Jellicorn @jellicorn05 - Tumblr Blog

no the backrooms movie was so good . I love that one uh. that pirate guy. yeah that guy. you should totally watch it the movie is great

shame it’s 20 bucks to go see it and all the uhm. viewing websites have weird ads or viruses. would be great if somebody just had it available as a video. sighhhhh. guess that’s just a fantasy

robs-your-robins

Bruce: It's important to update your suit as you learn. I made the cowl into a crash helmet after my fall. The spine has extra support after Bane broke my back. These kneepads after I skidded and sliced my knees open.

Tim:

Tim: So at the start, it was really just luck, a cape, a thong between you and a coffin at the beginning?

Bruce: Yup.

bloodybigwardrobe

you have invited strangers into your home, helen pevensie, mother of four.

without the blurred sight of joy and relief, it has become impossible to ignore. all the love inside you cannot keep you from seeing the truth. your children are strangers to you. the country has seen them grow taller, your youngest daughter’s hair much longer than you would have it all years past. their hands have more strength in them, their voices ring with an odd lilt and their eyes—it has become hard to look at them straight on, hasn’t it? your children have changed, helen, and as much as you knew they would grow a little in the time away from you, your children have become strangers.

your youngest sings songs you do not know in a language that makes your chest twist in odd ways. you watch her dance in floating steps, bare feet barely touching the dewy grass. when you try and make her wear her sister’s old shoes—growing out of her own faster than you think she ought to—, she looks at you as though you are the child instead of her. her fingers brush leaves with tenderness, and you swear your daughter’s gentle hum makes the drooping plant stand taller than before. you follow her eager leaps to her siblings, her enthusiasm the only thing you still recognise from before the country. yet, she laughs strangely, no longer the giggling girl she used to be but free in a way you have never seen. her smile can drop so fast now, her now-old eyes can turn distant and glassy, and her tears, now rarer, are always silent. it scares you to wonder what robbed her of the heaving sobs a child ought to make use of in the face of upset.

your other daughter—older than your youngest yet still at an age that she cannot be anything but a child—smiles with all the knowledge in the world sitting in the corner of her mouth. her voice is even, without all traces of the desperate importance her peers carry still, that she used to fill her siblings’ ears with at all hours of the day. she folds her hands in her lap with patience and soothes the ache of war in your mind before you even realise she has started speaking. you watch her curl her hair with careful, steady fingers and a straight back, her words a melody as she tells your eldest which move to make without so much a glance at the board off to her right. she reads still, and what a relief you find this sliver of normalcy, even if she’s started taking notes in a shorthand you couldn’t even think to decipher. even if you feel her slipping away, now more like one of the young, confident women in town than a child desperately wishing for a mother’s approval.

your younger son reads plenty as well these days, and it fills you with pride. he is quiet now, sitting still when you find him bent over a book in the armchair of his father. he looks at you with eyes too knowing for a petulant child on the cusp of puberty, and no longer beats his fists against the furniture when one of his siblings dares approach him. he has settled, you realise one evening when you walk into the living room and find him writing in a looping script you don’t recognise, so different from the scratched signature he carved into the doors of your pantry barely a year ago. he speaks sense to your youngest and eldest, respects their contributions without jest. you watch your two middle children pass a book back and forth, each a pen in hand and sheets of paper bridging the gap between them, his face opening up with a smile rather than a scowl. it freezes you mid-step to find such simple joy in him. remember when you sent them away, helen, and how long it had been since he allowed you to see a smile then?

your eldest doesn’t sleep anymore. none of your children care much for bedtimes these days, but at least sleep still finds them. it’s not restful, you know it from the startled yelps that fill the house each night, but they sleep. your eldest makes sure of it. you have not slept through a night since the war began, so it’s easy to discover the way he wanders the halls like a ghost, silent and persistent in a duty he carries with pride. each door is opened, your children soothed before you can even think to make your own way to their beds. his voice sounds deeper than it used to, deeper still than you think possible for a child his age and size. then again, you are never sure if the notches on his door frame are an accurate way to measure whatever it is that makes you feel like your eldest has grown beyond your reach. you watch him open doors, soothe your children, spend his nights in the kitchen, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea with a weariness not even the war should bring to him, not after all the effort you put into keeping him safe.

your children mostly talk to each other now, in a whispered privacy you cannot hope to be a part of. their arms no longer fit around your waist. your daughters are wilder—even your older one, as she carries herself like royalty, has grown teeth too sharp for polite society— and they no longer lean into your hands. your sons are broad-shouldered even before their shirts start being too small again, filling up space you never thought was up for taking. your eldest doesn’t sleep, your middle children take notes when politicians speak on the wireless and shake their heads as though they know better, and your youngest sings for hours in your garden.

who are your children now, helen pevensie, and who pried their childhood out of your shaking hands?

homunculus-argument

Relationship statuses and how much I doubt it if you add "happily" in front of it:

Happily single: I have no reason to question that, nobody else gets to decide how you feel, and I'm happy for you.

Happily dating: Kind of weird that you'd feel the need to clarify. You know you don't have to date someone who doesn't make you happy, right?

Happily engaged: Same as previous, but more so. You know you should not be getting married to someone who doesn't make you happy, right? I'm not leaving before I know that you know.

Happily married: Could go either way tbh, but most likely you are. If someone's not actually happy with their marriage, it shows, no matter what they say.

Happily divorced: Yeah this one I have no reason to doubt. Nobody says they're happy about being divorced unless they really are happy about it.

Happily widowed: I wouldn't doubt that you are but girl did you kill him.

redstonedust

water doesn't make rocks smooth. they hired me to go down to the beach with a sander every night and smooth them myself. it's not much and it's not honest work.

derinthescarletpescatarian

Nothing makes me feel like more of an absolute fucking idiot than cooking.

derinthescarletpescatarian

An Assyrian guy put a rice recipe up here awhile back and it was the best rice I've ever eaten. The recipe? Half-cook the rice and then bake it in butter. It had somehow never occurred to me that you could do that. Of course you can do that. Did I just think the rice was allergic to the oven or something.

derinthescarletpescatarian

I cooked rice like this and had some left over so I used it to bulk out my sad pathetic watery homemade vegetable soup. To my huge surprise it turned it into the best soup I'd ever eaten. Magically gave it real body, made it textured and nurturing, held heat better, added massive depth of flavour.

Hey guys did you. Did you know that butter. Did you know that if you put fat in food it makes it more satisfying and adds textural depth. Hey did you know that some flavours aren't very soluble in water and are instead soluble in fats, so if you add some fat to your watery soup then. Then the flavours. Hey guys did you know that butter is a fat.

Mind blown super surprising in my late thirties hey guys did you know that sad watery soup can be improved with some fat? Just like sauce or meat or basically any other food which I already knew about? Did you know it works for soup as well? Did you know that some flavours are more soluble in

I have a chemistry background.

nova-loves-cats

Concept: A gender reveal party but AFTER the kid is born.

Like when the kid is 6 or 12 or 18 or 24. When the kid has decided what their gender is or isn’t.

profmeowmers

glyndarling

This is so fucking beautiful that I have no words.

mintyliciousbjd

I will always reblog this.

sandersgrey

“Tidy your room’ dmkzmsksmdksm

primarybufferpanel

Every time I see this I feel extremely fragile about ‘loving you is the easiest thing in the world’

localvoidcreature62

Babe. Are you okay?. You reblogged the “loving you is the easiest thing in the world” post twice

twinterrors29

after the war ends, Obi-Wan desperately wants to quit the Council, but Mace keeps rejecting his resignations

so Obi-Wan decides to take matters into his own hands: if he can’t resign formally, he’s going to get himself kicked off

he starts by showing up to Council meetings intoxicated, and wearing increasingly outrageous (and frequently revealing) clothing

when his own efforts fail to get any reaction out of Mace, he recruits outside assistance

he sends Anakin wearing a fake beard and mustache to attend as him (which has the side benefit of convincing Anakin that he never, ever, wants anything to do with the Council)

Cody attends wearing Obi-Wan’s clothes and lightsaber, but making no other attempt to disguise himself

Quinlan breaks in during a meeting, makes out with Obi-Wan for two minutes straight, then smashes through a window to make his daring escape

Ahsoka does her best Hondo impression and shows up to kidnap Obi-Wan in the middle of a session, with Rex and the Bad Batch (in their normal, full armor) as her dastardly pirate crew

and while certain members of the Council are outraged, Obi-Wan still can’t even get Mace to consider his resignation

of course, Mace isn’t going to tell Obi-Wan that his efforts have backfired: this is the most entertainment Mace has had in YEARS, he’s wasn’t letting Obi-Wan quit before he started this, and now at least half the reason is that he wants to see what Obi-Wan’ll try next

tenthfloorghostgirl

uni416

...There I was, veritably myself again.

uni416

This life is a F*CKING NIGHTMARE

incorrectskyrimquotes

I love everything about this.

wordfather

what in the world could i have pinned for this to happen

wordfather

its ok

pukicho

ohg

pukicho

I didn't realize this was a new meme format. Do not ever involve me in current events ever again.

hametsux

pukicho

I DID NOT SAY THAT

mishacakes

Finally! Here’s my contribution to the Valor Anthology, “Bride of the Rose Beast”. Valor is a book I’m still so happy and honored to be a part of, and you can still get the 300+ page ebook HERE for $5! Enjoy!

pigeonfinder

Hello jon. apologies for the deception, but i wanted to make sure you started reading, so i thought it best not to announce myself. I'm assuming youre alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldnt try to stop reading; there's every likelihood you'll just hurt your self. So just listen. Now, shall we turn the page and try again? We've been trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty.

pigeon count: 3

ot3

i'm more than capable of loving any piece of media if its well made enough but i can't really go full beastmode on something unless there's one specific fake guy im so enchanted with that it makes me want to light myself on fire. im a shameless favorite character goggles haver

pigeonfinder

i'm more than capable of loving any piece of media if its well made enough but i can't really go full beastmode on something unless there's one specific fake guy im so enchanted with that it makes me want to light myself on fire. im a shameless favorite character goggles haver

pigeon count: 2

ot3

arynneva

wait do people read first person stories and think they're the ones in the story???

Saw people talking about not liking first person, which is fair, but their reasoning was like "I would not do that" and I don't understand that mindset.

First person stories are still about a character. A character making their own decisions. First person isn't about you???? At least I thought it wasn't. What am I missing? I've always seen first person as just a more in-depth look into a character's mind and stricter POV. Not as a reader stand-in.