded and sat on the bed.  He instantly went to make noises as they giggled and cooed at him.  I couldn't help it but smile at that.  I loved how quick he took to his role as daddy.  I got dressed as Seth kept playing and talking with them.  Once I was done.  I grabbed the boys' outfits and moved over to them.  I told Seth, "You can get dressed now."

He just stood up and I sat on the bed.  I talked to them as I changed them one by one.  Seth was dressed as I finished up with the boys.  I went to finish getting ready and we headed out.  We got in the car and drove back to my hometown to my parents' church.  Once we got there, people greeted us, which I think surprised Seth and I both.  They, now, knew Seth was an atheist and I half expected them to be cold towards him if not both of us, since I knowingly married an atheist, but it was the complete opposite.  My mother noticed my surprise and leaned in.  "The church thought it was amazing that even though Seth is an atheist, he is okay with the boys being christened."

I smiled at this.  We got into the church and sat in the pews.  They did the service and the part of the service came up for our boys to be christened.  Seth and I, with the boys in our arms, walked up there with my mom and dad.  They did everything they did and I would look over to Seth from time to time to make sure he was okay with what was going on.  He seemed to be alright.  He even was smiling.  I smiled at this.  Once service was over, we walked out.  I asked, "Not so bad, huh?"

"Nah.  But I am not going back.  Unless it is a funeral or a wedding, I will not step foot in another church, understand me."  He said to me.

I laughed and nodded.  "I understand, baby."

Afterwards, we went back to my parents’ house and had a small get together with some people from church as a way to celebrate the christening.  Everyone was actually really kind to Seth and even gave him props for allowing this.  I think it warmed his heart they were excepting of him.  As the day progressed, we left and said goodbye to my parents as we had an early morning flight.  We got back to the hotel and the boys were out.  Didn't take much longer for their parents to follow.

The next day, we were on the plane, waiting for departure.  I was sitting in one seat as I held Damien and Seth was next to me with Christian.  I was talking and playing with the boys as they giggled.  I looked over to see Seth watching me as he smiled.  I asked, "What?"

"Let's have another one."  He said, softly.

My eyes widened.  "After the hell we went through this weekend with Damien being sick, you want another."

He nodded.  "Yeah, it was hell but I wouldn't trade it for the world."

I smiled at this.  "I wouldn't either."  Then my smile faded.  "But the boys are only five months old.  Having another one would be insanity."

"No, it would be great.  I know it."  He said, sweetly.

I sighed.  "I don't know."

Then he frowned and got more serious.  "Baby, I am not getting any younger.  If we have one more now, I will be in my early sixties before that one moves out.  I rather get it over with now and raise our kids.  Plus, with us having to find another surrogate, it might take some time.  Come on, baby.  Let's have another baby.  One more, then we are done.  I promise."

I looked at his eyes as they pleaded with me.  I did want another one but wasn't sure if now was the right time.  But Seth was right about everything.  I nodded and said, "Okay, we can start the process."

"So, we are having another one."  He said, almost cheerful.

I smiled and nodded.  "Yes, baby.  We are going to have another baby."

He moved in and kissed me deeply.  I smiled at this.

Once we got to LA and settled back in, we started the process.  It was trying as I was picky on who would carry our child.  I wanted someone who was healthy and stable.  We will pay for their medical bills and a little extra.  After sometime, searching, we found the right match.  I was actually getting excited about the thought of another baby.  Seth and I set up a in home visit to make sure she was the right fit.  I was sitting on the couch, nervous.  The more we talked about another kid, the more I wanted it.  I was afraid that it wasn't going to happen.  The doorbell rang, I looked out and exhaled.  Seth said, "I got it."

I nodded.  He disappeared for a moment and shortly afterwards, came back with a young, beautiful blonde.  She smiled at me as I stood.  She and Seth walked over to me.  The young woman held out her hand to me and said, "Hi, I am Carla."

I smiled and shook her hand.  I then said, "Why don't we sit down?"

We sat down on the couch and I asked, "So, Carla, why do you feel like you are the right woman to do this for us?"

She smiled.  "Cause I know that some people deserve to be parents but can't do it themselves.  I just want to help them.  I know giving a couple, such as you two, a baby, a precious gift."

I smiled at this.  Then she asked, "So, I understand it, you cannot have kids?"

I shook my head.  "My eggs are fine and I can get pregnant but my body cannot with stand it.  I lost two children in my third trimester do to it."

She gasped.  "I'm so sorry to hear that.  That had to be awful."

I nodded.  "Yeah, and my best friend carried my boys but she passed after a horrible car crash.  They were able to save my boys."

"That is a lot of heartache for one person."  She said, sympathetically.

I just looked away as I hated when people did that.  Just then, we heard the boys crying through the monitor.  Seth said, "I got them."

I asked her, "You want to meet them?"

She nodded, happily.  Seth just smiled and walked away.  Her and I made small talk as Seth was gone.  Seth came back shortly after with both of the boys.  He handed me Christian and sat next to me with Damien in his arms.  Carla looked at them and awed, "They are so precious.  I can see why you want to expand your family.  I would love to help you with that."

My eyes lit up.  "So, you'll do it?"

She nodded and I got up with Christian in my arms and hugged her.  "Thank you so much.  This means so much to us."

She chuckled as I hugged her.  We pulled away and she said, happily, "Yeah, well, looks as these boys could use a little brother or sister."

"I hope they get a sister." Seth chimed in.

She slightly laughed and nodded.  Then I said, "So, I guess the agency will let you know what you need to do next and we will do our part and hopefully we will have a baby."

She smiled.  "I will do that."  Then she said, "I can't wait to do this for you two."  Then she said, "I'll see myself out as you two have your hands full."

We nodded and once she was gone.  I looked at Seth as I had tears in my eyes from joy.  I said, happily, "We are going to have another baby."

"Yeah, we are."  He smiled at me.

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#seth macfarlane fanfiction #seth macfarlane #seth fanfic #macfarlane #fanfic

[rjhamster]

God knows what it’s like to grieve over a prodigal child; and to rejoice over his return. —

Jodie Berndt,

Praying the Scriptures for Your Adult Children

by Jodie Berndt, from Praying the Scriptures for Your Adult Children

I will give them a heart to know Me, that I am the Lord. They will be My people, and I will be their God, for they will return to Me with all their heart. — Jeremiah 24:7

Lauren stared at the photo on her phone, barely comprehending what she saw. It was a picture of her son, William, lying in a hospital bed, his head wrapped in a bloody bandage. He had been assaulted in what he said was a random robbery, and Lauren wanted to believe him. Given what they knew about their son’s current lifestyle, she didn’t know what to think. Lauren and her husband, Mike, had been lukewarm about William’s plan to move to Chicago when he graduated from college. They understood why a guy from a small town in Alabama would want to spread his wings, but his idea — to launch a neighborhood-based classified-ad service to sell things like used furniture, cars, and household goods — sounded iffy. William had majored in business, but he knew very little about technology and even less about Chicago’s diverse neighborhoods. But after a six-month job search closer to home turned up nothing, she and Mike had gotten William a plane ticket and wished him well. Their son was hardworking, creative, and intelligent, so who knew? Maybe he’d be one of the success stories. And if not, well, what was the worst that could happen? Lauren had run through a dozen worst-case scenarios in her mind — maybe the business would flop or William would get sick from the city dirt and noise and pollution — but nothing had prepared her for the sight of her son lying in some unknown hospital, more than six hundred miles away. She wished Mike would get home soon; she needed to talk. An orthopedic surgeon, he was usually at the hospital all day on Thursdays, and she hadn’t been able to reach him. Lauren thought back over the past several months. William had burned through most of his start-up money, and then in an effort to recoup his losses, he had started gambling. His drinking, which Lauren and Mike had hoped would lessen once he got out of college, had gotten worse. Lauren didn’t know much about William’s friends and business associates, but the words from Proverbs 13:20 kept coming to mind: Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm. Apparently, William had been walking with some fairly serious fools. When had that started to happen? Lauren didn’t know exactly. William had given his life to the Lord at age twelve, and as he grew, so had his faith. He had been a youth group leader in high school, and when the time came to go to college, he elected to live with a Christian roommate. Lauren and Mike were thrilled when William joined a campus Bible study; surely, the friends and the teaching he’d be exposed to there would help guard him against some of the secular philosophies he would encounter in the classroom. But things hadn’t turned out that way. Parties, football games, and study sessions with his classmates filled William’s calendar, and he began to drift away from Bible study and other fellowship opportunities. It wasn’t as if some atheist had talked him out of his faith; rather, the shift had come gradually as William spent more time with unbelievers than with his Christian friends. And then, almost as if he was looking for an intellectual reason to account for his behavior, William began to question some of the most basic tenets of his faith. Salvation by grace seemed far too simplistic. And the resurrection? Nothing he learned in any of his science classes made that even a remote possibility; it seemed (as William told his parents during his junior year) to be a story designed to bring comfort and hope to people who would grasp at anything to keep their faith alive. Which was fine for them — just not for him. Mike and Lauren hadn’t wanted to alienate their son by revealing the depth of their concern or by arguing against some of his claims. Instead, they welcomed William’s questions, pointing him toward authors like Josh McDowell, Lee Strobel, and C. S. Lewis, apologists whose work they thought might appeal to him on an intellectual level. “But honestly,” Mike had said, after one of their conversations, “I don’t think he is looking for evidence to support Christianity. I think it’s a moral issue, masquerading as an intellectual one. I think he wants to find a worldview to support his quest for independence and self-sufficiency as he runs away from God, something that will justify his rebellion.” Prayer Principle Ask God to work in your prodigal’s mind and spirit, demolishing arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God. (2 Corinthians 10:5) The kitchen door opened, snapping Lauren’s mind back to the present. It was Mike, home from the hospital where he had been making rounds. Lauren showed him the photo and filled him in on what little she knew. “He says it’s nothing serious,” she said. “Some guys jumped him when he was walking home from work. He says they took his wallet…” “Maybe they did,” Mike said, “but we aren’t sending him any more money.” He picked up the phone and enlarged the photo. “It looks like a good bandage job at least. He’ll be okay.” Lauren knew Mike wasn’t being callous or insensitive, and that he was hurting just as much as she was. He was just being practical. But for a mom, it wasn’t that easy. “Mike, I want William to come home,” she said softly. “I think he should,” Mike agreed, “but we can’t make him do anything. He’s literally living the life of the prodigal son — he got us to give him some money, and then he went away to a distant city and squandered it all in wild living. For all we know, he has been eating with pigs!” Lauren knew the story Mike was talking about. It was a parable in Luke 15, one Jesus used to illustrate the heavenly Father’s love and the power of redemption. In that story, the son finally comes home, confessing his sins and giving up any claim he had on the family name. “I am no longer worthy to be called your son,” he says. “Make me like one of your hired men.” (Luke 15:19) Lauren loved that parable — especially the part where the father sees the son in the distance and, throwing dignity to the wind, runs out to embrace his boy in a very public, very emotional reunion. It was perhaps the best illustration she knew of to show how God feels about us, and how utterly ecstatic He is when we acknowledge our own unworthiness and turn to him. Missing from the story, though, was an account of the prodigal’s mother. Surely, she had longed to hear from her boy, to receive some word that he was at least alive. And certainly, when she heard the sound of his greeting, her heart would have leaped right along with her husband’s. Who knows? She might have even beaten him down the street. Lauren knew the story wasn’t about a literal, historical family, one with a real mom and dad. But if it had been, Lauren knew one thing for sure: that mama would have been praying. Prayer Principle God knows what it’s like to grieve over a prodigal child — and to rejoice over his return. Listening to Lauren and Mike, I was reminded of any number of similar accounts people shared with me as I worked on this book. Mothers and fathers told me about their kids’ faith; how they’d grown up in the church, attended Christian camps, or gone on mission trips; and read The Chronicles of Narnia at bedtime. These parents, like so many I interviewed, had done everything in their power to produce Christian kids — and sometimes, as one parent put it, “A plus B really did equal C.” But sometimes (a lot of times, actually), it didn’t.

*

I think my favorite comment came from a mom whose daughter has walked a path no parent would choose for a child. Looking at all of the bad decisions (and tragic consequences) the girl has experienced, and stacking those things up against verses like Genesis 50:20 (“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good”), this sweet mama summed up her perspective like this: “I don’t know what God is doing in my daughter’s life, or why she does the things she does. All I can figure is that she is working on her testimony. And it’s shaping up to be a good one.” For parents who’ve staked their trust in the Lord (and for those who believe, as author Max Lucado puts it, that “we see a perfect mess; God sees a perfect chance to train, test, and teach”1), the idea that our kids are still “working on their testimonies” is a lifeline to hope. And it’s not just their stories that are still being written; Lauren and Mike don’t know what the future holds for William, but they’d be the first to tell you that his experience has shaped their own spiritual journey in a powerful way. “We’ve prayed more than ever before,” Lauren told me, “and we’ve learned to wait on God. It’s hard not to let fear and worry cloud the picture, but the more we look into the bright light of God’s love, the more those dark things are obliterated. This trouble has been a gateway for us to get to know God better; our prayer is that it will also be a gateway for William.” Prayer Principle The light of God’s love is what scatters the darkness. Tether your prayers to the brightness of His promises. “We’ve learned that we are completely helpless,” Mike added. “We cannot change or control our kids’ lives; all we can do is trust in a God who has given us great and precious promises.” Mike is right. We are helpless, at least insofar as it comes to dictating the way our adult children think and behave. Many of them are out of our reach, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. But they are not out of God’s — and He invites us to join Him in the work He is doing, through prayer. We are not helpless there; even when we have no idea how to pray, God has us covered. “The Spirit helps us in our weakness,” Paul writes in Romans 8:26: We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. 1. Max Lucado, You’ll Get through This: Hope and Help for Your Turbulent Times (Nashville: Nelson, 2013), 10. Excerpted with permission from Praying the Scriptures for Your Adult Children by Jodie Berndt, copyright Jodie Berndt.

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Your Turn

Many believers have prodigal sons and daughters. You are not alone in praying Scripture over your loved one who has pushed Jesus away. Let’s pray together knowing that God is doing far more than we could ask or imagine to bring that lost one back to Himself! Come share your thoughts with us on our blog. We would love to hear from you!