#come in from the cold

[bobdylan-n-jonimitchell]

Joni Mitchell “Come In From The Cold” single, 1991.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Joni Mitchell :: Come In From The Cold

* * * *

Come in From the Cold Song by Joni Mitchell

Back in 1957 We had to dance a foot apart And they hawk-eyed us from the sidelines Holding their rulers without a heart And so with just a touch of our fingers I could make our circuitry explode All we ever wanted Was just to come in from the cold

Oh, come in from the cold (come in, come in) (We were so young) Ooh, come in (come in, come in, come in) Come in from the cold

We really thought we had a purpose We were so anxious to achieve We had hope The world held promise For a slave to liberty Freely I slaved away for something better And I was bought and sold And all I ever wanted Was just to come in from the cold

Come in from the cold (come in, come in) (It was so pure) Please, come in (come in, come in, come in) Come in from the cold

I feel your leg under the table Leaning into mine I feel renewed I feel disabled By these bonfires in my spine I don't know who the arsonist was Which incendiary soul But all I ever wanted Was just to come in from the cold

oh, come in from the cold (You were too warm) please come in (Come in, come in, come in) Come in from the cold

I am not some stone commission Like a statue in a park I am flesh and blood and vision I am howling in the dark Long blue shadows of the jackals Are falling on a pay phone by the road Oh, all they ever wanted Was just to come in from the cold

Come in from the cold (come in, come in) (I was so low) Oh, come in (come in, come in, come in) Come in from the cold

Is this just vulgar electricity? Is this the edifying fire? (It was so pure) Does your smile's covert complicity? Debase as it admires? (Just a flu with a temperature) Are you just checking out your mojo? Or am I just fighting off growing old? (Just a high fever) All I ever wanted Was just to come in from the cold

come in Oh, come in from the cold (come in, come in) (It was so pure) Please come in (come in, come in, come in) Come in from the cold I know we never will be perfect Never entirely clear (when the moon shines) We get hurt and we just panic And we strike out, out of fear (you were only being kind) I fear the sentence of this solitude 200 years on hold (for my loving crime) Oh, and all we ever wanted Was just to come in from the cold

come in Come in from the cold (come in, come in) (When the moon shines) Oh, come in (come in, come in, come in) Come in from the cold When I thought life had some meaning Then I thought I had some choice (I was running blind) And I made some value judgments In a self-important voice (I was outta line) But then absurdity came over me And I longed to lose control (into new mind) Oh, all I ever wanted Was just to come in from the cold

Oh, come in from the cold (come in, come in) (You were so kind) Please come in (come in, come in, come in) (So kind) come in from the cold (come in, come in) Oh, come in, come in (come in, come in, come in) Come in from the cold (come in, come in) (I was so low) come in, come in Come in from the cold (come in, come in) Please, come in (Come in, come in, come in) Come in from from the cold (come in, come in) (I was so low)

[actress4him]

March Trope-A-Thon Day 1

I had no plans of actually participating in this event before today, and I don’t know how many days I’ll actually get something written, but I looked at the prompts and suddenly had a desire to write comfort - a very, very rare occasion for me! So enjoy a little bit of fluff for our baby Lili.

This takes place during her homeless days, between chapters 4 and 5 of Querencia, and sometime after the “Christmas” piece.

Taglist: @darthsutrich , @inky-whump , @painful-pooch , @pigeonwhumps , @bookworm2107 

Querencia Masterlist

Fandom: Original Work

Prompt: Come in from the Cold

Contains: lady whump (no whumper), homeless whumpee, cold

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According to the thermometer on the bank sign, the temperature has been hovering around freezing for several days now. Snow fell on the second day, melted in the sun enough to turn into slush on the third day, then refroze overnight so that everything is coated in a layer of ice. The roads have been salted and cleared and are still full of commuters. Other than going to work, though, most people are trying their best to stay at home where they have heat and fireplaces and warm food to fill their stomachs.

Liliana has taken to sleeping during the day and walking the sidewalks at night when the temperature drops to its lowest point. Even then, she’s still afraid every time she falls asleep that she won’t wake up again. 

The cold seeps straight through her torn hoodie and thin undershirt, through her skin with no fat left beneath it, and settles in her bones. The hand with arthritis aches constantly. Her feet are shriveled inside her shoes, wet from slush getting in where the sole gapes open. She lost feeling in them a long time ago. 

Today she’s done all the sleeping she can do for now, too cold to get comfortable again. It hasn’t been that long since she made her normal dumpster rounds the night before, so she wanders down some different streets than usual, clapping her hands together and stomping her feet in a vain effort to warm them. 

The public library catches her attention. It’s not the same one she used to go to as a child, but it still brings back that feeling of nostalgia and magic just looking through the windows at the shelves of books. She doesn’t even entertain the thought that she’d be allowed inside to browse, as disgusting as she is, and she certainly won’t be able to check out any books to help her pass the long, lonely days. The few that she brought with her from home have been read over and over again so many times that the covers are falling off.

But…maybe they won’t run her off right away if she just sits in the entry?

The automatic doors fly open with a suddenness that makes her jump and immediately rethink her idea. That was so loud, surely she’s drawn all kinds of attention to herself already. But no one seems to be coming to shoo her away, and the warmth that she can feel inside is so enticing that she can’t help but take a step in.

It isn’t toasty warm. Even when the doors slide shut behind her, the small foyer is a far cry from being inside a house with the heat running. But it’s dry, and there’s no wind, and it’s enough of a temperature change that she thinks she might be able to actually thaw her fingers and nose and ears if she’s able to stay long enough.

There’s a bench along one wall, but Liliana is keenly aware of how dirty she is, and she doesn’t want to sully anything. She settles cross-legged on the floor in the opposite corner, instead. It’s such a strange sensation just to be inside for once, to be sitting on tile instead of pavement or concrete, to have windows to look out of instead of into. She rubs her gloved hands together, breathing warm air into them from time to time, and keeps an eye on the door that leads into the library itself.

The outside door opens again once, letting in a man wearing a suit under his thick coat to drop off a couple of books in the return slot. He gives her an odd look, but doesn’t say anything before disappearing with another blast of cold air.

It takes longer than she’d expected before anyone from inside approaches. Her fingertips have started to tingle, her nose is running, and her ears are burning beneath her hood. As soon as the inside door slides open, though, she’s on her feet, ready to run away.

“Hi, sweetie.” The young woman that leans into the entry looks like a librarian - thick rimmed glasses, auburn hair swept up into a bun. “Did you want to come inside? It’s much warmer in here, and we actually just made a batch of hot cocoa if you’d like some.”

Liliana is stuck in limbo, staring at her. She’d fully expected to be told she couldn’t stay. She never thought she’d be invited further in, and certainly not offered hot cocoa of all things. 

The woman is still standing there, waiting for an answer, and that means she’s going to have to actually…speak. She doesn’t even know when the last time was she used her voice. Still, she manages to dig it up from where it’s buried somewhere deep, though it’s rough and much more hesitant than it ever used to be. 

“I-I…I can’t. I m-mean, thank you, but, but I can’t…come in, I’m…” She doesn’t know how to complete that thought out loud. “I-I’m not…clean,” she finally decides on. 

The librarian smiles softly and waves a dismissive hand. “We’re not worried about that, sweetie. There’s nothing in here that can’t be cleaned if we need to. Come on, come inside.” She steps back and makes a welcoming gesture with her arm.

She shouldn’t. But she wants to, so badly. She won’t touch the books, those can’t easily be cleaned no matter what the lady says, but if she could just look at their spines for a few minutes, and feel the warm air, and…pretend to be normal for just a little while…

She takes one hesitant step forward, then another. The woman’s smile only grows. There’s no sign of her taking back her offer. So Liliana keeps walking, skirting past the woman on the far side of the doorway, until she’s enveloped in the overwhelming warmth and distinct smell of the library. 

“Thank you,” she remembers to say almost belatedly. “I, I won’t stay long, I just, um…I w-was just trying to warm up a little.”

“You can stay as long as you’d like, dear.”

There’s another, older lady behind the counter who’s already sliding a styrofoam cup toward her full of steaming liquid. “Do you like hot chocolate? We didn’t have any marshmallows, unfortunately.” 

She nods. “I don’t…I don’t need it, though…”

“Nonsense, you need it far more than the two of us do,” the older lady scoffs. “It’ll help warm you up from the inside. Besides, if I drink all of this that she made, it’ll go straight to my hips.”

It feels awkward now not to take the cup, so she does, amazed by the heat soaking through her gloves and radiating up to warm her cheeks. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome! Now why don’t you go find a seat somewhere and enjoy it. Grab a book to read while you’re here if you’d like, too!”

“O-oh, I, I couldn’t…”

The first woman smiles. “This is a library, sweetie. These books are made to be handled by anyone who likes to read. They can take it.” She leans in conspiratorially. “Besides, days like today were just made for curling up with a book. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity.”

They wave her off, and she finds herself wandering up and down the endless aisles in a daze, sipping at her hot cocoa once it’s cooled down slightly. She’s fairly certain that she might be dreaming. But even if she is, it’s a good dream, for once, and she’s not going to question it too much. 

Hesitant as she is to touch anything, eventually she can’t resist the call of the historical fiction novels. Finding one whose description intrigues her, she selects another spot on the floor, ignoring the armchairs she’s passed, and falls into a world of mystery and romance far, far away from her own life.

Even when it’s time for the library to close and the two women regretfully see her out - with another cupful of hot chocolate that she’s not sure her stomach can handle but she’ll hold onto as long as she can, and a hundred instructions to come back and read some more anytime she’d like - her mind is still far away from the ice covered sidewalks and the bitter cold. Thoughts of sword fights, royal intrigue, and the kindness of two librarians keep her company through the long, frigid night.

[marypsue]

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[sergle]

ALSO IMPORTANT TO NOTE, people dropping mad mad sums of money on gfms and charities and stuff are extremely impressive but that DOES NOT MEAN that putting like $5 towards someone's fund or any good cause is any less valuable, a lot of crowdfunding is about momentum and those single digits add up super fast, you do not need to be Rolling In The Dough to make someone's day!! moving the dial at all is extremely positive!!

[tzarrz]

i listen to fog lake too much

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

When in doubt, Soup it out.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[endless-nightshift]

There's something so sad to me about the fact Lan Xichen goes from happily encouraging Lan Wangji to befriend Wei Wuxian to Considering Wei Wuxian to be Lan Wangjis 'only mistake'

Like... Imaging getting a miracle second chance not only at life but to have be loved by the man you've always admired only to find out that his family detests you because during the worst time in your life, physically and mentally you didn't take into account the idea that a man who'd always treated with cool acquaintance at best, active distaste at worst actually cared about you and that his constant reproach and effort get you do give up the one method you have to protect yourself while everyone was literally actually out for your head was honestly because he was badly wording his concern and not because he hated you and the methods you used to survive.

[purgatory-jar]

What's the best way to celebrate when (not if!!!!) Chris finally comes back?? But the LA Aquarium of couse!

(Chris loves them, but damn, are they really this oblivious?)

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Like my art? Commission me here!

[erinwantstowrite]

ok now is the time where i admit that alighterwood got into my head and now i have a batfam rewrite au plotline sitting in my outline drafts

[bobdylan-n-jonimitchell]

Joni Mitchell on the set of her music video for “Come In From The Cold” with director, Rocky Schneck ca. 1991.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[95-6qrsk2rx9uq42069nnnnnjthewolf]

i think tim is high maintenance the way a boarder collie or austrialian shepherd is. like you have to make sure they're not only given space to expend energy but you have to specifically let them get the herding instinct out and challenge them intellectually or they start destroying ur home

[inkskinned]

there's this video you've probably seen already where a woman is shaking in front of a microphone and delicately tries to ask - how can i make my husband listen to me, i've tried everything, i don't want to seem ungrateful and the other man laughs - the problem is that you married a man, we're only listening 25% of the time and we only understand 5% of that! and the audience laughs and the woman laughs and you just sat there, phone in your hand, letting the sound of it echo

and the thing is that people make think-pieces about it (isn't this one of them) and satire versions and "flipping the script" which is good and fun but at the end of the day, there's some truth in that man's response about men-not-listening. and you have tried to language that feeling for years, this sense that you can only take up 33% of a conversation before others view it as being "dominating".

it's not that they aren't listening, it's that the action they're taking is purposefully silencing. it's different. you accidentally-don't-listen a lot; just because the world is loud and you're distracted. you don't mean anything by it. and the truth is that the man who spoke is relying on that to be true of you; the way it's true of everyone. but there is a different undertone to his kind of not-listening. what he means is they don't respect you and you shouldn't expect them to. there is a difference between oh shit i forgot to take the trash out and why didn't you remind me to do it, just like there is a difference between i didn't realize you wanted to go out this weekend and why do you expect me to plan things why can't you just tell me where we're going.

and the thing is that it isn't just him, and it's actually not just because of your gender - your skin, your class status, your weight, their ableism - it happens often. so often it feels like a tightness around your throat and a weight in your stomach. you're not even "really" allowed to be upset about it, because to them it's a joke. and they laugh. and you know exactly the amount of work that goes into every conversation. how you have to work to condense down your thoughts into intelligent, crisp soundbites; worried someone will try to swoop in and cut you off. and there's this sense from everyone else - oh stop being so sensitive, are you really upset just because they weren't listening and you don't know how to say the way that feels when it happens constantly.

there's that video of the science summit where a woman in the audience finally says let her speak please! and the whole crowd bursts into applause and the man leading the summit holds up his hands and bows his head and says oops, sorry! like what he did was awkward and embarrassing, a little social gaffe that happens easily. later in your meetings, you're asked to take notes, and you don't say anything, you just hear let her speak please! ringing in your head and know that you'll never be brave enough for that kind of thing. and besides. think of all the people who agree this was a one-off, he just got excited and all of the people who say one man is not indicative of all of society

at the dinner table you're talking about someone you don't like and how he's not good to his girlfriend and how she always has to remind him to put the effort in and before him, she was glowing with curiosity and passion but now she just seems... tired, unhappy. that he likes the way she burns out; she stays home and takes care of him and their 2 kids. and your father sniffs and says that men take a while to learn those kinds of things. and you just stare at him and think about your childhood and are like - no wonder i turned out like this

and you want to say - there's no fucking secret school or mystic form of communication. i was not sent to Rearing a Child University. i did not graduate from Getting Chores Done College. i ask questions and i listen and i pay attention, because that's basic fucking human decency. it stems from respect, and how i respect others and their agency. i clean the house because someone should clean. not because it comes "naturally".

hell, you had to google "how to boil an egg" the other day, just because you usually make them scrambled. you can never remember which of the 2 bathroom cleaners make chlorine gas, only that two of them definitely do. you've accidentally bleached your clothes. it took you like 3 years of self-teaching before you figured out how to actually cook things correctly - for that whole time, you burnt or undercooked everything. but you did teach yourself; just like you taught yourself how to listen with empathy. just like how you taught yourself to think before you speak. to be kind first, to be better at communicating. it seemed like a good thing, an adult thing.

the joke the man in the video makes is that women say i'm fine! when they are not fine. and you think about the 150 conversations that happened around that; about how she probably has had so many arguments with her husband. how she said i'm upset you don't take me anywhere and he got mad at her because of course i do, you made me go to that stupid restaurant like last week and she probably said that's not what i'm saying and he said now i'm supposed to be psychic or something and she said no of course not and he said how am i supposed to know what to do when you don't even like everything and she said i do like things and he said well how am i supposed to win? and her pastor probably told her to be more grateful because they do things at all, even if she has to plan them and her mom probably told her that's just how men are honey and she probably cried over her journal, trying to figure out why the fuck she "has everything" and is still so bitterly, horribly unhappy

and how, in your life, for so many reasons, you looked down the barrel of another argument; of explaining yourself and being vulnerable and begging for help again. how many times you just said i'm fine because it was better than doing that again; it was better than wringing yourself out when it's literally easier to just pretend. because he wasn't going to listen. your father wasn't going to be better and your boyfriend wasn't going to be better and your boss wasn't going to be more respectful.

and you sit in front of a video of a woman shaking, looking horrible and guilt-wrought that she's even asking this question. and you know; deep in your heart - that's you. in a different life, you are her. you've stood in her spot. and you had to listen while someone else cackled - why would we bother to notice when you talk?

[azu1as]

once again thinking about sqq unintenionally becoming a harem master in the eyes of can qiong and civilians.

it starts off with him saving one of binghe's future wives because ! she was one of the more interesting wives !! with powers that ariplane retconned in later chapters for no reason !!!!!!

"What a sweet girl," Shen Qingqiu murmurs as he opened the thank you package delivered to him because she wanted to thank the immortal master for saving her from a beast that in PIDW had traumatized her into becoming a recluse.

Shen Qingqiu hums as he touches the new hand-painted fan. Sweat begins beading on his neck at the murderous glare his white lotus Binghe was directing at the object in his hands.

This master is sorry, Binghe, but this fan is too precious to throw!

Shen Qingqiu clears his throat, "It would be good if she sends more gifts," to her future husband Binghe, of course.

That way, his sweet bun realizes that this was nothing more but a gift to her father-in-law. Aiya, why is the glare even worse?

a week later, sqq saves another wife by complete coincidence on a trip down to the village. she insists on joining him back to cang qiong and sqq gives in because of how persistent she was.

binghe breaks the plate of snacks he was holding when he bumps into them.

sqq: oh shit binghe's jealous. quick gotta send her his way and make them spend more time together

and then the lady just asks him about sqq and whether he's married single looking for someone.

and it keeps happening. sqq isn't sure either why he's meeting all these future wives. maybe the system wanted him to give his future approval? the system was being a bitch and seemed to enjoy his confusion over the way events had been continuously unfolding.

but then one of binghe's sly wives—a scammer who airplane contradictorily describes as pure-hearted at her core—comes up to him one day and tells him, "I have your baby."

And she shamelessly does it in front of the whole cang qiong delegation.

Shen Qingqiu doesn't know where or who the shrill keening sound was coming from.

[shepscapades]

okay am i crazy? someone please tell me I'm crazy, I saw the thumbnail for Xisuma's newest hermitcraft episode and was immediately reminded of the deepslate/blackstone palette and building style of all of the buildings from the Evil Empire in season 8. Clicked on the video and the introduction "Previously, on Hermitcraft" was voiced with Evil Xisuma's voice filters. I had thought Xisuma said in a recent FAQ video he had no plans to bring Evil X back into hermitcraft plot because the storytelling wasn't really his top priority, but this kind of seems like foreshadowing of some kind? Thoughts?Regardless, kind of a sickening thought for c!xisuma that Ex might just be. lurking. very cool <sweating