#Who Said God Was Ever Clean? [Dash Commentary] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gffa · 3 years

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I’m not going to reply to the original ask, it was a little too long (look, sometimes I am watching out for your guys’ dashes! 😂) and the quotes selected aren’t really relevant to the answer, because there are two things at play here: 1. The big, thorny discussion of Star Wars “lore”. Like, I cannot even begin to describe what a pain in the ass it is to try to set up the structure of a discussion--are we taking books written in 2010, before TCW was even finished, on the same level as GL’s commentary? That’s not a snide question, it’s a genuine query about the structure of the discussion. (And it’s setting aside the question of whether or not to include word of god commentary at all, because it’s perfectly valid not to! But this is a discussion about GL’s word of god commentary, so it’s going to include it.) 2. Attachment is not the same thing as love or connection with others. Attachment is the specific clinging, grasping inability to live without the other person for your sake, rather than for theirs. It’s about your happiness at having them in your life, rather than them being happy. It’s about how you would rather burn down the galaxy to keep them than you would rather live without them. Attachment absolutely is a path to the dark side, that’s explicitly stated by word of god commentary. That’s just how it works in Star Wars. A quote from Star Wars Archives: “[Jedi Knights] do not grow attachments, because attachment is a path to the dark side. You can love people, but you can’t want to possess them. They’re not yours. Accept that they have a fate. Even those you love most are going to die. You can’t do anything about that. Protect them with your lightsaber, but if they die they were going to die, there’s nothing you can do. All you can do is accept that fact. “In mythology, if you go to Hades to get them back you’re not doing it for them, you’re doing it for yourself. You’re doing it because you don’t want to give them up. You’re afraid to be without them. The key to the dark side is fear. You must be clean of fear, and fear of loss is the greatest fear. If you’re set up for fear of loss, you will do anything to keep that loss from happening, and you’re going to end up in the dark side. That’s the basic premise of Star Wars and the Jedi, and how it works. “That’s why they’re taken at a young age to be trained. They cannot get themselves killed trying to save their best buddy when it’s a hopeless exercise.” –George Lucas Attachment, when Star Wars uses it, is not a good or healthy thing, so this whole conversation about how “the Jedi should allow attachments!” is disagreeing with how the world of SW functions, it’s saying that the Jedi should be on a path to the dark side then, that they should be willing to kill anyone in their path just to find a way to stop death from happening because they don’t want to live without the person. That’s why the Jedi forbid attachment, because it’s unhealthy and dangerous for them as space psychics and can hurt a whole lot of people. What they don’t forbid is caring about people, loving people, even specific people. I mean, nobody looks at Obi-Wan and Anakin in the movies or TCW, sees how they genuinely care about and love each other very specifically, and says that that’s bad or that they’re too close, their teaching system includes a specific Master and Apprentice combination that naturally lends itself to caring about that specific person and nobody ever says they’re not allowed or that it’s bad. Even in ROTS, when Obi-Wan says he can’t kill Anakin specifically, Yoda doesn’t say that Obi-Wan shouldn’t care, but instead recognizes that care and says that Anakin’s gone. He even tries to keep Obi-Wan from the pain of seeing the security footage because he knows Obi-Wan cares very much about Anakin specifically and never indicates that that’s an inherently bad thing. What they do say is that being a Jedi is a commitment on par with a marriage to this life and you can’t have two marriages, because you can’t be wholly committed to two things. And you should be committed to your spouse, if you’re going to marry them! You should be able to prioritize your life around them! You should be able to make decisions based on your relationship with them! But Jedi are put in situations where they have to be completely neutral and, if they fall prey to being willing to do anything to prioritize someone, then that can really hurt people. And this isn’t just romantic relationships, either! For example: In Master and Apprentice, Rael Averross has become attached to Princess Fanry, to the point that he doesn’t see her for who she really is, he’s willing to nearly fuck over literal millions of people, to disenfranchise them out of their ability to vote, because he wants Fanry to be happy, because his feelings about her (and his unresolved issues with the death of his Padawan) led him to prioritize her feelings over his duty. And those people were counting on him to be responsible to them. The bio-families thing is separate from this discussion--for one, it’s putting biological relationships as the most important solely for being biological, like it doesn’t matter that the Jedi raised them as their family, it’s more important who their blood relatives are? And, second, they do know that information, there’s a Jedi Knight who is perfectly well aware of their family in Heir to the Jedi. Or things like--where was it said in TCW or the movies that Anakin wasn’t allowed to talk to Shmi because the Jedi said no? Yes, I’m aware that some Legends books say that, but that circles us back to, “Do you put a 2003 novel on the same level as George Lucas’ canon and commentary? Are we discussing the relationship between GL’s commentary and the source material he created OR are we talking about how consistent other authors’ supplementary material is to GL’s commentary?” Ultimately, within the content that GL produced (the six movies + TCW), the Jedi are consistent with GL’s commentary about what attachment is and what it isn’t and how they act. And sometimes supplementary material are not always going to be consistent with what GL put out, especially because GL himself was extremely clear that he wasn’t really super involved with the books and comics.

#jedi order #attachment #george lucas #meta #long post

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babyybitchhh · 3 years

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Ace x Reader 18+

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 3,201

Warnings: oral sex, cunnilingus, semi established relationship, first time

A/N: Wrote this for my editor in chief, who just got to the climax of Marineford and is very upset about ... you know. She gave the okay to post it, so please enjoy! : )

♥♥♥♥

You were halfway through the motion of lifting the overstuffed laundry basket so you could hand it off to Marco when you suddenly caught movement at the corner of your eye. Distracted from the task at hand, you swivel around only to find Ace leaning through the doorway, beckoning you over with a wave and a big mischievous grin. You eagerly start to smile back, excited to see him, but the sound of Marco expectantly clearing his throat stops you from bolting.

Sheepishly, you turn back around to glance at the blond who offers you a droll look in response. “Don’t even think about it, missy … you’ve been shucking your laundry duty off on other people for weeks now. Do you really think I’ll just let you take off like that?”

Your mouth pulls in a frown, dejected, and Ace not-so-helpfully chimes in with a grumble of ‘no fun!’ Brow arching wryly, Marco shoots him a quick look of warning, putting a stopper on any further commentary before turning his attention to you again.

“Sorry,” you murmur, holding out the basket in resignation. Whatever Ace wanted would just have to wait until the chores were finished.

Silently, Marco takes the laundry from you, studying the dispirited droop of your shoulders for a long beat until, at last, he heaves a yielding sigh. “Go.”

Your head immediately comes up. “What? Really?”

“Yes, really.” He says, trying not to smile when Ace loudly whoops from his spot at the door. “But you owe me. Both of you do, so you’ll take turns filling in for me on the chore rotation, got it?”

“For how long?” You ask, not exactly trusting his generosity at face value. But Ace was already dashing across the room to grab your wrist and unceremoniously yank you towards the doorway, making you squeak and stumble after him.

“A month!” You hear Marco shout after you, just barely, over the racket of Ace’s heavy boots on the plank floorboards.

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond, clearly making the decision for you as he drags you down the hall like a clumsy toddler until you get your feet situated under you. Laughing, you pick up the pace to jog alongside him with your heart in your throat, cheeks flushed and warm. He was laughing as well, his howling chortle much louder than yours, as his grip adjusts to your fingers so he can swing your arm back and forth between the two of you.

“Where are we going?” You giggle, struggling to breathe around the happy flutter in your chest.

“You’ll see! I’ve got a surprise for you!”

That gives you pause - or at least it would have, if he hadn’t been steering you down the winding corridors of the Moby Dick at an excitable pace. You were completely at his mercy now that he had you in his clutches and all you could do was go along with it, tittering the whole while.

You’re a little surprised, though, when he pulls you right up to the door of his cabin a few moments later, but Ace doesn’t so much as pause. Swinging the door open, he storms inside and slams it shut again before yanking you towards the cot.

“Sit.”

You do, but not without shooting him an inquisitive look.

“Now close your eyes.”

You do this, too, with butterflies in your stomach. Ace was a kind soul, certainly, but he was also prone to making impulsive, sometimes questionable decisions so you weren’t really sure what to expect while you listened to him move about in the small room. It was really anyone’s guess at this point, and you start slightly when you feel him slide something into your lap.

“Okay,” he says, plopping his butt on the mattress to sit beside you. “Open them.”

Obediently, you do just that only to find yourself blinking down at a ribbon wrapped box. It wasn’t very big at all, so likely not anything too extreme, but you could tell the bow on top wasn’t messy enough to be his doing, and you shoot him a questioning glance.

Ace’s grin only widens though; big and boyish, and so frustratingly charming that it makes your heart twist. You still couldn’t believe the effect he had on you, sometimes. “Go on, take a look. I think you’ll like it.”

Certain you would like it, you take the end of the ribbon in hand and tug. It comes loose with a slither and you feel for the seam with your fingertips, quickly finding it and working the top off so you can peer inside.

“Ace …” you warble after a prolonged moment of surprised quiet, eyes wide and glossy. “You shouldn’t have.”

He snickers as he leans close to your shoulder, proudly joining you in regarding the small, personal sized tiramisu sitting within. “It’s your favorite, right? I knew I had to get you something when I saw the bakery in town and I hurried back to the ship as fast as I could so it wouldn’t get all soggy. I hope it still tastes okay.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying valiantly to fight back the happy, reflexive tears that threaten to spill over your lashes. “You really shouldn’t have, but thank you. That was so sweet of you.”

His smile falters slightly when he looks up at your face and sees the misty quality of your eyes, fluster quickly creeping into his expression. “Hey, hey! It’s nothing to cry about!” He huffs, suddenly awkward, as he reaches over to drag his index finger through a corner of the cake. “Here, give it a taste. Tell me if it’s any good.”

Your mouth opens, wanting to tell him you’re sure it’s delicious, but he slips the cream covered digit past your lips before you can get so much as a word out. Cheeks warming, you noise around the intrusion and turn a plaintive look up at him even as you shyly clean the tip of his finger with soft little kitten licks. That seems to please him a great deal, his grin returning at full force in just a matter of seconds.

“Yummy?” He prompts, withdrawing his finger.

“Yummy …” you agree as your hand comes up to timidly touch at your mouth. “It’s really good, actually. Thank you.”

“No problem. You know I’m always looking out for you!”

Mouth tugging into a smile, you watch as Ace leans back with his hands braced on the cot, face tilted up at the ceiling. He seemed so content and happy just to share his space with you, lightly humming a faint tune under his breath while he kicks his feet back and forth over the edge of the bed. In so many ways, he reminded you of a little boy when he was like this. Carefree and easy. Untroubled. It wasn’t a side of him that many got to see and, feeling quite fortunate, you start to reach for the cake.

“Here, you have some too.”

“Mmmm. No thanks. I’m good.”

Blinking, you curiously glance over at him. “Oh? You liked it the last time, though.”

“Yeah, but … I’m not really in the mood for dessert right now.” Neck turning, Ace drops his cheek to his shoulder and casually sends a meaningful glance down the length of your body to settle on the spot between your thighs. A sharp thrill immediately races through you, face warming alarmingly quick. He laughs at your reaction, all good natured humor and charming as he starts to tip his head back again. “I’m just teasing ya’, don’t worry. I wouldn’t want to - -“

“I don’t mind.”

His laughter abruptly cuts off with a sputter. “What?”

Face growing even hotter, you nervously shuffle your feet against the floor. “I said I don’t mind. If you really want to, that is. It’s okay if you were just joking - -“

Ace jumps up from the cot so fast you’d think he accidentally set it on fire if you didn’t know any better.

Eyes widening, you let him snatch the cake box from your slack hands and watch as he urgently sets it aside with quick, jerky motions. His expression is suddenly dark when he leans down to hook broad, calloused hands under your knees and pull up, flipping you onto your back.

“Ah - Ace!”

“Were you serious just now?” He asks, not stopping long enough to hear the answer before sinking down to the floor and sending you a hopeful puppy dog look from where he was now knelt between your legs.

“Y - yes,” you tell him truthfully. “I was. But you don’t have to though, I just - -“

He abruptly drops his face into the meat of your thighs, startling a squawk out of you. Embarrassed, your grasping fingers shoot down to tangle in his wavy hair as he inhales a deep, stuttering breath that makes his shoulders rise dramatically like some sort of hunching beast.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.” He practically growls against you.

“You should have said something then …”

Ace’s only response is a low, rumbling groan to accompany the tight squeeze of his fingers on your hips. You tense and shudder for him as he drags those big hands of his further down to take hold of your thighs and ease them apart. The breath catches in your throat when he promptly nuzzles into you, rubbing his face against your tingling cunt as if he were a cat marking its territory. You struggle not to screw your eyes shut at the sensation of him so intimately close to your core, smelling you and basking in the warmth bleeding through your clothes, but you force yourself to keep watching.

To bear witness to the way he presses in so tight his nose wrinkles up, brows furrowed in unconcealed pleasure. To see how the wavy strands of his hair rest along the curve of your thighs and then cling to the fabric of your skirt when he impatiently shoves it up out of his way. To appreciatively drink in the sight of him, all dark eyed and freckled, staring hungrily at the pudgy seam that runs down the center of your panties just as a starving man might look at a bountiful harvest.

He was easily the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and, based on the way he was looking at you, that feeling was apparently mutual.

“You’re sure?” It’s a soft question, but it rings loud in the quiet cabin.

“I … I’m positive, Ace. You don’t need to hesitate.”

Loudly exhaling the breath he’d been holding, he snags his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugs. Your throat constricts as you twist on top of the bed, helping him work the cotton down over your legs. He tosses them without a second thought as soon as they’re loose, quickly diving back in to shove his face into your bare pussy, making you jolt.

You have to bite down on your lower lip to keep quiet when you spread your legs further apart for him, delighting in the way he eagerly nuzzles against you without another thought to the matter. His lips purse against your slit and he kisses you, just as passionately as he does your mouth when no one’s looking. A whimper promptly claws up the back of your throat, high strung and needy, and Ace responds in kind with a rumbling sigh of his own.

Blunt fingers knead into the doughy soft flesh of your thighs as he tilts his head so he can better work your labia apart. You shiver at the sensation of warm spit gathering along the crease of your body, slowly dribbling down your skin and mixing with sticky slick to leave you feeling obscenely damp. The realization that he was excitedly drooling all over your pussy, panting and faintly moaning into you as if you two had been at this for hours, has your toes curling in premature ecstasy.

His rough lips were the perfect contrast on your delicate folds, sending intense shockwaves of friction through you that felt like something akin to fireworks. You heave, spine arching off the bed when Ace finally dips the plushy swell of his tongue inside to truly taste you and tease at your clit. Fingers scrabbling across his broad shoulders, you latch onto him with your nails, fighting to keep yourself grounded rather than let the heat of the moment swallow you up.

It was the middle of the day on a heavily manned ship, after all, and there was no lock on the cabin door. If someone came calling on him for one reason or another they probably wouldn’t hesitate to barge in unannounced. This was Ace you were talking about here. He wasn’t someone that often concerned himself with pleasant niceties such as knocking so why would they show him that courtesy?

It would be over in an instant and you’d both be caught red handed, no questions asked. Word of this incident would spread fast, no doubt, depending on who found the two of you like this, but everyone on board will have certainly heard about it by sundown. You just couldn’t afford to get carried away right now, for your sake as much as his - but it was so hard not to cry out in pleasure when he was languidly dragging his tongue up and down the length of your slit to gather all the accumulated fluid and swallow it down in one big gulp.

Seething, you finally give in to the urge and squeeze your eyes shut as your head tips back against the haphazardly strewn sheets, the smell of him swarming your senses all over again. “Ace … please …!”

“Mmmm, yes, baby,” he murmurs against you, muffled by the meat of your cunt. “Say it again. For me?”

“Ah! A - Ace! Please … pleeeaaase!”

It’s hard to keep your voice down but, somehow, you manage to hush your desperate pleas to a mere whisper, strained and cracking. He responds in kind, moaning softly as he nuzzles deeper, making your pliant pussy lips mold against his face. Hooded obsidian eyes rove up to regard you as he does it, watching your expression twist in pleasure with nothing short of a fierce, almost predatory interest reflecting in his dark irises.

Ace was hungry for you in a way you never would have anticipated, his lips and his tongue voraciously laving you in warm, wet attention, quickly winding the spring inside you tighter and tighter. Your sensitive cunt was already throbbing for him, threatening to burst at a moment's notice if he wasn’t careful. You could hardly breathe through it, so heavy and gratifying, as his insatiable, relentless mouthing continued to work you over until you were half delirious with it.

Despite wanting to savor this, you knew, instinctively, that you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Ace … I - I’m gonna’ …”

The sound he makes in response is very nearly a snarl, bordering on animalistic and feral. His fingers come up to press into your labia and spread them, finally - finally! Exposing your clit fully to his mouth. You suck in a haggard gasp of air and try to brace for it, but still jolt as if you’d been electrocuted when he drags the flat of his tongue over that pulsating little bud tucked away inside silken folds. Your vision whites out for a split second, entirely overwhelmed, nails clawing at his shoulder blades with an almost savage sort of desperation. A scream rises in the back of your throat, choking you when you refuse to give it voice.

Embarrassingly, all it takes is three quick swipes of his tongue to send you into a fit of convulsions, fresh tears instantly welling up in your eyes. This time, however, they track freely down the sides of your face while you struggle to keep yourself in check even as you twist and writhe underneath him, mewling as quietly as you can. You sound like something broken, an injured calf in its death throes, and Ace the ravenous wolf drinking your lifeblood as if it were sacrament.

He doesn’t let up for what feels like a small eternity, persistently lapping at your sensitized clit until you finally issue a wounded, half stifled shriek that seems to echo against the cabin walls. Coming up off you with a wet, wheezing gasp, he watches the way you slap a hand to your mouth and quake through the lingering tremors of your orgasm from under the fall of messy, sweat slicked bangs. So obviously entranced by the sight of you even as his bare chest contracts with quick, heavy breaths that give away the true extent of his tense arousal.

“You look so good like this ..” he murmurs, comfortingly dragging his hands across your trembling thighs as you start to ease down from your high. “Coming apart just for me. How’d I ever get so lucky, huh?”

Whimpering, you reach for him with shaking fingers and Ace attentively obliges, climbing up onto the cot and settling over you with his knees bracketing your hips. He swoops down to catch your mouth with his, and you moan at the taste of yourself as you languorously stretch out beneath him. The buzz of your afterglow was potently intoxicating, making your head spin long after the pulses had finally stopped, leaving you warm and comfortable. Satiated.

Sighing pleasantly into the kiss, you card your hand through his hair, working out a few errant knots here or there before tilting your head back to look up at him. “I think I’m the lucky one, actually … I’ve never felt so good in all my life, Ace.”

He chuckles when he leans down to adoringly press his forehead to yours, eyes locking from just a scant few inches away. “Guess we’re both lucky then, baby girl. I couldn’t ask for anything else, you know that?”

“That makes me happy,” you warble, feeling like you could just burst all over again.

“Me too.” Sighing contentedly, Ace snuggles somehow even closer to you and tries to get comfortable, but the prodding weight pressed into your thigh seems to give him a bit of trouble. He shifts awkwardly, looking for a position that will ease the strain on his cock, but it doesn’t appear as though one is very forthcoming in his current predicament.

You hesitate to do it but, quickly making up your mind, you reach down and shyly grasp at him through his pants. It’s his turn to jolt as if he’d just been shocked, and his attention whips around to practically gape at you. It probably would’ve been rather funny, the flabbergasted look on his face, if only your pussy wasn’t still soaking wet and silently begging to be stretched.

“I want to.” You tell him quietly.

Ace visibly gulps, swallowing his nerves. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I know for a fact that there isn’t a single soul in this world I would rather have. Please …?”

Luckily, you don’t have to ask him twice.

#portgas d. ace #ace x reader #one piece #self insert bullshit #my writing

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onebatch2batch · 7 years

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Full disclosure: I have not written anything substantial in well over two years. No fanfiction, no original works, no poetry. After watching the Punisher (twice now) it seems like I’m finally able to do it again so I present you with one of the 6 or 7 works I started over the weekend. Feel free to leave commentary, it’s always appreciated. :)

Kastle, 1804 words, post-Punisher series

AO3

“Three months, Frank, and you come in through the window like Edward from Twilight. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” she asked, half frustrated and honestly, half relieved. She was beginning to think he’d left for good.

(In which Karen has a new apartment, a lot to drink, and has words.)

Karen Page knew it wasn’t a good idea to pull out the bottle of bourbon she kept hidden away in her cupboard, but it had been an extremely long week. Not only did every lead she had for her top story wither and dry up before her eyes, but she had finally made the move to her new apartment. After several months of living with a wall full of bullet holes, she had decided it was time. That meant the constant stubbing of toes on boxes and the restless sleep that accompanied sleeping in a place that is not quite yet your own. To top everything off, tomorrow marked the 90th day without seeing or hearing anything from Frank Castle.

Karen sighed and stretched out on her couch, taking a solid pull from her glass. Her apartment was awash in the light from the kitchen, but she was far enough from it that she sat in shadows, watching the moonlight creep across the living room floor. It was quiet in her apartment, but outside the window she heard the normal hustle and bustle of Hell’s Kitchen, even at the late hour. It had been 90 days since that horrible, terrifying day in the hotel. A shiver ran down her spine when she remembered seeing Lewis’ blood splattered across the door, as much as she was glad he was gone. Karen had been through a lot since moving to New York, but one finger twitch from being blown to smithereens has certainly done a number on her nerves. She had been especially grateful for Frank that day, and even more so that he knew more about claymores than the typical man. Her thoughts turned to the moment in the elevator with Frank, and she felt worry wash over her, just as it did every time she thought of him that day.

He’d been covered in more blood than he was clean. His eyes had been wide, but not of fear. More of the intense need for survival, to get out clean, to make sure that she wasn’t hurt. She remembered the way he had looked at her, leaning forward to touch his forehead to hers. She didn’t know if it was the adrenaline in her system or if she was just imagining things, but for the briefest of moments she could have sworn he was going to—

Karen scoffed and shook her head, pouring herself another drink. She couldn’t let herself think about that anymore. It had been three months and while she knew Frank was alive (thanks to Micro—or David—or whatever he wanted to be called) his priority was obviously not seeing her. She forced the bitterness down and leaned her head against the arm of the couch, sagging into the cushions. It wasn’t long until the drinks and silence lulled her to sleep.

It was early in the morning when she heard a noise that forced her eyes open. The kitchen light was still on, and the moon was still shining through the open window. The bottle of bourbon looked much emptier than the remembered, which may have explained why the room was spinning. Karen’s eyes swept the room, squinting through the darkness as she slowly sat up. Her eyes moved to the window again and her spine stiffened in fear.

Open window.

She never opened the window.

Almost immediately she shot up, adrenaline sobering her, and reached for her purse on the table. She still had the gun from Fisk’s man and she whipped it out, holding it out to the darkness. “Listen,” she said hoarsely, and cleared her throat, “whoever you are, get the fuck out of my apartment!”

The soft laughter from the dark hallway stopped her in her tracks.

“Attagirl,” came the familiar phrase.

“Frank?” she whispered, eyes widening in shock when he stepped into the soft moonlight. He smiled crookedly at her, gesturing at her gun.

“Gonna put that thing away before someone gets hurt?” he chuckled, but there was an edge to his voice that she couldn’t place. He switched the light on, temporarily blinding her, as she lowered the gun and switched on the safety.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” she hissed when her eyes focused on him. He looked-…well, he looked good. Better than she’s ever seen him. He had one black eye but other than that he was clean-shaven, his hair had begun to grow out and most importantly, he wasn’t bleeding. Her question came out a little more venomous than she’d like, but her heart was pounding and the adrenaline was causing her to feel sick. Or maybe that was the alcohol. Either way, she dropped back onto the couch, placing her hands over her face.

A moment later, the cushion next to her sunk slightly and she felt the reassuring warmth of his body next to her. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and she turned her head to look at him in exasperation. Those brown eyes seemed to be staring straight through her. He was in a blank long sleeved shirt that strained against his arms, and his normal khakis.

Thankfully, he looked a little ashamed. He did that little sway he did when he was turning words over in his head, thinking of what to say next. She sighed and stood up, grabbing another glass from the kitchen and pouring them both a drink. “I didn’t know if you’d have me,” he said finally after taking a sip.

“Frank.” Karen said, rolling her eyes. She felt the alcohol hitting her again. “That is some bullshit, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Frank frowned at her, annoyance creasing around his eyes. “What’re you talkin’ about, ma’am?”

“You,” she said in the voice of someone who had most definitely been drinking, while poking him in the chest, “may be the Punisher, but you are also a bullshitter.”

The absurdity of her situation hit her then, and Karen let out a laugh. She knew a lot had to do with the relief coursing through her system, and the bourbon warming her belly, and the come down from the adrenaline, but she felt lighter than she had in months. “Fuck,” she laughed, “the Punisher just climbed through my window, and I’m cursing him out.”

Franks lips twitched upwards so quickly that it was gone the moment she blinked. “That funny to you?” he asked quietly, putting his glass on the coffee table. He had a strange look on his face, a shadow of the look he gave her in the elevator that day.

Karen’s laughter trailed off as she set her glass down, and she sighed. “Look, Frank, do you want me to forgive you? Is that what you want? Because fine, you’re forgiven. I don’t know where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing, but I haven’t heard from you in months and thank God for Micro or I would have had to assume you died, since you know the last time I saw you was in that elevator. And you know Frank, you know what? You didn’t look too good then. You absolutely could have died.” She’s gotten a little hysterical now, and her eyes were starting to get misty like they did when she was overcome by emotion. She’d always been a crier, and this was no exception.

Frank, for his part, had become a statue. He was watching her tirade with wide eyes, shoulders tensed. The only indication he was still breathing was the rapid tapping on his trigger finger on his thigh and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

After a minute more, Karen felt two hands grip her arms gently, and suddenly she was encased in Frank’s arms. He pressed her gently to him, almost like he was waiting for her to explode at the movement. Almost immediately she sunk into his embrace, burying her tear-stricken face into his shirt. He smelled like gun oil and cheap soap, but the smell was comforting and calmed her.

“I know,” he whispered into the crown of her head. “’m sorry, I wanted to give you a chance to get away from me. I wanted you to--to move on from me. I’m bad news, Page. I was hopin’ you’d realize that.”

Karen pushed him away angrily. “That’s not for you to decide, Frank Castle!” she snapped angrily, then threw caution to the wind and grabbed him by his collar, yanking his lips down to hers.

Frank tasted different than she imagined. He tasted like the first real wind of winter. He tasted like iron and a hint of bourbon. His mouth was soft, tentative on hers as she moved into his space once again. His entire body seemed to radiate a heat that pierced her skin. His hands came up and touched either side of her face, then trailed down to her shoulders and pushed gently.

Karen moved back and looked away, biting her lip. Retrospectively, she realized this might have pushed him to far. Obviously after three months he wasn’t expecting her like this: threatening, angry, crying, and now kissing him. Embarrassed tears gathered in her eyes and she dashed at them with her sleeve quickly. She would not make herself out to be any more of a fool than she already had.

“Hey, uh,” Frank swallowed thickly, wiping a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. “Look Karen. I’m sorry, that I, y’know, did this to you. I never wanted to see you upset. And, hey—“ Frank lifted her chin so she could look into his eyes. They were soft, but something in them burned through her all the way down to her toes. “I want this,” he told her softly, “but not like this.”

Karen heart stopped in her chest, then exploded into a frenzy. “What?” she breathed, shocked.

Frank leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, chuckling softly. “You’re drunk,” he informed her, like he was telling her the weather. It had been a long time since she’d seen him laugh that way, so softly she could have missed it. “We can have this conversation when you’re sober.”

Karen reached out to catch his sleeve before he could stand. He looked at her, raising a brow questioningly.

“Will you stay? I promise I won’t kiss you again tonight.”

This time he laughed, a full laugh that warmed her from the inside out. He smiled at her and nodded, and there was a promise in his eyes.

“Yeah, Kar, I’ll stay.”

#kastle #kastle ff #kastle fanfic #mine #karen page #frank castle #the punisher #my writing

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eeejay-blog1 · 7 years

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A lil rant in between PT sessions

Being bored as fuck, I’ve been trawling around Tumblr looking for posts and users with conditions similar to mine (thanks to y’all who follow back) and I keep coming across this “pee your pants” bullshit

No one’s ever said it to me personally, hallelujah

But do you know what it’s like to endure incontinence as an adult?

From age 5 to age 19, my daytime bladder control was 100% on point. I could make the 5-hour drive from home to college, drinking two water bottles and an energy drink, and not stop for a single restroom. I made it an entire 8-hour shift at work without pissing once (mostly because the restrooms there were nasty) and didn’t even realize it until I drained what felt like a gallon afterward. “Urgency” was a word without meaning; sure, I could tell when I needed to piss, but there’d be another 2 or 3 hours before it really started to get annoying.

The first few times it happened to me, it was late and I’d been drinking a lot, so it wasn’t all that unexpected. Sensed an urge, figured I could wait a bit, ended up figuring wrong. Plus, I’ve had issues at night basically my entire life, so I wrote it off as “ah shit my body’s so drunk it probably thinks I’m asleep right now.” My friends obviously gave me hell for it when they realized what happened, but they were wasted too so we all bore it in great stride. After it happened at a (thankfully poorly-lit) frat party, I resolved not to go beyond two drinks per hour, and that was the end of that for about a year.

Gradually, the sensation of needing to go would hit me with shorter and shorter notice. I was still working out a lot at this point, pounding more than enough water and taking creatine daily, so I rationalized it as a side effect of extra fluids. A few extra trips to the restroom per day wasn’t really a big deal. Then at work one day, I felt an urge about 5 hours in, still one hour away from my next break. Looked around for my coworker to have her watch my desk and listen for calls, but she’s helping some cashier with a coupon or some bullshit. No big deal, I could wait a sec. A minute or two goes by, she’s still with the cashier. Another minute, now the self-checkouts are having some issue so off she goes. Suddenly, a creeping sensation goes down my leg (not uncommon when I hunch over the desk and flex my back) but it feels familiar. And warm. I look down and bam, there’s something dripping onto the floor. I try resisting, stopping the stream so I could attempt a mad dash to the toilet, but that works for about five seconds before it starts up full force. My mind is a fucking cacophony of “how the fuck is this happening? why does my body hate me?” Thank god for dark jeans, a desk about waist-high, and the paper towels we keep behind it, because I was able to clean up the puddle and dispose of the evidence before anyone noticed. My water intake also meant it didn’t really smell like much, and I was able to take my jeans off in my car on break to air them out.

Needless to say, that made me a thousand times more cautious. Setting timers on my phone, making sure I piss every 3 hours at minimum, and being a slave to that schedule worked for a month. Then, sitting in a 2-hour class where I just pissed before it started, the urge monster rears its ugly head a little past halfway through. I get up and hastily shuffle out of my row, dash out the door and down the hall. Look around the corner into the restroom, the urinals are occupied but I think I see a free stall. Doesn’t matter, bladder thinks the restroom floor is fine. By the time I was able to get into the stall and whip it out, there was nothing left to piss; it was all on the floor and my shorts. I literally had to wait in the stall for fifteen minutes until everyone was gone, so I could air out my shorts under the hand dryer. A couple guys came in while I was doing that, and between the puddle on the tile and the state of my shorts, I guarantee they had an idea of what was going on. I didn’t hear any chuckles or commentary, but that damn well may have said something and I just ignored it in my mortified dissociated state.

At that point I knew protection was necessary, something every adult in the same leaky boat never wants to admit at first. There’s a learning curve to it; pads and sheaths had nowhere near the capacity I needed, pull-ons and anything from a store brand could handle 3-4 hours of use before I’d need to find somewhere to change. High-capacity absorbents are bulky, expensive, and make you feel like everyone can tell what you’re wearing. External catheters mostly solve that, despite getting uncomfortable (imagine wearing a condom all day), but a leg bag can only hold so much before it needs to be emptied, or else the sleeve pops off and I’ll have the same problems as before. And yes, all of those products will leak at some point, so there’s a certain degree of constant paranoia and feeling around your thighs for wet spots. Not to mention the paranoia of making sure your shirt is cut low enough, your pants are sitting high enough and fit loosely enough, etc. There’s a definite stigma on everything except the catheter, where you’d be just as embarrassed to have someone see what you’re wearing as you’d be to have them see you piss yourself unprotected.

Nowadays (which means pre-surgery, since I still have yet to find out how everything really runs in that department now), my symptoms leveled off at getting an urge every 2-3 hours or so, having a 2-minute window in which I can get to a restroom, and letting everything loose. When I’m home, the toilet’s close enough that I can safely make it, but any trips to unfamiliar or public places bring a whole lot of uncertainties. What type of protection to wear? How long will I be out? Are there places to change? Will someone notice? Will I leak? Ultimately, incontinence turned me into a bit of a shut-in, where work, friends’ places, and the beach are the only places worth all the hassle.

Bear in mind, if you’re peeing your pants, you probably want to see a doctor. That usually leads to urodynamics. Basically, they shove a tube in your dick to drain it. Then they fill it back up til you’re about to burst, then drain it again. There’s cameras, pressure gauges, a whole lot of poking and prodding from the inside. It hurts. You will piss (hopefully only a bit of) blood afterward. I’ve endured it 3 times in my adult life (with a fourth scheduled at my follow-up) and it doesn’t get easier.

And here’s some other things for you to consider before you say “pee your pants”:

Urostomy (hole in your side and a bag hanging on your belly)

Mitrofanoff (using your appendix to make a hole in your side that you have to catheterize to empty)

Clean Intermittent Catheterization (using a catheter every 4 hours for the rest of your life, yes that means waking up in the middle of the night)

Foley Catheter (a literal balloon in your bladder with a tube running out that sits there for days at a time)

Vesicouretural Reflux (not being able to drain all the way, so piss travels back into your kidneys, which can literally kill you)

So, before you say some dumb shit that isn’t even funny, consider all the hell that people who actually pee their pants have to go through. It’s not lighthearted. There’s no humor in any of it. It would be an absolute dream if I never pee my pants again, but given how long it’s been happening, that’s not likely, so consider how someone like myself feels when they hear it. Just my two cents on the matter.

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fevie168 · 6 years

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Monday (February 25): "All things are possible to him who believes"

Scripture: Mark 9:14-29

14 And when they came to the disciples, they saw a great crowd about them, and scribes arguing with them. 15 And immediately all the crowd, when they saw him, were greatly amazed, and ran up to him and greeted him. 16 And he asked them, "What are you discussing with them?" 17 And one of the crowd answered him, "Teacher, I brought my son to you, for he has a dumb spirit; 18 and wherever it seizes him, it dashes him down; and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid; and I asked your disciples to cast it out, and they were not able." 19 And he answered them, "O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him to me." 20 And they brought the boy to him; and when the spirit saw him, immediately it convulsed the boy, and he fell on the ground and rolled about, foaming at the mouth.

21 And Jesus asked his father, "How long has he had this?" And he said, "From childhood. 22 And it has often cast him into the fire and into the water, to destroy him; but if you can do anything, have pity on us and help us." 23 And Jesus said to him, "If you can! All things are possible to him who believes." 24 Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, "I believe; help my unbelief!" 25 And when Jesus saw that a crowd came running together, he rebuked the unclean spirit, saying to it, "You dumb and deaf spirit, I command you, come out of him, and never enter him again." 26 And after crying out and convulsing him terribly, it came out, and the boy was like a corpse; so that most of them said, "He is dead." 27 But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up, and he arose. 28 And when he had entered the house, his disciples asked him privately, "Why could we not cast it out?" 29 And he said to them, "This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer."

Meditation:

What kind of faith does the Lord Jesus expect of us, especially when we meet challenges and difficulties? Inevitably there will be times when each of us cause disappointment to others. In this Gospel incident the disciples of Jesus brought disappointment to a pleading father because they failed to heal his epileptic son. Jesus' response seemed stern; but it was really tempered with love and compassion. We see at once both Jesus' dismay with the disciples' lack of faith and his concern to meet the need of this troubled boy and his anguished father. Jesus recognized the weakness of the father's faith and at the same time challenged him to pray boldly with expectant faith: "All things are possible to him who believes!"

Prayer and faith go together Augustine of Hippo (354-430 AD), in his commentary on this passage, reminds us that prayer and faith go together: "Where faith fails, prayer perishes. For who prays for that in which he does not believe? ..So then in order that we may pray, let us believe, and let us pray that this same faith by which we pray may not falter." The Lord gives us his Holy Spirit that we may have the confidence and boldness we need to ask our heavenly Father for his help and grace. Do you trust in God's love and care for you and pray with expectant faith that he will give you what you need?

When Jesus rebuked the evil spirit, the boy at first seemed to get worse rather than better as he went into a fit of convulsion. Peter Chrysologus (400-450 AD), a renowned preacher and bishop of Ravena, reflects on this incident:

"Though it was the boy who fell on the ground, it was the devil in him who was in anguish. The possessed boy was merely convulsed, while the usurping spirit was being convicted by the awesome judge. The captive was detained, but the captor was punished. Through the wrenching of the human body, the punishment of the devil was made manifest."

God promises each one of us freedom from oppression, especially from the oppression of sin and the evil one who tries to rob us of faith, hope, and peace with God. The Lord Jesus invites us, as he did this boy's father, to pray with expectant faith. Do you trust in God's unfailing love and mercy?

Faith and trust in God's unfailing love and mercy The mighty works and signs which Jesus did demonstrate that the kingdom of God is present in him. These signs attest that the Father has sent him as the promised Messiah. They invite belief in Jesus as the Son of God and Savior of the world. The coming of God's kingdom means defeat of Satan's kingdom. Jesus' exorcisms anticipate his great victory over "the ruler of this world" (John 12:31). While Satan may act in the world out of hatred for God and his kingdom in Christ Jesus, and may cause grave injuries of a spiritual nature, and indirectly even of a physical nature, his power is nonetheless limited and permitted by divine providence (Romans 8:28). Jesus offers freedom from bondage to sin and Satan. There is no affliction he cannot deliver us from. Do you make full use of the protection and help he offers to those who seek him with faith and trust in his mercy?

"Lord Jesus, help my unbelief! Increase my faith and trust in your saving power. Give me confidence and perseverance, especially in prayer. And help me to bring your healing love and truth to those I meet".

Psalm 19:8-10, 14

8 The precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes; 9 the fear of the LORD is clean, enduring for ever; the ordinances of the LORD are true, and righteous altogether. 10 More to be desired are they than gold, even much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and drippings of the honeycomb. 14 Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.

Daily Quote from the early church fathers: Emerging faith seeks maturity, by Augustine of Hippo, 354-430 A.D.

"In saying, 'When the Son of Man shall come, shall he find faith upon the earth?' our Lord spoke of that faith which is fully matured, which is so seldom found on earth. The church's faith is full, for who would come here if there were no fullness of faith? And whose faith when fully matured would not move mountains (Matthew 17:20; 21:22)? Look at the apostles themselves, who would not have left all they had, trodden under foot this world's hope, and followed the Lord, if they had not had proportionally great faith. And yet if they had already experienced a completely matured faith, they would have not said to the Lord, 'Increase our faith' (Luke 17:5). Rather we find here an emerging faith, which is not yet full faith, in that father who when he had presented to the Lord his son to be cured of an evil spirit and was asked whether he believed, answered, 'Lord, I believe, help me in my unbelief' (Mark 9:24). 'Lord,' says he, 'I believe.' 'I believe': therefore there was faith; but 'help me in my unbelief': therefore there was not full faith (Hebrews 10:22)." (excerpt from SERMONS ON NEW TESTAMENT LESSONS 65)

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meenasmoon · 8 years

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Please do a fanfic of johnny being sick and then meena taking care of him like in your johnny x meena headcanons (if u dont mind that is)

OMG! I was so hoping someone would latch onto this idea because Meena is the absolute best at taking care of people when they’re sick, especially her beloved Johnny. Also Johnny on cough syrup gives me life.

Just A Little Cold

Meena was in the middle of helping her grandma make her special homemadesoup for lunch when her phone buzzed for the first time. It was her first timemaking the soup without any help so she was simultaneously nervous and excited.Deciding that she didn’t need the distraction, she ignored the insistentvibrations and continued adding ingredients to the pot.

Twenty minutes later she turned the burner down low so that the soupcould simmer and stepped back so her grandma could do a taste test. Her phonewas vibrating almost constantly now but she was too nervous about her grandmother’sinspection to worry about what was happening. She watched with bated breath asher grandma sipped the soup and considered the taste with a pensive look on herface.

“Meena this soup…” she trailed off and for a second Meena’sheart dropped to the floor in despair, under the impression that she had ruinedit, “…Is perfect!”

Meena broke out into a million watt smile and she embraced her grandmain a tight hug. Her grandma patted her back gently and reached into the pocketof her dress to pull out a faded and wrinkled recipe card. She handed it toMeena and patted her cheek lovingly.

“This is yours now.” She whispered and Meena nodded solemnlybefore giving her grandma another hug. Their moment was interrupted whenMeena’s phone began to ring. She picked it up and frowned in confusion when shesaw that it was Ash who was calling her.

“Hello?” She answered the phone as she stirred the soup.

“Meena! Thank God. Why didn’t you answer when I texted you?!”Ash sounded frantic and extremely annoyed which made Meena a little nervous.

“I’m s-sorry Ash I was cooking- I mean doing s-somethingimportant.” She stumbled over her words in an effort to appease Ash’stemper.

“Ok well I need you to come over to our apartment right now. LoverBoy is sick and he’s driving me INSANE.” She groaned and there weremuffled sounds of movement from the other side of the line. Meena lost her gripon the spoon she was using to stir the soup and all of her attention zeroed inon her phone.

“Wait what? How sick is he? Do we need to take him to thehospital?!” Her anxiety skyrocketed and she began to pace her kitchen,waiting for Ash to answer her barrage of questions.

“Calm down Meena, take deep breaths. The big baby just caught a nastycold and he keeps asking for you and then telling me not to worry you. So Idecided I don’t want to babysit him anymore and I called you.” Meena took adeep breath a released it, relief coursing through her veins like a tidal wave.She sagged against the counter when her legs decided to get wobbly as therelief washed over her.

“So…. can you come over?” Ash asked when Meena didn’t say anything inresponse to her rant.

“Yes! I mean of course I can. I’ll be over in a few minutes.” She hungup and grabbed a large container from her cupboard and began scooping herfreshly made soup into it. Once it was full she stole a few boxes of tissues, astack of random movies, and her softest blanket. After stuffing everything intoa duffle bag she opened the door to dash out to the bus stop andimmediately skidded to a halt when she was confronted with a torrent ofrain.

Without her noticing a blanket of dark grey clouds had covered theircity and were releasing their contents down at that very moment. She hurriedback inside, put on a raincoat and then grabbed her favorite umbrella. Nowfully prepared for the weather she once again exited the house and ran acrossthe street to the bus stop to wait for the weekend bus.

Twenty minutes later she arrived in front of Ash and Johnny’s apartmentbuilding. She used her spare key to get in and rushed up the stairs to thethird floor where they lived. Meena caught her breath for a second beforereaching up and knocking gently on the hard wooden surface of the door.

“Meena. Come in.” Ash growled from ‪the other side of the door and Meena cautiouslyopened the door, walking into the chaotic apartment. Ash was waiting in thekitchen where she had taken refuge from a sickly Johnny.

“How many times do we have to tell you that it’s okay for you to justcome in without knocking?” She sighed, her bad mood abating slightly at thesight of her relief. Meena shrugged and smiled, adjusting the strap of her bagon her shoulder.

“About a million more times.” she joked and Ash chuckled briefly beforejerking her thumb in the direction of the living room.

“He’s stationed in there. I’m heading to the theatre to get some songwriting done in peace.” With that she picked up her guitar case and bag andwalked out the door that Meena had just come through. Meena shook her headfondly and then tiptoed into the living room. The sight that met her eyes wasprobably the most pathetic thing that she had ever seen.

The floor was littered with used tissues and empty tissue boxes andthe TV was showing a rerun of Friends that they had both seen atleast a million times. The couch had been turned into a nest made up ofevery blanket that they owned. In the very center, curled up in a little ballwas Johnny. His eyes were half-open and watery, his nose was red and aconstant stream of mucus was flowing out of it, his entire body was shakingwith the intense shivers that ran up and down his form, and he lookedcompletely exhausted.

Meena shook her head and felt a pang of sympathy run through her chestwhen she saw the state that he was in. She set down her bag and began unloadingher supplies, preparing herself to spend the day taking care of her boyfriend.First she grabbed a garbage bag from the kitchen and began carefully placingeach dirty tissue into it. Once the room was cleaned she tied off the trash bagand grabbed a new one for future tissues. When she opened the bag she startledJohnny awake and he stared at her in surprise, finally registering that she wasthere.

“Meena? Wot ‘re ya doin’ ‘ere?” His nose was so stuffed up that,combined with his accent, he was barely understandable. Thankfully Meena wasable to pick out what he was saying through both obstacles.

“I’m here to take care of you silly.” She giggled at hisbewildered look and took the issue boxes out of the bag, placing them atstrategic places all around the room. Johnny watched her ina relative silence that was occasionally broken by his patheticsniffles. Meena then took out the soup and put it on the coffee table in frontof Johnny. She put the first movie of the ones that she brought into the DVDplayer and went back to where Johnny was curled up on the couch watchingher. Finally she took off her rain jacket and climbed into the blanketnest he had created, her fluffiest blanket in tow.

“Ya kna ya daan’t ‘ave ter do this.” He mumbled even as he cuddled intoMeena, allowing her to position him so that he was lying with his head in herlap and hi body under her fluffy, pleasantly warm blanket.

“Shhh.” She hushed his protests and began lovingly stroking his hair inthe most soothing way. He immediately melted into her touch and cuddled up toher as close as he could, absorbing her warmth.

On the screen the opening scene of ‪The Wedding Date began playing and their eyes quickly became glued to the screen.Romance movies were something that Johnny would only watch with Meena when hewas sick. It was his way of giving her a reason to watch them with him whilealso giving himself an excuse to fall asleep mid-movie. There was always arunning commentary between them and this instance was no different.

“This whole weddin’ is a shit sha.” He scoffed as the drama began tounfold onscreen. Meena gasped in shock and just shook her head as she watchedthe surprising scene that was happening onscreen.

“What a twist.” She murmured and she could almost feel Johnny rollinghis eyes from his position in her lap but he remained silent. When the moviewas over Johnny sat up slowly and eyed the tub of soup that she had broughthim. It had been innocently sitting on the coffee table waiting to be noticed.

“Wot’s that?” he sniffled and Meena wordlessly got up and went to thekitchen to grab bowls and spoons. She served out the soup into the bowls andthen sat down, waiting for Johnny to try his with a nervous smile on her face.Her grandma had liked it but that didn’t mean that Johnny would like it to.

Contrary to her fears, Johnny’s face lit up as soon as he swallowed hisfirst spoonful. He devoured two bowls of soup before he was satisfied and begancurling back up on the couch. Meena got up, a proud grin on her face, andwashed their dishes quickly. When she returned to the couch Johnny hadcompletely stolen her fluffy blanket and was looking up at her with his bestinnocent look. Meena rolled her eyes and settled back on the couch, deciding togive him her best pouting look so she could reclaim at least some of herblanket. Johnny immediately caved and shifted the blanket so that they were bothcomfortably cuddled underneath it.

“That was amazin’ Meena.” He murmured, his voice scratchy and heavilystuffed. Even as sick as he was he would never miss an opportunity tocompliment Meena. She blushed and kissed his cheek ever so gently. His eyesclosed and he smiled in appreciation then cuddled up to her, trying to getcomfortable.

“Thanks Johnny.” She said softly as she adjusted the blanket to

Once they had settled in and Johnny was once more in a position whereMeena could stroke his hair Meena started their next movie, The Proposal.Johnny seemed more awake throughout this movie since it was more of a comedyand catered towards men as well as women. Despite his own interest in the moviehe was starting to doe when the movie ended. Meena was using some of thetissues that she brought over to dab her eyes. The end of the movie had finallygotten to her and a few tears had broken through.

When she got up to change the movie Johnny just plopped his head down onthe couch and watched her while coughs wracked his body. Meena froze andwatched him with concern. When he calmed down she went to the bathroom andgrabbed a bottle of Nyquil to give him. She had to wrestle with him for aminute before she finally got the bitter liquid down his throat. He gagged andlooked at her with pure betrayal in his brown eyes but Meena just kissed hiswarm forehead in response and went to finish changing out the DVD.

When she came back she settled into a new position where she wasreclining and his head was laying in her lap. As the opening credits of 27Dresses rolled across the screen he turned his head to look up at her, noteven pretending to watch the movie.

“I’m prolly gonna fall asleep na.” He whispered and mustered up whatlittle energy he had to give her a wink. Meena giggled and stroked his facelovingly, an affectionate smile gracing her face. The medicine was taking itseffect, making him sleepy and a little bit loopy.

“I think that’s a good idea.” She whispered back as if they were tellingeach other secrets in the empty apartment.

“Yer beautiful.” He whispered again, his lopsided smirk looking a littlebit out of place with his red eyes and runny nose. Even though he definitelylooked sick, Meena couldn’t resist his charms and her face immediately turnedbright red.

“I think it’s time fro you to go to sleep.” She breathed out and giggledwhen he let out a huge yawn in response, “I think that decides it. Go to sleepsweetie.” She massaged his aching head with her strong hands and he closed hiseyes in happiness. Just when she thought he had gone to sleep his eyes shotback open and he stared gratefully up at her.

“Thanks for takin’ care of me love. You’re the bloody best girlfriend inthe whole world.” Meena giggled when he threw up his hands to emphasize hispoint, waving them around wildly. She grabbed them in her own hands and broughtthem up so that she could kiss each finger before setting them back down in acomfortable position for him to sleep in.

“You’re welcome Johnny. Now sleep. For me?” Johnny nodded solemnly as ifshe had given him a secret mission and settled down, closing his eyes ever soslowly.

“For ya.” He whispered as he dozed off and fell into a healing sleep.Meena watched most of the movie but without Johnny to occupy her the call ofsleep rung in her head. Just as the movie was coming to a climax she zonkedout, her hand in Johnny’s hair and head lolling to the side.

When Ash came home hours later, the TV was replaying 27Dresses for the third time and her two friends were sleepingpeacefully on the couch. She stole a bowl of soup for herself and headed to herroom to quarantine herself. It was a good thing Johnny had Meena to take careof him because if it had been up to Ash he would be locked in his room andquarantined until he was healthy again.

“Men are such babies.” she growled to herself and strummed her guitar,“It’s just a little cold.”

#sing the movie #johnny sing #meena sing #meena x johnny #fanfiction #give me prompts #just a little cold

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fevie168 · 8 years

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Monday (February 20): "All things are possible to him who believes"

Scripture: Mark 9:14-29

Meditation:

What kind of faith does the Lord Jesus expect of us, especially when we meet challenges and difficulties? Inevitably there will be times when each of us cause disappointment to others. In this Gospel incident the disciples of Jesus brought disappointment to a pleading father because they failed to heal his epileptic son. Jesus' response seemed stern; but it was really tempered with love and compassion. We see at once both Jesus' dismay with the disciples' lack of faith and his concern to meet the need of this troubled boy and his anguished father. Jesus recognized the weakness of the father’s faith and at the same time challenged him to pray boldly with expectant faith: "All things are possible to him who believes!"

God promises each one of us freedom from oppression, especially from the oppression of sin and the evil one who tries to rob us of faith, hope, and peace with God. The Lord Jesus invites us, as he did this boy’s father, to pray with expectant faith. Do you trust in God’s unfailing love and mercy?

Psalm 19:8-10, 14

Daily Quote from the early church fathers: Emerging faith seeks maturity, by Augustine of Hippo, 354-430 A.D.

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