#this is one of those book passages that's gonna stay with me

[blueboyluca]

“Dogs are not stubborn, spiteful, or withholding. They either haven’t been adequately taught and the behavior sufficiently proofed, or they have not been motivated to act. There are no other options.

In a related development, training in the scientific manner also requires that massive and personally challenging thing called a paradigm shift (with apologies for resorting to a cliché, but it is the only shoe that fits here). One must get out from under historically weighty beliefs, which also happen to be utterly wrong, of how dogs work.

As with a bridge, though, these conceptions of dogs amount to pilings that are sunk deep, through multiple geologic layers of belief. You have to pull them out from the sucking notions of free will. And beneath that from wishful thinking. And beneath that from bedrock beliefs of what we’re all doing here in the first place.

Oh, is that all? Just change the worldview bequeathed to you by thousands of years of Western thought, and you, too, can get your dog to come when called.”

— Melissa Holbrook Pierson, The Secret History of Kindness (2015)

[evilminji]

My ONGOING "SI-OC Ponderings that my Muse is haunting me with but I may never get around to write" Series!

Because, fuck it, might as well. Maybe it will inspire somebody?

Jedi Youngling! Staring down that double barrel Order 66! FUCK.

Now, see, they don't blame the Clones. They don't even blame the Jedi. Whole lot of "victims of circumstance and our Wrong Place Wrong Time environment" going on. But? Are they gonna lay down and take it? Fffffuck no!

They JUST got this body!

Also?

THESE ARE BABIES.

They, An ADULT, have a god damned MORAL OBLIGATION to save as many of this itty bitty alien babies as they can. They warn the adults, obviously. But they FULLY expect? And are unsurprised? When they DON'T LISTEN.

There is a Force Damned PRECEDENT for that. (May you finally rest in peace now, Master Sifo-Dyas.)

The younglings though? THEY didn't get to make a choice. THEY are innocents. And as the only ADULT with knowledge of what's to come? It's HER moral, ethical, and Force given obligation to PROTECT them until they can do so themselves.

As a Jedi... she has to PICK.

Try to save the adults? Those who willfully chose ignorance AND have the ability to defend themselves? To fight and flee under their own power? Or... save the younglings, the infants and babies. Those whose ignorance is that of the young and still learning? Who CAN NOT fight. Can Not run?

It's no choice at all. And if they truely understood? She can only hope they would command her to do EXACTLY as she is doing. Would demand no less. Consider it UNTHINKABLE to ever choose them.

She searches out the hidden passages. Practices lifting things instead of sword stances. She will need to carry so much. Move so quickly. She KNOWS where the attack will come from... Force willing, if she plans well? The Creches will be EMPTY by the time the soilders arrive.

But for that? She must steal. Redirect. Take things from where they should be. It is easier then it should be. First because no expects true mischief from a child, then? Because a war has begun.

Restriction Bolts of the Temple droids and a simple explanation is enough to gain their assistance. It's illogical not to have a plan, even if you never use it. And through them? "Liberated" data jewels. Already plumbed for all the information they're good for. High end, too.

Perfect.

She wipes them all. Fashion's a belt that, one day, Force willing she might wear as a necklace. Then sets to work coping EVERYTHING about the Jedi. When the temple is lost? Their history should not be.

So long as this string of jewels alone survives.

The Jedi are remembered. Luke with not have to start over from half memories and hearsay. They can learn from the past AND still have it. She puts diaries, prophecies, books the jedi wrote for fun. Various Force sects both past and still alive. Teaching methods. Anything. Everything.

A time capsule.

It HAS to be enough.

She fears it's not. Sneaks into the hall of retired Sabers. Sits. And opens her mind to them all. Please. Please! She knows. She's so, SO sorry. You were done. You EARNED your rest. She would not ask this if youngling were not on the line. If Illum might not become to dangerous to travel too.

....if she did not fear what would become of you, should you stay.

The Sith is coming. He WILL take the temple.

Will you come with me now?

Some do, some promise to die, and die VICIOUS. Swear to blow to deadly shrapnel in the hands of any who dare come for them. Others leave their casings. Willing to come, but not as they were. She apologizes for the indignity, as she stuffs them all in the hidden paths.

Honestly? They muse. They've seen worse. Remember that-? WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT. HE WAS TRYING HIS BEST, OKAY?!

And all throughout? One must wonder. What do the other younglings think? That OC is strange? Mad? To be ostracized? No, of course not. She is nice. Listens when they're upset. Does not judge or make every emotion a test. Hugs come readily and her mind FEELS older. Like the Creche Master.

And? If Master YODA can be short? Why not OC? She just lives with them. The other Knights and Master's don't listen to her because she Sees things. It scares them. They SAY they do. But children know the difference, don't they? Between what you promise you'll do... and what you'll ACTUALLY do?

But see, the Creche Master's? Increasingly distracted. Preparing the eldest of their charges for WAR ZONES. It's stressful. The fact that the youngers are quiet? SHOULD raise alarm bells. They KNOW better. But they are distracted.

The ones who DO notice? Are the orphan Padawan. The older initiates. People assigned to "help out".

There aren't enough mind healers. Not enough hands to help around the Creche. It was considered a good idea. Young children are full of uncomplicated Light! Yes, Yoda. They are. But as with Obi-Wan, so too with the Crechelings? Children are NOT here to mend the hurts of their elders. That is NOT their purpose.

They are exposing the youngers to Fear and Grief. Broken bonds and the echos of war. This is NOT good for young force sensitives.

Yet... are THEY not young Force Sensitives? Children too? OC knows they are. And it is a bitterness on her tounge. She does what she can. Because SHE is and adult. They notice too. How can they not? The other children turn to her, she guides them through their day. She gives "projects" and listens to concerns. Walks everyone through meditation.

......runs everyone through the Evacuation Plan? WHAT Evacuation Plan?

Oh.

It... it helps. Having something they are PART of. Doing TOGETHER. Something to combat the growing, creeping, darkness that is not violence and death. This? This is planning. Preparation. It... it feels like have some sense of control again, after everything has become senseless and OUT of control. Yet? It is not DARK. Not seeking to force control on others.

It is just... quietly stepping back.

One foot, then another. Calmly and with grief. Letting go, knowing you have tried, as you leave those who have made their choices to the fates they chose. Silently slipping out the door before the building begins to burn. Just as you warned them. Just as they refused to hear.

It's okay to grieve.

Even those who are still alive.

Of course, Shadows ARE supposed to notice unusual movements. Spies and Falling are a concern. Heeey, little youngling! How's things? Just swinging byyyy~☆ soft interrogation tactics~! Gonna admit to any of the Blatant Theft?

Yes, actually. Good you are here. Saves OC the trouble of trying to figure out who is and isn't a Shadow. Kinda convenient, Master Vos, that it's you. What's the fastest set of ships you could stash at the exit to this and THIS hidden path? By this date?

He's sorry, what?

You heard her.

Tiny youngling, unflinching, staring him down and asking for ships like that's a thing she has any right to do? Why? Well... that depends. Are you actually going to listen, Master Vos, or do you want an answer that will comfort you?

Excuse me.

Do you remember? Master Vos, the suffering of Sifo-Dyas? A temple full of Jedi, a seat upon it's council, yet not a single soul would hear him. Would truely listen. How many Knights? How many Masters? Tell me, Master Vos, exactly how many have DIED for willful ignorance and attachment to peaceful days?

There could not POSSIBLY be Sith. So we will not train or prepare. There can not POSSIBLY be a war, Sifo-Dyas, so be consumed by your fear alone. Die, alone. Let Padawan and peacekeepers be Generals. Because what the Force has shown you? It is happening today.

So we refuse to see it. Cling to the present, Master Vos.

Isn't it so COMFORTING here?

You don't have to know what might be. Don't have to ACT. Can be blind and choose ignorance.

A vision then? He surely concludes. For he is no fool. And the Youngling just looks tired. Eats their meal. Answer the question, Master Vos. Do you remember? Was Master Kenobi's suffering also ignored? How well did that work out. Will you LISTEN or have you already come to your conclusions, and now simply seek information to support them?

....he wants to. He does. But you're like, four.

OC nods. Fair. She can see the genuine conflict on his face. He HEARD her. But can not let go of what his eyes tell him. The Force is too muddled here. She too, would have a hard time trusting a small child with something so serious. But.... she can not change her path. And neither can he.

May the Force Be With You, Master Vos.

Plan Besh it is.

She is a small adorable child. The Coruscant gaurd are overworked and filled with spite. Who wants caff and bribery~? Do they clock her immediately? Yes. Is this hilarious. Also yes. Who did you kill, small child? We promise not to be mad.

No one, yet. Could change. She would prefere it not. But who knows. Anyway~☆! Do any of YOU caff loving (here have a refill) gentleman happen to know of any asshole Goverment Officals with REALLY fast ships that run primarily of droid piloting? With potentially easily disabled trackers? Not that she, a small child, would be DOING anything with this information!

It's just neat information to know! *innocent blinking of innocence*

Uh huh. And they were decanted yesterday.

That SAID.... they have a list. Oh noooo! They dropped the list! So much effort to pick it up. Hey, kid, could pick that up and definitely not steal it for us? Good baby Jedi. Thanks for the Caff. Tell Vos to stop haunting the lower levels. It's OUR job to hunt criminals for sport, not his.

Yes, sir o7

Of she goes? To the Senatorial Garage. It's mostly droids. Of LOOK! I have this handy little tool! Pop. Pop, pop, pop~! Hey? Wanna fuck over the asshole who doesn't appreciate you, steal this ship, AND save the lives of small children?

BOY WOULD THEY! Says local every droid in the Ship pool.

Great! Just figure out where the trackers are, how to turn them off, and when it's time? Meet a one of these locations for pick up. We're gonna NEED you. Like... actually NEED. Not "I'm throwing my money around on the latest and greatest then not USING THEM FOR ANYTHING" supposedly need. You'll have SO MUCH WORK.

(They're gonna cry in Binary. Omg? Fuckin FINALLY???)

And so... inevitably. The clock ticks down. The drama of adults ramps up. They smuggle a few clone troopers through surgery. Try to warn the others. Know it won't be enough. The momentum is too great. The gears of War will grind over everything.

Like a forest fire... the old has to burn away for new growth.

But like hell is she letting that come at the cost of tiny bodies. Clones trapped in their minds forced to fire upon children. There will be enough horrors this day. This can be on less. They WILL be ready. And... they are.

She sees the council running out. Knows what it means. And she does NOT hesitate. Her signal goes out. Her Padawan helpers dropping everything to BOLT for the Creche and the go bags stored there. They are followed by friends. Who do not understand, but trust them. Who's Master's do not understand, but assume this is some plan they were not told off.

It certainly seems so, when in the distance? They hear the temple gaurds fighting to hold the line. Hear blasterfire. They race down the hidden paths. Are met with droids, loading up food and medicine, leave as soon as each ship has the assigned numbers. Again and again. Senatorial chips mean instant pass into space. Important business, you understand.

The droids will follow, with everything. Including what was nailed down. Probably the nails too.

Might steal the hammers while they're at it.

Next stop? Wild Space.

Explorcorps newest finds. FRESHLY deleted. All points warning already being sent. A Fuck You Very MUCH, Sith-y Pants. You'll not be getting ANY of the Corps workers if THEY can help it. And hey... the Masters and a few knights were a pleasant suprise. Them and their squad of rescue troopers? Almost make enough adults to take care of everybody!

Now all they have to do? Is hide, rebuild, and regrow.

Return when Luke has down his Luke thing.

Who knows... not her. She made a plan and she DID it. Some one else can decide for a while. She's just a kid. Tell her when they get there, okay?

[littledead-ridinghood]

sorry if this is a weird question to drop on you you were just the first person I thought of who might know but do you know if it's canon/canonically-based evidence that jason is physically stronger than other bats because I always see people say jason is the one with "brute strength" and I can't remember if that's based on anything besides people saying that as a nicer way to call him a brute(maybe it was on lobdells stuff? but I wiped most of those out of my memory)

You thought of me first? <333333 I'm blushing. And it's not weird at all! Even if it was, I love answering weird shit.

Anyway:

So part of Jason being considered "the muscle" of the bats comes from the fact that Jason's currently the biggest of the robins. (Adult!Damian is usually drawn as the tallest of the kids when all is said n' done (that's vague for "age")).

Well, how big then?

I always go with this chart which was released while UtRH was being released:

(I Love this! I wish DC still did little info things like this within their comics. Or maybe they do and I'm just blind. But Look! Canonical Information!)

So canonically speaking, at least when running around pre-crisis, Jason is 6 feet tall and 180 pounds. (Also note criminal mastermind and put a pin in it)

But you've probably heard 200 & 220 thrown around a lot. Those numbers are specifically pulled from two different DC character encyclopedia books which I don't trust at all because there notoriously filled with false information and are dubbed as not canon all the time.

Personally, I use the 6', 180-195 pound range which estimates for fluctuating weight, the passage of time, muscle mass, and minimum bulk & cutting (which I assume is part of most superheroes' training to stay in fighting form, but please recognize that vigilantes are more athlete than bodybuilder) because it's from a canon source (Canon is "king" and all that). No shame to people who use the other numbers or even headcanon something completely different, but again, vigilantes are predominantly running all over cities day after day, not stagnant weight lifters. Cardio vs weights body compositions are quite different even if both are healthy. (And it's not all "swimmer's body illusion" either (they have that body because they swim? No, they swim because they have that body.)

How much muscle mass a person can maximally obtain is up to your genetics. But that max only comes with constant maintainment. It's not feasible for Jason to be doing all that cardio and also have that much muscle mass and fat. Cardio burns "fat" (calories), weights build muscle. We constantly see the former and former-adjacent workouts more than the latter with him. Jason is running across rooftops, flipping off them before falling into a shoulder roll onto the next roof over chasing after bad guys every night. The number of calories he'd have to eat and time put into lifting weights (too many reps a week lead to damage, not growth) to maintain his max (max being what a lot of weights category athletes try to achieve which Jason just hasn't been shown to be (except in his jailbird phase where he could literally only lift weights, read, and avoid being killed to pass the time)) isn't possible.

Using comic art to "prove" how much he weighs doesn't work either. Firstly, because everyone wears weight differently. Two people can be the same height, weight, and sex and look completely different. This is due to different body types, composition, genetics, diet, (what kind of) exercise, and many other factors. Assuming someone thinner is automatically "super light" doesn't factor in different body compositions (fat, muscle, bone percentages). (yes, I know it's stupid to apply science to comics. There's my digression. let me live). Secondly, Jason (just like everything else about him) isn't drawn consistently at all. Sometimes he's pretty damn massive, but we also have Twink and Twunk Jason (DC can't even decide on hair color? Do you think they're gonna decide on his body?).

So, comic book art isn't super reliable as evidence unless we want to theorize if, how, and why he seems to fluctuate between weights all the time (<- Which I have a whole headcanon about if anyone's curious), especially in comparison to the others because, seriously, it's totally a Jason thing. Most characters are pretty consistent in body type. Anyway, someone could argue "See! he is 210!" but it's also not for a long enough period to stick around :/ Again, hard to consistently maintain that much weight as a 6-foot-tall, cardio-based athlete.

Also note: DC is horrible when it comes to weight-to-height lineups. A woman hero can be ~5'7'' and then we're told she's 110 lbs which Fact 1. is considered underweight for this kind of height-to-sex ratio, Fact 2. probably isn't factoring in the fact that muscle is heavier than fat, she just "looks thin", and 3. Usually, totally, absolutely is just blatant sexism.

Really, the numbers don't seriously mean anything of actual substance because their comics, are unreliable, and also usually just...scientifically wrong. But Jason's perception on page, as well as the information we've been told, is one reason he's considered "brute strength first and foremost."

Furthermore, Jason has been shown repeatedly to be on par with Bruce (even when Jason, most of the time, plays defense in their physical fights) but many people chalk this up to him and Bruce having similar physiques making it "easier". Again, counter-productive argument because Bruce and Jason have been drawn very similarly before in stories as well as completely different from each other in others. Also, this purposefully, blatantly ignores Jason's actual skills. No one chalks Dick Grayson or Cassandra Cain beating Bruce up to their body types. Moreover, when Bruce and Jason are drawn similarly in body, no one refers to Bruce as "Brute Strength" either. Bruce gets to be tactical, strategic, clever. (Also Also: In Pre-Crisis, Bruce, Dick, and Jason are deliberately drawn to look similar (height, mass, looks, etc.) to get that Brothers in Blood effect. Still, No one chalks the formers up to all strength. Just Jason)

And that brings us to your question, Anon: Is there canonical evidence for Jason being stronger than the other Bats?

Remember how I told you to put a pin in that "Occupation: Criminal Mastermind" note? Well, first off, Jason creating jobs for his community. Go off, king. Second off, and more importantly so, "Mastermind": a person who supplies the directing or creative intelligence for a project (Merriam-Webster).

When Jason was first re-introduced, what made Jason dangerous was that he was highly skilled and smart. He was playing with both Black Mask and Batman like a cat batting a toy mouse. He orchestrated an entire "slow-growing" takeover of Gotham's underworld (he was actually very quick about it). Jason controlled the situation and planned so well that he had the villains and heroes who were both after him fighting each other so he could slip away and do what he actually needed to do.

Throughout Jason's history, he's always had tools with him when he fights. To the point that Bruce says to Jaybin "You won't always have this" cutting his utility belt, insinuating he relies too much on it, which Jason returns the favor to on his return and fights B hand to hand <3 Love a cocky callback. Furthering this, he knows many, many different fighting styles and techniques both from life experience and from extensive training. Jason's a quick learner by nature and is incredibly adaptive. Guns; knives; swords; pens; sets bombs to specifically implode, not explode; makeshift gadgets; a baseball bat just laying around; a tire jack that one time; brains. I could go on. Jason doesn't just hit things. He uses what he has as a means to an end. He's canonically known as one of the best strategists in-universe and is incredibly creative with his surroundings. Jason isn't just great at extensive, long-term planning either. Bruce himself has remarked on the fact that Jason thinks incredibly quickly on his feet, he's really good at improvisation. Concisely, he has plans A-G and if all those fail, he can pull something out of nothing. Contrast this with Bruce who needs to have a plan for everything. Even if it doesn't look like he's following a plan, Bruce is. Opposed to Jason who can go with the flow and figure it out along the way.

Jason even said this in present-era in TFZ:

And that's the whole point, isn't it? Jason is strong. Incredibly so. He's big and tall and has gorgeous thighs. Not to mention, has a mean right hook. But just because Jason's strong doesn't mean he isn't a bat first and foremost who relies on his brain before anything else. He died 4'6 (on his death certificate, his height varies depending on what source you pull) and famously had to defend himself his entire life ever before being Robin. Being young and small and forced to survive shaped Jason into a quick thinker who could either get away or take enemies 10x his size down. Nowadays, he just has a longer reach.

In Event Levithan when Damian says: "Jason Todd is one of the Great Master fighters of all time" He doesn't say strongest because Damian doesn't mean strongest. Damian means adaptable, smart, capable, and well-rounded in skill.

While I don't doubt that Jason is most definitely one of the strongest Bats due to his size, what makes Jason dangerous is not his body, but the fact that he knows how to use it. It's not "Brute Strength" as many people like to say, it's Strategic Strength. He knows just because he's stronger than someone doesn't mean he'll always win. A la see panels above. Jason knows throwing his body around won't do anything of real, long-term substance. That it's just blindsided and stupid.

I'm sure if I looked I could pull panels where other bats and/or vigilantes refer to Jason as the muscle, brute (strength), all brawn (no brain), other such implications, etc, but whenever people do, it's always to undermine Jason's skill. Because it's not actually about his strength. Jason, with his taller, more built form, makes walking quiet seem easy. And it looks easy because he's good. Jason himself knows his skill set, it's everyone else that undermines him time and time and time again. (Again, Event Levithan, Bruce doesn't agree with Damian's statement even though Jason just outsmarted the six or so people who all just tried to take him down (for something Jason didn't even do, mind you))

But, again from Damian, Jason's not known as "the muscle," he's "the emotional one" also usually used to...degrade Ja--We can't have anything nice apparently is what I'm saying. But yes, when people refer to Jason as "Brute Strength" it's usually them trying to find a nicer way of saying Brute or "thinks with his fists" or "Jason hits first, asks questions later." It's in the same vein as when people say "Jason likes books" as short-hand for "see, he's smart at something" rather than acknowledging that Jason achieved a degree's worth of knowledge in comp-sci by age 13.

Anyway Smart and Strong Jason, my beloved. I wish DC & others loved you as much as Rosenburg and the teams of artists he's been working with do.

[azfellandco]

OOPS! All Goats!: azfellandco's Good Omens Mountain Goats Playlist (spotify link here)

This is a playlist that's all Mountain Goats songs that remind me of Good Omens, with explanations.

Rain In Soho (x): nothing sharper than a serpent's tooth / nothing harder than the gospel truth / though you repent and don sackcloth and try to make nice / you can't cross the same river twice

Soho, serpent's tooth, can't cross the same river... this song to me conjures up Crowley driving the Bentley through London at night.

Rat Queen (x): great warm throb of the undercity / at one with the purpose / i am a faceless nameless acolyte / here tonight at your service

Crowley & Crowley's Rat Army... Crowley is the rat queen. this song choice is so unserious but I love the use of the word "acolyte" in this song

Heretic Pride (x): well they come and pull me from my house / and they drag my body through the streets... transfiguration's gonna come for me at last / and i will burn hotter than the sun / i waited so long and now i taste jasmine on my tongue

I've been meaning to make a video or a gifset or something for Agnes Nutter using this song literally since before s1 came out. have i done it yet? no.

Heel Turn 2 (x): get stomped like a snake / lie down in the dirt / cling to my convictions / even when i get hurt... stay good under pressure / for years and years and years and years

Crowley song.

Stench of the Unburied (x): incoherent but functional / speeding like a dead comet... but when the blue lights flash / i know we're going to crash

A Crowley driving in the Bentley song.

Cry For Judas (x): some people crash two or three times / and then learn from their mistakes / but we are the ones who don't slow down at all / and there's nobody there to catch us when we fall

Also a Crowley driving in the Bentley song, with bonus biblical era trauma.

Insurance Fraud #2 (x): big plans, big plans, let me tell you something sister: you will never get away with it

This is on here because I will never get over how funny I find it that book!Aziraphale keeps getting investigated for possible tax fraud.

Mark On You (x): when this is over / when we leave it all behind us / deep in the moonless night / when the rescue team finds us / it's gonna get so dark for you / i'm gonna leave a mark on you

Crowley to Aziraphale.

Riches and Wonders (x): we live high, our loves gorges / on the alcohol we feed it / and it grows all fat and friendly / we have surplus if we need it

This is the Mountain Goats Good Omens song to me. Aziraphale and Crowley in the bookshop, their love for each other, and clinging to each other through the ages.

Mobile (x): and the plant grew but it withered / it shriveled up and turned brown / i'm on a balcony... waiting for the wind to throw me down / lord if you won't keep me safe and warm / then send down the storm, send down the storm

Loss of faith. Aziraphale song.

Elijah (x): set the table, those three extra places / one for me, one for your doubts, one for God

Aziraphale song.

Grendel's Mother (x): i look down on the world from the top of this lonesome hill / and you can run, run some more... but i will carry you home in my teeth

Aziraphale to Crowley.

Ending the Alphabet (x): we've got the brightest skylight / like a vision of heaven in the evening sky... and the late sunlight makes them all look like angels / what is there left in a city like this / when everyone you know is gone?

London, the bookshop, and the impossibility of permanence when you're a pair of immortals trying to make a home for each other.

Deuteronomy 2:10 (x): i have no fear of anyone, i'm dumb and wild and free / i am a flightless bird and they'll be no more after me

About extinct animals, titled after a biblical passage about an extinct race of people. This song has always resonated with that same impossibility of permanence and the contradiction between that and Aziraphale and Crowley's love for the world and being in it.

Never Quite Free (x): it's okay to find the faith to saunter forward / with no fear of shadows spreading where you stand

Saunter hehehe. But no this is about Crowley's trauma.

New Britain (x): i try to tell you secrets 'til my face turns blue / i am not getting through to you

Aziraphale and Crowley can't communicate openly.

So Desperate (x): we were parked in your car / in our neutral meeting place... i had things i'd been meaning to say

This goes with that passage in the book where, during the years they were observing Warlock, Aziraphale and Crowley met "on the tops of buses, in art galleries, and at concerts" to me. Them meeting covertly but this time they're parked in the Bentley somewhere and one of them just starts to cry. "Desperate" is an apt description of their reaching for each other after so many years of not being able to, to me.

In the Craters on the Moon (x): when the room fills with smoke / lie down on the floor / in the declining years / of the long war

The 6000 year long war, in fact. Crowley in the burning bookshop.

Have To Explode (x): the stage is set / someone's gonna do something someone else will regret / i speak in smoke signals and you answer in code / the fuse will have to run out sometime / something here will eventually have to explode, have to explode

Aziraphale and Crowley being unable to communicate openly, speaking in code, the anticipation of the apocalypse, and always, the knowledge that the coming end is inevitable. A song for those low moments when they feel it's pointless.

Training Montage (x): i'm doing this for revenge / i am doing this to try and stay true / i'm doing this for the ones they left to twist in the wind / i'm doing this for you

"twist in the wind" echoing back to "send down the storm" in the song Moblie. Aziraphale and Crowley wanting to save each other and save their shared world and the way that makes them brave.

Love, Love, Love (x): snakes in the grass beneath our feet / rain in the clouds above / some moments last forever / but some flare out with love, love, love

The other ultimate Mountain Goats Good Omens song. This is that first rain in Eden.

[insomniamamma]

Gravity: Ezra x f!reader

A/n: Written for my year of kisses. @yearofcreation2023 The prompt is a kiss on the eyelids, and I originally intended to write it for Boba Fett (which I may still do) but then I rewatched Prospect and gave myself the yearns. Title inspired by this song. This jumps around in time.

Warnings: Much flirting and fluff. Reader has unspecified medical condition that keeps her from going to space. Ezra needs his own warning. Medical treatment. References to sickness and medical procedures. References to sex but nothing explicit.

Ezra hums contentedly beneath your hands. Shirtless and tilted backwards over the deep sink, towel draped around his sun-freckled shoulders. He positively purrs as you smooth the conditioner through his curls, scratching lightly over his scalp, tugging, but just a little. Real shampoo and conditioner are an imported nicety, expensive and not often used. Seems a shame to so thoroughly clean his hair only to shear so much of it off.

Long hair is a pain in the ass when you’re doing suit work, a pain in the ass in microgravity. You can tie it back but if it comes lose, you have random threads sweat-plastered to your face or tickling your nose or nape or eyebrow without being able to fix it. You don’t know this from your own experience. Born sickly, you could not follow your brothers off world, never as strong as them, failed the g-tests and the orientation tests and the flight instructor took you aside, look, you get the right combo of meds and cautery and you might be able to work a tug or a yard-switcher up to the Bench, but you’re not gonna get out of this well.

So you stayed. Da long gone, died way out towards the end of the Great Arm. And your brothers faded out of your life one by one by one. Once in a while you’d get packet drops, grainy vids squirted between can-haulers and freighters, a game of telephone that stretched the length of the Great Arm, but those became less and less. Even after contact waned, the points would still accrue in the family account, remittance from Kevva knows where. Until they didn’t. Faded out of your lives like comets flaring bright before slinging out into the black. You stayed behind and made due.

Learned the herbalist’s trade from your Ma who learned it from her Ma as far back as your first kin who colonized here, who built the house you live in now, who planted the gardens that provide food and medicines. Leaves and flowers and roots all diagrammed out, with their varied dangers and uses recipes for salves and tinctures and dyes, soaps, meticulously drawn and copied out from Ma’s book into one that you stitched and bound yourself. A right of passage of sorts, preserve what’s come before and add your own knowledge. The last few entries of your Ma’s book near illegible, from when the Wandering Sickness took her ability to write, a hash of Central glyph-speak and her own short-hand.

Ma had been gone for about a year when you met Ezra, or rather, when someone in town took pity on Ezra and sent him to your door. He was naked from the waist up skin blotched in swollen, crimson wheals. You shake your head. Off-worlders never learn. “I must apologize for my state of disarray,” he says, “The rubbing of my shirt seams became unbearable on my walk from town. I seem to have an allergy to the local flora.” He speaks a lilting off-world accent. One eye is red and puffed into a narrow slit, looks like he’s winking at you. “Humbleweed,” you say, “Looks like you rolled in the stuff. Come on in, spacer, lets get you fixed up.” “It’s called humbleweed because it puts people fool enough to touch it in their place?” “That’s right,” you say, leading him inside, “Wanna tell me how you got coated in it?” “Me and my crewmates are camped out along yonder lake. We were passing around a bottle of firewater and got to tussling. Not unfriendly like, but I took a bad step into some bushes. Didn’t think much of it at the time—“ “Please tell me none of you were stupid enough to throw any of that mess in a campfire.” “No, Ma’am, there was bone dry drift wood a-plenty.” “Good because the smoke would make your lungs do the same thing that’s happening with your skin, and we’d be calling for a dropper.” “That sounds most unpleasant,” he says, and you gesture towards the large, hammered metal tub. “Strip,” you say, “And hop in.” You say, fetching a rusty metal canister and a scrub brush from the shelf. You pull on some disposable gloves. An imported nicety, but you don’t want humbleweed resin getting under your own nails. “Ezra.” “What?” “My name is Ezra, and I’d like to know yours before you see my nether regions.” You laugh. This big, swaggering spacer with his odd, archaic way of speaking is shy. Damned if you don’t see his ears and cheeks going red. You tell him your name and rest a gloved hand on his upper arm. “You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen, okay? Unless they build men different further down the Arm. Give me your clothes. We’ll need to treat and wash them too.” Ezra reluctantly peels down. The worst of the rash is on his upper half, but there’s a particularly nasty line of welts around his waist, snaking down along the soft swell of his belly, telltale lines where he scratched at it in his sleep, got the sap under his nails and dragged it around, unthinking. He stands stone still while you run your gloved hands over him, checking places he wouldn’t think to check himself, armpits and the soles of his feet and juncture of hip and thigh, squirms under your touch. “I’m sorry—“ he says, red faced— “No need,” you say, “I once treated a man who was fool enough to wipe his ass with the leaves. He waited until it all blistered up to get help—“ You push the metal canister and scrub brush into his hands. “You sluice this over the red patches and scrub, clear? It’ll sting some—“ “This smells like engine degreaser.” “It is engine degreaser,” you say, “But it’ll do the job. Let me get your face though. Don’t want you getting this in your eyes. Get what you can reach and I’ll take care of your clothes, yeah?” His clothing goes in the deep sink, warm water and a generous pour of degreaser. You can’t help but look at him, his back to you, all broad freckled shoulders and red, puckered scars, tells of a spacer’s life, trying to reach over the curve of his own spine with the scrub brush. “Miss? Ma’am? I can’t quite—“ You find yourself smiling, take the scrub brush and canister from him, pour a cold rill down his spine and scrub, and he shudders. “Stings.” “I know.”

He flinches when you bring the degreaser soaked cloth to his face, draws back, his eye a puffed red slit leaking tears, his hands circle your wrists, stilling you. “Ezra. You need to let me do this.” “Perhaps this can wait for the Bench, this may be beyond what you can do here, not saying that I mistrust your skills or judgement but—“ “Look up. You see that bundle of Kind Sister? The star shaped flowers?” “Yes, but I don’t- “Look up and hold still. You keep your eyes right there.” You wipe the degreaser over the puffed skin below his eye, and you can feel the tension in him, thrumming beneath his skin. “Breathe, handsome, I’ve done this many times.” “It’s not that I don’t trust—“ “Just keep looking up.” “Burns a little.” “It will.” You dab the cloth over his skin, right up to the fringe of his lashes. “Close.” “I don’t think—“ “Don’t need you to think. Close your eyes.” He feels the chill on his eyelids and flinches away. “Sssshhhhh. Hold still. Not gonna hurt you.” He stills and lets you wipe his eyes with the degreaser, and you can’t help but admire the way his dark lashes fall against his cheeks.

“You’re unsettled.” “Maybe I don’t want to shear off these pretty curls.” You thread your fingers through his hair and raise the scissors to start cutting, but his hand curves around your wrist. “You’ve not been this unsettled before,” says Ezra, “Talk to me Gentle, tell me what’s bothering you.” And you can’t help but smile, his nickname for you always manages to make your chest tighten, someplace between swelling love and crippling fear, presses his lips to the soft skin of your wrist where the veins rest so close. “You’re going so far this time, and you know I can’t go after you if things go wrong—“ “The risk is greater, but the reward is….” he trails off, fingers tracing the landscape of your knuckles. Ezra has words for everything, three words when one will do, and to hear him go silent, to see him search for words feels wrong, like you’re witnessing something you shouldn’t. He draws inward for a beat and then those dark eyes find yours. “The reward is such that I could stop my rambling ways. If we find what we suspect is there.” “You’re saying you’ll stay.” “I am.” The shiny scissors in your hand tremble, sending little arcs of light across the rough hewn walls. “You’ll come down the well. For keeps.” “For keeps, Gentle Hands. My heart already resides here. I finish this job? You’ll have all of me. For as long as you can put up with my nonsense.” Your hands still. Dread replaced by spreading warmth. You smile. “You’d be surprised at how much of your nonsense I can tolerate.”

“Oh, Kevva,” Ezra sighs and sags against you, “You are surely one of Her kind sisters. She has given you the touch, the blessing—“ You lightly slap his cheek with a gloved hand. “Don’t you go boneless on me, handsome.” You’ve been liberally coating the red wheals and rising blisters with a salve of kind sister, sersath and bird-eye berry. This salve counters the miserable itch of humbleweed, and triggers a kind of euphoric sedation in maybe one in five people you’ve treated. “You’re having a strong reaction. It’s not dangerous. Kevva’s just smiling on you. That’s all. You’ll feel right as rain in about a sixteenth. Hey! You go limp and I will not heave your ass off this floor.” “I will gladly spend the rest of my days gazing up in admiration.” “Hmmmm. Might hold you to that, pretty spacer.” “Would give my life into your gentle hands,” “Okay. Okay, let’s get you settled,” You steer Ezra naked and greasy towards a fresh-sheeted cot you keep against one wall, just in case. He’s not the first stray to rest there a spell and surely won’t be the last. He stretches himself out like a cat lounging in a sunbeam, yawning hugely, even covered in angry red wheals and pinkish goo he’s quite the sight. Pretty man, you think, too bad I’ll probably never see him again. “y’can look all you want, Gentle Hands,” he mumbles, and you feel your face go hot, “I don’t- I don’t mind.” “Here,” you say, pulling the top sheet up to his chest, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean--“ His hand finds yours, warm and enfolding. “Gentle Hands,” he says, but his eyes are already closed, his holding hand already letting go, dropping away from yours, arm dangling stiffly off the edge of the cot, “Kind heart.” And you know it’s the salve, maybe you’ve got the proportions wrong, the strength of the bird-eye berry varies depending on where it’s picked. Have to pay more attention next time, or maybe this pretty spacer just reacts stronger than most for a whole slew of reasons that have nothing to do with you. Ezra snores. You smile and lay his hand over his chest so his arm doesn’t fall asleep. And then go to fetch his clothes from the deep sink so you can rinse them out.

You thread your fingers through his hair and cut like you’ve done many times before. Always makes you a little sad, seeing the curls he’s grown in his time with you piled on the floor in front of the deep sink. Ezra luxuriates under your touch, relishes the feel of your hands carding through his curls, tugging, measuring with the width of your fingers, ruffling his hair this way and that, making sure things are even. You’ve done this for your brothers and now you do it for your lover. Brush the stray bits of hair from his shoulders, letting your hands wander the breadth of him, tuck yourself into the join of his shoulder and neck and his arms come up around you, cradling you against him, the two of you swaying together. I’ll be back before you know it.

Ezra finds you in the front garden says your name and snaps you out of your reverie, the muscle-memory motions of removing errant weeds and dead leaves. You stand and wipe the dirt on your pants and turn to look at him, feel yourself grin. He’s wrapped the top sheet around himself like a toga, shuffles along the walk like a newborn calf, a bit unsteady and blinking in the bright sunlight. The swelling around his eye has already gone down significantly. “Ezra. How you feeling?” “A little tingly,” he says, “A little foggy headed, truth be told, I don’t recall dozing off. I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you-“ “You haven’t,” you walk the narrow path through the herb beds to where his clothes hang on the line. You frown. “Still damp. Come on. I think I’ve got something that might fit you. Don’t want to send you back into town with a wet ass.” You move to herd him back into the house, but he stops you, his hand curled gently around your wrist. “I, uh, I worry that I may have said something untoward,” says Ezra, “My mouth has a tendency to run along on it’s own and Kevva knows I have not experienced such gentle care in a whole heap of stand-months--“ “You flirted with me a little,” you say and feel yourself smile, he drops your wrist but you catch his hand in yours before he can pull away, “But I flirted right back.” “Did you now?” “Mmm-hmm.”

Ezra kisses you in that slow way of his, soft press of his lips to yours, his way of lingering, lips hovering over yours sharing breath between kisses, soft pecks and nuzzles, coaxing your lips apart so he can dip his tongue between them, his hands sliding warm beneath the hem of your shirt and when he breaks away so he can dip his face into the curve of your neck to nip at that tender place below your ear, you push him back, a firm hand on his chest. “No.” His brow knits, but his eyes are smiling. “No?” “Go shower off, Ezra. I don’t want all those little stray hairs in my nice clean sheets.” “Those sheets won’t be clean for long, Gentle Hands,” “Doesn’t mean I want to be all scratchy while we’re making a mess of them. Go on now.”

“This isn’t right,” you say, poking at the screen of your much repaired data-pad, “This is far more than what we agreed on.” “You’ve taken very good care of me,” says Ezra. He’s dressed in clothes your middle brother left behind, his own folded into a bundle and tucked under his arm. You reject the transaction. “I take very good care of everyone, Ezra, it’s my job.” “Still I spent a quarter cycle snoring away in your great room,” he says, “I expect most others would have roused me and sent me down the road. I wish to repay you for your kindness.” “I don’t need payment for that. Not with points anyway.” Ezra smirks, and cocks an eyebrow. “You got some other currency in mind?” “Maybe. You’re not boosting tonight are you?” “No,” he says, “We’re hopping the Magra-Tripoint line. Don’t need to hit the bench for three cycles and a little. You got something in mind, Gentle Hands?” You feel blood rise in your cheeks, something about his newly minted name for the you and the way he says it, lilt and rumble of his voice holding something that could be want, something that pulls on you, maybe a cycle or so of fun with a pretty man, but maybe something more. “There’s live music in the square tonight,” you say, “They usually start up around dusk--“ and you feel suddenly shy. Ezra’s a spacer, he’s been places you probably can’t imagine. “It’s not that weird twitchy shit coming out of Central these days is it?” You laugh. “No, nothing like that. What do you say? Take a girl dancing?” “I would be honored,” says Ezra, “But I’ll have you know that I am a terrible dancer.” “The steps are easy. I’ll show you.” “I look forward to it,” he says, “I’ll meet you in the square at sun-down.”

You have to go into town anyway. You sell your wares at the general store. Balms and salves and tinctures and teas, bird-eye berry gel for teething babies, kind sister and chamomile for sleepless nights. Callie takes her cut, but that’s the price of not having to man your own shop. Everyone in town knows to send the severe cases your way, and otherwise leave you be. There are always a few special orders, things not entirely above board, a powder made of bloodspot spores that will end a pregnancy, opium and bird eye berry dried and made into a tea that can ease someone’s passing with few questions. Giggle-weed infused syrup to help a man get hard, everything passed out in folded envelopes, dark glass jars,blank and innocuous. You do your rounds and make your way to the square, watch the first band set up. A cello imported from Kevva knows where, goatskin drums, a flute carved from a reaper-bird’s hind strut. Rough made guitars. You scan around the square and see the usual faces. There’s a couple of nightclubs closer to the docks, places where the spacers go and you imagine him there. Little prickling like a thorn inside your chest. Never going to see him again anyway so what does it matter?

“Well, there you are!” You turn from the pint of cider you’ve been nursing and smile. “Ezra! Wasn’t sure I’d see you!!” You stand and he pulls you into a strong embrace, and then holds you at arms length. “Wasn’t sure I’d see you either,” he says, “Pretty lady who soothed my hurts and listened to my yap and saw my pale and unimpressive ass? I’m surprised you didn’t run for the hills.” “I knew you’d be pretty once the swelling went down.” “You clean up nice, too.” You wonder for a second if he’s making fun, traded your usual workday clothes for your favorite dress, not fancy by off-world standards, river-linen dyed summer sky blue, but there’s no judgement in his eyes and widening smile, just warmth, slides his palms down your arms and squeezes your hands in his. The band plays and the caller names the steps, and people swing their partners and turn and Ezra’s face tightens. “This looks unduly complicated,” “Let’s get some cider in you. It won’t seem so complicated then.” “If you say so, Gentle Hands.” “I do say so. Just watch for a bit and then let me lead.”

Despite your best efforts, Ezra is truly a terrible dancer, the reels and jigs and square dances see him dazed, unable to tell his right from his left and after one particularly disastrous dance the two of you collapse into each other, laughing, clinging to each other and then the band starts a slow one, which means that the caller picks at his guitar and sings a song of lost love while the rest of the band hit the bar and give everyone else a chance to catch their breath. A handful of couples make their way to the floor, and Ezra holds his hand out to you. “This is a dance I know, if you’d do me the honor.”

You expect you’ll never see him again. You’ve come to regard the spacers you meet as spring-sprites, all sun glittered wings, pulling themselves out of the mud only to live a hand of cycles and then vanish. He’ll persist in your thoughts for a bit, this pretty man with his odd way of speaking and his lovely dark eyes, but once he leaves the well he’ll fade like they all do, become a tender memory and nothing more, but for now you ache pleasantly from his attentions. The dock is swarmed with clotted crews of spacers, stacks of luggage, piles of gear waiting to be loaded, low hiss of regulator-valves triggering along the snake-work of cable leading from the tanks to the transfer ship, a squat soot-stained wedge, plated in dingy heat-tiles like a fish’s scales. You suspect this craft is older than you. “This isn’t goodbye, you know,” says Ezra, and your heart squeezes. You’ve heard this before. A delirious hand of cycles, but they always go and they never come back and most times you are able to guard your heart, but not this time, not with him, and your usual glib response doesn’t come. “Ezra, I—we—it’s not?“ He reaches for you and cradles your face in his warm, rough hands, and you expect to feel his lips on yours, his mouth hungry and fever hot, but instead he stretches up and kisses your forehead, and something inside you tugs, pulls, cries out at this unexpected tenderness, tears sting your eyes so you close them, as his breath fans warm over your skin. Ezra kisses your closed eyes, right then left and then rests his forehead against yours. “I’ll see you again, Gentle Hands,” he says and pulls you into a crushing hug, and then the deck hand calls out a string of numbers over an intercom, balky speakers strung up on wooden poles all around the port and he’s gone into the surging crowd.

Ezra sings in the shower. He always does and Kevva have mercy that man can’t carry a tune in a bucket. Sweep his damp, shorn curls into a little pile to be scooped up and sprinkled into the garden beds, human scent revolting to the local fauna, but then it screams up at you, a little curl of starlight among the tangled dark, little twist of white hair cut from his temple that you so like to twine your fingers through, now discarded. You bend and pick the damp curl of hair from the floor and roll it between your fingers. You move almost without thinking, tuck that little curl into an envelope you usually use for dry herb blends, fold it closed and hold it in your hands a beat, press it to your chest, and then laugh at yourself. Ezra will come back.

He always comes back.

[wishcamper]

Shadow Daddy Issues: Fatherhood in ACOTAR

Part I: Jungian Archetypes and Collectively Unconscious Desires

I've been trying to write some version of this for like two months now, but it keeps getting longer and more convoluted so I'm going to break it down into more digestible chunks. This first part will be talking about archetypes in ACOTAR and dark romance, and why they might be appealing to readers.

CW: sexual violence, relational abuse

I've been thinking a lot recently about why these 'dark romance' stories are so popular, and what makes them so appealing to an audience of mainly young, white women. These books present morally dubious to downright criminal behavior as romantic, desirable. Feysand is 'goals' for MANY PEOPLE. It makes me so curious about what appeal these relationships have, and what they say about those of us who write and consume them.

Okay we’re gonna talk about some Jungian theory, stay with me.

Carl Jung coined the term ‘collective unconscious’ to describe a set of symbols that span across all cultures. These symbols, called archetypes, are universal and easily recognizable, and can be events (birth/marriage, rite of passage), figures (mother/trickster/wise one), or motifs (the great flood, the journey to the underworld). These psychological symbols and representations of common life events make sense when you think about how human brains are naturally pattern-seeking, that over time there would be an advantage to having a neural shorthand for characters and experiences that gets passed down.

The archetype of the father is characterized by protection, guidance, and providing from the outside world. (FATHERS DO NOT HAVE TO BE MEN BTW.) Alongside actual fathers, in stories they can be represented as kings or other rulers, gods, even concepts like fate and time. Fathers are associated with power, control, and responsibility. Atticus Finch is the quintessential father type, with Darth Vader being a delicious subversion.

The other archetype I want to talk about is the shadow, which represents the unconscious (the parts of ourselves we don’t have awareness of) that usually contradicts major aspects of our conscious persona. I think about Ted Haggard being all righteous about The Gays burning in hell while also hiring male sex workers and doing crystal meth. In literature, the shadow can be internal or can be represented by an outside force (Grendel in Beowulf). Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is a classic literary allegory of the shadow, where the two sides of the same man act completely contradictory to each other. The shadow is our ‘dark side’ that contains the parts of us that feel dangerous or that we don’t want to acknowledge.

But the shadow isn’t inherently bad, and suppressing the shadow usually makes it MORE prominent and influential (right, Ted?). In fact it's through integration of the shadow that we accept our own contradictions and adopt a more fluid, changeable sense of self.

In literature, archetypes are the building blocks of story. How an author uses these archetypes in conversation with one another tells different stories and conveys different themes based on what the author is trying to say. Archetypes hold built-in thematic value for readers, and the way authors use them can either reinforce the qualities of the archetype (Luke Skywalker, Bilbo Baggins) or subvert it to say something else (Don Quixote, Jo March).

Sometimes authors' use of archetypes reveals messages from the author unintentionally, whether about their personal views or the attitudes of their culture. SJM does this with her repeated downplaying and denigration of more traditionally female jobs and skills. And when we as the audiences engage with media, even privately, we engage with the larger cultural conversation about these archetypes, how they show up, and how we relate to them . Wikipedia says it best:

“The very act of watching movies has important psychological meaning not just on an individual level, but also in terms of sharing mass social attitudes through common experience.”

Brands use archetypes ALL the time to play on unconscious stories and sell us shit. I remember all those commercials at the beginning of the pandemic that were playing on our sense of fear and loneliness, reminding us that Apple is here to care for us in these uncertain times (but not the people in sweatshops in China, apparently). Apple positioned itself as our benevolent caregiver making sure we can stay connected with our community, how kind of them. It tried to engender a sense of loyalty and devotion like we would feel for a caregiver while also advertising itself as the great protector between us and crushing isolation.

This feels relevant when looking at ACOTAR because the publishing house's goal is ultimately to sell books. Given SJM's casual-at-best relationship with continuity of plot and character, we can see the ways the stories are shifting to satisfy the core audience. This is most clear in ACOSF with the sheer amount of graphic sex, but you can see the threads of it as early as ACOMAF ex dropping Moriel, retconning Azriel saving Gwyn at Sangravah. We'll get into this conversation between reader and publisher in a later post, but I want you to keep it in the back of your mind.

With Apple, they are identifying a problem (isolation) and presenting a solution (buy an iPhone). With ACOTAR, I think it's interesting to work backwards from the end result to see what problem SJM is attempting to fix given her solution. So what is the solution SJM presents us with?

I'd say it's pretty clear: romance with men. Feyre's love for Tamlin saves Prythian in ACOTAR, Rhys' love (and mind control?) brings her back to life UTM, then her relationship with Rhys saves her from depression and Tamlin in ACOMAF, and then their love convinces the queen to help them. Cassian's dick love saves Nesta in ACOSF when he stabs himself instead of her.

The 'love conquers all' theme is strong here, but how do we see it play out? Often in dynamics where a man consistently overrides a woman's desires for her own good (the pregnancy, lying about the Weaver, lying about the bond). And what do all the male love interests have in common? Physical strength, positions of authority, and a guiding but firm attitude toward the FMC.

Now what archetype does this sound like?

To me, the male love interests are incredibly paternal and often act in father-like roles (training, monitoring diets, taking out on excursions to 'push' them, etc). Even the whole 'your choice' schtick is reminiscent of parenting - like, of course she has a choice. She's a grown woman. Why does she need your permission to realize that?

And there is another layer here when it comes to the age gaps. ALLLLL the men in central ACOTAR couples are significantly older than their female love interests. This is excluding couples like Kallias and Vivianne and Helion/LOA who we either never see together or don't know enough about. Even the peripheral couples have age gaps - Rhysand’s mom and dad, Nesta and the Duke, etc. The men are always older and have a lot more sexual experience, as well as life experience in general. We don’t see any relationships where the woman clearly has more power/knowledge/status than her partner other than Amren and Varian.

However, UNlike the father archetype there is an overt sexuality to the male love interests, which makes sense given these are romance novels of one form or another. But every male character is described as significantly more sexually experienced, and they often sexually goad their love interest whether she likes it or not, eventually being rewarded for their persistence. The men are also shown to be sexually possessive, and this is used as an indicator of how much he loves the FMC ie the frenzy.

The FMCs, by contrast, are young, troubled, broke, inexperienced, homeless, traumatized, and vulnerable when we meet them. The world of Prythian is shown to be completely impossible to navigate as a woman unless you are royal or you have a man to guide you.

But like the men, the FMCs are also overtly sexual. Even Nesta in Wings and Embers is talking about masturbation while she's portrayed as the most modest character. The FMCs 'healing journeys' occur alongside their sexual liberation (?) - Feyre comes back to life by flirting and then having sex with Rhys, Nesta somehow learns to trust through sexual combat with her ex accepting Cassian as her mate.

The men are the key to not just the women's protection, but also the conduit through which they are able to enjoy love and life. The FMCs are only allowed access to 'healthy' sexuality through these paternalistic relationships. It's notable that Nesta's use of casual sex is insulted, but when it's with one person who's also her mate it's suddenly fine.

Which, in a way, does make sense. Prythian is a place where, like the United States, gendered violence is rampant. Almost every female character we meet has experienced violence from men, even the ones we don't meet, and sexual violence is a major plot point on many occasions.

And I don't think this is in a GRRM exploitative shock value way - I get the feeling it's because a large subset of the audience resonates with these stories. Rates of sexual violence in the US are staggering. This kind of violence can lead to complex relationships with sex, men, and sexuality, as well as suppression of sexual drives. Sexual desire itself can feel inherently unsafe.

I know as a survivor of sexual violence myself, I'm often drawn to stories that explore the intersection of this trauma with a healthy, loving sex life. And I don't think it's wrong to want to explore our sexuality in safe arenas, and books can 100% give us an avenue to do so. (And this is not to say all ACOTAR readers share this experience, but logically there is a big overlap in the Venn diagram given the ACOTAR audience.)

But this is where the 'dark' part of dark romance makes me uneasy, because it specifically positions itself to satisfy a normal desire with unsavory or unsafe solutions sanctioned by the text. To engage in healthy sex, according to the SJM, the FMC must be monogamous but a freak in bed, hypersexual but only in very confined conditions, and only with the man who loves her so much he'll kill other people to keep her safe.

So knowing all that, who is best to fill this role for the FMC, and by extension the reader? Someone who embodies the protective, loving role of a father who also draws out darker desires, merging with the erotic shadow lots of women experience in a sexually violent world? Someone like a.. shadow daddy?

:)

okay see you next week, when we'll discuss TikTok fetish content, object relations theory, and the wierdest documentary I've ever seen.

class dismissed!

[laufire]

may reading meme!

BOOKS

The Sign of Four by Arthur Conan Doyle. This one introduces Mary. I wish she'd gotten the treasure and become a rich heiress 😢

Inheritance by Devin Grayson. Loved it. I'm definitely gonna track down her other prose novels. I made a good guess on who [redacted] from very early in the book, practically from the first, and it was still quite gripping. The funniest thing, however, is how unequal each of the former sidekicks' sections are lol. Was she just going through the motions with Garth? Although, by virtue of being the one I know the least about, it did make me want to read his comics. Roy's and Dick's were more even, both with incredibly poignant, poetic flashbacks I adored, but you can tell DickAndBruce is where her heart is and their dynamic was showcased beautifully imo. Her characterization of Ollie is... surely controversial, and doesn't quite match how I see the guy, but it didn't bother me.

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. This one is a reread, though it's been a decade since I read it for the first time. I've read it even more slowly than the first time around, pondering over practically every passage. Nabokov's prose is simply sublime, and Dolores's character is one of those that stays with you for how much you read into her.

COMICS

Beneath the Trees Where Nobody Sees. The first issue enchanted me, and the last one was a very apt ending for the story. The journey to get there let me down.

FCBD 2024: Barda Special Edition. This is a preview for an upcoming story. A young Barda is charged to break the prisoner Scott Free, as the beginning of their romance. Theirs is a ship I've been curious about for a while, and I really dig the premise, so I can't wait to read it.

Catwoman: Her Sister's Keeper. A short, gritty origin story that builds on the Selina we see in Batman: Year One, written by the same author as Lois Lane (1986). I really wish her sister was more present in Catwoman's story in general, tbh. She was featured in Selina's Knight Terror mini, which I might end up rereading.

The Bat-Man: First Knight. Three-part run set in the 40s, the original Batman setting. A tale of monsters, human experimentation, and the effects of the second world war. I enjoyed it, though not wildly, but it confirms I'd enjoy more historical settings in my comics.

War Games. Oh boy. OH BOY. My kill list grew with each page I read. The missed shot at a proper story with robin!Steph, the incredibly uncharitable way she's written... all to end in the grossest example of character assassination I've ever seen with Dr Leslie Thompkins, all to relieve Bruce of his guilt for his part in Steph's demise. I wanted to read the arc because I thought it was important for some Steph-focused storylines I want to write that build up on it (mostly by subverting or contradict him), but with few exceptions (SOME of Steph's Robin arc, the school plot, Tarantula's appearances, and the parts touching on Dick's downward spiral, for example) it was all so hateful and mean-spirited. Even the prelude to the proper arc, starting with Bruce and Cass's visit to Jason grave to use him as a cautionary tale against Steph, or that storyline about the teen mothers... death. Death to Dan DiDio for one thousand years.

Outsiders (2003). I'm including the Teen Titans crossover arcs (including both Secret Files and Origins issues, both GREAT), and the Outsiders: Five of a Kind arc where Batman is a shit xD (it also did make me wanna read the continuation in the next Batman and the Outsiders run). The art was... Mixed, by which I mean that sometimes it was fuck-ugly lol, but I loved the run. Winick gets me. I have a special place in my heart for Jason's little arc, OBVIOUSLY, but my favourite parts are, second, Dick's arc, and first, ANISSA AND GRACE. I as a lesbian owe Winick much for that one. They're the main attraction for the continuation, ngl. I also loved Shift and Indigo, btw. So damn tragic 🥲

[karliahs]

For DVD commentary, can you do walk a mile? Starting from "He considers leaving the room altogether," and ending at "There are drawings too, every now and then, detailed ones that are better than anything Hitoshi could do."

ooh, an old one! interesting to look back on because the decisions i made in that fic were long enough ago now that it feels like someone else made them

fun fact: i wrote this fic on a train, or specifically on two trains and in a coffee shop, because i accidentally got on a train that went an hour in the wrong direction before it stopped. and then spent an hour waiting in a coffee shop for a train that would go back the right way, and then for a couple of hours on a train going back.

and so while i was doing all that waiting, i wrote this fic on my phone (insane to me now). i think i may have typed a bit of it on a laptop when i got home finally, and i also think i may have posted it that same day??? kind of wild looking back on how blasé i used to be about some stuff (i would never dream of posting something now without days of editing)

i was also writing shinsou exclusively from sports festival and fanon. joint training arc wasn't in the anime yet at that time, and i was anime-only back then. so i'd probably write him differently now, but also if i'm gonna say that i should put my money where my mouth is and actually do that!

anyway!!! the passage:

He considers leaving the room altogether, roaming some dream version of the dorms, but he's still not convinced things aren't about to disintegrate the way they so often do when he manages to sleep, familiar landscapes draining away like sand, floors he's walked a thousand times suddenly giving way, dark things rising up out of the shadows.  Those dreams are worst when they're in places he knows, leaving him uneasy for days afterwards in whatever place they've decided to ruin this time. Better to stay in his invented version of Midoriya's room, even if it makes him feel bitter, and then bitter at his own bitterness. He's your classmate now, Hitoshi reminds himself. The scales are still vastly unbalanced, but for once he's moving in the right direction. 

...it is very difficult to not mentally line-edit this as i'm reading it. anyway. that thing where dreams will ruin stuff is deeply annoying. it happens to me more often with people than with places, but it is so frustrating to be like well i feel weird talking to this person now because my brain decided to write a play where we had an argument or something. projecting my annoyance with that onto Probable Sleep Issues guy

i do think bitter about your own bitterness could be a fun thing to play with more. like, the very fact that you're envying someone reminds you how far apart you are, which just drives more envy and frustration. also the dramatic irony of shinsou not understanding that midoriya also feels so behind and like he has such a shaky claim to this world is delightful and frustrating to me in almost equal measure (i need. them to be friends)

He tries to distract himself by snooping, unsure who he’ll really be learning more about. Mostly he gets the impression of an overwhelming amount of stuff. Hitoshi knows his own attitude to possessions isn’t exactly typical. He’d moved so often growing up that he’d started to take a kind of spiteful satisfaction in adding more and more of his things to the ‘give away’ pile with each move, insisting his parents couldn’t make him pack anything he didn’t want, looking around at his sparse, personality-less room and feeling like one thing was within his control.  It was partly why he hadn’t wanted anyone in his UA dorm room - he had school supplies tucked away in drawers, the bare minimum of clothes secluded in closets, and that was mostly it. Even with books, which he loved, he’d gotten used to getting from libraries rather than keeping any. He had plain black sheets on the bed.  The thought of changing things, of adding more stuff, even when he was in theory going to be in the same place for the next two and half years, made him feel twitchy and strange.

this is fun to look back on, because i don't think back in 2020 i had really acknowledged the ways in which i am weird about Stuff. not in this way exactly - none of my living spaces could be described as minimalist - but i have a real hatred of clutter (it feels like it's sending my brain notifications all the time and i can't make it stop), and a weird guilt thing about having too many things or having to get rid of things (i got offered a free book the other week and was filled with a weird panic at the idea of bringing something into my space without having thought carefully about whether it has a place there. like the "now i gotta be responsible for this water bottle" tweet but with every possession in my home. makes me feel, one might say, twitchy and strange)

anyway, as usual this isn't so much a fixed headcanon for shinsou as a thing i felt like exploring. one of the ways people try to gain a sense of control, especially for children and teenagers who control so few things. shinsou as a book-lover is a pretty consistent fond headcanon of mine (i like the light novel bit where he's baffled by people doing anything but studying on the weekends. books are a good hobby for a studious little guy, plus escapism, plus the lonely kid tradition of hiding away with a book)

His imagined version of Midoriya’s room is the opposite extreme. Every wall is adorned with posters, every surface covered with mostly All Might themed memorabilia, but also books, lamps, trinkets. He inspects dream-Midoriya’s book collection, finding a surprising amount of nonfiction, and also an intriguing stack of worn notebooks, at least a dozen. He snags one from the pile at random and flips it open. It takes him a while to make out the small, messy handwriting, and even longer to start drawing meaning from the scribbled, lengthy notes, written in a way that suggests the writer wasn’t trying to make them comprehensible for anyone except his future self. For the most part, the notebook is full of narrative regarding current active pro heroes - descriptions of fights witnessed in person or from internet footage; analysis of techniques, costumes, approach to publicity and interviews, varying between the kinds of paragraphs that wouldn’t seem out of place in a school essay to more personal, over-excited commentary. There are drawings too, every now and then, detailed ones that are better than anything Hitoshi could do.

midoriya, on the other hand, strikes me much more as a primarily nonfic reader than a fiction one. frenzied researcher vibes

anyway, midoriya's notebooks my beloved <3 them being revealed to various people is a v common trope in bnha fic, often with people marveling at the quality of analysis in them. and i'm fond of that! i think he is very good at analysing situations and this was obvs a learned skill. love when people appreciate my boy. but i also think he's an excited little fanboy, and a young teenager who has no real access to the world he's writing about, and also is writing for himself with no expectation of it needing to be comprehensible to anyone else. so i more imagine them as a fun mishmash of analysis and excitement, like real fan spaces

and as is referenced in the parts of the fic that follow on from this, i'm kind of less interested in the notebooks' quality than in them as like...an artifact of long-term loneliness. not having friends at a formative age will fuck you up, because humans are fundamentally social creatures who develop a sense of their own identity through interactions with others. so when those interactions are absent are largely negative, people can end up with thoughts kind of stoppered up inside themselves with nowhere to go. and i thought about that a lot with izuku, who has no one to share his love of heroes with

okay that's a sad note to end on again, oops, but this was fun to look back on, ty!!

[shivunin]

DID I SEND CHARACTERS ALREADY? I can’t remember but I’m gonna do it (again)

Leliana, Bethany, and Josie??

Nope, but good picks! c: And thank you for asking, Zen!

(Character Ask thing)

Leliana:

First impression: I started Inquisition first, so: ooh badass spy lady, I'm into it

Impression now: The same, but I love the dimension that playing Origins gives her character (+ Leliana's song). To see her go from this devil-may-care character to a woman who is trying her best to be virtuous, then the Left Hand of the Divine to her ending in Inquisition (hardened/unhardened, Divine/not Divine) is all so fascinating. We get so much scope in her character and I think it's fantastic.

Favorite moment: I think my favorite line for her is the bit about shoes in the Winter Palace, where she talks about everything she can sort of interpret based on the woman's buckles. It's such an interesting insight into her thought process

Idea for a story: I have a half-written scene with her and Salshira in the Josie/Salshira universe where she helps arrange passage to the duel with Lord Otranto and I think it's really fun!

Unpopular opinion: I know people generally think it's not canon/ridiculous, but I think Fade Ghost Leliana is so goddamn funny. She came back from the ether to work a 9 to 5 for the church. Like what?? She fought her friend to the death over a jar of ashes and dragon's blood and then she was like, well, okay, but what if there was an epilogue?? It's so funny. So so funny.

Favorite relationship: Leliana and Shmooples. I want more Leliana and Shmooples content. She loves that little fella so much and I want to know what their day to day is like. (but I am also interested in how Josie and Leliana became friends; she is so protective of Josie in a way she isn't toward anyone else and it is really really interesting to me)

Favorite headcanon: Leliana and Zev are buddies and stay in touch. I saw a comic a while ago of him leaving gifts/notes for the other companions and I find the headcanon so delightful. I like to imagine he's how Leliana actually tracked down the Hero of Ferelden.

Bethany:

*I want to preface this by saying that I have not even once played 2 with a non-mage, so I haven't spent a ton of time around Bethany.

First impression: Oh, cool, you get siblings in this one!

Impression now: Let Bethany say fuck. For the love of God, let Bethany say fuck

Favorite moment: I am so sorry, I can't think of anything specific T.T I do think her dialogue with a romanced Sebastian in the Legacy DLC is funny.

Idea for a story: In my magician AU, Bethany is in a coma. I have loosely plotted a part in this AU where she wakes up and is able to express some of that anger about the role she had in her family.

Unpopular opinion: Idk if this qualifies, but I would like to have the option to choose which sibling dies in the intro sequence (no hate to Carver) so I can have my cake and eat it, too (be a mage and also hang out w Bethany)

Favorite relationship: Isabela sending Bethany naughty books in the Circle cracks me up, so those two.

Favorite headcanon: I like to imagine she and Wen hang out if she is a Warden (and have some version of a "don't you ever just want to lose it?" conversation)

Josephine: (light of my life!!!)

First impression: Oh my goodness she is so pretty 🥺

Impression now: Same. But also, if there is one individual person I would not piss off from Inquisition, it's Josie. Everyone else will just kill you---maybe take a bit doing it, but ultimately they would kill you. Josie?? Josie could wipe your family history off the map if she wanted. She could ruin everyone who ever helped you. And yet! she also goes out of her way to be kind to the Inquisitor even if un-romanced. I love that she stays herself throughout the events of the game.

Favorite moment: The Otranto duel. Oh my goodness. The drama! The romance! Josie not wanting the Inquisitor in harm's way, but also so relieved to be with them openly! My little romantic's heart can't take it.

Idea for a story: The uh. The Otranto duel with her and Salshira. Salshira having no idea how to fight with a sword but learning as much as she can on the boat over. Going in knowing she can't win and knowing she's going to do it anyway because Josie (clever, beloved Josie, who is home to her even though she wasn't looking for one) is worth it to her. She is worth being loud and vulnerable about her affection and she is worth fighting for. The relief of getting to hold Josie in public, with everyone watching, and swing her around in happiness---just like their dance at the Winter Palace, but a thousand times more joyful (I totally haven't thought about this at all...)

Unpopular opinion: Josie has never done anything wrong ever. I don't know if it's an unpopular opinion or not, but that's just facts.

Favorite relationship: Josie and Bull---like what is going on there, Josie???

Favorite headcanon: Josie sharing her doll collection with her love <3 (this isn't even a headcanon, I just realized as I wrote it, it's just like. a fic idea. ah well.)

[unfoldingmoments]

Building Your Identity In Christ

From The Leader’s Cut with Preston Morrison

Not understanding our identity in Christ will keep us living far below our rights and privileges in Christ. The fastest way for a Christ follower to live a subpar life is to have zero idea who they are in Him. The extent to which you know Christ and who you are in Christ is the extent to which you will live the abundant life Christ came to give.

The God of the universe thinks so highly of you that He established your inheritance that you will receive in its fullness for eternity. And the inheritance is not just all things. The inheritance is all of Him.

What's up, everybody? Welcome back to The Leader's Cut. This is your first time joining The Leader's Cut.

What's going on? It's great to have you as a part of this conversation. Jump into the comments, let us know where you're from, let us know how you got here.

“The Leader's Cut isn't just a me thing, it's an us thing. And so I love to see the conversation go on between those of us who feel called to this community of like-minded believers. So welcome, whether it's your first time, whether it's your 50th time.

I don't even know how many episodes we've done, but it's probably more than 50. Welcome to you all. As you can see from the thumbnail, we're talking about something that it's really hard for me to stay still talking about, all right?

So admittedly, I just say, I get a little bit swaggy. Whenever we talk about this, it's hard for me just to be like, when we talk about our identity in Christ, if it doesn't stir you up, you're not getting it, all right? So let's pray, and especially I'm gonna pray over those who are really feeling beaten down by the enemy, just bombarding them with lies.

“If that's you, buckle up, get out a notebook, get out your Bible, get out something to write with, because I believe the Holy Spirit is going to visit you right where you are using this conversation. So let's pray. Holy Spirit, thank you.

Thank you for being so wonderful. Thank you for being so gentle. You could be so angry with me, with us.

You could be so annoyed with me, with us. Yet, you are so kind and loving and gentle. And so Holy Spirit, we invite you in to this conversation.

Desiring that you would be the head of the conversation. You'd be the one steering it and guiding it. We didn't step into this conversation to hear Preston speak.

We'll all exit this thing immediately if that's what we're here for. Holy Spirit, we came to hear your voice. Would you reveal to us who we are in Christ?”

“Whether we've been walking with Jesus for an hour or for decades. Holy Spirit, cut on us anywhere where we have some built up scarring in our flesh related to the lies the enemy has always told us about us. Set every captive free from every lie from your enemy, O God.

And would you liberate us to step into the truth about us as we learn what you say about us. That is what is true. So Holy Spirit, do what you do, because God knows I can't.

We pray all these things in Jesus' name. Amen. Amen.

All right. I want to read a passage of Scripture from the book of Colossians. And I want this to calibrate our hearts and our minds.

We're going to go through a lot of Scripture in this episode, and I want this passage right here. These three verses, the beginning of Colossians chapter 3, to really serve as our calibration. It says this, Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God's right hand.”

Think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth. For you died to this life. This is speaking to believers.

You died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God.

What a great passage to really help calibrate our hearts and our minds as we step into this conversation about our identity in Christ. Here's the reality, too many people view themselves through what others say about themselves, through what the world says about them, through what the enemy says about them. And God goes on a record in Colossians 3 and says, Listen, as a believer in Jesus, you need to set your sights, your thoughts on the realities of heaven, the truth, not this silly, frivolous conversation on the earth among earthlings.

If we're going to truly walk in our identity in Christ, we're going to have to run away from the words of man and from man's understanding oftentimes of us. A couple of questions we're going to answer. Several of them we're just going to go through briefly because really the last question, we're going to spend the bulk of our time talking through.

So here's the first question. As we talk about identity and really the two options between building your identity in Christ and building your identity on anything else, what happens when you build your life on the wrong identity or the wrong thing? Tim Keller said one time, and I love this quote, the Bible says that our real problem is that every one of us is building our identity on something besides Jesus.

This is a weighty thought that paints a very clear picture that anything you build your life upon, including your identity, anything other than Jesus that you choose to build your life upon is going to wreak havoc in your entire life. Matthew chapter 7, there is a wonderful picture of this that maybe you've heard this passage, maybe you haven't, but let's read it together because I want you to understand just how serious it is that you build your life, including your identity, on Jesus and not on anything else. Matthew chapter 7, starting in verse 24.”

These are the words of Jesus. He says, Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won't collapse because it is built on bedrock.

But anyone who hears my teaching and doesn't obey it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. When the rain and flood floods come and the winds beat against that house, watch what happens. It will collapse with a mighty crash.

Now some of us hear this and go, eh, what's the big deal? It's interesting to me that the very next verse in this chapter says, and as the people heard this teaching from Jesus, they were amazed by it. Why would the people listening to Jesus teach this principle be so amazed?

“But anyone who hears my teaching and doesn't obey it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. When the rain and flood floods come and the winds beat against that house, watch what happens. It will collapse with a mighty crash.

Now some of us hear this and go, eh, what's the big deal? It's interesting to me that the very next verse in this chapter says, and as the people heard this teaching from Jesus, they were amazed by it. Why would the people listening to Jesus teach this principle be so amazed?

Here's my personal belief. Because most humans are building their lives on many other things other than Jesus. As we attach this philosophy of building your life on either Jesus or building your life on anything else, on Jesus, you can go through any storm, bedrock, no problem.

Listen to me, if you choose to build your life, including your identity, on anything other than Jesus, anytime the smallest of storms comes at you, you're going to be overwhelmed, and it's going to feel like your ship is sinking, your house is collapsing. Let's connect this specifically to our identity in Christ. Not understanding our identity in Christ will keep us living far below our rights and privileges in Christ.

Another way to say it, the fastest way for a Christ follower to live a subpar life is to have zero idea who they are in Him. Now, I want to kind of illustrate this so that you really get this picture, because there's really no point in us having this conversation about who you really are, who God says you are. Because if you're feeling wobbly, and you're just being picked on by the enemy, and anxiety, and depression, and confusion, and all of those things, it's going to do us no good to talk about how to navigate those storms.

If you don't really understand, it's a choice. It's a very black and white choice. You're either going to build on Jesus, or you're going to build on anything else.

I want you to imagine that your father is a multi, multi, multi billionaire. And your father passes that inheritance to you as an only child. The day your father passes, you inherit, let's just say, hundreds of billions of dollars.

Some of you are like, I like this, this story. But I want you to think about what good would an inheritance from the richest person on the earth do if you, as the one receiving the inheritance, don't live accordingly as a result of it? Think about it.

If you inherited hundreds of billions of dollars, but you never spent a dime of it, would it really even matter what you inherited? Even if you had access to hundreds of billions of dollars, but every day of your life, you ate crackers, mac and cheese, and water with no ice. Because in your mind, you had become convinced that you were poor.

And so because you believe that, you live according to that belief. Okay, that's the financial picture of it. Let's ask the spiritual question.

What good is a spiritual inheritance from the creator of heaven and earth? So not the richest person on earth, the creator of heaven and earth, if you don't live accordingly as a result of it?

There are so many things as the sons and daughters of God that we have inherited that affect who we now are and forever will be. But listen to me, I know many, many believers in Jesus who for one reason or another have chosen not to believe what scripture teaches about who God says they are, about how God sees them, and everything that comes with being His. I see a ton of believers who don't even realize they have inherited billions, but are not even spending spiritual pennies every day.

The problem is you will always live according to what your strongest beliefs are. Now, I want to be really careful with this next picture, but we're living in a day where some men are saying they're women, that they believe themselves to be a woman, something other than the way God created them, and that some women are saying they believe themselves to be men. Now, I'm not trying to push anybody's buttons.

I'm trying to help you see how powerful a belief can be, that God can create a person one way, but their personal belief about themselves can be so powerful that it's possible that in their everyday life, what they believe about themselves trumps what God actually says and did. And we're all freaking out about it, because we're so focused on the man-woman thing. Look beyond that, at how powerful the mind is.

You will always live according to what your strongest beliefs are. And we got all these believers running around just freaking out. I'm not saying it's a good thing, it certainly is.”

“The trans issue, the trans issue. You know what's even scarier in the church than a man saying he is a woman or a woman saying she is a man? What is far to me scarier than that is a spiritual multi-billionaire.

I'm not talking about money. I'm talking about spiritual inheritance, convinced they are spiritually homeless. And if I was the enemy, I'd get the church so worked up on people who believe that they are a woman when they were born a man.

I'd get everybody all worked up on that belief so that no one would be paying attention to the much larger group of people in the church who are spiritual billionaires living their everyday lives as though they were spiritually homeless. You will always live according to what your strongest beliefs are. I'm not talking about what you look like on your best day, because everybody can fake themselves out with that fake confidence on their best day.

I'm talking about on your worst day. I can tell a lot about you based on how you live on your worst day, how you behave on your worst day. You will always live according to what your strongest beliefs are.

2.And this is why we must understand what Scripture teaches us about who we truly are. The second question that we really need to answer in this conversation is, okay, what should your identity not be built on? This is, before we talk about what our identity is built on, let's kind of talk through what most people actually build their identity on.

The lies we believe about God are the most dangerous lies in all the earth. But in my opinion, the second most dangerous lies in all the earth are the lies we believe about ourselves.

What you believe about God that is not true. I don't know that there is a bigger lie that is more dangerous than that, but right below that, the lies you believe about yourself. Remember, Satan is the accuser of the Brethren.

He's not just accusing you before God, he's accusing you. He's accusing you before you. He's literally, some of you, he is taunting.

This is who you are. I tell you this all the time, never believe what a liar says, especially when a liar talks about God and a liar is talking about you. Never believe what the father of lies says about the F father.

And never believe what the father of lies says about you as God's child. Now, the list I'm going to give you is, I don't know that we could ever call A list a comprehensive list, but it's a fairly robust list of things I've seen over the years, the last couple of decades, that people tend to build their lives upon. And they all fit in a bucket.

1 John 2 actually describes these three buckets that people build their lives upon that are no good. 1 John 2 verse 15 says, Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the father is not in him.

For all that is in the world, here are the three buckets, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the father, but of this world. And the world is passing away and the lust of it. But he who does the will of God abides forever.

Powerful passage helping us understand that what the world offers, essentially, all of it falls into three buckets. Lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, the pride of life. All of the things I'm about to give you on this list of things that many of us have either tried to build our lives upon or presently are building our lives upon.

“Everything on this list fits in one of these three buckets, okay? Let's walk through some of the things that humans tend to build their lives on. That we must never, ever build our lives upon.

1.First, you cannot build your life upon what you've done. That's sin, right? Why is it such a big deal not to build your life, your identity on what you've done in your past, the sin of your past and the shame associated with it?

I think one of the reasons is if Satan can get you to believe that you are what you did, he knows you'll struggle to receive what Jesus did for you. And so he goes to work constantly in whatever way possible, trying to describe you, labeling you as what you did in your past that you were most ashamed of. This is like the Enemies Playbook 101.”

“He loves to define you and me by what we've done, which would separate us from God. Sin. You cannot, I don't care what you've done in your past, you cannot define yourself by what you've done.

You are not what you did. As a child of God, you are not what you did. And you cannot build your understanding of yourself on anything sinful you did in your past.

2.Here's the second thing, that you cannot build your identity upon what you do. So not just what you did, what you do. Another way to say that, success.

How many people do we know who are building their lives on success, on going big, doing the big thing, having the notoriety, getting all the trophies, all the accolades, success?”

Why must you never build your identity upon success? Well, the most simple answer is, because it's fleeting. Success is never constant.

So why would you ever build your identity on something that's always a moving target? You want to be miserable?

Build your identity, your understanding of who you are based off of success. Hey, when you have a good quarter, you're going to feel good.

But you know, most of the time, what you're going to feel? Bad. Because success is a moving target, and it's never ever constant.

The greatest athletes in the world peak and then begin to regress. Success is not forever, so don't build your life and your understanding of who you are in this life on success. If Satan can get you to believe that you are what you do, he knows you'll struggle to rest in what Jesus did.”

“I've been guilty of that one. When I was younger, the enemy convinced me, you are what you do. You're successful, Preston, as long as you are experiencing success presently.

Oh my word, the lack of sleep I got. I was literally incapable of resting in God. When I was too busy trying to be successful, even in the name of God.

Why? Because my identity in that season was built not on the Spirit of God, but on success. And I made it sound godly, because I said success in the name of God.

You cannot build your identity, your understanding of who you are on success. If life is like being an athlete, you're going to have some good games and some bad games. You cannot define yourself, whether you are good or bad, based off whether you do good or bad.

3.The next thing, you cannot build your identity on is what you have. Possessions, your stuff. How many people do we see?”

My Lord, as we were printing money during COVID in this country and some other countries around the world, how many people? Have you gone to the mall recently and seen how many, I'm going to just say this tongue-in-cheek, bougie stores are popping up in malls, and they have lines outside the door? I don't think it's not inherently wrong, but I mean, you see people, and you know not all of those people can afford those possessions.

Why on earth would they be waiting in line to spend thousands and thousands of dollars that they don't have on one little possession? Here's the answer. Because unfortunately, they're building their identity off of what they have.

Please hear my heart. I'm not saying every single person who has something nice is building their identity on what they have. I'm talking about.

If you can't afford something and you still buy it, that's an identity thing. It really is. It's not just a longing thing.

“It's not just a covetous thing. It's an identity thing. And the enemy loves to come and chirp and say, hey, you'll be more impressive if that which you own is more impressive.

So overspend. If Satan can get you to believe that you are what you have, he knows you'll struggle with chasing what will never be satisfying. You can never chill.

When you're dead set, determine to chase. You can't build your understanding of you on what you have, possessions come and go. And after this life, the possessions of this life literally mean nothing.

I'm not saying constantly have nothing. Hear my heart. I'm saying don't allow your identity to be in your new pair of shoes.

Get a pair of shoes because you like them and because you can afford them. Don't get a pair of shoes because you think it does something for your identity.”

“Building your understanding of you on what you have is literally like building a house on sinking sand. It will never ever be enough. No matter how much sand you bring to this party, there will never be enough to keep the house from crumbling.

4.Here's the next thing. We cannot build our identity on where you come from. Where you come from.

Now, I know that not everybody struggles with this, but man, I've seen some people really not be able to get beyond what they grew up in or around or with. Their upbringing, their family of origin. Why can we not build our identity on where we came from?

Well, let's take the positive. Let's say your father is a billionaire, your mother is a billionaire, and you're not getting a dime from them in your inheritance. Just because your parents are wealthy doesn't mean you are.

If you make who they are to be your identity, here's what will happen. My experience is you'll never feel like you're enough, and you'll always end up chasing things that never actually bring anything to help you understand you're more than enough. The negative side of it, if Satan can get you to believe that you are what you come from, he knows you'll struggle taking your place in the family, capital F, the family of God, the family business, because you're too focused on your family's generational curses.

Well, I just come from a family that's always struggled with this.

Be careful. Think about Saul. Think about the people in Scripture who thought less of themselves because of the family they came from.

We shouldn't either think we are more than someone because of the family, we came from, or less than anyone because of the family we came from. The family I came from doesn't make me better or worse than you. It's just a part of who I am.

But you cannot build, whether good or bad, you cannot build your understanding of you based off of where you come from. Well, I came from poverty, I'm always going to be poor. Or I came from a family of success, I've always got to be a success.

5.No, no. Don't build your identity, don't build your life on that. The next thing you cannot build your identity on is who you know.

I see this one, especially with the younger or the older that are a little less mature. Connections, there's this braggadocious thing about who you know. I know this person, you're always name dropping.

I don't mean to out anybody who name drops a lot, but one of the things I've learned and I used to name drop a lot when I was younger, people who drop the name of others don't really even understand the name God has given them to live in with.”

“And I would say for His name, if you got to be dropping everybody else's name, you don't have an understanding of you. You don't. When you go into the presence of God, God isn't talking about all those other impressive people you think you know.

It comes to be with you, to talk about you, to talk directly to you, personally with you. What's the negative sign of this? If Satan can get you to believe that you are who you know, he knows you'll struggle giving God glory because you give too much credit to man.

When I was all about my connections, I got this job because of this person, I did this because of this hookup, I was constantly giving glory to man. They got all the credit, not glory to God. God shares his glory with no one.

You cannot build your life based on who you know. This whole thing of, I forget the actual saying, but this thought of life is all about who you know, not what you know. It's all about who you know, not what you know.

Bro, if you build your life based on who you think you know, the substance of your life will be shallow for the rest of your life. God made you. He made you specifically, personally.

We're going to talk about that later in this episode. But you cannot build your life based on who you know. Then here's the last one.

6.You can't build your life, your identity, your understanding of yourself on how well you're known. Another word for that, fame. How many times do we see this?

Fame chasers. They don't believe that they are who God says they are, so they chase after everybody knowing and saying their name. If Satan can get you to believe that you are how well you're known, he knows you'll struggle with trying to be a man or a woman who wants to be who everybody else wants them to be.

“This will keep you. If you really want to be known by the world, you'll do whatever you have to be to be liked by the world, which will keep you from fully becoming who God created you to be. You can't build your understanding of you based off of how well everybody knows your name.

I'm going to have fun talking about that one at the end. Okay, so those are the things, the list I'm giving you of things we can't build our life on, we can't build our identity on, we can't build this understanding we have of ourselves on any of those things, all right? This third question is a really quick answer, and we're going to jump right to number four and spend the rest of the episode here.

3.The third question, what happens when you build your life on the correct identity? So we walk through, you know, what happens when you build it on the incorrect identity? It's like building on sand, the house comes crumbling down.”

“We walk through the individual things one can incorrectly build their life, their identity upon, and the dangers of each of them. But what happens when you build your life on the correct things? Here's what I would say as it relates to your identity, when you build on Jesus, when you build your identity on and in Jesus, here's what I believe in arguably will happen.

You will have an unshakable confidence. You will have undisturbed peace. You will have immeasurable settledness.

If I started this episode by saying, question, how many of you want more? Let me say like this. If I started the episode and said, how many of you want an unshakable confidence, an undisturbed peace, an immeasurable settledness?

How many of you would have said yes? Every single one of you. Okay, I actually think the answer is really, really simple.

Now, it's going to take a lifetime of work. Listen to me. The extent to which you know Christ and who you are in Christ is the extent to which you will live the abundant life Christ came to give.”

“It's that simple. It ain't easy, but it is simple. All right, so as we walk through question number four, as we walk through our identity as a believer in Jesus and these things I'm about to teach you are true for every son or daughter of God, okay?

To the extent you understand these things, is the extent to which you will live the abundant life Jesus came to give. And if you do not understand these things, you're not going to have abundant life. I'm not just talking about spiritually, I'm talking about in every area of life, all right?

4.Question number four, what is the identity of every believer? What actually is the identity of every believer? Now, remember, the other side of that coin is what must we not build our identity on?

So I'm going to kind of use what I told you not to build your life upon, and I'm going to juxtapose it with the things we must build our identity in Christ upon. Hey, remember, the first thing was, you must not build your identity on what you've done. Here's Jesus' response to that.

You must build your identity first on this. You are forgiven.

You are forgiven.

You. Yeah, but Preston, you. Are you a believer in Jesus?

That's what I thought. You. You are forgiven.

In my opinion, the greatest gift man will ever receive is forgiveness from God. Isaiah 43 verse 25, God says it like this, I, yes, I alone will blot out your sins for my own sake and will never think of them again. Like we're going to get into some passages here that are going to light you on fire.

And if you are getting your tail kicked in with the enemy just chirping lies about who you are, you're about to get your little soul set on fire. Can you imagine the God of the universe looking you right in the eyes and saying, I alone blot out your sins. I forgive your every sin for my own sake.

Why would God forgive you for his own sake and not yours? You want to hear something romantic? God forgives you for his own sake?

One of the biggest reasons why is because he wants relationship with you that badly. Sin separated man from God and only through forgiveness. Can man, man's relationship with God be restored?

And so God personally says, use your own name. God says, Sarah, Alan, I forgive your sins for my own sake because I want relationship, intimate fellowship with you so badly. It cannot be experienced outside of my forgiving you of your sins and your receiving my forgiveness.

Here's the question. Listen to what he says. I'll never think of your sins again.

I blot them out, I forgive them, and I will never think of your sins again. I have a question for you. How consistently do you think of the sins of your past?

How many times a week do you allow the enemy to keep bringing up that thing you did that you are most ashamed of? How close do you keep the memory of your worst deed? Is it always within reach?

To define yourself by and with? You want me to tell you how closely God keeps your sin to you? Psalm 103, verse 12.

God has removed our sins as far from us, you. God has removed, let me personalize it. God has removed your sin as far from you as the East is from the West.

Please hear my heart. I know some of us have heard this verse many times. We should be able to hear this verse thousands of times and never stop getting thoroughly overwhelmed by it.

I can't tell you how many lies I made early on in my life. I was a liar's liar, and I let the enemy define me by my lies, even after I tried to stop lying. And it wasn't until I got a revelation of this one verse, every day I woke up, I always felt with an arm's reach of what I had done that I was so embarrassed by.

It wasn't until God gave me a revelation of this verse, Preston, the reason I don't say, as far as the north is from the south, is because eventually you can get to the north pole or the south pole. You can reach them. I said, as far as the east is from the west, because east will never reach west.

You go chase it, you will always be running. Preston, that's how far I have removed your nasty, but blood-soaked, covered sins from you. You are not what you did.

You are forgiven.

Here's the next way to combat the whole you are what you did. You're a new creation. You're a new creation.

When you believe you are what you've done, you'll just keep doing what you did.

2 Corinthians 5.17, though, gives us incredible hope. This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person, a new creation. The old life is gone, and a new life has begun.

Here's the best way to try and illustrate this. A new creation is like a completely new creature. The NLT describes it as a new person.

Many of the other translations translate this word as creature or creation. A new creation in Christ is like a totally different creature. Here's what it means.

In Christ, you don't just wake up to a new reality. You are given a completely new nature. Here's kind of a silly picture that I hope you'll remember.

Becoming a new creation in Christ Jesus would be like before Jesus being an elephant, but after salvation, you become a new creation. You don't just become a new elephant. This is the picture that God is painting for us in Scripture that at salvation, an old elephant doesn't just become a new elephant.

What was once an elephant after salvation becomes an airplane. I could literally spend 20 minutes on this one picture right here.

You would never compare an elephant to an airplane or an airplane to an elephant. An airplane gets up in the air, an elephant moves slowly on the ground, right? Two totally different things.

Here's one of the problems I see with many new believers. They think they're just a different elephant. No, dog.

The good news is much better news than that. You're not a new elephant. Track with me here.

You came up out of that grave, raised to new life like an airplane. No longer an elephant.”

For instance, I'll give you an actual example. One of my best friends on the planet was, before Christ, a raging alcoholic who tended to answer life's toughest questions with a bottle. But then, he gave his life to Jesus, and his whole world got flipped upside down.

And in and with Christ, as a completely new creation, my best friend now answers life's hardest questions with his Bible, not a bottle. A totally, totally different creation. New in Christ.

The way you overcome, when the enemy comes to chirp at you and go, You are what you did. No, I'm not, actually. My sin is as far as the east is from the west, away from me.

And I am a new creation in Christ Jesus. Yeah, before salvation, I was the elephant you're talking about. But God, who was rich in mercy and grace, by His grace, I'm no longer an elephant.

I am no longer a slave to sin. I'm one of heaven's airplanes. Track with my tongue and cheek here, okay?

I know you are. I know we've been running together long enough. You get what I'm saying.

How freeing is this? Some of us have just been thinking, I just got to be a better elephant. I just got to be a better elephant.

No, that's not the key to the abundant life. Understanding it is no longer you who lives, but Christ who lives in you. You ain't no elephant.

Saddle up, airplane. You were designed for divine places, places where elephants cannot go. So do not any longer allow the enemy to convince you.

You still are what you once were. You are not. You are a new creation.

Here's the next thing that was on the list. Remember that you can't build your identity upon on what you do. You are not what you do.

How do we combat this? Well, you build your identity on this principle, which Scripture teaches about you. You are loved.

You are not what you do. You are loved. I want you to think about a young woman who comes from poverty and a very wonderful kingdom with a king who is towards the end of his life, and this young woman, beautiful, but not on anyone's radar, because of the measure of poverty, she was often overlooked.

At school, no one paid attention to her, she had very few relationships in her life, and then one day, the son of the king fell in love with the nearly nameless little girl.

She had nothing to bring him, but the son of the king fell madly in love with the girl. Long story short, the prince proposes, they become husband and wife, the king passes away, the son of the king becomes the king, and the minute the son of the king becomes the king, the woman he was in love with immediately becomes the queen. Everything the girl becomes is the result of the love the king beholds her with.

As I read you the words of Paul in Romans chapter 8, two verses and to me, two of the most intimately, spiritually romantic verses in the Bible. I want you to receive these words because you are the nearly nameless little girl, and so am I. I want you to receive these words.

Paul, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, is writing these words that we're about to read, saying, I was once her, I was once the nearly nameless girl, but the son of the king fell in love with me and showed his love for me. And listen to the words he writes about the love of the king. And I am convinced that nothing, no thing can ever separate us from God's love.

Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow. Not even the powers of hell can separate us from God's love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below.

Indeed, no thing in all of creation will ever be able to separate you from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus, our Lord. What? I'm the nearly nameless little girl, but the king fell in love with me.

The son of the king fell in love with me. And everything I have become and am becoming doesn't come down to the nearly nameless little girl. Everything I am and everything I'm becoming comes down to the love with which the kings behold me with.

This is who you are. You cannot take the bait and try to be what everyone says you are. You are the beloved of God.

God loves you the way a mother loves a newborn baby she has waited years to receive. I'm trying to illustrate this. I remember one day, I was just talking with the Lord, and I was going through some identity stuff, going through some work stuff, and kind of taking the bait that I was what I did, and on good days when I was doing a lot, I felt like I was a lot, and on days where I was not doing a lot, I felt less than everyone else.

And I remember saying to the Lord, Why do you love me? Such a bold question. And to be honest, I thought the Lord was going to respond saying this, giving some long list of all His favorite things about me.

Well, Preston, I love you because of this, and I love you because yesterday you did this, and I love you because a month ago you gave me this, and I love you because this, and because you are this, and you did this, and people call you this. I thought I was going to get a laundry list of all of His favorite things about me when I said, why do you love me? And I will never forget the answer He gave me.

I love you because I love you.

Do you know how many times, in a conversation with the Lord, I've asked some kind of question, and the answer he gives seems so simple, but the profundity, profundity with which it hits my soul, well beyond my mind, is indescribable. This was one such moment. Preston, I love you because I love you.

Do you know how freeing that was? For a boy who was trying to earn his love, well, I love you when you do this. I love you because you did that.

He took all of that off the table and said, you know, I'm gonna take all of your striving away from you because you are trying to earn something I have already showered you with. I love you because I love you.

He loves you because he loves you.

Build your identity, your understanding of yourself on that, you are.

You Don't get overwhelmed with the fact that God loves you. Get overwhelmed by the measure with which He loves you.

Moses said, who should I tell them sent me? And God so profoundly and powerfully says, tell them I am that I am. Sent you.

This is kind of a similar type response. You want to know why I love you? Because I love you.

Why do you love me so much? Because I love you.”

Build your understanding of yourself on the love God has for you. And I am telling you right now, you may be able to survive any storm, because the rest of it just doesn't matter. Nothing ever will make you feel what his love makes you feel.

I could get a billion compliments from man, and it will pale in comparison to one I love you from him.

Build on that. Here's the next thing that you should build your identity upon. To combat building your identity on what you do, build it on this, you're his child.

You're not just loved, you are loved as his child, if you are a believer in Jesus. 1 John 3 verse 1, See how very much our Father loves us? For he, God, calls us his children.

That is what I am. That is what you are. My favorite thing, if you were to catch me on the street and ask me, Preston, what's your favorite thing to be called by a human on this earth?

You might think, because of the way I talk about my wife, that my favorite thing to be called on the earth by a human is babe. Which is what she typically calls me, babe.

I don't fully understand why, but my favorite thing to be called by a human on this earth is daddy.

And my favorite thing to be called by God is son. Romans 8 verses 14, 15, 16 say, For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. So you have not received the Spirit that makes you fearful slaves.

Instead, you received God's Spirit when He adopted you as His own children. Now, we get to call Him Abba. Daddy is what that means.

Abba in Hebrew, Father. For His Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God's children. Don't you just love that one of the reasons God has given us His Holy Spirit to dwell on the inside of us is to shut up the lies of the enemy when the enemy says, You're an orphan.

“No one loves you. Don't you love that one of the biggest reasons God gives us His Spirit to dwell within us is to join with our spirit and say, That's a lie. You are a child.

You are a son. You are a daughter of God Most High. I will not, the Holy Spirit says, settle for these lies.

You are His daughter. You are His son. And I think kind of Preston's paraphrase of this passage is the Holy Spirit says, And Preston, one of his favorite things to be called is a daddy.

Which means, out of all the things he could call you, out of all the things people on this earth call me, pastor, friend, mentor, big brother, nephew, cousin, board member, all the names, Preston God's favorite thing to call you. His son. This last week, as of filming this, we adopted a five-year-old that from time to time I talk about.

His name is Maxon, and he's five and a half, and we've raised him for over three of his five and a half years. And finally became legal. We did our best.

“We had him two different times. We took care of him in the early days and sent him back to his mother. And just unfortunately, things weren't able to work out.

And so rather than see Maxon go into the system, we sensed very clearly the Lord saying, You're to adopt him. And I've been processing for the last week. Like I've known this was coming.

And it wasn't until I was preparing for this that something really hit me hardcore. Because I mean, I've had this process has taken a year. So I've had lots of time to process a lot of things.

And Maxon's been calling me daddy for a long time. And so that's not new.

But when the judge in that room said, with legal authority, it's my privilege to introduce for the very first time Maxon David Morrison. And then I was studying for this. A week later, I realized, that even though Maxon has been calling me daddy for the last couple years, it wasn't until the judge made that declaration.

You. That I can officially call him my son.

“And that word, I have two other sons. That word means something altogether different to me now, after the adoption.

And it's like when I got studying this, for this teaching, when I got the revelation from the Lord, that one of his favorite things to be called by me is daddy, according to Romans 8. But the other side of the coin is that means one of the, if not the most favorite thing he ever calls me is son. Son.

Build your life on that. Build your understanding of you on that. You're his child.

You can call me all kinds of names. After my message on tongues, I got called a few names. A confused child of Satan was my favorite one.

You can call me all kinds of names. But as long as he calls me son, I really don't care what you call me. Why?”

Because my life isn't built on you or what you call me or how you see me. My life is built on him. And he calls me son.

Here's the next thing. And I know we're spending a long time. This is gonna be a longer episode, and we're gonna hit 90 minutes.

And I know some of you aren't gonna make it all the way. But those of you who've been struggling with this, you'll probably come back to this one a few times to combat the lies of the enemy. Here's something else that you are.

You're a branch. John 15, 5, Jesus says, I'm the vine, you are the branches. Those who remain in me and I in him will produce much fruit, for apart from me, you can do nothing.

Listen to me. No good thing I ever do will ever be because of me. Let me say it for you.

No good thing you ever do on your job, on the field. No good thing you ever do will ever be because of you. The pressure isn't on me to perform when only God can produce the fruit.

So listen, you need to settle in. And don't build your whole life and your understanding of yourself on your believing the lie that the fruit produced in your life is produced by you. No, I'm just a branch.

You know how much better I sleep when I just am mindful? I'm just a branch. These episodes, you know, if I, as this thing is growing, do you know how much pressure I would feel to keep up with the growth and try and do more?

If I thought I was responsible for producing the fruit, can you even wrap your mind around how much stress I would live with? I'm just a branch.

In the hands of a mighty God. I'm a branch connected to the vine. That's what I am.

And every bit of fruit produced through my life is because of Him, not because of me. Build your understanding of you on that. You are not what you do.

Everything you do as a believer in Jesus is the Spirit of God doing something great through you. Every good thing you do is because He is at work in you, and He is moving through you. Which brings us to the last thing in this part of the conversation.

You're His workmanship. Not only are you not what you do, you're His workmanship. So this is a continuation of what I just told you.

Ephesians 2 verse 10 says for you, I'm personalizing it, are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that you should walk in them. Okay, if you tend to get cocky when you do something good, I just, I want to kind of burst your balloon sweetly just a little bit. Everything you do well is because you were created for it.

You compare yourself to other people who don't do what you do as well as you. And if your life is built on that, let me tell you what you experience a lot of, insecurity. If you live with a lot of comparison, you drown in a lot of insecurity.

You're drowning in it. Okay, if you do something well, everything I do well, you say, man, Preston, I love the way you preach. Yeah, I was created for it.

And the Creator is doing it through me. Don't give me the credit. It's all him.

In the same way, don't give yourself credit. It's all him. Okay, the next thing I told you not to build your life on, don't, you cannot build your identity on what you have.

All right? So how do we combat that? You build your identity, your understanding of yourself on this, not by what you have, but on this, you are paid for.

You are not what you have paid for. You are what was paid for you. 1 Peter 1 verses 18, 19, and 20 say, For you know that God paid a ransom to save you from the empty life you inherited from your ancestors.

There's that where I came from thing. And it was not paid with mere gold or silver, which loses their value. Everyone is so impressed with gold or silver.”

Peter's saying by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the price I was paid, ain't no gold or silver. It was the precious blood of Christ, the sinless, spotless lamb of God. God chose you.

He chose Jesus as your ransom, long before the world began. But now in these last days, He's been revealed for your sake. The picture I want to give you, that hopefully will help you understand, because if you kind of define yourself by what you have, which is so shaky at best, not even in storms, but especially in storms, if you notice when big storms come, everybody starts freaking out about their stuff.

They lose their job. I can't have this anymore. We got to sell this anymore.

When our identity is built on what we have, that's what life looks like. Anytime we lose something, we feel like we've lost value. Let me give you a picture of this.

I want you to imagine that you have a used car. This car has 420,000 miles on it. It's over 30 years old.

“It's an absolute piece of garbage that's been sitting in your cul-de-sac for a really long time. You're hard up on cash, so you decide, you know what? Even if I just get a hundred bucks for this car, I'm going to put it up for sale.

And somebody comes one day to your front door, knocks on the door. They see the car with the for sale sign in the cul-de-sac. Knock, knock, knock.

You open the door. This is a very well dressed person with a very nice car in your driveway, the nicest car you have ever seen or ever will see. And they have a driver driving the car for them.

And you say, can I help you? Yes. I saw the vehicle in this cul-de-sac is up for sale.

Is this car belonging to you? And you say, yeah, it's a piece of garbage. I know.

And the well dressed man says, no, no, no. That's your car. And it's for sale.

And you say, yeah, it is. I'd like to buy this car. Listen, sir, I just kind of put this thing up for sale because I need a little bit of cash, but I'm not going to lie to you.

It needs a brand new transmission. Engine's garbage. I literally super glued the bumper on.

No, no, no. I cannot just take this vehicle from you. I have actually been looking for this car for 20 plus years, and this is the first time I have found one, and I must buy this car.

So you say, okay, well, I put it up for $100, and the well-dressed man says, absolutely not. Nope, I will not pay $100 for this car.

Well, how much do you want to pay for it? He starts writing on a check. He pulls out, I'm willing to pay this.

And you look at the check, and it says $321 billion.

You think it's a joke. Okay, I get it, it's a piece of garbage, just take it, the man is dead serious. Will you expect, will you receive, accept my offer?

The driver gets out of the car, saying, I'd accept the offer if I was you. And you say to the driver, is this for real? And the driver says, it's for real.

Do you understand that you're the 30 plus old vehicle? That scripture says, your best attempt at righteousness is just a beat up, broken down, over 30 year old car with 420,000 miles on it, a busted up engine, a glued on bumper. It's a hot mess.

Your best attempt at righteousness is that. But God is so in love with you, that when no one was willing to pay $100 for the car, you, he paid the immeasurable price. Question, why would the over 30 year old vehicle ever brag about itself?

There's nothing the piece of junk in its flesh can brag about. But do you know what that broke down piece of junk can celebrate? The price someone was willing to pay for it, you, my friend.

We're in an auction where the highest price ever paid for anything was paid for you. Build your understanding of you on that. Without him, broke down, beat up, over 30-year-old piece of junk, with him, the elephant becomes an airplane and a mighty flying one at that.

The next thing on the list of things that we couldn't build our life on was where we come from. And I'm not going to spend a ton of time here, but I'm going to hit these hard, okay? If you are someone who struggles with feeling like an orphan because of something you came out of, a family of origin that you grew up in, maybe they were very distant from God or the sin that was normal in the family you grew up in was just grotesque, you're going to really enjoy understanding what the Bible says about you.

Not only are you not where you come from, you are God's heir. Galatians 4 verse 7 says, Now as a believer, you are no longer a slave, but God's own child. And since you are his child, God has made you his heir.

A father who loves his child is a father who leaves an inheritance for his child based on the measure of love he has for his child. Did you know that as a child of God, you are an heir of God? What does that mean?

That the God of the universe established an inheritance for you.

But it gets even better than that. You're not just any old heir. You're a co-heir.

Romans chapter 8 verse 17, And if we are his children, then we are his heirs. Now watch, heirs of God and joint or co-heirs with Christ. You are a co-heir.

What does that mean Preston? I don't even understand. Hebrews chapter 1 verse 2 says, God promised everything to the Son as an inheritance.

Everything. Everything is the inheritance of the Son of God. And the Bible says, The inheritance the Father gave Jesus is the inheritance God gives you.

“Now, before you get all excited about a bunch of stuff, it's way better than a bunch of stuff. We're not just talking about how much money is my inheritance. Oh, it's way better than money.

How many mansions do I inherit in heaven? Oh, it's way better than mansions in heaven. You want to know what the best part of the inheritance of a co-heir of Christ is?

What is it that the Son got from the Father that was more valuable than anything in heaven and on earth? Here's the answer. The Son inherited all of the Father.

God Himself is the inheritance of His children. How about them apples? Just imagine getting to heaven, and on day one, God shows you all this stuff.

This is your inheritance. This is it. Look at it.

Look at it all. It's going to take you eternity to even see it all. You're never going to come to the end of it.

This is your inheritance, and you're all jacked up. And then He looks you in the eyes and He says, You want me to tell you the best part?

You get all of me.”

“I withhold none of myself from you forever. You get all of me.

Imagine the God of the Universe saying that to you. Yeah, thanks for the stuff, and I'm not minimizing whatever blessings and rewards God bestows upon you or me. On that day, I can't wait to receive the fullness of my inheritance, which is the fullness of himself.

God himself is the inheritance of his children. Build your identity, your understanding of you on that. The God of the Universe thinks so highly of you that he established your inheritance that you will receive in its fullness for eternity and the inheritance is not just all things.

The inheritance is all of him.

Talk about combating the lie the enemy brings. God's distant. God's hiding himself from you.

I'm his child, and if I'm his child, I'm his heir. And if I am his heir, I am a co-heir with Christ. And I don't just receive everything as my inheritance.”

“I receive all of him, and so do you. Here's the next thing, and we're almost done. I told you you can't build your understanding of yourself on who you know.

We're going to trump the whole name dropping thing, the insecurity of, oh, I know this person, and it's all about who you know more than what you know. Okay, here's how you combat all that trash. You build your understanding of yourself on this principle of Scripture.

You are a temple. You are a temple. 1 Corinthians 6.19 Don't you realize, speaking to believers, that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God?

When I was preparing for this, I just kind of heard these words related to this part of the conversation. You are not a guest house, a vacation house, or a house flip. You are a primary and preferred residence of the Spirit of the Living God.

How about them apples? You're not some every once in a while guest house that he comes and visits. You're not some project that he's trying to fix up and then get rid of.

You are a preferred, a preferred residence of the Spirit of the Living God. Here's another way to say it. God is so obsessed with you that you can never get him to leave you.

What does David say in Psalm 139? Love this chapter. I can never escape from your spirit.

I can never get away from your presence. This is talking about the obsession of God for you. If I go up to heaven, you're there.

If I go down to the grave, you're there. If I ride the wings of the morning, if I dwell by the farthest oceans, even there your hand will guide me and your strength will support me. I could ask the darkness to hide me and the light around me to become night, but even in darkness, I cannot hide from you.

God is so obsessed with you that you, as his child, can never ever get him to get away from you. Build your understanding of yourself on that.

It's not just who he says I am. It's the promise he made to me. It's the promise he's made to you.

I will never leave you or forsake you. Preston, you couldn't get me. You couldn't pay me.

Nobody could pay me enough money. To ever leave your side, I promise to never leave you or forsake you.

Why would we be walking around talking, bragging? Oh, I know, so-and-so. Oh, I used to play basketball in high school against so-and-so.

Oh, yeah. I'm friends with her, and she's doing all this. And him, he's known for all this.

I know people. Please. Please.

I'm a temple.

I'm a temple of God Most High. Everywhere I go, He is. He is so obsessed with me.

He ain't ever going to leave me.

Build your understanding of you on that. You are never alone. You will never be alone.

If everyone you know deserts you, you are not deserted.

The Spirit of God has taken residence inside it. Every believer in Jesus.

Build your understanding of you on that. Then here is the last one I told you. You cannot build your understanding of you on how well you are known.

Fame, dog. You can't build your identity on fame. My Lord.

It is. It is a fickle pickle, people. How do you combat this?

You build your understanding of you on this principle in Scripture. You are fully known. 1 Corinthians 8 verse 3.

But if anyone loves God, this one is known by him. I know we're covering a lot of ground, and this isn't going to be for everybody, maybe. But you get to this part.

You need to understand this. We got a bunch of people with social media and how they dress and what they do, just trying to get the attention of man with a goal. This is the thought.

If I can be noticed by man, maybe I can be known by man. Everybody was created with the desire to be known. Isn't it intriguing that in the Old Testament, that when it would describe a husband and wife going in to have sex, that it would use the word known, and so-and-so knew his wife, and they conceived this child.

It was talking about having sex. Here's the thought. Why do so many people have a desire to be known sexually outside the boundaries set by God?

Have you ever thought about this? I think it's because they don't understand how known they are within an intimate relationship with God.

Every human is created with a desire to be known, but there is no better feeling than being known fully, not known famously, known fully by the God of the universe. Psalm 139, verses 1-6, David said, Oh Lord, you've examined my heart, and you know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up.

You know my thoughts even when I'm far away. You see me. How many people run around right now?

“I just want to be seen. Do you see me? David says, God, you see me when I travel and when I rest at home.

When nobody else can see me, you see me. You know everything I do. You know what I'm going to say even before I say it, Lord.

You go before me and you follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge.

These first five verses, such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand. Here's what David teaches us. The knowledge of David's known-ness was far too wonderful a knowledge for David to ever truly know.

If you're chasing, being noticed by man, it's a simple evidence you don't understand how known you are by God.

I'm telling you, I got such a big burden for this entire teaching, because the picture I felt I got from the Lord was people who are just drowning in the storm, because their house is built on all the wrong things. You're not doing yourself any favors by building your life and your understanding of who you are on everything the world says. It's never going to work”

It's never going to work. Let me speak to the young woman who's thinking about tonight, about going to give her boyfriend the gift of her virginity. Because she's been wrestling with some stuff from her family of origin, specifically related to men.

And she thinks the only way she can truly be noticed by this boyfriend is to seemingly be known by him in a way she's never been known by another man before. Sweetheart, can I just tell you? It ain't going to work.

I can't stop you from doing it, but I can tell you, it's not going to provide what you're searching for. If you were a child of God, you are fully known, and no man on this planet can know you the way your Creator knows you.

Don't go. Stay home tonight. Embask in the revelation of who God says you really are.

It doesn't matter what that boy is saying about you. As we wrap up this episode, I'm going to be praying, because you represent all of us, any of us who are chasing, willing to do anything just to get a little something that makes us feel like more of a someone. None of it in the world will work.

I want to pray over all of us, but especially those of us who are up under it right now and the storms pounding on the house. Spirit of the Living God, thank you for the Word of God. Oh, what a foundation it gives us, no matter how raging the seas get, no matter how violent the winds become, no matter how terrifying the storm is.

When we build our lives, when we build our understanding of who we are on you, storms, schmorms, no storm can knock it down. Holy Spirit, I pray over every one of my brothers and sisters, especially those whom the enemy is picking on. With his lies, would you shut up the lies of the enemy?

And would you do so by drowning out his lies with your truth, which comes from the Word of God?

Amen. I love you so much. I know this was a longer one.

I had some fun with this one, and it may take, you may have to digest this in two different settings, maybe three. Work your way through it slowly. I love you so much, but trust and believe my love for you pales in comparison to his love for you.

Build your life, your understanding of you on him and nothing else. I love you so much. I'll see you next time.

[leonsrightarm]

books i read in june!

I Am a Cat by Soseki Natsume - literally has been sitting on my bookshelf for about 15 years and i have no excuse for not finishing it until now because i've read the first 50 pages at least five times and loved it every one of those times. anyway i love this book and i definitely recommend it. even though it was written in and about the meiji era, it's really timeless.

A Scanner Darkly by PKD - another one that's been sitting on my shelf for a few years. another really good one. i was gonna say that i think the feeling of being estranged not only from yourself but also from others and, more painfully, from others' perception of yourself is probably a unifying human experience but this may be one of those 'your experiences are not universal' moments. there was a passage that reminded me a lot of the wind up bird chronicle and the experience of the well but i didn't mark it like an idiot and now i can't find it. but i do think they unexpectedly have a lot in common on an existential level.

Qiang Jin Jiu Vol. 1 by Tang Jiuqing - my beloved...

Society and the Supernatural in Song China by Edward L Davis - really, really interesting although i might be too dumb to understand the last chapter. i basically get the concept of a pluralistic religious subculture being resistant to centralization and subsequently government control but the rest of it truly lost me....... oh well.... i'll figure it out once i've read enough probably... stay humble lmao...

How to Sell a Haunted House by Grady Hendrix - my favorite of his books that i've read so far. he's really a master of pacing i think. definitely one of those authors whose plots don't necessarily stand up under long contemplation but which grab you and hold you fast in the moment. also the radical puppet collective sounds cool as fuck. where do i sign up.

The Question of Palestine by Edward Said - foundational read on this subject

On Palestine by Noam Chomsky and Ilan Pappe - both deeply disheartening and a source of unexpected hope. the exact same shit has been happening for decades, the exact same playbook and the same rhetoric used to sell it. but on the other hand the massive shift in public perception and the us's attempts to strong arm that perception back under control demonstrates that this can't and won't go on and that something must change.

anyway i don't want to speak too much about palestine here but i really recommend these two books. they're short and easy to understand, even if you don't have a very strong background regarding israel and palestine.

[blondrichclosetwitch]

God about Blond 1/17/17

Om Nama Shivaya.

It’s you, God?

I’m having fear in my heart.

I can feel that Blond is trying to drive me crazy.

It’s true that every single one of those calls that Katie said was from Blond, was from Blond? Katie didn’t catch that the email from Steven Snow was one of Blond’s somehow, i don’t know why she didn’t catch it.

I mean i had him in my phone already, so i guess i just need to insist to talking on the phone, is that what i need to do?

And then Katie will be able to always know.

Ok. that’s what i’ll do. But regardless....i am feeling myself start to break down....and i need help. (starts crying) i need help.

You are telling me to go to the book.

(She reads the passage of the day from a Jesus book from her mom.)

But I’m out of money ( laughs through tears) And i have to take the cat to the vet today. She’s in pain, and i didn’t know it.

Is Blond possessed with darkness?

I’m afraid to ask.....but i will.

Did she miscarry last night?

(long pause)

So the baby is gone.

Was that your doing? (She sighs) Will she leave me alone now? (long pause)

Yeah i hear you.

Is she gonna find You?

Her journey starts now.

She’s gonna have a long journey like i did.

Ohhhh today's tuesday so i read the wrong day (she goes back to the book)

You know i’ve been saying psalm 23 alot. It’s pretty powerful. I think what i’m starting to realize, ..and of course katie has been a real ...bridge..but it’s made me realize...what a powerful protector you are.

And then, i was on the phone with Steel the other night and he told me that when he was 16, his aunt, i think, made him memorize psalm 91 ..so i have that pulled up on my computer. And...i’m starting to realize that...having your presence in my life, even though i can’t explain it to anyone around me...i mean i’m starting to a little bit, you know.

But can i ask you what i should do about her, though?

Random said—i asked him and he said i should text her,..get abrasive, but that’s Random. The death doula’s whole thing was send her with love, and I’m taking a break from her, cause i just think i need to do this alone. And I know she’s bonded to you, and i get that. But i don’t think, i think having my own conversations with my guides is the way to go.

What do you think my next step is? You know i emailed Laurie. Do i just keep silent at this point?

Did Jakk file for divorce? Did they go to the lawyer yesterday?

“Yes they did file for divorce.”

They did. What do you think the next step is?

You want me to go to Lonnie next?

Email him? Tell him about my psychic opening?

Is there anything i’m supposed to—Jakk is hearing these conversations i’m having with him? Because of the connection to Katie.

(from what i understood, because katie was his past-life wife, they were able to communicate) Is he staying in the apartment while the divorce is being finalized?

Does he have a letter at lafayette for me?

( Gets distracted, fucks with phone)

I don’t know what I was looking for , wait what were we talking about? “The letter at Lafayette”

Sorry i didn’t mean to get distracted. Should i go there and get it? ...........

What is the miscarriage....going to do to her? give her a sense of compassion? Make her realize...

So the pregnancy is gone. Like, it’s gone.

Yeah, it’s gone.

Had she already made an insta post about being pregnant? She had?

I wonder if i can see it.

Does he realize she needs to be put into a mental hospital?

I think i understand.

You say that she should ease off though. That she should stop. I feel like it’s gonna be ......yeah, well maybe that’s the sign you’re giving me. I get it. That makes sense. (receiving transmission)

I understand that, you know.....but can we do it in a less stressful way. That’s all i ask. That’s all i’m asking....ok?

I need the stress to calm down.

(End of tape)

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Gifted Chapter 2

here is the latest chapter of my Armand/Daniel/Louis fic

Daniel sends Louis the tapes from the first interview.  With it, he sends a letter.  It’s the sort of old-fashioned thing Louis would like.  The letter isn’t long, but it hits the relevant points; that Daniel has Parkinson’s and his days are numbered, and that he wants to see Louis again before he dies.  He tells him that he wants to redo the old interview, and finally write the book before he loses the ability to do so.  

He sends the letter to Louisiana; Louis is back in his hometown in a brand new house.  Armand has been keeping an eye on him from afar since he left.  Formerly, he had been staying in Rue Royale with Lestat.  They had gotten back together not long after Louis left them.  They’ve broken up and reconciled a few more times since then.  Daniel is fairly sure they’re in their off-again phase, because he gets a letter back from Louis agreeing to come to Dubai.  Lestat would never allow that.

Daniel reads it aloud at the dinner table, where he eats and Armand watches him every night.  He’s explained before that he can experience some human sensation through Daniel’s mind, such as eating, though it’s only a pale imitation.  Daniel thinks he just gets off on it.  

“Dear Daniel,

I’ve been following your career with some interest since we parted ways.  Please allow me to congratulate you on all your successes, those professional and those personally redemptive.  The passage of time has granted me perspective, and I suspect the same might be for you as well.  I have no wish to open old wounds, and I hope you and I can meet as old friends.  I look forward to meeting with you soon.

All affinities,

Louis de Pointe du Lac

P.S: As I know yours aren’t the only eyes that will be reading this, know that I will maintain civility with Armand, as long as he does the same.”

Daniel glances over to Armand.  He’s got his ipad in front of him, but his full attention is on Daniel.  “Well, he still has your number.”

“No, I didn’t need to read your letter; you read it to me.”

Daniel gives him a look.  “Because I know you’d just read it anyway.” 

“And so you spared me the trouble,” Armand says, “This is why you and I work, Daniel.”

Daniel rolls his eyes.  “Whatever you say, babe.”

/

“You’ve grown old, Daniel.”

It’s the first thing Louis says upon seeing Daniel, though he’s smiling fondly when he says it.  It just serves to remind Daniel that Louis is a cunt at heart; he knows exactly what weakness to pinpoint and provoke.  “It’s a sore subject.”

Louis brings him into a brief hug.  It’s nice, if a little awkward.  

Louis looks good.  He’s wearing jeans and a black hoodie, but he’s effortlessly beautiful, like always.  His eyes are the exact shade of green that Daniel remembers.  A warm familiarity settles in Daniel’s chest.  

“Armand is a stubborn bastard,” Louis says, not unkindly.  

“That he is,” Daniel agrees, and puts his hands on his hips.  “You gonna play nice with him?”

Louis smiles.  “Of course, Danny.”

Louis is the only person in the world who calls him Danny.  He usually doesn’t like it, but it’s charming when Louis says it.  It’s like the name belongs in his mouth.  “Come on, let me show you around.”

One of the staff–Daniel can never remember all their names, especially now that he can only see half their face–takes Louis’ bags to the guest room.  He keeps a brown leather messenger bag slung over his arm and follows Daniel.  Daniel gives him the tour, showing him the reading room, the state of the art kitchen, the dining room, the spare room Daniel turned into his office.  

It’s the only messy room in the house.  Daniel refuses to let the housekeepers touch it.  They keep throwing away his notes.  Armand told him it was because he wrote his notes on things like receipts and napkins.  Daniel had explained that he had to jot the thought down while he had it, or he would forget, and so he had to use what was available.  

Armand had suggested that perhaps he should talk to the doctor about his memory problems.  Which had spiraled into a fight about Armand being overbearing regarding his health, which then spiraled into the fight all their fights eventually turn into.  That had in turn resulted in three days of icy silence from Armand, while Daniel failed to provoke him into a fight.

He’s like that lately, unusually careful of him.  Like Daniel is some delicate thing.  He used to be ferocious, he’d give Daniel back as good Daniel gave him.  Because he knew Daniel could handle it.  And he knew when to stop. Usually.  

Daniel’s office is also his own private space; Armand is supposed to knock before coming in.  It’s just like his creepy coffin he used to keep down in the cellar at Night Island.  Daniel had never understood why he wasn’t allowed to see it.  He’d had quite the obsession with the idea for a while in his youth.  What he really wanted was to crawl into it and sleep with Armand while he slept.  Armand would never allow it.  He had explained once that he didn’t want Daniel to see where it was, because then other vampires, enemies of his, could pluck it from his mind.  Daniel thought that was a pretty bullshit excuse.  

Eventually they end up in the living room, Daniel in the armchair and Louis on the couch.  Louis reaches into his bag and pulls out a copy of Daniel’s book.  “I didn’t know if I should be offended.  Your book makes no mention of our prior relationship.”

“Yeah, well, what we had going on isn’t easy for most people to digest.”

“Polyamory isn’t so uncommon anymore,” Louis replies. It figures that he’d use the proper word for it and everything.  

“I didn’t think you’d like it,” Daniel admits, “me making our private thing public.”

He licks his lips and continues, “I thought you’d like it better if it was just ours.”

Louis’ posture relaxes a little and he smiles.  “I do like it better.”

Daniel finds himself smiling back for no reason at all. It’s been decades, but he’s getting the butterflies just like he did when he was a dumb kid meeting Louis for the first time.  “Good,” he says, unable to think of a clever thing to say.  He clears his throat.  “Anyway, did you want to crash or get started?”

“Let’s get started.”

Daniel sets up his recording equipment.  He may actually write this book.  Not to publish it–Armand would give him hell–but to leave to Louis.  It might help him to reflect.  It had to be hard to remember things after so many years.  It could be a comfort in the decades to come.  And hell, maybe Daniel wanted him to have something to remember him by.

“So, Mr. du Lac, how long have you been dead?”

[yellowhearther0]

I know I messed up bc this isnt where I left off but oh well happy reading answer the two anons I DARE YOU

The pair start making their way through the hallways of the dragon's dark and spooky keep. Shrek is wary, while Donkey is downright terrified. Only an occasional torch lights the way. The passages are littered with bones, armor, and weapons, presumably belonging to the many unsuccessful knights who tried to rescue the princess.

DONKEY: You afraid?

SHREK: No. But...SHHHHHH. (Shushes Donkey)

DONKEY: Oh, good. Me neither. (Get spooked and gasps) 'Cause there's nothin' wrong with bein' afraid. Fear's a sensible response to an unfamiliar situation. Unfamiliar dangerous situation, I might add. With a dragon that breathes fire and eats knights and breathes fire. It sure doesn't mean you're a coward if you're a little scared. I sure as heck ain't no coward. I know that.

Donkey crashes into a pile of knight remains, knocking over a skeleton whose helmet lands on Donkey's head. The skeleton head falls off and Donkey gasps.

SHREK: Donkey, two things, okay? Shut. Up. Now go over there and see if you can find any stairs (Grabs the helmet and puts it on).

DONKEY: Stairs? I thought we was lookin' for the princess.

SHREK: (Picking up pieces of armor) The princess will be up the stairs in the highest room in the tallest tower.

DONKEY: What makes you think she'll be there?

SHREK: I read it in a book once. (walks off)

DONKEY: Cool. You handle the dragon. I'll handle the stairs. I'll find those stairs. I'll whip their butt too. Those stairs won't know which way they're goin'.

Shrek, now disguised as a knight in shining armor walks off further into the castle. Donkey wanders off in the opposite direction, still talking to himself, and pushes his way through a giant set of doors.

DONKEY: I'm gonna take drastic steps. Kick it to the curb. Don't mess with me. I'm the stair master. I've mastered the stairs. I wish I had a step right here. I'd step all over it.

Behind a broken wall, a giant eye opens to see an unaware Donkey. Elsewhere, Shrek spots a light in the window of a tower.

SHREK: Oh! At least we know where the princess is, but where's the...

DONKEY: Dragon! Ahhhhhh!

Donkey screams and takes off running, narrowly dodging the dragon's fiery breath. The dragon chases after Donkey, stomping on the pile of knight remains in its way. Shrek turns around to see Donkey barreling towards him with the dragon close behind him.

SHREK: Donkey, look out!

Shrek manages to grab Donkey out of the way just as the dragon breathes another fireball. Donkey drops to the floor to avoid another fireball, which manages to singe the tuft of his tail. The dragon is just about to eat Donkey when Shrek grabs ahold of its tail.

SHREK: Got ya!

The dragon begins to swing its tail back and forth with Shrek still holding on, then launces him into the air. Shrek crashes through the roof of the tallest tower and into Fiona's room. Fiona wakes up and looks at him lying on the floor unconscious. The dragon now focuses its attention on Donkey, breathing fire at him and forcing him onto a stone bridge. The dragon knocks down portions of the bridge until Donkey is left staying on a lone pillar.

DONKEY: No. Oh, no, No! (the dragon growls) Oh, what large teeth you have! (the dragon roars) I mean white, sparkling teeth!

The dragon pauses, looks at him inquisitively, and then smiles. Donkey might just flatter his way out of becoming dragon food.

DONKEY: I know you probably hear this all time from your food, but you must bleach, 'cause that is one dazzling smile you got there. Do I detect a hint of minty freshness?

The dragon appears to be flattered by Donkey's compliments.

DONKEY: And you know what else? You know what else? You're-- You're--

The dragon leans forward and gazes at Donkey, revealing its long eyelashes and lipsticked mouth. Suddenly it was all clear to Donkey.

DONKEY: --a girl dragon! Oh, sure! I mean, of course you're a girl dragon. You're just reeking of feminine beauty.

The dragon flutters her eyes at him.

DONKEY: What's the matter with you? You got something in your eye?

Dragon blows a heart-shaped smoke ring at Donkey.

DONKEY: Ohh. Oh. Oh. Man, I'd really love to stay, but you know, I'm, uh...(coughs) I'm an asthmatic, and I don't know if it'd work out if you're gonna blow smoke rings and stuff. Shrek!

Dragon picks him up by the tail in her mouth and happily carries him off.

DONKEY: No! Shrek! Shrek! Shrek!

FIONA'S TOWER - INTERIOR

Shrek groans as he gets up off the floor and brushes debris off himself. His back is to a Princess Fiona, laying upright on the bed near the window. Though a bit startled, she is ecstatic to see her knight-in-shining armor. She straightens her dress, lays back down, and then quickly reaches over for bouquet of flowers off the side table. She lays back down and pretends to be asleep, clutching the bouquet to her breast. Shrek turns, takes note of the princess and walks across the room over to her. He bends down over Fiona and she puckers her lips. Shrek takes her by the shoulders and forcefully shakes her.

FIONA: Wha...Wha...

SHREK: Wake up!

FIONA: What?!

SHREK: Are you Princess Fiona?

FIONA: I am... (smiling) awaiting a knight so bold as to rescue me.

SHREK: Ah, that's nice. Now let's go!

Shrek turns to leave and Fiona quickly sits upright.

FIONA: But wait, Sir Knight! This be-ith our first meeting. Should it not be a wonderful, romantic moment?

She tosses the bouquet and lays back down, swooning.

SHREK: Yeah, sorry, lady. There's no time.

Shrek walks back, yanks Fiona's arm. and hauls her out of bed and towards the door.

FIONA: Hey, wait. What are you doing? You know, you should sweep me off my feet out yonder window and down a rope onto your valiant steed.

Shrek yanks on the door handle only for it to snap off.

SHREK: You've had a lot of time to plan this, haven't you?

FIONA: Mm-hmm.

Fiona screams as Shrek suddenly smashes the door down with his shoulder, still holding onto her arm. He rushes down the tower's staircase with Fiona in tow and grabs a torch.

FIONA: But we have to savor this moment! You could recite an epic poem for me.

DRAGON'S KEEP - INTERIOR

Shrek and Fiona cross the bridge connecting the tallest tower to the rest of the castle.

FIONA: A ballad? A sonnet! A limerick? Or something!

Fiona pulls her arm from Shrek's grip. They stop for a moment as Shrek figures out which direction to go.

SHREK: I don't think so.

FIONA: Well, can I at least know the name of my champion?

SHREK: Uh, Shrek.

FIONA: Sir Shrek.

She smiles, clears her throat, and holds out a handkerchief.

FIONA: I pray that you take this favour as a token of my gratitude.

SHREK: Thanks!

Shrek regards the handkerchief curiously and wipes off his sooty face with it, blackening it. He hands it back to an appalled Fiona, but before she can react, they are startled by the dragon's roar and she drops it to the floor.

FIONA: You didn't slay the dragon?!

SHREK: It's on my to-do list, now come on!

Shrek grabs Fiona once again and takes off running towards the direction of the dragon's roar.

FIONA: But this isn't right! You were meant to charge in, sword drawn, banner flying. That's what all the other knights did!

SHREK: Yeah, right before they burst into flames!

He gestures at the skeleton of a knight laying against the wall, a charred outline of a man burned into the stone behind it.

FIONA: That's not the point! Ugh!

Fiona pulls her arm free from Shrek and stops running. Shrek pauses to look around and heads for a set of wooden doors.

FIONA: Wait--where are you going? The exit's over there!

She points her arm to her left and Shrek turns around.

SHREK: Well, I have to save my ass.

FIONA: Ugh. What kind of knight are you?

SHREK: One of a kind.

THRONE ROOM

Shrek quietly pushes open the doors, stepping out onto a balcony of large spacious room. In the center of the room, Dragon has Donkey wrapped up on her tail. Dragon sits on a floor littered with a horde of gold coins and jewels.

DONKEY: Slow down. Slow down, baby, please. Look I believe it's healthy to get to know someone over a long period of time. Just, just call me old-fashioned. I don't want to rush into a... a physical relationship. I'm not...not emotionally ready for a commitment of, uh, this, uh - - "magnitude" really is the word I'm looking for. Magnitude.

Dragon gently caresses Donkey with a single claw.

DONKEY: Hey, that is unwanted physical contact. Hey, what are you doing?

Dragon looks up at the chandelier hanging above them and gently lights its candles with her fire breath.

DONKEY: Okay, okay. Let's just back up a little and take this one step at a time. I mean we really should get to know each other first, you know, as friends or maybe even pen pals. Y'know cause I'm on the road a lot, but I just love receiving cards to read --

Shrek jumps off the balcony, grabbing a chain connected to the chandelier. The chain does not hang low enough for him to be able to grab Donkey and he swings over Dragon. The chain swings back and he is left dangling above her.

DONKEY: Oh y'know I'd, I'd really love to stay, but -- (Dragon tugs at Donkey's tail with her mouth)

DONKEY: Hey. hey don't do that! That's my tail! That's my personal tail. You're gonna tear it off. I don't give permission to-- hey! What are you gonna do with that?

Dragon purses her lips and gets ready to kiss Donkey. Shrek looks up and spots that the chain is jammed above him. He starts shaking it to try and relapse it from the pulley. Suddenly the pulley comes loose and Shrek starts falling.

DONKEY: Hey, now. No way. No! No! No, no! No. No, no, no. No! Oh!

Shrek lands on Donkey and bumps him out of Dragon's grasp just as she is about to kiss him, and she instead kisses Shrek's butt. She opens her eyes and roars. Shrek lets go of the chain and the chandelier falls onto her head, which acts as a collar around her neck. She roars again and Shrek and Donkey take off running. They dodge a blast of fire from Dragon. Shrek grabs Donkey in one arm and then grabs Princess Fiona, who has wandered into the room, with the other arm as he runs past her.

DONKEY: Hi, Princess!

FIONA: It talks!

SHREK: Yeah, it's getting him to shut up that's the trick.

They all gasp as Shrek suddenly stops, having reached the end of the balcony Shrek spots a fallen column that has formed a sort of slide. He jumps on it just as Dragon tries to bite them and slides down it. Unfortunately there is a crack in the stone and it hits Shrek right in the groin. His eyes cross and as he reaches the bottom of the slide, he groans and stumbles off. Dragon chases after them, the chain of the chandelier still unraveling. They are chased by Dragon through a large hall, her chain looping itself around multiple stone pillars as Shrek zigzags around them. Dragon ends up in front of them and breathes fire. Shrek dodges the fire and runs away, leaping over several rows of chains. He comes to a halt.

SHREK: Okay, you two, head for the exit! (setting down Donkey and Fiona) I'll take care of the dragon.

Shrek grabs a sword lodged in the floor and sticks it through a link in the chain and deep into the floor. Shrek catches up with Donkey and Fiona, who are waiting near the exit.

SHREK: Run!

They sprint as fast as they can out of the castle and onto the rickety bridge as Dragon breathes a huge fireball behind them. As they reach the middle of the bridge the fire burns the bridge and it snaps in half. They hang onto the bridge as they are swung to the other side. Donkey, unable to grab on, falls off but Shrek catches him by the tail. Fiona screams in terror as Dragon flies over the boiling lava to get them. Suddenly the chandelier jerks Dragon back, the sword having lodged itself into a stone column and getting the chain stuck. The group quickly climbs up to safety. Dragon lets out a defeated cry, then gives a sad whimper.

VOLCANO - EXTERIOR

The first to climb out, Fiona gracefully slides down to the bottom of the volcano hill.

FIONA: You did it! You rescued me! You're amazing.

Behind her Donkey tumbles his way down the hill.

FIONA: You're -- you're wonderful. You're...

She turns to see Shrek slide down the hill and crash into Donkey.

FIONA: A little unorthodox I'll admit. But...thy deed is great, and thine heart is pure. I am eternally in your debt.

DONKEY: Ahem...

FIONA: And where would a brave knight be without his noble steed?

She reaches down, squeezing Donkey's face.

DONKEY: I hope you heard that. She called me a noble steed. She thinks I'm a steed.

Donkey blushes, causing Fiona to chuckle and Shrek to roll his eyes.

FIONA: The battle is won. You may remove your helmet, good Sir Knight.

Donkey gasps and makes eye contact with Shrek.

SHREK: Uh, no.

FIONA: Why not?

SHREK: I...I have helmet hair.

FIONA: Please. I would'st look upon the face of my rescuer.

SHREK: Oh, no, you wouldn't -- st.

FIONA: But, how will you kiss me?

SHREK: What?

Shrek backs away and bumps into a tree stump.

SHREK: (to Donkey) That wasn't in the job description.

DONKEY: Maybe it's a perk! (Suggestively raises his eyebrows)

FIONA: No, it's destiny. Oh, you must know how it goes: A princess locked in a tower and beset by a dragon is rescued by a brave knight, and then they share true love's first kiss.

They both give Fiona a wide-eyed look.

DONKEY: Hmm? With Shrek? You think --who, whoa, wait a sec. You think that Shrek is your true love?

FIONA: Well...yes.

Fiona sheepishly smiles at Shrek. Donkey and Shrek turn to each other and burst out laughing.

DONKEY: You think Shrek is your true love!

FIONA: (Annoyed) What is so funny?

SHREK: Let's just say I'm not your type, okay?

Fiona: Of course, you are. You're my rescuer. Now -- now remove your helmet.

SHREK: Look. I really don't think this is a good idea.

FIONA: Just take off the helmet.

SHREK: I'm not going to.

FIONA: Take it off.

SHREK: No!

FIONA: NOW!

SHREK: Okay! Easy! As you command,,,your Highness.

Shrek takes off his helmet and reveals his ogre self. Fiona looks at him blankly, confused but not frightened. Shrek awkwardly grins.

FIONA: You're...an ogre.

SHREK: Oh, you were expecting Prince Charming?

FIONA: Well --yes, actually! Oh, no. This is all wrong. You're not supposed to be an ogre! (walks off)

SHREK: Princess, I was sent to rescue you by Lord Farquaad, okay? He's the one who wants to marry you.

The mention of this Lord Farquaad prompts Fiona to turn around in surprise.

FIONA: Well then why didn't he come rescue me?

SHREK: Good question. You should ask him that when we get there.

Shrek turns and removes what little armor is still left attached to him.

FIONA: But I have to be rescued by my true love! Not by some ogre and hi...hi...his pet.

DONKEY: Well, so much for noble steed.

SHREK: Look princess you're not making my job any easier.

FIONA: I'm sorry, but your job is not my problem. You can tell Lord Farquaad that if he wants to rescue me properly, I'll be waiting for him right here.

Fiona sits down determinedly on a nearby rock.

SHREK: Hey! I'm no one's messenger boy, all right? (Advancing toward her) I'm a delivery boy.

FIONA: You wouldn't dare.

Shrek picks Fiona up and slings her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

FIONA: Agghh! Put me down! Aggghh!

SHREK: You comin', Donkey?

DONKEY: Oh, yep! I'm right behind ya.

Fiona is now kicking and screaming.

FIONA: Put me down, or you will suffer the consequences! This is not dignified! Put me down!

Fiona smacks Shrek on the back of the head and screams in frustration.

WOODS

Hours have passed and Fiona has calmed down. She hangs limply while Shrek carries her and Donkey walks behind them.

DONKEY: Okay, so here's another question. Say there's a woman that digs you, right, but you don't really like her that way. How do you let her down real easy so her feelings aren't hurt, but you don't get burned to a crisp and eaten? How do you do that?

FIONA: You just tell her she's not your true love. Everyone knows what happens when you find your...

Shrek cuts her off with a deliberate, bouncing readjustment.

FIONA: Hey! The sooner we get to Duloc the better.

DONKEY: Oh you're gonna love it there, Princess. It's beautiful!

FIONA: And what of my groom-to-be? Lord Farquaad? What's he like?

SHREK: Let me put it this way, princess.

Shrek dumps Fiona to the ground unceremoniously and heads to a nearby pond to wash up.

SHREK: Men of Farquaad's stature are in...short supply.

He chuckles and Donkey joins in.

DONKEY: I dunno, Shrek. There are those who think...little of him.

They laugh even harder.

FIONA: Stop it. Stop it, both of you. You're just jealous that you can never measure up to a great ruler like Lord Farquaad.

SHREK: Yeah, well, maybe you're right, princess. But I'll let you do the...measuring...when you see him tomorrow.

FIONA: Tomorrow?

Panic-stricken, Fiona looks back fearfully at the setting sun.

FIONA: It'll take that long? Shouldn't we stop to make camp?

SHREK: No, that'll take longer. We can keep going.

FIONA: But there's....robbers in the woods.

DONKEY: Whoa! Time out, Shrek! Camp is definitely starting to sound good.

SHREK: Hey, come on. I'm scarier than anything we're going to see in this forest.

Fiona jumps in front of Shrek, blocking him.

FIONA: I need to find somewhere to camp-now!

Both Donkey and Shrek's ears lower, taken aback by her outburst.

CLIFFSIDE

A few minutes later, Shrek is rolling a large boulder away from the mouth of a cave.

SHREK: Hey! Over here!

DONKEY: Shrek, we can do better than that. I don't think this is fit for a princess.

Fiona turns her attention away from the setting sun.

FIONA: No, no, it's perfect. It just needs a few homey touches.

SHREK: Homey touches? Like what?

He hears a huge ripping sound and looks over at Fiona, who has torn the bark off of a tree with her bare hands.

FIONA: A door. Well, gentlemen, I bid thee good night.

She enters the cave and puts the bark door up behind her.

DONKEY: You want me to read you a bedtime story? Cause I will.

FIONA: I said good night!

Shrek looks at Donkey for a second and then reaches to move the boulder back in front of the entrance.

DONKEY: Shrek, what are you doing?!

SHREK: (laughs) I just--you know - - Oh, come on. I was just kidding.

CLIFFSIDE - NIGHT

Later that night Shrek and Donkey are sitting around a campfire. They gaze up into the sky as Shrek points out certain star constellations to Donkey.

SHREK: And, uh, that one, that's Throwback, the only ogre to ever spit over three wheat fields.

DONKEY: Right. Yeah. Hey, can you tell my future from these stars?

SHREK: The stars don't tell the future, Donkey. They tell stories. Look, there's Bloodnut the Flatulent. You can guess what he's famous for. (chuckles)

DONKEY: Alright now I know you're making this up.

SHREK: No, look.

Shrek traces the constellation with his finger.

SHREK: There he is, and there's the group of hunters running away from his stench.

DONKEY: Man that ain't nothin' but a bunch of little dots.

SHREK: You know, Donkey, sometimes things are more than they appear. Hmm?

Shrek glances over to see if Donkey understands him, but is met with a blank look.

SHREK: Forget it.

DONKEY: Hey, Shrek, what we gonna do when we get our swamp anyway?

SHREK: Our swamp?

DONKEY: You know, when we're through rescuing the princess and all that stuff.

SHREK: We? Donkey, there's no we. There's no our. There's just me and my swamp. And the first thing I'm gonna do is build a ten-foot wall around my land.

He turns his back to Donkey

DONKEY: You cut me deep, Shrek. You cut me real deep just now.

Donkey walks over to face Shrek.

DONKEY: You know what I think? I think this whole wall thing is just a way to keep somebody out.

SHREK: No, do ya think? (

Shrek turns away again.

DONKEY: Are you hidin' something?

SHREK: Never mind, Donkey.

He lies on his back. Donkey leans over him.

DONKEY: Oh, this is another one of those onion things, isn't it?

SHREK: No, this is one of those "drop it and leave it alone" things!

DONKEY: Why don't you want to talk about it?

SHREK: Why do you want to talk about it? (turns)

DONKEY: Why are you blocking?

SHREK: I'm not blocking! (turns)

DONKEY: Oh, yes, you are.

SHREK: Donkey, I'm warning you...

DONKEY: Who you trying to keep out?

Shrek gets on his feet and faces Donkey.

SHREK: Everyone! Okay?!

DONKEY: Oh, now we're gettin' somewhere.

Unsee by either of them, Fiona was peeking around the cave door, eavesdropping on the conversation.

SHREK: Oh! For the love of Pete!

Shrek walks over to the edge of the cliff and sits down.

DONKEY: Hey what's your problem Shrek? What you got against the whole world anyway, huh?

SHREK: Look, I'm not the one with the problem, okay? It's the world that seems to have a problem with me. People take one look at me and go "Aah! Help! Run! A big, stupid, ugly ogre!" They judge me before they even know me. That's why I'm better off alone.

Hidden in the shadows of the cave, Fiona's eyes were sympathetic. She closes the door. Donkey stares silently at Shrek for a moment and then sits down beside him.

DONKEY: You know what? When we met, I didn't think you was just a big, stupid, ugly ogre.

SHREK: Yeah, I know.

DONKEY: So, uh, are there any donkeys up there?

SHREK: Well, there's, um, Gabby...the Small...and Annoying.

DONKEY: Okay, okay, I see it now. The big shiny one, right there. That one there?

SHREK: That's the moon.

DONKEY: Oh, okay.

DULOC - FARQUAAD'S BEDROOM

Farquaad's room is is filled with items prepared for his wedding, including crowns and wedding outfits for him and Fiona. Mama Bear is now a taxidermized rug. Soft music plays in the background. Farquaad lays in bed with the Magic Mirror set up at the foot of the bed.

FARQUAAD: Again, show me again.

We hear the sound of tape rewinding.

FIONA: Mirror, mirror, show her to me. Show me the princess.

MIRROR: Hmph.

The Mirror reluctantly rewinds and begins to play again from the beginning, displaying the image of Fiona waiting in her tower.

FARQUAAD: Ah...perfect.

Farquaad looks down and pulls the sheet up to cover himself as the covers rise.

CLIFFSIDE - MORNING

Fiona walks out of the cave and glances at Shrek and Donkey who are still sleeping. She wanders off into the woods, marveling at the nature, and begins to sing. A bluebird flies over to join in her song. She hits higher and higher notes and the bird struggles to keep up with her. Fiona hits a high, horrible note that causes the bird to explode. Fiona looks guilty, but she eyes the eggs that the bird left behind. A little later, Fiona is now frying the eggs over the campfire using a rock skillet. Shrek wakes up, smells the foods, and takes note of Fiona. Donkey is talking to himself in his sleep.

DONKEY: Mmm, yeah, you know I like it like that. Come on, baby. I said I like it...

SHREK: Donkey, wake up. (shakes him)

DONKEY: Huh? What?

SHREK: Wake up.

DONKEY: What? (stretches and yawns)

FIONA: Good morning. Uhmm... how do you like your eggs?

DONKEY: Oh, good morning, Princess!

SHREK: What's all this about?

FIONA: You know, we kind of got off to a bad start yesterday and I wanted to make it up to you. I mean, after all, you did rescue me.

Fiona gets up and sets the eggs down in front of them.

SHREK: Uh, thanks.

Donkey sniffs the eggs and licks his lips.

FIONA: Well, eat up. We've got a big day ahead of us.

Fiona walks off, seemingly in a better mood than yesterday.

SHERWOOD FOREST

The three continue their journey back to Duloc though the woods. Shrek lets out a loud belch.

DONKEY: Shrek!

SHREK: What? It's a compliment. Better out than in, I always say. (laughs)

DONKEY: Well, it's no way to behave in front of a princess!

Fiona belches, stopping Shrek and Donkey in their tracks.

FIONA: Thanks.

DONKEY: She's as nasty as you are.

SHREK: (chuckles) You know, you're not exactly what I expected.

FIONA: Well, maybe you shouldn't judge people before you get to know them.

She smiles and then continues walking, singing softly. Suddenly from out of nowhere, a man swings down and swoops Fiona away.

UNKNOWN: La liberte! Hey!

SHREK: Princess!

The princess and the unknown man land on a limb high above in the trees It is none other than Monsieur Hood, also known as Robin Hood. Fiona breaks away from Hood, who has his hand around her waist.

FIONA: Oh! Wait wait--what are you doing?!

MONSIEUR HOOD: Be still, mon cherie, for I am you savior! And I am rescuing you from this green...

Hood brings Fiona's hand to his chest, and then carpets Fiona's arms with kisses as she pulls back in disgust.

MONSIEUR HOOD: ...beast.

His smile is only met with annoyance, which confuses him.

SHREK: Hey! That's my princess! Go find you own!

MONSIEUR HOOD: Please, monster! Can't you see I'm a little busy here?

Fiona gives Hood a one-handed push and jams her finger into his chest.

FIONA: Look, pal, I don't know who you think you are!

MONSIEUR HOOD: Oh! Of course! Oh, how rude. Please let me introduce myself.

He cups his hands and calls into the woods.

MONSIEUR HOOD: Oh, Merry Men! (laughs)

Suddenly an accordion begins to play and the Merrymen pop out from the bushes. They begin to sing along with Monsieur Hood.

MERRYMEN: Ta, dah, dah, dah, whoo.

MONSIEUR HOOD: I steal from the rich and give to the needy.

MERRYMAN: He takes a wee percentage,

MONSIEUR HOOD: But I'm not greedy. I rescue pretty damsels, man, I'm good.

MERRYMEN: What a guy, Monsieur Hood.

MONSIEUR HOOD: Break it down. I like an honest fight and a saucy little maid...

MERRYMEN: What he's basically saying is he likes to get...

MONSIEUR HOOD: Paid! So...When an ogre in the bush grabs a lady by the tush. That's bad.

MERRYMEN: That's bad. That's bad. That's bad!

MONSIEUR HOOD: When a beauty's with a beast it makes me awfully mad!

MERRYMEN: He's mad, he's really, really mad!

Fiona, still up in the tree, looks down. Her expression changes from confusion to horror as Monsieur Hood sings the last line:

MONSIEUR HOOD: I'll take my blade and ram it through your heart, keep your eyes on me, boys 'cause I'm about to start...

Fiona swings down from the tree limb and kicks Monsieur Hood in the head, knocking him unconscious. She lands with a back flip in front of Shrek and Donkey.

FIONA: Man, that was annoying!

Shrek looks at her in admiration.

MERRYMAN: Why, you little-- (

The Merry Man shoots an arrow at Fiona but she ducks out of the way. The arrow flies past her and towards Donkey, who jumps into Shrek's arms to get out of the way. Fiona demonstrates her martial arts skills and easily defeats up every last Merryman. The Merrymen are left on lying on the ground and Fiona walks away. Fiona looks a little embarrassed as she smoothes out her dress and regains her composure.

FIONA: Uh, shall we?

SHREK: Hold the phone.

Taken aback, Shrek drops Donkey and begins walking after Fiona.

SHREK: Oh! Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on now. Where did that come from?

FIONA: What?

SHREK: That! Back there. That was amazing! Where did you learn that?

Fiona just blushes.

FIONA: Well...(laughs) when one lives alone, uh, one has to learn these things in case there's a...there's an arrow in your butt!

Fiona points downwards at a small arrow jutting out of Shrek's behind.

SHREK: What? Oh, would you look at that?

FIONA: Oh, no. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry.

Shrek lightly tugs at the arrow but stops, wincing in pain. Donkey catches up to them.

DONKEY: Why? What's wrong?

FIONA: Shrek's hurt.

DONKEY: Shrek's hurt! Shrek's hurt?!

Donkey, frantic, begins to scamper around hysterically.

DONKEY: Oh, no, Shrek's gonna die!

SHREK: Donkey, I'm okay.

DONKEY: You can't do this to me, Shrek. I'm too young for you to die! Keep your legs elevated! Turn your head and cough! Does anyone know the Heimlich?!

Fiona grabs Donkey's head and pulls it down to her.

FIONA: Donkey! Calm down! If you want to help Shrek, run into the woods and find me a blue flower with red thorns.

DONKEY: Blue flower, red thorns. Okay, I'm on it. Blue flower, red thorns. Don't die Shrek.

Donkey begins to head in a random direction into the forest.

DONKEY: And if you see a long tunnel, stay away from the light!

SHREK & FIONA: Donkey!

DONKEY: Oh, yeah. Right. Blue flower, red thorns. Blue flower, red thorns...

Donkey marches off, still chanting, until he is out of earshot.

SHREK: What are the flowers for?

FIONA: For getting rid of Donkey.

SHREK: Ah...

Shrek's confused look turns into a big grin.

FIONA: Now you hold still, and I'll yank this thing out.

Fiona grabs hold of the arrow and begins to pull. Shrek yelps and jumps away.

SHREK: Ow! Hey! Easy with the yankin'!

FIONA: I'm sorry, but it has to come out.

SHREK: No, it's tender.

As they continue to talk Fiona keeps grabbing after the arrow as Shrek dodges her attempts.

FIONA: Now, hold on.

SHREK: What you're doing is the opposite of help.

FIONA: Don't move.

SHREK: Look, time out.

Shrek puts his entire hand over Fiona's face, stopping her in her tracks.

FIONA: Would you...

She takes Shrek's hand off her face.

FIONA: Okay. What do you propose we do?

SHERWOOD FOREST - ELSEWHERE

Deeper in the woods, Donkey is hurriedly searching for the flower.

DONKEY: Blue flower, red thorns. Blue flower, red thorns. Blue flower, red thorns. This would be so much easier if I wasn't color-blind! Blue flower, red thorns.

Suddenly he hears a far out yell from Shrek.

SHREK: Owww!

DONKEY: Hold on, Shrek! I'm comin'!

Donkey rips a flower off a nearby bush, which happens to be a blue flower with red thorns, and takes off running.

SHERWOOD FOREST - CLEARING

Back in the clearing, Shrek is laying on the ground facedown, while Fiona stands over him, using both hands to try to remove the arrow.

SHREK: Ow! Not good.

FIONA: Okay. N--Okay. I can nearly see it...It's just about...

SHREK: Ow! Ohh!

He rolls over, knocking Fiona off her feet and causing her to land on top of him. For a moment they stare into each other's eyes.

DONKEY: Ahem.

They are both startled by Donkey's interruption. Donkey, with the flower dropped at his feet, gives them a suggestive look.

SHREK: Nothing happened.

Shrek pushes Fiona off him and rolls over to face Donkey.

SHRK: We were just, uh...

DONKEY: Look, if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask, okay?

SHREK Oh, come on! That's the last thing on my mind. The princess here was just--

Fiona quickly rips the arrow out of Shrek's butt with one great pull.

Shrek: Uggghhh!

He turns to look at Fiona, who playfully shakes the arrow back and forth with a coy smile.

SHREK: Ow!

DONKEY: Hey, what's that? (chuckling) That's...is that blood?

Donkey faints and falls into a pile of leaves. Shrek picks him up and throws him over his shoulder, and the three continue on their journey. There is a montage of scenes as the group heads back to Duloc.

The group comes to a river with no path across, though it is clearly shallow enough to walk over. Shrek climbs to the top of a tree, using his weight to cause the tree to bend over the river and form a bridge. Fiona crosses first and lays a hand on Shrek's back when she gets to the other side. Shrek grins and gets up while Donkey is still crossing, launching him back to the other side. In a field, Shrek swats away at a swarm of flies following him. Fiona grabs a nearby spiderweb from a tree branch and runs through the field, swinging it around to catch the bugs. She spins the branch to form a sort of cotton candy, and hands it to Shrek as a treat. As he walks off biting it, she licks her fingers. Shrek catches a frog and blows it up like a balloon to give to Fiona. Fiona catches a snake, blows into its mouth, fashions it into a balloon animal and presents it to Shrek. Fiona starts a playful shoving match with Shrek, with Shrek ultimately flinging her into the bushes. She throws a twig at him as they both laugh, letting go of their balloons. Donkey jumps after them.

WINDMILL - EXTERIOR

After breaking out of the forest, the group arrives onto a small rise where an old, ruined windmill stands. The fields of Duloc stretch out before before, and further in the distance stands the Duloc Castle.

SHREK: There it is, princess. Your future awaits you.

FIONA: That's Duloc?

Fiona stands with her arm on Shrek's, but Donkey butts in-between them. They both shrug at each other.

DONKEY: Yeah, I know. You know, Shrek thinks Lord Farquaad's compensating for something, which I think means he has a really...

Shrek interrupts Donkey by stepping on his foot, causing him to fall to the ground in pain. Fiona gives Shrek a suspicious look.

DONKEY: Oww!

SHREK: Um, I, uh-- I guess we better move on.

FIONA: Sure. But, Shrek? I'm-- I'm worried about Donkey.

SHREK: What?

FIONA: I mean, look at him. He, he doesn't look so good.

Nothing seems to be wrong with Donkey. Shrek smiles knowingly at Fiona.

DONKEY: What are you talking about? I'm fine.

Fiona kneels down and takes Donkey's head in her arms.

FIONA: Well that's what they always say and then...then...then the next thing you know, you're on your back. Dead.

SHREK: You know, she's right. You look awful. Do you want to sit down?

FIONA: Uh, you know, I'll make you some tea.

DONKEY: I didn't want to say nothin', but I got this twinge in my neck, and when I turn my head like this, look.

Donkey sharply leans his head to the side, letting off a loud crack.

DONKEY: Ow! See?

Shrek and Fiona give each happy looks, having made up an excuse to stall for time.

SHREK: Who's hungry? I'll find us some dinner.

FIONA: I'll get the firewood.

Shrek and Fiona both walk off in separate direction

DONKEY: Hey, where you goin'? Oh, man, I can't feel my toes! (looks down and yelps) I don't have any toes! I think I need a hug.

WINDMILL - EXTERIOR - EVENING

Shrek has built a fire and is cooking something on a spit while Fiona eats.

FIONA: Mmm. This is good. This is really good. What is this?

SHREK: Uh, weed rat. Rotisserie style.

FIONA: No kidding. Well, this is delicious.

SHREK: Well, they're also great in stews. Now, I don't mean to brag, but I make a mean weed rat stew.

Fiona smiles, but it quickly fades as she looks off at Duloc in the distance.

FIONA: I guess I'll be dining a little differently tomorrow night.

SHREK: Maybe you can come visit me in the swamp sometime. I'll cook all kind of stuff for you. Swamp toad soup, fish eye tartare -- you name it.

Fiona is now intently looking at Shrek, smiling.

FIONA: Hmmm, I'd like that.

They gaze into each other's eyes longingly.

SHREK: Um...princess?

FIONA: Yes...Shrek?

SHREK: I, um, I was wondering...are you...(sighs) Are you gonna eat that?

Shrek points to her last piece of food. Fiona, expecting a different question, removes the weedrat while Shrek is annoyed by the words that couldn't come out. Fiona hands it to Shrek and he grabs onto her hand. The two slowly lean towards each other. Donkey interrupts the moment.

DONKEY: Man, isn't this romantic? Just look at that sunset.

Shrek and Fiona are both startled out of their moment. Fiona's mood changes and she sits up to abruptly face the sunset.

FIONA: Sunset?! Oh, no! I mean, it's late. I-It's very late.

She begins backing up toward the windmill.

SHREK: What?

DONKEY: Wait a minute. I see what's goin' on here.

Fiona looks at Donkey and freezes with panic.

DONKEY: You're afraid of the dark, aren't you?

FIONA: Yes! Yes, that's it. I'm terrified. You know, I'd better go inside.

She smiles as she turns around to walk up the windmill's steps. She breathes a sigh of relief.

DONKEY: Don't feel bad, Princess. I used to be afraid of the dark, too, until -- Hey, no, wait. I'm still afraid of the dark.

Shrek groans and Fiona chuckles.

FIONA: Good night.

SHREK: Good night.

Fiona goes inside the windmill, gives Shrek a look, and closes the door. Donkey looks at Shrek with a new eye.

DONKEY: Ohh! Now I really see what's goin' on here.

SHREK: Oh, what are you talkin' about?'

Donkey trots over to Shrek as he kneels by the fire and fiddles with one of the spits.

DONKEY: I don't even wanna hear it. Look, I'm an animal, and I got instincts. And I know you two were diggin' on each other. I could feel it.

SHREK: You're crazy. I'm just bringing her back to Farquaad.

DONKEY: Oh, come on, Shrek. Wake up and smell the pheromones. Just go on in and tell her how you feel.

SHREK: I--there's nothing to tell. Besides, even if I did tell her that, well, you know-- and I'm not sayin' I do, 'cause I don't -- she's a princess, and I'm...

DONKEY: An ogre?

SHREK: Yeah. An ogre.

Shrek tosses the spit aside and trudges away,

DONKEY: Hey, where you goin'?

SHREK: To get...more firewood.

Donkey looks suspiciously over at the large pile of firewood already piled up. Shrek sits on the hill and gazes out at Duloc until nightfall.

WINDMILL - EXTERIOR - NIGHT

Donkey opens the door to the windmill and steps in. The abandoned windmill is filed with shadows and cobwebs. All is quiet and Fiona is nowhere to be seen.

DONKEY: Princess? Princess Fiona? Princess, where are you?

A group of birds flocks out the top of the roof, startling Donkey. He continues on.

DONKEY: Princess?

A hand grips the rungs of a ladder.

DONKEY: It's very spooky in here. I ain't playing no games.

Fiona looks at Donkey, cloaked in shadows, from up above on a platform. She tries to sneak away, but a wood plank breaks and she falls down with a crash. She screams and lands on a sack of flour, launching a cloud of flour into the air. Donkey is frozen with fear, unable to tell who the figure is.

DONKEY: Aah!

FIONA: No, no!

DONKEY: No, help!

FIONA: Shh!

An ogress emerges from the cloud of flour, approaching Donkey.

DONKEY: Shrek! Shrek! Shrek!

FIONA: No, it's okay! It's okay!

DONKEY: What did you do with the princess?!

FIONA: Donkey, shh! I'm the princess.

DONKEY: Aah!

FIONA: It's me, in this body.

DONKEY: Oh, my God! You ate the princess. (to her stomach) Can you hear me?

FIONA: Donkey!

DONKEY: (still aimed at her stomach) Listen, keep breathing! I'll get you out of there!

FIONA: No!

DONKEY: Shrek! Shrek! Shrek!

FIONA: (Covering Donkey's mouth) Shh.

DONKEY: (Muffled) Shrek!

FIONA: This is me.

Donkey looks into her eyes as she pets his muzzle, and he calms down.

DONKEY: Princess...? What happened to you? You're, uh...uh...eh...different.

FIONA: I'm ugly, okay?

DONKEY: Well, yeah! Well was it something you ate? 'Cause I told Shrek those rats was a bad idea. You are what you eat, I said. Now--

FIONA: No! I -- I've been this way as long as I can remember.

DONKEY: What do you mean? Look, I ain't never seen you like this before.

FIONA: It only happens when sun goes down.

Fiona leans over a barrel filled with water, looking at her reflection.

FIONA: "By night one way, by day another. This shall be the norm... until you find true love's first kiss... and then take love's true form."

DONKEY: Aww, that's beautiful. I didn't know you wrote poetry.

FIONA: It's a spell. (sigh) When I was a little girl, a witch cast a spell on me. Every night I become this. This horrible, ugly beast!

Fiona smacks her reflection in the water, which splashes water onto Donkey.

FIONA: I was placed in a tower to await the day my true love would rescue me. That's why I have to marry Lord Farquaad tomorrow before the sun sets and he sees me...like this.

She holds her head and begins to cry.

DONKEY: All right, all right. Calm down. Look, it's not that bad. You're not that ugly. Well, ok, I ain't gonna lie. You are ugly. But you only look like this at night. Shrek's ugly 24/7.

FIONA: But Donkey, I'm a princess, and this is not how a princess is meant to look.

DONKEY: Princess, how 'bout if you don't marry Farquaad?

FIONA: I have to. Only my true love's kiss can break the spell.

DONKEY: But, you know, um...you're kind of an ogre. And Shrek...well...you got a lot in common.

FIONA: Shrek?

WINDMILL EXTERIOR

Shrek is walking towards the windmill with a sunflower in his hand, talking to himself.

SHREK: Princess, I-- Uh, how's it going, first of all? Good? Um, good for me too. I'm okay. I saw this flower and thought of you because it's pretty and-- well, I don't really like it but I thought you might like it 'cause you're pretty. But I like you anyway. I'd-- uh, uh...(sighs) I'm in trouble. Okay, here we go.

He walks up to the door and pauses outside when he hears Donkey and Fiona talking.

FIONA: I can't just marry whoever I want. Take a good look at me, Donkey. I mean, really, who can ever love a beast so hideous and ugly? "Princess" and "ugly" don't go together. That's why I can't stay here with Shrek.

Shrek steps back in shock, misunderstanding the conversation's meaning.

FIONA: My only chance to live happily ever after is to marry my true love. Don't you see, Donkey? That's just how it has to be.

Shrek heaves a deep sigh. He throws the flower down and walks away.

WINDMILL INTERIOR

FIONA: It's the only way to break the spell.

DONKEY: Well you at least gotta tell Shrek the truth.

Donkey walks over to the door.

FIONA: No! You can't breathe a word. No one must ever know.

DONKEY: What's the point of being able to talk if you gotta keep secrets?

FIONA: Promise you won't tell. Promise!

DONKEY: All right, all right. I won't tell him. But you should.

Donkey steps outside and talks to himself

DONKEY: I just know before this is over, I'm gonna need a whole lot of serious therapy. Look at my eye twitchin'.

Fiona opens the door and watches him walk away. She looks down and spots the sunflower left by the door. She picks it up and looks around, then heads back inside and closes the door. Donkey falls asleep by the fire outside.

WINDMILL INTERIOR - MORNING

Donkey is asleep. Fiona is still awake, plucking at petals from the sunflower.

FIONA: I tell him, I tell him not. I tell him, I tell him not...

Fiona picks the last petal off the sunflower, smiling.

FIONA: I tell him! Shrek!

She opens the door and steps outside.

FIONA: Shrek! There's something I want...

Fiona looks around for Shrek only to see Donkey sleeping. She sees the rising sun, and as the sun crests the sky, she turns back into a human. She looks up again to see Shrek stomping towards her. She hurries over to him.

FIONA: Shrek! Are you all right?

She puts her hand on his arm, but he nudges it away and walks past her.

SHREK: Perfect! Never been better.

FIONA: I...I don't...there's something I have to tell you.

SHREK: You don't have to tell me anything, princess. I heard enough last night.

FIONA: You heard what I said?

SHREK: Every word.

Shrek sits down on the steps of the windmill and faces Fiona.

FIONA: I thought you'd understand.

SHREK: Oh, I understand. Like you said, "Who could love a hideous, ugly beast?"

FIONA: But I thought that wouldn't matter to you.

SHREK: Yeah? Well, it does.

Fiona looks at him in shock, tears welling in her eyes. Shrek looks past her and spots a group approaching.

SHREK: Ah, right on time. Princess, I've brought you a little something.

Shrek gestures towards the group and Fiona stands with her mouth wide. Farquaad arrives on horseback, appearing taller than usual, along with an escort of guards. Donkey wakes up with a yawn as the guards march by.

DONKEY: What'd I miss? What'd I miss?

One of the guards looms over him and he begins to scurry away, muttering to himself.

DONKEY: Who said that? Couldn't have been the donkey.

Farquaad stops his horse in front of Fiona.

FARQUAAD: Princess Fiona.

SHREK: As promised. Now hand it over.

FARQUAAD: Very well, ogre. The deed to your swamp, cleared out, as agreed. Take it and go before I change my mind.

Shrek snatches the deed out of the hands of a guard and walks away. Fiona is put off by this exchange. She reverts her attention back to the long-awaited Lord Farquaad.

FARQUAAD: Forgive me, Princess, for startling you, but you startled me--for I have never seen such a radiant beauty before. I am Lord Farquaad.

FIONA: Lord Farquaad? Oh, no, no. Forgive me, my lord, for I was just saying a short...

Farquaad snaps his finger and is lifted off his horse by his guards. Left behind on the horse is a large set of gauntlets and a pair of leg extenders that reached down to the stirrups, which made him look so tall on the saddle. and set down in front of her. Standing at the height of four and a half feet, he is much shorter than Fiona. Her look turns from nervousness to bemusement, and she awkwardly smiles.

FIONA:...farewell.

FARQUAAD: Oh, that is so sweet. You don't have to waste good manners on the ogre. It's not like it has feelings.

FIONA: No, you're right. It doesn't.

Shrek, still standing nearby with his back turned, is hurt by the comment. Donkey watches this exchange with a curious look on his face.

FARQUAAD: Princess Fiona, beautiful, fair, flawless Fiona. I ask your hand in marriage.

Farquaad gets down on one knee and takes Fiona's hand, pulling her down sharply.

FARQUAAD: Will you be the perfect bride for the perfect groom?

Fiona makes eye contact with Shrek before he turns away. Her sad look turns to bitterness.

FIONA: Lord Farquaad, I accept. Nothing would make--

FARQUAAD: Excellent! I'll start the plans, for tomorrow we wed!

FIONA: No!

Shrek spins back around with a hopeful look on his face while Fiona tries to regain her composure.

FIONA: I mean--ah, why wait? Let's get married today. Before sunset.

Shrek scowls and turns away.

FARQUAAD: Oh, anxious, are we? You're right. The sooner, the better. There's so much to do!

Farquaad snaps his fingers and is lifted onto his horse by his guard. The guard offers Fiona assistance, but she looks up onto the saddle on her own.

FARQUAAD: There's the caterer, the cake, the band, the guest list. Captain, round up some guests!

Fiona, Farquaad, and his guards set off towards Duloc. Fiona gives Shrek one last spiteful look.

FIONA: Fare thee well, ogre.

Donkey catches up to Shrek as he his walking away.

DONKEY: Shrek, what are you doing? You're letting her get away!

SHREK: Yeah? So what?

DONKEY: Shrek there's something about her you don't know. Look, I-- I talked to her last night... She's --

SHREK: Yeah I know you talked to her last night. You're great pals, aren't ya? Now, if you two are such good friends, why don't you follow her home?!

DONKEY: But Shrek, I-- I wanna go with you.

SHREK: Hey I told you, didn't I? You're not coming home with me. I live alone! My swamp! Me! Nobody else! Understand? Nobody! Especially useless, pathetic, annoying, talking donkeys!

DONKEY: But, I thought...

SHREK: Yeah. You know what? You thought wrong! (stomps off)

DONKEY: Shrek.

Montage of different scenes. Shrek arrives back home. The swamp is a mess but the fairytale creatures are gone. Fiona is being fitted for her wedding dress. Shrek throws a sunflower into the fireplace. Farquaad proudly tries on his crown. Fiona stares at her wedding cake, pushing down a figure of Farquaad to show his actual height. She notices a suit of armor that reminds her of Shrek. Donkey stops by a river where he finds Dragon crying, both of them happy to see each other. Shrek and Fiona both try to eat dinner but start crying.

SHREK'S HOME

Shrek is sitting at the dinner table when he hears a sound outside. He goes outside to investigate, and sees Donkey assembling a line of branches and small rocks.

SHREK: Donkey? What are you doing?

DONKEY: I would think, of all people, you would recognize a wall when you see one.

SHREK: Well, yeah. But the wall's supposed to go around my swamp, not through it.

DONKEY: It is, around your half. See that's your half, and this is my half.

SHREK: Oh! Your half? Hmm.

DONKEY: Yes, my half. I helped rescue the princess. I did half the work. I get half the booty. Now hand me that big old rock, the one that looks like your head.

Shrek starts pulling down the wall and picks up a large branch. Donkey butts his head against it and the two struggle over it.

SHREK: Back off!

DONKEY: No, you back off.

SHREK: This is my swamp!

DONKEY: Our swamp!

SHREK: Let go, Donkey!

DONKEY: You let go!

SHREK: Stubborn jackass!

DONKEY: Smelly ogre.

SHREK: Fine!

Shrek suddenly lets go of the branch, tripping Donkey over, and he walks away.

DONKEY: Hey, hey, come back here. I'm not through with you yet.

SHREK: Well, I'm through with you!

Donkey starts following him.

DONKEY: Uh-uh! You know, with you it's always "me, me, me!" Well, guess what! Now it's my turn! So you just shut up and pay attention!

Just as Shrek nears the door to his home, Donkey jumps in front of him. Shrek walks in another direction.

DONKEY: You are mean to me! You insult me and you don't appreciate anything that I do! You're always pushing me around or pushing me away.

SHREK: Oh, yeah? Well, if I treated you so bad, how come you came back?

DONKEY: Because that's what friends do! They forgive each other!

SHREK: Oh, yeah. You're right, Donkey. I forgive you...for stabbing me in the back!

Shrek enters the outhouse and slams the door behind him.

DONKEY: Uhhhh! You're so wrapped up in layers, onion boy, you're afraid of your own feelings.

SHREK: Go away!

DONKEY: See! There you are, doing it again just like you did to Fiona. And all she ever do was like you, maybe even love you.

SHREK: Love me? She said I was ugly! A hideous creature! I heard the two of you talking.

DONKEY: She wasn't talkin' about you. She was talkin' about...uh...somebody else.

After a brief silence, Shrek comes up of the outhouse.

SHREK: She wasn't talking about me? Well then who was she talking about?

Donkey turns his back to Shrek.

DONKEY: Uh-uh, no way. I ain't saying anything. You don't wanna listen to me. Right? Right?

SHREK: Donkey!

DONKEY: No!

SHREK: Okay, look. I'm sorry, all right?

Donkey turns his head back to raise his eyebrow, and then looks away again. Shrek sighs.

SHREK: I'm sorry. I guess I am just a big, stupid...ugly ogre. Can you forgive me?

DONKEY: Hey, that's what friends are for, right?

SHREK: Right. Friends?

DONKEY: Friends.

Shrek and Donkey shake on it.

SHREK: So, um, what did Fiona say about me?

DONKEY: What are you asking me for? Why don't you just go ask her?

SHREK: The wedding! We'll never make it in time.

DONKEY: Ha-ha-ha! Never fear, for where, there's a will, there's a way and I have a way.

Donkey whistles loudly, and Shrek looks up to see Dragon flying overhead.

SHREK: Donkey?!

DONKEY: I guess it's just my animal magnetism.

SHREK: (laughs) Aw, come here, you.

Shrek scratches Donkey on the head.

DONKEY: All right, all right. Don't get all slobbery. No one likes a kiss ass. All right, hop on and hold on tight. I haven't had a chance to install the seat belts yet.

Shrek climbs up the chain still slung around Dragon's neck. Dragon lifts Donkey up with her hand. They take off, soaring through the clouds and to Duloc.

DULOC CATHEDRAL - INTERIOR

The church is packed with citizens. Fiona and Farquaad are standing at the altar as the priest conducts the ceremony. Thelonius stands nearby, golding a pillow on which rests the two wedding rings. Men with prompter cards hold up cards that says 'Revered Silence'.

BISHOP: People of Duloc, we gather here today to bear witness to the union....

Fiona glances nervously at the window, noticing the sun slowly dropping toward the horizon.

FIONA: Um-

BISHOP: ...of our new king...

FIONA: Excuse me. Could we just skip ahead to the "I do's"?

Farquaad chuckles then motions to the bishop to indulge Fiona.

FARQUAAD: Go on.

DULOC CATHEDRAL - EXTERIOR

A large group of guards stand outside the cathedral on watch. Suddenly Dragon lands nearby and the guards flee in terror. Dragon looks back at Donkey after him and Shrek climb off of her back.

DONKEY: Go ahead, have some fun. If we need you, I'll whistle. How about that?

Dragon smiles, and nods, and takes off towards the town streets. Shrek runs for the cathedral doors but Donkey hurries to get in his way.

DONKEY: Shrek, wait, wait! Wait a minute! You wanna do this right, don't you?

SHREK: What are you talking about?

DONKEY: There's a line, there's a line you gotta wait for. The priest is gonna say, "Speak now or forever hold your peace." And that's when you say, "I object!"

SHREK: Oh, I don't have time for this!

DONKEY: Hey, wait. What are you doing? Listen to me!

Shrek pushes past him but Donkey pins him against the door.

DONKEY: Look, you love this woman, don't you?

SHREK: Yes.

DONKEY: You wanna hold her?

SHREK: Yes.

DONKEY: Please her?

SHREK: Yes!

DONKEY: (singing) "Then you got to, got to try a little tenderness". (talking) The chicks love that romantic crap!

SHREK: All right! Cut it out! When does this guy say the line?

DONKEY: We gotta check it out.

INTERIOR

As the bishop talks we see Donkey through one of the windows as Shrek tosses him up so he can see.

BISHOP: And so, by the power vested in me...

EXTERIOR

SHREK: What do you see?!

DONKEY: The whole town's in there.

BISHOP: I now pronounce you husband and wife...

DONKEY: They're at the altar!

PRIEST: ...king and queen.

DONKEY: Mother Fletcher! He already said it.

SHREK: Oh, for the love of Pete!

Shrek runs inside without catching Donkey, who hits the ground hard.

INTERIOR

Fiona and Farquaad are leaning in to kiss, but are interrupted when Shrek bursts through the doors. They both turn to see him running down the aisle.

SHREK: I object!

FIONA: Shrek?

Fiona initially looks happily surprised to see him, but quickly becomes upset. The bishop gasps, shuts his book, and quietly slinks off.

FARQUAAD: Oh, now what does he want?

The whole congregation gasps as they see Shrek walk ahead towards the altar. They respond positively to him and begin to do "the wave".

SHREK: Hi, everyone. Havin' a good time, are ya? I love Duloc, first of all. Very clean.

FIONA: What are you doing here?

FARQUAAD: Really, it's rude enough being alive when no one wants you, but showing up uninvited to a wedding...

SHREK: Fiona! I need to talk to you.

FIONA: Oh, now you wanna talk? It's a little late for that, so if you'll excuse me--

She leans over to kiss Farquaad but Shrek pulls her away by the hand.

SHREK: But you can't marry him!

She frees her hand from his grip.

FIONA: And why not?

SHREK: Because--because he's just marrying you so he can be king!

The crowd gasps.

FARQUAAD: Outrageous! Fiona, don't listen to him--

SHREK: He's not your true love.

FIONA: And what do you know about true love?!

SHREK: Well, I--uh--I mean...

Fiona is taken aback by this.

FARQUAAD: Oh, this is precious. (laughs) The ogre has fallen in love with the princess! Oh, good Lord. (laughs)

Farquaad gestures to the man with the prompter card holds up a card that says 'Laugh'. The whole congregation laughs.

FARQUAAD: An ogre and a princess! (laughs)

Shrek looks back at the laughing crowd and then down at the floor, dejected.

FIONA: Shrek, is this true?

Just as Shrek opens his mouth to speak--

FARQUAAD: Who cares?! It's preposterous! Fiona, my love, we're but a kiss away from our "happily ever after." Now kiss me!

Farquaad holds Fiona's hand, puckers his lips, and leans toward her. She looks down at him with disgust, and then averts her attention to the window. The sun is just about to set.

FIONA: "By night one way, by day another." I wanted to show you before.

Fiona backs up and gives Shrek a sheepish smile. As the sun sets, she changes into her ogre self. The crowd gasps and one person faints. Shrek stares at Fiona in astonishment, and then grins.

SHREK: Well, uh, that explains a lot!

Fiona locks eyes with Shrek and smiles.

FARQUAAD: Ugh! It's disgusting! Guards! Guards! I order you to get that out of my sight now!

A large amount of guards run in and grab ahold of Shrek and Fiona.

FARQUAAD: Get them! Get them both!

FIONA: No, no! Shrek!

Shrek and Fiona try to grab each other's arms but are pulled away from each other. Farquaad grabs ahold of his crown and puts it on.

FARQUAAD: This hocus-pocus alters nothing! This marriage is binding, and that makes me king! See?! See?!

FIONA: No, let go of me! Shrek!

SHREK: No!

FARQUAAD: Don't just stand there, you morons!

SHREK: Get out of my way! Fiona!

FARQUAAD: Kill him if you have to--but get him!

Shrek angrily fights back and knocks out a few of the guards, but they are able to subdue him through sheer numbers.

FARQUAAD: Beast, I'll make you regret the day we met! I'll see you drawn and quartered! You'll beg for death to save you!

FIONA: No, Shrek!

FARQUAAD: And as for you, my wife!

Farquaad pulls out a dagger and holds it to Fiona's throat.

SHREK: Fiona!

FARQUAAD: I'll have you locked back in that tower for the rest of your days! I'm king!

Shrek manages to pulls his arm free and he whistles loudly.

FARQUAAD: I will have order! I will have perfection! I will have--

Suddenly Dragon, with Donkey atop her head, crashes through a large window behind him. Farquaad drops his weapon and looks up.

FARQUAAD: Arrrggghhh!

Dragon swoops down and swallows him up in one gulp. The guards either run away or step back.

DONKEY: All right! Nobody move! I got a dragon here, and I'm not afraid to use it.

Dragon roars, causing most of the guards to away in fear. The remaining guards let go of Shrek and Fiona, backing away.

DONKEY: I'm a donkey on the edge!

Dragon belches and Farquaad's crown flies out of her mouth and falls to the ground.

DONKEY: Celebrity marriages. They never last, do they?

The congregation laughs and cheers.

DONKEY: Go ahead, Shrek.

SHREK: Uh, Fiona?

FIONA: Yes, Shrek?

SHREK: I -- I love you.

FIONA: Really?

SHREK: Really, really.

FIONA: I love you too.

Shrek and Fiona kiss. Thelonius takes one of the cards and writes 'Awwww' on the back and shows it to the congregation. Suddenly the magic of the spell pulls Fiona away. She's lifted up into the air and she hovers while the magic works around her. Fiona's voice is heard although she isn't moving her lips.

VOICE: "Until you find true love's first kiss and then take love's true form. Take love's true form. Take love's true form."

Suddenly Fiona's eyes open wide and light up. The force of the spell blows against the crowd and all the windows. All except for one with an image of Farquaad on it, which Dragon breaks with her fist. Fiona is lowered to the ground and Shrek runs up to her.

SHREK: Fiona? Fiona. Are you all right?

Fiona slowly stands up, still an ogress.

FIONA: Well, yes...but I don't understand. I'm supposed to be beautiful.

SHREK: But you are beautiful.

They smile at each other.

DONKEY: I was hoping this would be a happy ending.

Shrek and Fiona kiss and the kiss fades into...

THE SWAMP

...their wedding kiss. Shrek and Fiona are now joined in matrimony in Shrek's swamp. Among the attendees are the fairytale creatures once banished to the swamp, as well as a few Duloc Guards. Shrek and Fiona walk down the aisle to their awaiting carriage, which is made of a giant onion. Fiona tosses her bouquet which both Cinderella and Snow White try to catch. They end get into a cat fight and Dragon catches the bouquet instead. Donkey looks nervous, but Shrek and Fiona give him reassuring looks. The Gingerbread Man has been mended somewhat and now has one leg and walks with a candy cane cane.

GINGERBREAD MAN: God bless us, every one.

The guests party and dance as Donkey takes over singing the song. Shrek and Fiona ride away in their carriage. Cut to a storybook that reads "And they lived ugly ever after...THE END".

DONKEY: (as he's done singing and we fade to black) Oh, that's funny. Oh. Oh. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

THE END

.

[cactus-stories]

For sure! Thanks for the ask!

Fluff || Brothers x GN!MC || TW: none

°•☆•°•☆•°•☆•°•☆•°•☆•°•☆•°•☆•°•☆•°

LUCIFER:

He's on the same boat, you cannot tell me this man has had a decent night of sleep in the last millenia at least.

Alas, the lack of sleep isn't as detrimental to him as it is to MC.

Would get up in the middle of the night to check if you're asleep, and if you're not, he'll offer some tea he saw Barbatos give to Diavolo before, to help him sleep.

When neither of you can fall asleep, you'll usually reach out to him so you both can spend some time together, listening to some calming music or playing chess.

You're always the one that falls asleep first, making him chuckle quietly as he places you on his bed, tucking you in and laying next to you, watching yur breath rise and fall until he's also falling asleep.

He'll never admit it, but those are some of his favourite moments with you, his brothers are all asleep and there are no distractions, it's quiet and peaceful and he can enjoy it with his favourite human.

MAMMON:

At first he'll be annoyed, great, now he has to keep an eye on the human at night, too!

But when he realized how much the lack of sleep is affecting your routine, he'll start to get really worried.

Will ask Satan if he knows any medicine that would help you out, it doesn't matter where he needs to go to get it, he'll do it in a heartbeat!

If you ever seek his help with it, he'll be filled with pride, of course you'd want the help of The Great Mammon! Will offer cuddles, something to do so you can tire yourself, hoping that it'll work.

He's not the best at helping you out, but just his presence really helps, and listening to him talking about his schemes is a certified way to making you sleepy.

If you fall asleep while you guys are cuddling, he'll give you forehead kisses and pull you closer, smiling to himself for being able to help at least a bit.

LEVIATHAN:

At first he thought it wasn't that big of a deal, he almost didn't sleep either, and he was perfectly fine!

But when he started noticing your lack of an attention span, how sluggish you were acting and how you always seemed exhausted, he got desperate.

Are you okay, MC?! Do you feel sick?? YOU'RE NOT GONNA DIE, ARE YOU?!

When it clicks that it's lack of sleep that's doing it to you he'll scavenge the entire internet, search in forums, find videos, blogs, anything to help you out..

Another one on the "rambling until they fall asleep" group. He has almost infinite lore to talk about, and he knows you find his voice soothing, so he'll gladly talk to you until you fall asleep.

Will make you a playlist with soothing songs from game and movie soundtracks, specially Studio Ghibli ones. You'll both lay down in the tub and he'll play with your hair while some soothing instrumental plays in the background.

SATAN:

Sometimes he stays up really late while reading, so you can imagine his surprise when he found you pacing around the library, checking the books you were allowed to touch, trying to find something that would catch your eye.

When he asked you about it, he got surprised when you said you've been doing it for the past few nights in a row. Isn't it bad for you, MC?

Oh, it is. Do you need any help? Maybe he can find a spell to help you sleep! He's sure there's one in a book in his room somewhere! Let's go look, just don't touch anything!

When you guys get there, you sit down on his bed as he looks for the book, reading the titles and few passages to himself while searching around.

After finally finding the spell, he turns to you, excited to try it out, just to find you already fast asleep on his bed, all curled up and cuddling with his pillow. Turns out, for the avatar of wrath, his presence is really soothing, and his room, as chaotic as it is, it's one of the coziest in the house.

Any time you need help sleeping you can come to his room. He'll make sure to have some space for you, and even read to you if you want. He'll even tidy up the place a bit to make sure you'll be comfortable in there.

ASMO:

MC! You need your beauty sleep! Oh my goodness whatll happen to your skin if you keep doing it?! Unnacceptable! Come on, we are taking a day off to relax and unwind properly!

He'll make you try out sleep masks, ear plugs, his fluffiest pillows, white noise machine, taking melatonin. You name it, he has tried it with you.

It'll actually really help! You have no idea how, maybe he asked Solomon for something to help you out. You can only imagine, but the melatonin pills he gives you work way better than the ones you used to take at home.

He's the king of beauty sleep and wants to make sure you'll be healthy! Helps you make up a beauty routine to do before bed, and doing it helps a lot too!

Will offer as much cuddles as you want, pepper your face with kisses and play with your hair. Sleeping in his bedroom is the best sleeping experience you'll ever have, so be prepared to be doing it quite often.

You two will have so much fun on sleepovers! Watching some movies, maybe some Deviltuber drama videos, doing face masks and getting ready to bed, he'll make sure to pamper you a lot and get his bed nice and comfy for you both to fall asleep.

BEEL:

He's Belphie's twin, he didn't know there where people out there who actually couldn't sleep! When he notices how little sleep you get, he thinks you're actually dying.

He only understood how bad it really was when he decided to raid the fridge at 3 in the morning and found you quietly eating some cereal in the corner, dark badges under your eyes and sluggish movements.

Will invite you to work out with him, maybe it'll help getting you tired? You'll only know if you try it! Plus you guys can have some alone time, seeing as his brothers don't really care about working out.

Offers massages before bed, so your body can relax and you'll fall asleep faster. He's surprisingly good at them, and even if you don't fall asleep, you'll feel way better afterwards.

Makes a big mount of pillows and blankets, just the way he sees Belphie doing, and puts some plushies he finds around, almost like a nest. He asked Belphie for advice, and that's what he got, does it work? Honestly, kinda, yes.

Likes to wrap himself around you when you guys cuddle, and the body heat really helps making it extra cozy. The nest he made always works better when he's here, so make sure to tell him that.

BELPHIE:

We did it boys, insomnia is no more.

For real, though, when he notices your struggle, he'll invite you to sleep in his and Beel's room, so he can help you out. Will make you fall asleep as soon as your head touches the pillow.

Unfortunately, most of your time together is sleeping, but that doesn't mean you can't do nice things! You guys are definitely professionals on the concept of dream dates!

Will meet you in your dreams so you guys can do whatever you want while resting, it's the best of both worlds! You can have a picnic, explore different places, and just chill under the stars.

Will share his favourite pillows and blankets with you, getting you comfy and ready for bed. He prefers being the little spoon, but will absolutely spoon you if you prefer it, honestly he's happy just cuddling with you in any way you want.

Very clingy, expect lots of soft kisses and back rubs. Loves waking you up with kisses all over your face, seeing you right after you wake up is really satisfying for him, and he loves the effect that some good nights of sleep made to you and your health!

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 5 of ?)

gif by my literal angel @michaelgreys who keeps blessing us like holy fuck

a/n: all i can say is that this is the hottest one yet. as always, my girl @stxdyblr-2k did an amazing job so i hope you all enjoy :) and i'm still working on requests, tysm for all of them!!

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland

prompt: john just can't help himself when he sees you with someone else.

warnings: nsfw!!! smut, fluff, angst, light praise kink, john fucking adores you and spends a good amount of time with his head between your legs (yes i know!!!!!)

John had spotted you from across the London nightclub, his table tucked into the balcony area, perfectly positioned to survey the entire club. It'd been over a month since he laid eyes on you last. Sometimes, he wondered if it was possible for you to only get more beautiful every time he saw you. He wasn't surprised, as he'd been warned of your presence by Tommy, but he was unable to stop himself from staring at you, hair neatly styled, scarlet velvet dress clinging to every curve, red lipstick emphasizing your lips, a light haze of pink pressed into your cheekbones, lash-line expertly darkened with kohl. You were dancing with one of Isaiah's friends; the young man was tall and muscular -- a blinder foot soldier, John concluded, draining his glass of whiskey, flagging the waiter down for another.

The young lad was smiling down at you. John took a swig from his drink bitterly, the man obviously head over heels, his eyes bright, excitedly glancing from your lips to your figure. John could feel himself cringe; the younger man had all the subtlety and strategy of a malnourished dog. Then again, who could blame the lad? You were an absolute vision, twirling and giggling, off your face on something Michael had brought. John couldn't help but watch, wishing it was him who had caught your attention tonight, wanting to feel your breath fan across his neck, pulling away while you giggled at his blushing arousal; him whisking you to dark corners to steal a moment of quiet.

He'd tried to get over you but he couldn't. He'd been travelling a lot lately, business in Liverpool, Edinburgh and Belfast; yet in every woman who smiled at him, he found himself searching for you in their eyes, their smiles, their laugh. They were all gorgeous, but his heart simply wasn't in it.

Tonight had started off alright, normal Peaky activity. They'd seized the club only a few hours ago, gaining vital territory in London, bagging their place in the opiate trade and a successful business prospect in one fell swoop. By all accounts, John should’ve been happy, but he'd been too lost in his own mind lately to properly take in the consequences of those sleepless nights with the accounting books, all the hours practicing shooting and boxing, all the endless driving, the meetings, the lingering stench of death which clung to his family. Try as he might, he couldn't enjoy himself. His night got worse the second he spotted you; a yearning for you suddenly flooding his veins. It was easy to get on with life when you were hundreds of miles from him, but when you were a flight of stairs away? He knew the club had countless dark passages to hide away with you, multiple cloak rooms with thick brick walls to take you against: he had to stop his mind running wild. He couldn't. That had to be the last time. You were in his past, you had to stay there. But as he watched you dance with the blinder, he could feel the familiar burn of jealousy swell deep within him. The lad was far too close to you for his comfort, practically grazing his hips to yours. John roughly rubbed his jaw at the sight, silently seething to himself in the shadows.

Thomas studied his brother's body language, taking a slow drag of his cigarette, not understanding the fuss around you. Sure, you were pretty enough; you were bright, apparently funny, but you had never caught his attention really. He observed how John's eyes followed your every move, every sway of your hips closely watched as he held his breath, losing himself to you. He was glad he'd prompted Michael to invite you; this was the most attentive he'd seen John in a month. It was no coincidence that he'd dragged you away from Birmingham, from the watching eyes of the city locals, the wagging tongues in the assembly lines, far from Ada. Michael had admitted to Thomas that it was easy to persuade you, promising you a lift in his new car and a night out as Ada had plans with a gentleman. A night of dancing with your favourite lads and an all expenses paid trip to London? You couldn't resist.

John's jaw had tensed and squared, the man murmuring something against your neck causing you to giggle and grasp his collar. Thomas could tell his brother was practically bristling with jealousy. If looks could kill, the young man clinging to your hips would be long dead from the glare unleashed on him by the tallest Shelby brother.

"You gonna sit there useless or are you gonna fucking do something about it, eh?" Tommy inquired, nudging him with his shoulder.

"I can't."

"No one will know." Thomas pointed out, raising a brow, "The Blinders will say fuck all if they see owt. They keep quiet when it's about us Shelby brothers, yeah?"

John glanced at him, eyes slightly widened, confusion furrowing his brows. "You've changed your fuckin' tune."

"Sometimes, it's good to have secrets. What Ada doesn't know about the events of tonight won't hurt her."

"We don't do secrets. We're meant to trust each other." John objected. "We're a family."

"Nothing will change, John. I'll fix it for you, yeah? You've had a rough few weeks, you should reward yourself."

"She's not a fuckin’ prize, Tom."

"Keep talking that shit and people will get the wrong idea, think you love the woman or sommet." Thomas shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, while John's cheeks flared, his eyes flinching to the floor. He smirks to himself. "You going to go get your lass, then?"

John replied wordlessly, standing and downing the rest of his drink, pulling on his suit jacket, straightening his collar. "I'll catch you later, Tom."

********

The lad was nice, his name had long disappeared into the fog of liquor and Tokyo. He was someone's cousin, but he was polite; charming, almost. Most importantly, he wasn't related to your best friend. Not quite a Casanova type like John, but you two were a good match, everyone thought so. You'd seen him a few times now over the past week. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a good dancer, and sweet after a few pints.

The band started playing a slower song, Isaiah dancing chest to chest with a beautiful girl across from you. You felt your partner place his fingers on the small of your back, his fingers inching lower, pulling you in closer before the two of you were interrupted by a dark figure looming over you.

"Can I cut in, mate?" A strong Birmingham accent sliced through the air, voice low and polite enough, but with a tone that was laced with venom. "Or are you gonna be a dick about it?"

The lad glanced nervously between you two, moving his hands away from you, embarrassed to be caught by his boss in this state, John staring him down. You slowly pulled away from him, turning to face John.

"Or you could ask me to dance yourself, John?"

John silently glared back at you, his mouth tensed into a thin line. He looked momentarily embarrassed, his attention switching back to your dance partner, the rest of lads silently watching, breaths baited, ready to jump in on the action if the moment required it.

"I'm heading off mate, reckon she's a cocktease." Your partner comments, attempting to diffuse the tension, stepping away, not wanting a fight or to piss off his boss. His path was quickly blocked by another blinder. You shot him an apologetic look and took the large hand John was offering you.

"Or, she's just not interested in you," John quipped, smirking, locking his fingers through yours. "You gonna go get your coat while I finish up with your best mate?"

"Thought we were dancing?"

"You can dance as much as you like in the suite, yeah? Proper gramophone. You coming?"

"You just want me on my own."

"Just tired of the distractions." He told you pointedly, skimming his glare over the group of men, standing with baited breath, preparing for it to kick off.

You rolled your eyes but squeezed his hands, slowly heading to the cloakroom, chatting with the attendant as you watched John confront the lad, keeping your distance. His arms were clutching the lad's lapels, snarling in his face before pushing him back. Michael watched from a few steps away, smoking absentmindedly, spine pressed to a pillar, leaving his cousin to sort out whatever offense he believed the man had caused.

You bundled yourself up in your thin coat, a gift from one of the girls you hung around with as she had recently married a blinder and was being spoiled rotten. The coat's flimsy material was going to be useless against the London night. At least you could count on John to keep you warm on the walk back to the hotel. You headed towards the side door, John's hand quickly finding your lower back protectively as he fell into step beside you. He opened the heavy wooden doors for you, the cold air an instant relief from the heat of the nightclub. You turned back as the door closed, catching a glimpse of the boys closing in on the lad, their eyes gleaming with a violent hunger for action.

"He'll be alright. Daft prick just getting put in his place." John said flatly. He seemed bored but watched you anxiously, begging you with his eyes to drop the subject.

"Is the hotel close by?" You asked casually, as the frigid air swirled around your calves, instantly causing you to shiver.

"I'll get us a cab, love, can't have you in those heels trekking halfway across London town." He stepped fearlessly into the road, unbothered about any potential danger or just forgetful from the whiskey. Quickly, a dark cab pulled up to the cobblestone pavement and John helped you in, taking off his coat and wrapping it around your shoulders before climbing in after you.

As the engine started and the car made its way through London's dimly lit streets to Camden, John's hand found its way to your thigh. You glanced at him, his eyes looking away but his thumb angled against his teeth. He was nervous, having not touched you in a month. You crossed your legs, angling them towards him, his hand shifting higher up your thighs, taking a deep sigh of relief. Your hands found his chin in the gloom of the back of the car, only the occasional bright lights from a nightlife hub or the demure lights of a residential illuminating his face, the angles changing as the cab drove on. It was too much. You'd been needing this for the past month, needing him. Your hands laced around the back of his head and you pressed your lips to his for a brief moment, allowing John to pull you deeper into the kiss. It awoke something familiar inside you, something comforting. Kissing John erased all your homesickness. Christ, you had to stop thinking like this.

"You've not been about for a bit, sweetheart. I know we said never again, but I was hoping you'd come by," John muttered, forehead pressed to yours, breath mingling with yours as he spoke.

"I almost did. The amount of times I nearly visited your office.. I just couldn't do that to you or Ada. Besides, last I heard, you were on tour." You admitted, keeping your voice down to save the cab driver the embarrassment. John caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, tracing the corner of your mouth, prompting a grin from you.

"Last place on earth I'd expected to see you next, it's been hectic my end," He sighed. His eyes were outlined with deep purple smudges of exhaustion, yet he was still devastatingly beautiful even after all the sleepless nights. "It's been too long."

"Not my fault you've been hiding yourself away. You should've called."

"Blame Tommy for that. His solution seems to be sending me on business trips. Trying to make me too tired to handle you." A nervous lick of his lips revealed John’s response to the suggestion that he call you. He wanted to say he would ring next time, but there couldn't be a next time.

"You can barely handle me on a good day, Mr. Shelby."

"Can't blame me. You seen yourself? On the brink as soon as I see you, lass." He teased, earning a gentle shove to the shoulder as you quickly pressed a kiss underneath his chin. You wanted to bring up Thomas' threat, but you bit your tongue, nudging his shin with the toe of your heel in the back of the cab. He rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrists lightly. "Behave yourself in front of the nice cabbie, sweetheart."

You soften at his touch, unable to resist reaching to interlock your fingers, squeezing his hands in yours affectionately. The spirits your table had been bringing you all night definitely boosted your confidence, any hesitancy due to potential rejection drowned out. John pressed his lips to your knuckles in response. He seemed different tonight, far more protective and serious than usual. He was so quiet it was strange, usually yapping your ear off, desperate for you to react, treating him to a giggle, a middle finger or a cutting response. You'd also never witnessed him spark off due to someone's interaction with you. Finn had mentioned a week or so back that John had a shouting match with Thomas and in the moment, your name got thrown up in the conversation, resulting in John taking a swing at his big brother out of frustration. It was confusing. He was willing to start fights over you, punch his brother, yet when you two were alone he was uncomfortably quiet, studying you, lost in his thoughts. His silence only made your body long for him, his fingers tracing patterns in your inner thigh. You let out a small whimper into the crook of his neck, as he instinctively pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

The car pulled up outside the hotel, your pulse racing, the anticipation already threatening to make you give in completely to his wishes tonight. You waited as he turned up his collar against the rain, clambering out of the car to open your door, creatively arranging the coat to hover just above both your heads protecting you from the miserable weather. Although John had referred to the building as a hotel, you could instantly tell the manor was some aristocrat's third or fourth home, obviously being rented out or gifted to business partners for trips. It was an imposing grey stone building, exquisitely carved, although not a country estate, the house was just as large. Was John used to this? It hit you all of a sudden that you'd never set foot inside John's home. You'd heard from Ada that it was overrun with hoards of screaming children. She often joked with the children at the Shelby Institute that if they hung around long enough at John's, he'd assume they were one of his offspring. You'd only ever fucked him in a guest bed. The shame made your stomach churn.

You needed to remind yourself of this when your late night thoughts ran rampant. John could say what he liked, but he'd never actually allow you to get overly personal with him. Whatever confusing mess was winding around your skull regarding him was useless; it was best not to think about it. You went to him every time, yet he would've picked another lass tonight, it was just that you were there. He probably had a string of gorgeous women, older, more accomplished, more experienced, more elegant. He could tell you he missed you, but you could never take for granted that he told you this for any other reason than as a prelude to get you in bed with him. You were his gorgeous mess, but only for the night. It was best to remind yourself to care less than he did. It was the easiest solution in the long term; this way, the downfall would be less brutal.

"You alright, love?" He asked suddenly, breaking your train of thought.

"Sorry, I was thinking about work."

He lived around his brothers for long enough, he could smell bullshit. He decided to let it go. It was best to not push it tonight. Just keep it light hearted, easy, like it was always meant to be.

"If your boss keeps being a prick, you tell Ada. She'll sort him out."

"Don't I know it? He can barely open the door before she starts on about workplace ethics." You joked, earning a small smile instead of his usual bright chuckle. "John, what are we doing here?"

"Well I'm about to take you upstairs and sort you out, yeah? You gonna let me look after you?" He asked, stopping you in your tracks by turning you into him, grabbing your wrist.

"You know that isn't what I meant."

"I know. But can we leave it tonight? Can we just have fun?" He questioned, lips ghosting over yours, fixing you with an intense stare.

"It's fun anymore." Your voice cracked, the liquor in your system making it impossible to control your tone or your facial expressions. "It's fucking with my head, John."

"It's just.. fucking difficult. It's fucking difficult because of who we are." He replied firmly but dropped his makeshift coat shelter around your shoulders, freeing his hands to grab your face pulling it to his, the alcohol making him far needier than he usually appeared. "You, my beautiful Y/N, are a fucking losing game. It's not as easy for me, I can't just dance with a woman and get a leg over-"

"I never said you couldn't."

"I know, I.." He gestured vaguely, lifting one of his hands off your cheeks, and you can feel your head nodding in understanding. "You know, I thought I was going to manage it this time. That I wouldn't be a total fuck up, but then you and that lad-"

"Catch you getting jealous over me."

"Fuck off." He let go of you for a split second but you reeled him back in, resting your palms on the chest of his shirt, the soaked material sticking to his skin. You'd struck a nerve. You decided to push him further.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, Mr. Shelby, disappearing across the country for weeks then coming back and telling me you want me all to yourself?" You played with his collar, tugging his face to yours before pulling back at the last possible second, causing him to let out a frustrated groan, hands itching to feel you underneath them.

"Don't fucking wind me up," He snapped, the intensity between you rekindled momentarily.

"It's worked wonders in the past," You replied, barely able to finish your sentence before his mouth was on yours, his fingers tangling into your hair, kissing you properly. Although you'd kissed so many times prior, this one felt so genuine, as though unleashed from its restraints deep within John. You'd never kissed anyone in the rain before in the middle of the night, and it felt magical. You were shivering but hot all over, burning for John to do something, anything. You could feel his cock through his dress pants, hard against you, prompting you to moan into his mouth.

"Fuck’s sake, Y/N," John grunted into your ear, his hands grabbing at your arse. "You're fuckin’ killing me here. I need you, yeah?"

"Tell me how badly." You responded coyly, linking your arms around his neck, ignoring the late night drizzle.

"I'd rather show you. M’gonna take care of you tonight, make up for the month I've been gone."

"Who's saying I've not been taking care of myself?'

He bit his lip in frustration, trying to stop his mind running wild with the image of you in bed, fingers between your thighs, breasts moving as you arched your back, hips lifting off the mattress, moaning as you called his name -- his jaw clenched. "I know what you're doing. You coming up before you catch a chill?"

You shifted your weight away from him, as if considering your options. He knew your answer; you both knew in a few minutes you'd be upstairs practically tearing his shirt off, needing his skin against yours, begging for him. John pulled away from you, dragging you up the winding path to the front door of the manor, opening the door for you, arm wrapping around your waist. His lips met yours, then your collarbones and neck, prompting a breathy giggle and whine as you wound yourself back around him, craving the contact. The manor was plunged in darkness, staff somewhere in the gloom. Your arrival had definitely been noted, but as with everyone who worked for the Shelbys, they just left you to it. It was easier to not get involved, to keep their heads down and not mention the midnight trysts the brothers got up to.

John knew his path, he'd stayed here before. Even in the dark you could tell the house was decorated to spare no expense, the gaudy paintings and sculptures casting strange shadows. He led you up the grand flight of stairs, then another.

"Worse than Thomas' estate, this place." You murmured quietly, unsure of other guests within earshot.

"I could never live like this. I'd never see my brood again. Getting them ready for bed would be one hell of a nightmare." He whispered back, halting your stride by pulling your hips to his, unable to wait any longer.

"John, what if we get caught?" You asked, pressing your hand against his chest with your palm flat.

"Never bothered you before. Thought you liked the fact that anyone could just walk in and see what a pretty little mess you’ve made for me."

You couldn’t help yourself from pressing an affectionate kiss to his mouth, letting him lay you down and pin you to the stairs, the luxuriously thick carpets scraping into your flesh. He cursed under his breath at the sight of you underneath him, pushing your dress up your thighs, lifting your legs to wrap around his neck, pressing a kiss to your flimsy underwear, glancing up to drink you in. The most beautiful woman in his city, begging for him, figure swamped by his coat, rain soaked and shivering, his mouth between her thighs. He ran his tongue slowly across your clothed core, your pleading moans music to his ears, loving how your thighs tightened around his neck. His tongue traced circles over your clit and labia, the friction generated by the lace of your panties pushing you further, your hands knotting into his hair, spine arching against his mouth.

"No one been looking after you while I was gone. eh?" He asked, pressing kisses to your inner thigh, tugging your panties to the side. "What about your dancing pal?"

"Fuck’s sake, I barely know him, John." You snapped back, teetering on the edge between lust and frustration from his relentless teasing.

"Keep it that way. You don't need ‘im, lass, not while I'm about." He replies before lapping at your slit, interpreting your moans as approval as your head slumped back and you released a low groan. "Y/N, watch me, yeah?"

You pull yourself weakly upwards, propping yourself up in your elbows to be able to look down the staircase at John between your legs in the dark. The view was thrilling, moonlight shining in through the rain on the window, illuminating his face, hair messy and tongue flickering across your clit while he stared up at you, his eyes darkened with lust. You couldn't help but pant, knowing you'd be returning to this moment alone at night, when it was your fingers instead of John's tongue pushing you towards the edge.

"So fuckin' wet and ready for me, aren’t you?" He crooned, sliding his fingers into you, sucking at your clit between flicks of his tongue.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, whimpers leaving your mouth instead, your hips lifting beneath his palms, chest heaving.

"Go on, use your words, clever lass."

"John, fuck.. don't stop," You manage to string together, thoughts too muddled by alcohol and arousal to play hard to get any longer.

"I won't ‘til you cum in my mouth. Need to taste you again, beautiful."

Your head jerked back suddenly as John curled his fingers inside you, pushing up against the spot that made you lose your mind, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, all he could hear except from his blood rushing in his head. Your desperate cries for relief caused his cock to strain against his dress pants, fighting the urge to sort himself out, needing to finish you off. John needed to prove that he could fuck you better than anyone else. He knew he was pushing you to the edge, but he wasn't going to deny you your orgasm. He wanted to make a point with this. His fingers worked faster, his mouth hungry for you, lips moving against your core at a harsh pace.

You groaned loudly, hips bucking involuntarily just to be forced back against the carpet of the staircase. Your breaths grew heavier, warning him how close you were to your peak. John refused to let up, pushing you closer every second, lips latched to your core firmly, lapping up the wetness he'd produced.

"I want to watch you finish." He commanded, you completely at his will now that you'd lost control, lifting your head upwards with the little strength you had left to be able to stare down at his dilated blue eyes. "Good girl. You gonna show me how good I make you feel? You gonna cum for me, doll?"

You couldn't respond, unable to keep your eyes from rolling backwards as you felt yourself suddenly release, John’s name escaping from between your lips, legs shuddering around his neck. He let you ride it out on his tongue, tasting you desperately, watching your expression slowly relax.

Finally, he pulled away from your cunt, unwrapping your legs from his neck. He grabbed your wrist, not letting you retrieve your panties, stuffing them into his trouser pocket. He returned his attention to tracing your slit with the index finger and thumb of his other hand, as he pressed a long kiss to your lips.

"I love how you taste," He murmured against your lips, causing you to flush slightly. John noticed, pressing kisses to your jawbone. "Don't get shy on me now. I've barely started with you. Not even got you to the suite and you've already cum."

He looked so proud of himself, it suddenly clicked for you. He was trying to prove himself to you, for some unknown reason. You know he was protective and quite obviously jealous tonight, but you couldn't believe that John Shelby felt the need to prove that he knew what he was doing, as though you weren't aware. You weren't trekking to his office for mediocre sex. Tonight he let you finish first, no teasing, no denial, no fucking about. Just putting his ability fully on show, so when your mind went drifting it'd go back to him, not some young lad who barely knew what he was doing. His cocky attitude and smug acceptance of his sexual prowess would've been off-putting if it was anyone else, but John, but with his bright smile and constant humour, pulled it off. It was enticing, making your core pool with wetness when he crossed your mind.

"A month is far too long, Mr. Shelby."

"I know, you're practically drooling over me." He teased. He seems a lot more himself than before. He’d been too caught up in his head, too focused on getting you off to enjoy the flirting and teasing. John loved how light-hearted he could be with you. Despite the mess you were both in, it was making you laugh or roll your eyes that soothed his mind. Honestly, if it was just sex he'd have cut you off instantly; he wouldn't have even gone there out of loyalty to Ada. Admittedly, it was your company and presence that had him absolutely on his knees for you, the way he felt understood, less alone in his brother's bullshit, less trapped by his criminal career because you understood. You always had a cutting line, a bright smile just for him, an eye roll at his brothers' daft plans, a choice curse word for Thomas. He didn't even want to consider what would happen after the night ended. He stood, pressing another kiss to your lips as he helped you to your feet, fixing his coat which hung off your shoulders.

"You ready for rounds two through to six?"

"John, you know you won't get through three with me."

"You’re right, you're just too pretty when you’re riding my cock." He teased, the vulgar material of his jibe earning him a joking shove before you curl into his side, letting him escort you up the stairs to the nearest bedroom. He quickly shut the door behind you, scooping you up in his arms, causing you to let out a laugh as he practically tossed you onto the king sized bed, eyes shining with adoration as he looked down at you grinning back up at him.

“You’re something else, John Shelby.”