I just received a mail from my prof, which was for the entire course, and below he adds “A fellow student recommended me this video about the history of the universe” and then there’s a link and I click it and it’s actually “History of the entire world, I guess”. This is so weird. I feel so uncomfortable lol
one day, frustrated at sirius’s distracting roughhousing and lack of consideration, remus lupin turns in his seat and shouts, “i told you to be quiet because some of us have exams tomorrow! i’m dead serious about this, so if you could please take your rioting elsewhere i’d appreciate it!”
to remus’s dismay, sirius merely snickers, “dead sirius, huh? poor moony, struggling to study for exams he’s already prepared for,” and proceeds to repeat “dead sirius” exaggeratedly to the gryffindor common room at large. after a little while sulking over his arithmancy, remus good-naturedly gives in to the inevitable as usual, joining in the common room fun.
from then on, remus’s frequent, often inadvertent use of “i’m dead serious!” becomes the butt of many of sirius’s jokes. remus learns to use the phrase sparingly, but it still pops out unawares from time to time as remus scolds sirius in an angry or emotional state. fond as he is of padfoot, remus tries to dissuade sirius from his constant puns, but the amusingly annoying habit sticks.
nearly twenty years later, remus lupin finds himself back in hogwarts, not for class but for battle, not for learning or teaching but for spells roared in anger and fear, wand slashing violently, nearly a blur. lights flash, almost blinding him, and as remus falls, wand clattering down the stone corridor, he remembers one day many years ago filled with warmth and laughter and wordplay. smiling ever so slightly, remus lupin murmurs for the last time, “i’m dead, sirius”–and thus professor lupin’s last words are a shared joke, a fond memory, and an ironic twist of fate.
they say grief is a well. deep with creeping water that seeps first into your socks. it climbs like ivy, making an abandoned building out of your bones.
i can see it. the well, i mean, the grief and the water and the creeping. i can see it.
i think grief is more like a storm. clouds that hug the horizon, caress the sky with fingers that leave bruises the colour of the skin under your eyes when you haven’t slept for a week.
lightning bolts that illuminate the shapes in the dark for just long enough that you get to see remnants of a normal life, picnic blankets not abandoned to rain, beaches covered with sand and not hail, but the light never lasts.
and thunder. thunder that drowns out the sound of laughter. thunder that only knows how to emphasise the gaps of quiet in between each earth shaking sigh.
they say that grief is a well, it collects in your chest and fills and spills over as the walls wage war with the water. i can see it. i can. but my grief is more like a storm where lightning likes to strike the same place a thousand times each day.
“Sometimes I look at Kelli O’Hara and I think all the girls in the fairy tales were based on her. She’s beautiful. She’s funny. She’s smart. She sings like nobody on the planet. She dances like Ginger Rogers— I don’t even think she knew that, but she does. She’s been in nine Broadway shows. She’s been nominated for five Tony Awards. She has an amazing husband, two wonderful children, and makes a mean grits casserole. She’s performed in everything from South Pacific to King Lear to our own The Bridges of Madison County, this season. She’s appeared with the New York Philharmonic, been on Sex and the City, performed at Carnegie Hall, and three times at the Kennedy Center Honors, But here’s the deal, folks: Kelli O’Hara is no princess. Bart Sher says that what makes Kelli so spectacular is that she is a woman on stage. She brings a woman’s understanding and emotion to every part she plays. She will not let a word or a lyric get by her that isn’t right. And when everything is right, she falls into your arms and you cannot imagine ever being loved by anybody else.”
Happy 41st Birthday to the best there is, Kelli O’Hara!
Tsukuyomi or Tsukiyomi [月読], also known as Tsukiyomi-no-mikoto, is the moon god in Shinto and Japanese mythology. Unlike the myths of ancient Greece or Rome, the Japanese moon deity is male.
Tsukuyomi was the second of the “three noble children” born when Izanagi-no-Mikoto, the god who created the first land of Onogoro-shima, was cleansing himself of his sins while bathing after escaping the underworld and the clutches of his enraged dead wife, Izanami-no-Mikoto. Tsukuyomi was born when he washed out of Izanagi’s right eye. After climbing a celestial ladder, Tsukuyomi lived in the heavens, also known as Takamagahara, with his sister Amaterasu Ōmikami, the sun goddess.
Tsukuyomi angered Amaterasu when he killed Uke Mochi, the goddess of food. Amaterasu had sent Tsukuyomi to represent her at a feast presented by Uke Mochi. She’d made the food by turning to the ocean and spitting out a fish, then faced the forest and poured game from her mouth, and finally turned to a rice paddy and coughed up a bowl of rice. Tsukuyomi was utterly disgusted by the fact that, although the repast looked exquisite, the meal was made in a disgusting manner, and so he killed her. Soon, Amaterasu learned what had transpired; in her fury, she refused to ever look at Tsukuyomi again, forever moving to another part of the sky. This is the reason that day and night are never together.
Saiyuki high school AU…! Because I love high school AUs. Honestly Goku’s lines came from me thinking about my love for spinach so there. I confess. I just had Goku saying it because after thinking this, I thought ‘that’s so Goku, though?’ and I needed a reason for him to say stuff like this so I made a HS AU where Ten was the English teacher because he’d probably assign something like this.
Also…if I wasn’t so sleepy I’d have added Gojyo and Banri laughing, teasing Goku or something but…alas. Maybe I’d do more of these some time! x’)
summary: They represent all the virtues, Kaname thinks he remembers reading. Justice and kindness, loyalty and honesty. They won’t stand to be around a person found wanting. They won’t visit impure or unhappy places.
Kaname wakes up to a tapping on his
bedroom window. When he lifts his head, groggily, and squints through
the dark, it’s to find Natsume’s face peering at him from the other
side of the glass. For a moment or two, Kaname is suspended
uncomprehendingly in something of a liminal space – and then, a
heartbeat later, he makes sense of what he’s seeing and shoots
upright, scrambling across the room.
“What are you doing here?” Kaname
asks, once he’s slid the window open and warm summer night air has
had a chance to stretch its languid fingers inside. He’s rubbing
sleep from his eyes, more awake with every second, and the massive
creature Natsume is riding on becomes less and less defined as he
does. Still, Kaname says, “Hello, Ponta.”
Before the yokai can get a word in
edgewise, Natsume says, “Come with me. I want to show you
His tawny hair is tousled, and his
face is chapped pink from flying too fast against the wind, and his
clothes are more ruffled than Kaname’s pajamas probably are – but
his eyes are impossibly bright in the moonlight, and the curve of his
smile is wide and infectious, and when he puts out his hand, Kaname
(When he puts out his hand, there’s
nothing else in the world Kaname can think of to do but take it.)
The word BOBE came to me in a dream. It sounds like Boba, but with the “eh” sound instead of the “ah”, and the exact meaning was lost when I woke up, but the general feeling it gave me was the color pink.