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#i guess i'm philosophical tonight
hajihiko · 1 year
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Rumps, you don't have to worry about the ship too much
By this point my interpretation of it is 'cool, today rumps is feeling a little more romantic but in a platonic way' and 'oh neat, today it's platonic but in a pseudo romantic way',
Feel free to draw all the platonic kisses you want
If it still weighs on your mind, just tell your brain they're on holiday in Italy where kisses on the cheek are just a greeting
It's not so much that I'm *worried* per se! Just like, I know when things are interpreted a certain way, and I like to make it clear when it means something conceptually different to me, for my own sakes.
I am glad though lol thats a very apt description! I guess that's basically how I feel on a daily basis pretty much!
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hedgehog-moss · 7 months
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Today felt like the last day of summer... I spent a long time following a little stream, looking for the spot where I'd found wild currants last year. They had clearly moved to a different spot, or maybe I'm just bad at finding things again because the only landmarks my brain finds worth remembering are stuff like "there were two baby cows to the left" or "there was a majestic hawk perched on a fencepost." I did know the currants grew near a waterfall that's near a little hamlet, and (unlike the baby cows) both were still here one year later.
Half an hour into our quest Pandolf had decided we must be looking for water, so he stopped like "Here!!" every time he found a noteworthy watery spot, it was very sweet.
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Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to find my favourite berries this year, and I went back to the road—and found raspberries instead! The last ones of the summer...
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I was like "I accept this consolation prize, world, thank you" and had started picking raspberries when I heard soft dainty footsteps on the road behind me. On reflex I said "Bonjour !" as I was turning around and then realised I'd just said bonjour to this lady:
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She walked up to me like she was about to ask me for directions, but then went right past me and walked on with the same purposeful air.
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She stopped to admire the view above the waterfall like an old lady on her routine evening walk, then she was on her way.
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Pandolf and I went in the opposite direction, to go home, and we soon found another pony who was clearly the first one's pasture mate. This one was in her pasture and she looked sad and abandoned (and/or outraged). She kept pacing and then stopping behind the fence and whinnying.
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After we crossed the hamlet we saw a guy on his tractor on the road—he was on his way to a pasture where you could see a little herd of cows who had formed an orderly queue in front of their milking parlour. It was evening milking time and the ladies knew it.
Cows queue like British citizens, I mean very politely and patiently, but still I didn't want to keep them waiting so I hesitated to stop the guy to tell him about the fugitive. I chose the compromise of trotting besides his tractor to give him the news, and the tractor was very loud so he couldn't hear me well and I had to sort of convey the concept of escaped ponyhood with hand gestures. The guy looked in the direction I was indicating and then nodded and moved his arms in a philosophical gesture of total acceptance, like, "Such is life." Or maybe it was "Not my pony, not my problem."
I on the other hand feel a deep sense of community with people who have escape artist animals, so I ended up turning back to see if I could at least orient the pony in the vague direction of her pasture. I found her at a crossroads, wondering where tonight's walk would take her.
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When I tried to go around her and shoo her back in the right direction, she went off the road and down by the stream, which wasn't the plan, and Pandolf happily followed her then barked at me like "hey!! water!!" Our search for water had ended but I followed them to humour him—and! I found some wild currants! down by the little bridge that the pony was waiting for me to notice like some mystical guide.
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There were no actual berries to be found, I'm a bit too late for that, but I got some cuttings to transplant near my house and since I thought I was going to go home empty-handed it made me feel successful anyway.
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So maybe the pony saw me meandering near her pasture looking for currants and decided to escape so she could help me out. A criminal with a heart of gold. If I'd walked by the bridge I might have seen the currants without her help because, guess what, last year's hawk, Guardian of the Gooseberries, was still there on his fencepost nearby. What a good landmark! But I wouldn't have walked by the bridge without the pony's prompting as I had already given up on my search, so she did escape for a good cause.
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I tried to use the currants as bait to attract the pony (let's call her Mrs Berry) towards her pasture, but after I pulled the leaves out of her reach for the third time I lost her trust and she stopped paying attention to me. So I had to go back to the good old method to make shetland ponies move, i.e. walk behind her and occasionally pretend-kick in the direction of her bum, the way you'd shepherd a reticent pigeon.
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Her friend looked pretty indifferent upon seeing her again, so I think she wasn't whinnying out of worry but because she's a Pirlouit (a snitch).
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I opened the pasture gate but Mrs Berry had absolutely no intention of going home so early. She went in the opposite direction, for a little stroll around her hamlet. (Look at Pandolf merrily leading the way! He loves escape artist animals, he thinks they're so much more fun than everybody else.)
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Nobody was home in the house by the pasture and I decided to let Mrs Berry stroll, now that she was no longer on the road walking away towards the distant horizon. I figured she must be a Pampérigouste, a known local personage who goes out for an adventure every now and then. We let her have her harmless fun in the two and a half streets of her little village, and since we had lost some time following this pony round, the sun was now quite low and Pan was all prettily backlit as he frolicked on the way home <3
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blackjackkent · 5 months
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OK, headed back to camp for a long rest, and THIS was waiting for me as I did a quick rounds to talk to everyone before bed:
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Gale, if you scarpered and left me a fucking voicemail I'm going to be very upset.
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"Good evening! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation at a more suitable locale."
LOLOL.
First of all, yes, that's exactly what he did, and second of all, I forgot I had him in that hat. I guess "Hide Helmets" does not extend to Gale's mirror image, just to Gale himself.
Also wtf are you up to, Gale? :P Are we going to channel the Weave again together? You should know I'm pretty spoken for at this point.
"Very well," Hector says, bemused. "Show me the way."
"Gladly," says the mirror image. "Simply follow yonder path, and soon you will find him."
There is, in fact, a wall in the direction the image then pointed, but the game immediately popped up a long rest dialogue so presumably we just have to sleep now to trigger the rest of the scene.
I took a quick pause to throw a bottle of water on myself to remove all the bloodstains and also to kiss Karlach because reasons.
-----
Gale has, it seems, found a hidden exit out of the tower; he's sitting outside in the moonlight, wreathed in a shimmering, iridescent wave of magic.
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For a little while Hector simply stands on the edge of the clearing and watches him. By all rights, they should not be comfortable anywhere outside in this dark, cursed place, but Gale's magic is bright, driving back the darkness, resonating with a strange, almost musical chiming as it swirls. Gale's expression is distant, as if seeing past the lights into some other world altogether; his fingers move in quick, purposeful motions through the air, a conductor with his orchestra.
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He looks up and smiles quietly as Hector approaches; he doesn't speak, but scoots a little to the side to indicate Hector should sit next to him.
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"I love this time of night," he says softly, when Hector has made himself comfortable. "There's an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you'd almost believe the dawn will never break. The cradle of eternity..."
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He hesitates, looks sideways at Hector and smiles sadly. "The timelessness of lovers. That most beautiful of fantasies."
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Hector meets his gaze steadily, resisting the urge to flinch away from the intensity in the other man's eyes. There was a time, perhaps, when he might have considered reciprocating Gale's interest in him. It's well-meant - and gods know that Gale could use someone kinder than Mystra to care for him. That ship has sailed, though; Hector is Karlach's, unequivocally.
But Gale is his friend, and it doesn't take a genius to see that the wizard is extraordinarily preoccupied tonight. "You seem especially philosophical this evening," he says gently. "Are you all right?"
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Gale looks away, the faint smile leaving his lips. "I will be, soon," he mutters. "I am perhaps just one hard day away from being without any troubles at all."
Ah. Of course. He thinks that tomorrow, or at the very least someday very soon, will be their final confrontation, for better or for worse, and he will have to set off the bomb in his chest. And perhaps he's right. They have seen no sign of the "Heart of the Absolute" yet, but there is certainly no question they're in the heart of the Absolute's territory. The heart of the cult's influence.
"This may be my last night alive," Gale goes on. "I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder... I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do feel a little lighter. But...I am not so sure..."
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Hector frowns, watching him. There is certain noble self-control in Gale's manner that he admires tremendously, as one who has been a student of self-discipline for his entire life...and yet...everything about this still feels wrong to him.
"Is this truly what you want?" he asks quietly. "To die for the promise of Mystra's forgiveness?"
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Gale's expression hardens and he sits up with a sudden surge of energy. "Babe or crone, coward or hero, death is assured. Mystra's forgiveness...is not. If you knew the end was near, would you not want to ensure it had meaning?"
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He rounds on Hector abruptly, meeting his eyes, demanding an answer of him. But Hector is not sure he has one to give. Yes...yes, he would want his death to have had meaning, were there no other choice but to die. But he does not accept that premise - there must be another way.
When he doesn't respond, Gale slumps, looks away again. "I am terrified," he admits softly. "I will not claim otherwise. My face could scarcely conceal it even if my words sought to deny it." He draws a slow breath and lets it out heavily. "There is no point in running from the inevitable. Better to meet it on my own terms."
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Hector shakes his head, troubled by the implications of what Gale is saying. "Nothing is inevitable," he says firmly. "Not when we face it together. You don't have to die."
Gale flinches away from him. "Yes," he mutters. "But there is so much to live for, and so few moments in which to house it all..."
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"Damn you!" he snaps suddenly, slamming a fist into the soil next to him and making Hector jump. "Damn you for giving me so much to care about. Our friends, our adventures-- this would have been so much easier if it was just me. But it isn't."
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He swallows, and for a moment the real, true grief that he has been trying to ignore becomes fully clear on his face. "If there is a way, any way, to save all that's grown dear to me, I want to seize it... I just cannot fathom what that might be, other than to fail Mystra and condemn the world..."
A long silence. Hector struggles to find something useful, something reasonable to say. I will not let you die, not if there is anything I can do to stop it... he thinks. But I have no more answers than you do. I wish I did...
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Gale smiles ruefully when he receives no response; he knows just as well as Hector does that there isn't really one to give. "Stay with me, will you?" he asks softly. "I don't want to think of it any more, but I don't want to be alone either."
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Stay with him and watch the stars in silence.
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eartheats · 1 year
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off shift. was kind of a slow one tonight at least, and j and a new person's gonna be taking over the night shift. got tomorrow off too so i'm breakin' into a lil of an old friend and...
...what's happiness to you guys, ya think? like when that word comes to mind, what's the first sorta thing you associate it with? that brings it to you, i guess??
not sure why i'm feeling philosophical on main tonight, but. idk. maybe it's the drinks talking. but i am curious.
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garden-ghoul · 3 months
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Happy Gushiwensday Shabbes! We have another Li Qingzhao tonight! I've missed her.
Above the sky the starry river turns; night's curtain drops to shade the world of men. My mat and pillow growing cold as tearstains spread and dry-- I rise, undo my robe, and idly wonder, "Ah, is it full, deep night again?" These green-embroidered lotus pods are small; the roots and leaves of golden thread are sparse. Cold weather's like it's always been, and clothing doesn't change-- Only our moods and whims are any different from olden times, when they were just like us.
Original text and notes under the cut.
南歌子·天上星河转
天上星河转,人间帘幕垂。凉生枕簟泪痕滋。起解罗衣聊问、夜何其。 翠贴莲蓬小,金销藕叶稀。旧时天气旧时衣。只有情怀不似、旧家时。
This is in meter because I accidentally wrote the first line in meter and decided hey, why not? Here are some notes. Not a lot, this one was quite simple to translate! You can rely on Li Qingzhao to be pretty straightforward.
night's curtain... men --- literally "the human world; a door-curtain hangs down." I originally read this as calling the human world thin or liminal, marking the space between, I don't know, heaven and the ground beneath.
tearstains spread and dry --- I don't actually thing the evaporating tears are what's making the bedding cold (I think it's cold weather, as alluded to in the second stanza), but I wanted to add this as a transition to make the next line less abrupt; here I'm implying that she's already kind of detached from her crying sesh. She's so over it. What time is it?
full, deep night --- if I had to translate this literally I'd go with "it's very night." lol.
small, sparse --- there's some confusion about whether this is referring to the original embroidery being insufficient or whether it's referring to embroidery wearing out over time. I chose the former because I'm just not clear on how "small" could refer to the latter.
olden times --- the phrase 旧时 "olden times" is actually repeated twice in the line about cold weather and clothing, and comes back in the last half-line as 旧家时 the time of great old families, I guess? I'm not actually sure if this is the same as ancient times; Laurence's interpretation was like, previous times this person has worn these clothes, which I kind of like better, but I'm too lazy to retranslate it...
when they were just like us --- completely invented this bit to fill out the meter. It's a bit of interpretation trying to convey the poet's philosophical mood.
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Amol New World
When I wrote the first ever edition of this blog in 2016, I described Jeremy Paxman as 'stony eyed, hair thick and flowing like a bear post-hibernation.' Having completed his twenty ninth series earlier this year he has now departed for a longer rest, well earned after nearly three decades of sardonic quips and withering put-downs. From all of the press pics, his replacement Amol Rajan is not boasting a bouffant on Paxo's 2016 level, and I can't choose which animal to compare him with, but I'm sure we'll get there.
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I, like all viewers of University Challenge, am intrigued to see how Rajan hosts the show. For a large number of people Paxman is the only person we've known as quizmaster, and his style has become synonymous with the show itself. In his later years, he mellowed out a little bit, taking the edge off his caustic nature for the most part, but his furrowed brow, knitted tightly in befuddlement at the silliness of a contestant's throwaway guess remains iconic. Amol Rajan certainly has a big seat to fill.
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I think its pretty cool, for what its worth, and I reckon they had to mix things up a bit or it might have felt a bit strange with someone else in the hotseat.
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There is an excitement around this series, a nervousness about the newness of it (amplified somewhat by the faked death of the University Challenge YouTube uploader, which you can read about here if you haven't heard of it. Let's just say here that hopefully someone else steps up to upload this new series).
Manchester have won the show four times, and Trinity three, making them two of the most historically significant UC teams, but only one of them can win tonight... Without further ado, your first starter of the Amol Rajan era.
The show opens with a bizarre aspect ratio which I feared they were going to stick with the whole time, but the camera zooms in and we are treated to Rajan's dulcet tones for the first time. He introduces the teams and then we're off to the races.
Immaterialism is a concept associated with which philosopher...
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Manchester hit back thanks to captain Senehedheera, but he rushes on the first bonus, losing out on the five points. No one knows its Honolulu on the next starter, but a second from Senehedheera gives Manchester the lead. Jaksina gets the first picture starter on Dr Zhivago by Pasternak, before a full bonus set on samizdat novels ties the game, and another from Banerjee takes back the advantage.
De los Reyes-White takes a starter on Wandavision and Senehedheera is disgusted by his own failure to recall the names of philosophers on the bonuses.
Henderson gets the music starter in about two seconds, prompting a big 'wow!' from Rajan. Maybe this can be his thing - pure shock at the speed of knowledge on display. Good bonuswork puts Trinity on double the score of Manchester at the halfway stage.
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Banerjee wins a bonus set on herbs for Trinity. Bucking the stereotype of the cooking-ignorant student, they manage two of the three. Jaksina then takes his second picture starter with Vermeer, and Trinity are in command with five minutes to go.
Needing a starter, Grady buzzes in and starts giving Wide Sargasso Sea, but Rajan accepts his answer before he even finishes saying wide. Fair enough, but certainly something Paxman would never have done. They reduce the gap, but Kang shuts down the comeback. Whenever Manchester look like they're going to get back in it, one of the Trinity quartet block them. Fifty points separate the sides, so all Manchester can play for is the high-scoring loser play-off.
Or is it?
A starter from Kullmann is followed by a quickfire hat-trick on the bonuses. Another starter. Dawdling on the bonuses. Too much conferring. They only manage one, but its a crucial one. They're ten points back. A supremely clutch starter from De los Reyes-White (yak) ties the game with seconds left. Some of which Rajan wastes by telling us there are seconds left.
What kind of electricity...?
'Static?' guesses Senehedheera, and then the gong. Is he right? No he is not.
Tiebreak. 👔
In the first episode of the new era.
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Which activist art group...
BuZz!
Senehedheera - Guerilla Girls?
Correct.
Trinity 175 - 185 Manchester
Phew! What a game to start the series. I know there is a bit of choice for the schedulers over which match gets broadcast first, but they must have been rubbing their hands with glee when this one fell into their laps.
Astonishing comeback from Manchester, and huge commiserations to Trinity, though they will surely return for the play-offs unless Rajan's increased speed of delivery results in loads of high-scoring games.
As for Rajan himself, new things always take a bit of getting used to, and as I said in the introduction, Paxman had become so synonymous with UC that its odd to see someone else there (it sort of feels like we're watching a alternate universe version of the show), but I think he did a good job and I'm sure we'll get over it soon enough.
Although it might take longer than that for people to get over the lack of question cards...
Join us next week for Episode 2 of the Rajan Era, as Aberdeen take on Birmingham, and subscribe here so that you never miss a review!
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liminalpebble · 1 year
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The Refugee: Chapter 11
Masterlist link
The day of the ball was upon them. Both Magnus and Loki were satisfied that they had done everything in their power to educate Lea in the ways of Asgardian aristocratic etiquette. The three of them were eating breakfast together.
“Are you nervous?” asked Loki. 
Magnus and Lea were both surprised that he cared about anyone else's feelings enough to ask such a question. Magnus was a good judge of people though, and could see clearly that if anyone's feelings mattered to Loki, it would of course be hers, and possibly Magnus', but no one else's.
“Not as long as I don't think about it.”
“You'll be fine, Lea. These things are all just pomp and circumstance anyway. You won't have to do much, except maybe listen to Loki speak for ages. He's long-winded but actually not so bad. He's a very engaging public speaker.”
“I'm not called Silver-tongue arbitrarily, you know,” he said moodily stabbing at his eggs. He was irritable today and in no mood for either of their usual friendly sparring. Lea wondered what had gotten into him, but Magnus didn't have to. He knew what Loki was feeling for her, because he was as well. Where Magnus' affection presented as frequent gestures of reciprocated care, conversation and humor, Loki's, for the most part, came out as sheer, stormy, aggravation.
They all separately went about their day to prepare for the evening. Around 3 o'clock, Lea found herself being roughly laced up by an old servant who had clearly done this many times before. Lea had learned her lesson. The dress was even more gorgeous than the burgundy one. It was pale lilac-purple laced with intricate burgundy patterns; Morhari patterns, Lea had noted, and was very touched by the gesture. She guessed and hoped that it was Loki's doing. Some other servants had pinned her hair up in some very elaborate manner with golden pins and delicate golden mesh.
Loki arrived and dismissed the servants with unusual politeness. He was again in his bright gold and green armor, looking every bit the elegant philosopher-king he purported to be. His bright eyes went wide and his mouth hung open in an honest expression of awe at the sight of her.
“Well?” she said since he was uncharacteristically quiet.
“I am stunned by you beyond my ability to express myself.”
“High praise indeed, from you,” she said, smiling a little self-consciously. “I appreciate the pattern. Your doing?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't thank me yet. You're going to just have to do it again in a moment.”
“How presumptive!” she joked.
Undeterred, he opened a box in front of her. It was a version of her earrings and necklace, perfectly replicated with every meaningful detail and inscription, but made of gold and inlaid with amethyst.
“I...I know how much these mean to you, so I hoped tonight you could wear this version instead to match your dress. I'm not sure if the tradition is....you're not saying anything...please say something ...” .
She was too shocked and touched by the gesture to say a single word. Her eyes shown as if she was about to cry, but of course her tears couldn't quite release themselves. Instead, she wordlessly hugged him tightly around the waist, face pressed into the cold armor on his chest. On a few occasions Thor had struck Loki with bolts of lightening, shook him violently and made his ears ring and ache with thunder. This was what he felt again, but ecstatically so. It took him a moment to realize what she was doing, and once he did he hurried to wrap his arms tightly around her, not wanting to let her slip away. He wanted to hold her there as long as he could. He kissed the top of her head lightly, breathing in that familiar honey and incense scent that he'd come recognize as her signature. His heart ached terribly as she pulled away.
“Thank you,” she finally said, simply, breathlessly.
She carefully took her jewelry off and placed it safely aside and allowed Loki to latch her necklace while she fastened the earrings. “There,” he said, stepping slightly back to take in the sight of her. He smiled like an artist who had just put the final touches on his masterpiece.  “M'lady. Shall we?” he said offering his arm. She took it and nodded a little sheepishly. “Don't be afraid,” he said, “I'm with you. You're not alone.”
The large ballroom was a sprawling hall, at least twice as large as the vacated ballroom where they practiced dancing, and filled with hundreds of courtiers and nobility. As planned the crowd was gathered prior to Loki and Lea making an entrance where Loki would announce her. He could feel her nervously fidget her fingers a little on his arm. “It's okay, darling. Deep breath and follow my lead. Keep your eyes up, remember.” She smiled and nodded, and they began to walk.
Loki made a brilliant speech introducing her to the court. He explained how her inclusion as a resident scholar in the citadel was part of his vast plan of preserving diverse kingdoms and cultures under his rule. Lenora was both impressed and uncomfortable. His speech made her remember what she was; an asset, currency. He said he wanted to make her a queen, but she felt as insignificant as the playing card, carelessly shuffled around until the next game. She felt embarrassed by how flattered she had been by his attention to the dress, the jewelry, to her. She was lulled  into thinking it was somewhat personal, not merely a utilitarian political move. She felt like an utter fool but her face showed nothing other than cool poise. She thought to herself bitterly, that she's learning to deceive almost as well as Loki.
He danced with her. She kept her head up even though it hurt to look into his eyes; eyes she naively thought she saw some truth and care in occasionally. She told herself to build better walls, and remember who he was; the villain, the monster, the god of lies. She made the required small talk with slews of nobility and aristocrats, who seemed to find her a charming cultural exhibit. She played her part to perfection and Loki looked on with pride, pleased as a sated vulture over her cleanly-picked carcass. He approved that she was behaving. It made her feel nauseous.
As the hours rolled on, she was worried that it would become unbearable to keep up her mask, feeling this way. When Magnus was finally able to make his way to her past the eager strangers, he lavished her with praise and compliments. How different these were. From Magnus' they were honest beams of light in her pitch dark moments. He meant what he said. He had no ulterior motive; no plans of conquest.
“Thank you, Magnus, truly. Once again your kindness is saving me,” he could see the utter devastation in her eyes.
“Lea, darling, what's wrong?”
“I'm a pawn to him, Magnus. Nothing more. This has nothing to do with me. I've been currency all along and I was told has much. I was just foolish enough to think I might have come to mean more to him. I thought I saw something changing, but I was so wrong.”
Magnus didn't have the heart to answer. He knew that she was half-right. Loki never did anything without several motives, many of them underhanded, or at least strategic. He knew no other way to do things, even when  trying to express genuine love. There was a kernel of good intentions in his actions, Magnus was sure of it, but she didn't deserve the disorienting capriciousness of his means. So the good doctor simply held her closer as they danced, and rubbed little comforting circles on her back. She laid her head on his shoulder, feeling utterly broken, and he gladly let her. Loki saw them out of the corner of his eye as he swanned around the room and felt his blood run cold with jealousy. It snapped him into a decision.
When the party was dying down and guests began to leave. Lea kept her mask up, graciously playing the part and bidding everyone proper and elegant farewells as she was taught. All of a sudden, Loki grabbed her by the wrist. “Come with me,” he said with an odd tone, gentle but commanding.
“What's the matter?” she asked as they arrived to a quiet corner of the hall.
He took a deep breath and held her fragile wrist tentatively, looking deeply into her inky eyes. He lifted the other hand to cup her face. “Come to my bedchamber tonight. It's...it's not an order or a command. I won't force you. You just look so lovely tonight. I've never seen you more radiant...and... ”
She looked crushed. She was brokenhearted and furious at being used, but needled by the suspicion that maybe she really did mean more to him. Did he not realize that her poise and dignity had been an act all night and that she was feeling so miserable? She shook her head, obviously pained by what she was about to say. “I can't, Loki...”
Loki's face changed from a look of sensitivity to dark rage in an instant. “Why? Because you love him?” he growled out, nodding to where Magnus stood unaware of the exchange on the other side of the hall. Without realizing he gripped harder on her cheek, into her hair. The hand around her wrist tightened. She could feel that there would be livid bruises.
“Loki, it's that I'm afraid...”
“Afraid...” he said huffing. “Afraid of me when I've given you everything, lavished you with every comfort, made you a masterpiece and refined you into this magnificent creature before me. Afraid of me, are you? You called me a monster once. You know what you are Lenora? Just a weak, indecisive, fearful child, scared of all the monsters under your bed...a coward. You have no idea how lucky you are to have had this place at my side the last few months. Every woman in this empire would grovel for the opportunity and affections I have given you so freely. I was hoping you would warm my bed tonight, but really any substitute will do and unlike you she will be grateful for my favor.”
With that Loki snapped from his rage into a perfect fake mask of easy charm. He strode over to the nearest buxom courtier and began to charm her with his silver tongue. In moments the pair were strolling to his chambers. Lea couldn't help letting her wide eyes follow Loki's every move until he left. She was totally dumbstruck by the torrent of cruelty just expelled upon her. Now Magnus noticed Loki leaving with the woman on his arm, and Lea's face of horror and shock. He quickly came to her side.
“Lea? God, what has that prick done now?”
She couldn't speak. Couldn't find any words as the fog of dissociation came over her like a thick blanket to protect her from reality. As always, though, Magnus understood.
“Let me walk you back. You want to leave don't you?”
She nodded.
“I can stay and talk if you want, or I can go straight away, Lea. Whatever you need.”
She nodded again, unable to speak, but she wanted to say Please stay. I don't want to be so alone.
Sitting on the floor by the fireplace with tumbler after tumbler of liquor, Lea and Magnus talked late into the night. She told him everything that had happened. Magnus was crushed for her but not surprised. “Look at me, Lea,” he said, fixing her with those sincere green eyes. “You're no coward. You're not weak. He's the weak one. He's a cruel, fragile narcissist and you never deserved any of his abuse. You're the last person who deserves it.”
Sitting there on floor, her large pale violet gown sprawled out around her, he thought she looked like a fairy tale princess whose curse could be lifted with a kiss, but she was made of stronger stuff than that. A queen, he thought. She looked like a benevolent queen considering her masterful strategy, the weight of her kingdom on her shoulders. For all Loki boasted about his philosopher-king ideals, the bitter irony was that she, a refugee, deserved that throne more than him.
Lea found she couldn't speak anymore. She was rung out of words like a dishcloth of soapy water.  She screwed up her eyes. She refused to cry over this dangerous petulant man. How his cruelty had cut to her marrow, precisely because of its kernel of truth. His torrent of insults was precise and articulate in its damage. The words rang in her head: weak...coward.
“I'm sorry,” she finally managed to gasp out, now unable to cry. It had already been locked away into the box within her.
“No no no. Don't be sweet Lea...not for one second! I want you to talk to me,” he said, sliding closer to her on the floor. “Can I please just hold you?” he asked carefully. “I don't meant to be inappropriate. I just thought ...well maybe you could use a hu...” Before he could finish his nervous ramble she had her arms around him, nuzzling her head into his warm chest. He smelled like spring; like lemon trees and fresh grass. It felt so different than when she had hugged Loki this way, pressed into his cold armor, and his sharp wintry smell of mint and pine. He slowly laid back on the floor pulling her to his side to hold her more tightly. He kissed the top of her head, just as Loki had. “You really were spectacular tonight, the way you held it together. You've been spectacular since you got here...and so brave before that...surviving as you did. But no one can hold it together forever.”
“Maybe he's right, Magnus. Maybe I am just a coward. I've been afraid for so long of so many things. I always just tried to make myself very very useful and easy to deal with, so I can earn being kept and led around by people more powerful than I am. I'm always scrambling to be safe somewhere...anywhere. I've kept from being dead, but I'm not very alive either.”
“Wanting to be safe doesn't make your a coward, Lea. I think you're the bravest person I've ever met. Don't let him get into your head like that...and, this is very much beside the point...but I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't remind you that you look gorgeous tonight.”
She snickered at that despite her sadness. “Thank you. I don't feel beautiful now. I feel weak.”
“Lea, you were beautiful the moment I saw you run up that hill with those bloody swords to stand up to him, and the more I get to know you...well, you only seem more and more beautiful.”
She held him so tightly at that, past any words.
“I'm so tired.”
“Come up here,” he said moving to the couch and gesturing for her to curl next to him.
“I'm going to fall asleep, Magnus. Then you won't be able to get up.”
“I don't need to get up. I don't want you to be alone. As long as you don't mind me being here.”
“No...no. I want you here. I don't want to be alone,” she mumbled holding tighter to him as he wrapped his arms around her stroking her gently as they both fell into a dark dreamless sleep.
@gigglingtigger @lokisgoodgirl @lokisprettygirl (Thank you!)
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blueempty · 7 months
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Someone forgot to pay the cloud bill bro they shut off our clouds
Didn't quite sleep enough but my partner made pancakes this morning. Then since I got paid I went to our local boba place for lunch before work. They had been using some kind of mexican food wrappers for their sandwiches for a while but they must've run out cuz they're back to normal. It was just funny seeing bahn mi wraped in sombreros and cacti and stuff lol
Me and my brother have some deep ass philosophical conversations about shit at work that are lost like tears in rain every time we leave, I wish we could figure out what to do a podcast about. I guess you can just talk about nothing if you talk enough. People would get sick of me shitting on Sonic Frontiers though
While I was mentally preparing to go into the cleanroom I finished what I believe to be the last low rank village gathering quest in Monster Hunter GU. So now I'm in this gauntlet of fighting the low rank versions of half the games monsters and its gonna be fun cuz striker Longsword goes stupid. You still have to try though, like, man, I was playing Rise the other day and I love that game but I need to institute some sort of handicap cuz I feel like I'm losing brain cells when I play that game. You're so overpowered. Especially Longsword and Swaxe. I gotta get rid of evade extender
The stars were fuckin mentol tonight. The first pic I didn't even adjust thats just how they looked. I was staring up for like 10 minutes outside work
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Peace and Long Life
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aidanchaser · 1 year
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I have to give you a huge shout out! Went to a Harry Potter trivia tonight and one of the questions was what is the name of Hagrid’s three headed dog and what is the creature name. I was one of like three people to guess Cerberus! All because of you! Just another reason I am OBSSESSED with your AU!
#where is Fluffy now? #where did he live BEFORE #so many questions about Fluffy
oh wow damn that's so much better than my harry potter trivia story where they asked "how did barty crouch escape azkaban" and I was like "he turned into a weasel" and they were like "no??? he polyjuiced to be his mum???" and I was like "oh i mean that was part of it too yeah"
I'm so glad you enjoy the AU and thank you for stopping by to say so. I like to think after the incidents of the philosopher's stone, fluffy was given to a shelter called "Crups and Pups" run by a kind magical family and he lived happily playing with all his magical dog friends and hagrid cried very large tears for many days
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reine-du-sourire · 2 years
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Hurting For You - AstraLowelle - Batman (Comics) [Archive of Our Own]
(The very worst thing, thinks Bruce miserably as he knocks on the bathroom door, is watching those that one cares about in pain with there being nothing to fight.)
Bruce used to think that the very worst thing was watching those that one cared about in pain while being unable to fight to protect them. 
He was right.
But the very worst thing, thinks Bruce miserably as he knocks on the bathroom door, is watching those that one cares about in pain with there being nothing to fight.
“Don’t,” rasps a frantic voice from the other side. “Don’t come in. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.”
Running water. Splashing.
“I won’t,” Bruce says, just loud enough for Eddie to hear him. “Not coming in. I- when you’re ready. I’ll be in the sitting room.”
The sound of something being knocked over. A hiss of indrawn breath that's half growl, half sob.
Bruce's heart clenches.
Because all he can do is walk away. 
He can't do anything, he can't fight, he can't do a thing. 
Alfred confirms that several pairs of plastic disposable gloves were taken from the kitchen earlier.
“Five?” Bruce asks quietly.
The butler nods.
It’s better than the rubber ones, at least.
Eddie pads quietly into the sitting room some three-quarters of an hour later, clad in a sweatshirt a couple of sizes too large, a pair of sweatpants, and a set of thick fuzzy socks that do not have a hope of a prayer of a chance whatsoever of matching absolutely anything, each other included. 
Damp, neatly combed red hair smells of cucumber. 
Both hands are enveloped up to the wrists in all five pairs of the missing plastic gloves.
Without saying a word, he climbs onto the couch beside Bruce and curls up, his face in his knees.
Bruce is silent too. 
“Thanks for not trying to help,” Edward mumbles, after a moment.
“I’m trying now,” Bruce responds. It earns him a muffled snort.
“They used to. Try to help. Took away the soap. Made things worse.”
Eddie doesn’t talk about Arkham very much anymore. Bruce figures this is a good thing. 
"You'd think it would help, wouldn't you?"
"I wouldn't know."
"It doesn't."
Silence again.
"You can tell Alfred I'm sorry I took his stock. Mine ran out."
Bruce knows not to touch, not to squeeze Eddie's shoulder or stroke his hair or rub his back. "You know you can take whatever you want in this house."
"They're not even for- they just hurt now. My hands."
"Did you put lotion on?"
Another snort. "Of course. Guess how many times?- actually, I managed to stop at three."
"That's good."
"Took a shower. After."
"That's good too. Are you hungry?"
Eddie shakes his head.
"Can I touch you?"
Another shake.
Silence again.
"I'll feel better," Edward says, eventually. "On the promised day that never comes."
"Is that a riddle?"
"Yep."
Bruce thinks for a moment. 
Eddie stretches, long and cat-like, and promptly curls up again. 
With a sigh, Bruce figures it out. 
"It is, technically, tomorrow," he points out. "Just under a different name."
"You're awfully philosophical tonight."
"Just thinking."
"Hurting."
"Hurting for you," Bruce agrees. "You haven't had it this bad in a while."
Eddie nods, and then groans.
"What?"
"Not sure if I shut the bathroom door."
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elytrafemme · 2 years
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uhm 👉🏽👈🏽 so okay uHHH number 10 and 60 ( my question is: what’s something positive that’s happened to u recently :D )
10. Do you friends or family know about your Blog?
So one of my IRL friends, my best friend of like fuck it must be 7 or so years by now maybe 6 probably something like that, follows this blog but xe is literally never on tumblr so xe has not seen any of my inane ramblings. I should text xem I'll do that in a sec
Aside from that my GF knows that I have a blog but I havent said the URL so when we want to send tumblr posts to each other we just take shitty photos of our laptop screens so its all pixelated and shit then text one another
everyone else no no no no NO aboslutely NOT
60. What's something positive that's happened to you recently?
hm. huh. well I wrote a lot of words for CS today which was really nice and yeah I had other shit to do but the amount I wrote means I'm pretty much clear from having to stress about CS for at least a few days so I'll have time to do other stuff. so that was pretty lovely.
i dunno dude. I think everything is positive pretty much. I've been in a weird space bc being slightly off physically kind of does that to you, at least to me, no matter how frequent it happens I sitll get thrown off when I'm physically unwell. but like. there are birds outside and lovely songs to listen to and I was on a VC with some friends yesterday and I got to just listen to them tell stories and I really love when people tell stories. and my mom folded up a pair of linen pants I really like when I threw them off yesterday presumably delirious and my sister helped me open up a box of pudding and my mutual texted me a link to a really beautiful play. and it was sunny this morning and it might be sunny tomorrow but if it isn't than the flowers will be full of water and keep living. I haven't given up on learning the guitar yet. mother just came in to tell me what pain meds to take tonight
anyway point being. I dunno how to answer that because it doesn't always feel like something strongly positive has stuck out to me but like everything is positive. the shitty things are negative obviously but there is positive stuff in every corner. and there's only shitty stuff sometimes. and the positive stuff doesn't go away when it gets shitty. so no matter how apathetic I get there's a lot
sorry this is a very philosophical answer I dunno I just have difficulty naming one positive thing that's happened. I've been thinking about how much I love my friends and how painful and lovely that is it's like breathing you know? maybe that's my no. 1 positive thing. I guess I just hope they know and maybe they don't yet but either way it's good. we'll all get there eventually.
also extra positive thing but you've said like just a few days ago you were a bit intimidated interacting but you've been in my asks a LOT and that's been really nice so that's extra good. one of my favorite things in the world. when people see me as the circus clown fool i am and are less afraid. i dunno I think you're cool I think the world is cool we should all go to a river and skip some stones Im very bad at that though.
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lookedlikethebins · 8 months
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hiiii can you do 16 and 41 for the fic writer qsss
💖
hi!!! thank you for sending these in! I feel like a Real (fic) Writer here now ty xo 💌
16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?
I have about five ideas going at the moment! Although sometimes ideas will show up in other fics and not fit so they spin out into their own fic so... five will probably multiply while I'm Not Looking.
And I have one that was supposed to be one shortish one that is now two (maybe three?) chapters! I hope to get to its final edits tonight or tomorrow but the idea is: George hints at them getting married but Matty, ever the philosophical and Conceptual Guy, doesn't Get It the hint and sort of just turns the conversation away with the explanation of and distaste for all the fanfare of weddings (because it's not about everyone else showing up to see them say i love you, it's only about them together acknowledging their commitment. but he doesn't say that out loud... so George just thinks he hates the idea). It takes Matty making a throw away comment to his therapist (who kind of just "excuse me what did you say to George... about what?") to see he maybe... accidentally... turned George down. He fixes this immediately. (and that's chapter 1. guess what chapter 2 is...)
41. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?
A little of both! I'll reread shorter ones usually because I will have liked the pacing and arc of it and liked the experience of it all at unfolding during one read (longer ones usually take me a while so it'll be like. over the span of a week or something lol). BUT sometimes regardless of how long it is some writers just have a gift for prose and I must read it again.
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necessaryvent · 2 years
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Nervous about being nervous. But fuck that. I will break that cycle. 
Honestly, I'm probably going to write this journal as if you already know me. I might not always be bothered going into back stories. This really is my journal. You can read along for my hot mess moments - I'm sure you'll pick it all up in good time. This is first and foremost for me. I won't care if nobody reads. Honestly. I'm not here to impress. These are my most unfiltered thoughts. My therapy.
As my first post describes, I used to have a livejournal account but deleted it when I reflected on the fact that it's Russian owned. I am so sorry for the innocent Russians caught up in that conflict but I just have to do something that feels right for the common cause and I hope they will understand. Putin is a dick.
So here I am on Tumblr and tonight's journal entry is actually about my (kind of) ex husband. We are on good terms. We will reassess next year whether we want to reconcile or go ahead with divorce. Like I said, we've been getting along well. We have more cycles to break and more space that we need to keep between us while we work ourselves out as individuals. He needs to sort through some of his selfish shit and I need to be more selfish and also less co-dependent. Less triggered by him (doesn't mean some of his actions have been excusable or anything - just that I let him be my whole emotional world for so long and I want to know what it's like to not wrap my whole well-being and moods up in what he's doing or not doing). I want to know if one day we can be together without falling into old toxic patterns or whether we are better off as friends and family (we have kids). I don't want to be an emotional mess anymore in my life. Not over him. So we are taking time to work on ourselves and for me that means keeping a standard.
Anyway, we've been getting close and feeling more secure with each other. Optimistic even. There's a long way to go but we are remembering the good things about each other and feeling affection. We get together with the kids for family time and we are 99% getting along well. The other 1% is those triggering issues we are trying to watch out for which just reminds us why we are taking life very slowly and separately for the most part. No rushing in until we've given our all into healing and growing individually.
Anyway, I'm getting a little nervous now that we are getting along. We've set a date for a date. Without the kids. A silly event that we will both enjoy in November. It will be good timing to see if we really can catch up alone and have it be an indicator of future romance. Maybe shit will fall apart before then, maybe it won't. But after spending months just putting one foot in front of the other and being more 'present' instead of getting ahead of myself (my therapist would be impressed because I am great at being 500 steps ahead of myself), this makes me realise there are upcoming events that make me nervous. I keep reminding myself to stay in the here and now. To be philosophical about that November date. To not put extra pressure on myself or him and just let things flow until then.
I guess I feel nervous about feeling nervous. I feel like I am used to a pattern of him pulling the rug out from under us every time things get good. I remind myself that if he keeps doing that, it's just good information that supports us just being friends and that's OK. I'm strong. It took courage to separate. It has taken courage to be where I am now (living my worst fear which was being separated and all that came along with that). If I had to keep going alone I absolutely could. And with his friendship and support as the father of my kids I really could be OK too. Would I like romance and a beautiful future with us together as a healthy nuclear family? Of course! It's the dream, isn't it? And there is love and attraction between us. My genuine intuition says we are not done with one another. And if we are meant to be, then we have our whole lives ahead so may as well do things right.
But I don't want to get lost in a fantasy either. I want to be placed firmly in reality. I'll know when I know what I'm meant to know, you know?
I feel like maybe I'm ready to do some self sabotaging because I'm nervous so this journal entry is an attempt to remind myself not to do that. To take some space if I need to. Just be cool!
I am also writing this because I want to get that nervous energy and insecurity and potential to obsess over him out of my system for the night so I don't lose sleep over him (a thing I am working on not doing because I do not want to let him steal my energy anymore - I was so overly invested in his every little thought and action and I don't want to do that anymore no matter what happens between us).
Right now we are good. Right now a new week is about to begin. A busy week with my own life to think about. And I am glad I am finding myself again. That's important. So I can obsess over him in my journal for a few minutes but then I get back to me. Which is how it should be.
You have no idea how far I've come. Honestly. And I am determined to go further.
Goodnight new journal.
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minecraftkidnapping · 2 years
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Something happened to me tonight, I'm not sure what it was, but I've been suddenly filled with total clarity that I probably should kill myself, not even in a sad way, but that I just have no reason to stay alive, not even for the sake of life itself, or for the sake of others around me. I don't want to, I'm likely not going to do it, but where I used to freak out about it I now just feel nothing. I guess I've just been freaking out about it lately. I just been thinking, even if I lived a great and long life, I'm going to die anyway. How much I accomplish will mean nothing as those affected will die as well. I don't know what's after death. I don't want to see my friends die. I also don't want to see my parents die. But I guess I don't want my parents to see me die either. I have problems understanding death. Like, as a concept. It just doesn't work in my head. I guess getting like this occasionally is just my minds way of practicing understanding. I don't like killing things anymore maybe. I'm a huge hypocrite, I kill things all the time. I enjoyed it. I think I still do, yeah? Maybe. I wish I was an animal with an inherent understanding and acceptance of its own death. I guess I just can't let go. There's nothing I can do really. I just feel so insanely at the end of my life that it feels like if I do anything I will be killed. I am an incredibly mentally unstable person but regardless of if I'm on any medications, it will not stop these thoughts. I'm an innate philosopher, at least within my sprawling mind-palace, and this problem is just a facet of myself at this point. It's something I'll grapple with until I die. Its such a worthless cycle as well, because, well, I'll be dead anyway. So why is it such a pervasive idea? Surely it resurfaces when I'm unhappy? That's literally the problem. But if you're always unhappy, at least at the core of your self, you will have to face it. And you, my friend, are completely unsatisfiable. As your mind spirals into itsself, so does the situation youre in. But can it be escaped? I literally don't know. This is something to endure, as opposed to solve, as your base nature can't be changed. But, however, your base nature is that of inactivity as well, so no action to actually kill yourself will be taken.
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jacensolodjo · 2 years
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Someone: Don't get mad! Mad doesn't help anything! If you stay angry at someone you're just hurting yourself more! Haven't you ever heard of 'turn the other cheek'?
Judaism: Disturb us, Adonai, ruffle us from our complacency. Make us dissatisfied. Dissatisfied with the peace of ignorance, the quietude which arises from a shunning of the horror, the defeat, the bitterness and the poverty, physical and spiritual, of humans. Shock us, Adonai, deny to us the false Shabbat which gives us delusions of satisfaction amid a world of war and hatred; Wake us, O God, and shake us from the sweet and sad poignancies rendered by half forgotten melodies and rubric prayers of yesteryears; Make us know that the border of the sanctuary is not the border of living and the walls of Your temples are not shelters from the winds of truth, justice and reality. Disturb us, O God, and vex us; let not Your Shabbat be a day of torpor and slumber; let it be a time to be stirred and spurred to action. - Rabbi Mitchell Salem Fisher, Mishkan Tefilah, 173
Me: Mm. Sorry, nothing around here about letting shit go and turning the other cheek! In fact, we ask God to help us gather our anger and frustration and put it to good use.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 
And that’s just one example from the prayer book. To say nothing of the commands to NOT let shit go, to use anger to drive change, in the Torah and entries in the Talmud. Anger gets so much shit done in the Torah. One would have to question if we read the same Torah if you get nothing out of it except be a welcome mat. For example, the story of Konach is not in fact ‘don’t be angry’ it is actually ‘be angry correctly’. Be angry about the right things. Use your anger to better the world around you, for the people around you. Don’t let it fester (do not hold anger in your heart for your kin; Ecclesiastes), use it to change things around you. May all who despair find purpose (Mishkan Tefilah). 
The primary Jewish quality is action. This is repeated over and over, in differing ways but still the meaning is clear e.g. “As Jews have kept Shabbat so has Shabbat kept the Jews.” We must act to bring about Shalom. We must act in the name of charity, in the name of helping our friends, family, and neighbors. Anger is just something that helps steel us for the fight ahead, in many cases (i.e. social justice).
We seek shalom, peace. Only when we accept our anger, can we find peace with it. Allow it to give us a bit of drive, anger as fuel. Then let it go. Not before. Stifling anger, bottling it, does nothing good for us. And saying ‘don’t get angry’ is unhelpful. We were given the ability to feel anger for a reason. It is a tool. Control it not the other way around. This is what the teachings say. 
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bigskydreaming · 2 years
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Tbh I vastly prefer stories that introduce very important, far-reaching questions only to reach the conclusion ‘I don’t have the answer to this I just know that its worth looking for one’ over stories that conclude ‘I definitely have the answer and its This.’
Just because ‘I don’t know’ isn’t the absolute answer to an important question, that doesn’t mean its not a valid answer in its own right. 
Especially when paired with the idea that not all questions actually HAVE answers, because life is not a written exam to be passed or failed, so much as like....idk, a map we’re still constantly in the process of making day by day, century by century, generation by generation, with no idea what the end result is going to look like because it literally doesn’t EXIST yet, its not a paint by numbers map that already has a complete outline just waiting for us to fill the rest of it in and that’s it, that’s when we’ll finally have the complete picture and all the answers.
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