#sid speaks

[sighonaraa]

having a favorite character from a piece of media you haven’t seen but one of your mutuals is unwell about is like. that’s my nepo blorbo from the gifsets,

[arttheclown]

to my fellow fans of animation and film in general: please please please, see puss in boots: the last wish in theatres if you get the chance. i mean it. it has no right being as good as it is and i’m very sad that there’s so little talk about it here on tumblr. i enjoyed every single character; they all serve a narrative purpose and everyone’s arcs are meaningful, including the worst of the villains. the worldbuilding & how the narrative plays with classic fairytale lore is extremely fun — a loving callback to early shrek that still feels like its own thing. the character designs are excellent. the animation is spider-verse levels of insane, with several transitionary moments that had my jaw on the floor. the music is beautiful. i was shocked by how just how dark the movie was willing to get at times, too; dealing with themes like death, mortality, animal / child abuse, commitment issues, and toxic masculinity. there’s a depiction of a panic attack that hit so close to home for me i was almost in tears, especially how they chose to resolve it. it was very touching and true to real life, which isn’t something you’d expect from a fantastical cartoon.

in an industry that’s being dominated by disney, we need to support films like this now more than ever or we’re not going to have many more of them. give it a shot if you can — i promise you won’t regret it.

[posting-for-the-void]

my parents read to me before bedtime when i was a kid and it was supposed to make me smart but instead it made me a whole ass adult who reads fanfic before i go to bed every night as a little routine

[napinthecemetery]

not even joking when i say dark souls 1 taught me how to persevere in the face of hardship... no matter how much i yelled and hit myself and cried (lmao) while fighting ornstein and smough, i still stuck it out because i loved dks1 so much and was able to experience the euphoria of beating them for the first time... thank you so fucking much dark souls 1 for my life

[sapphodera]

Going to make this for dinner (but with strawberry jam and pre cooked bacon from the fridge). Will let you know how it goes.

[sidneyishere]

oops i died

[sapphohod]

I’m bored of sidmare I need new username suggestions

[sideways-hedghog]

Something that always amazes me is that we're somehow taught that we can't customise things. Like sure, sewing takes time to learn and not everyone has access to fancy art materials etc. but all you need is a plain shirt and some safety pins or cheap acrylic paint. It doesn't have to be good. It doesn't have to be drastic. But you'll never learn if you never start.

I didn't magically learn embroidery, or sewing, or even how to draw over night I messed around and let myself mess up, but I never told myself I couldn't do it. And now I've sewn my own prom and ball dresses, I have an almost entirely DIYed or second hand wardrobe, I know I can do whatever I want to my clothes and I'll always look unique because everything I have is an assortment of my love and tears.

Go bleach that shirt, embroider that jacket, paint that hoodie, safety pin that skirt. You've got this.

[sighonaraa]

percy and grover swapping sandwich toppings without having to ask each other is actually something that can be so personal

[sighonaraa]

more than anything this show is making me achieve new heights of grover sympathy. imagine being 24 and forced to herd two feral cat 12 year olds on a cross country road trip for an entire week.

[sighonaraa]

i am now so fully invested in river and lamb’s awkward slow burn journey to being father and son it’s concerning… i just. clenches fist. i love mentor/mentee dynamics that blur the line into You’re My Dad Now, Actually.

[sighonaraa]

writing friendship is so much fun actually more people should write friendship. u get to do all sorts of insane exciting things like have characters tell other characters that they love each other and want to be in their lives forever and it’s all platonic and everything is beautiful. let’s get more people on this stat.

[sighonaraa]

augusnippets day 8 -- reunion/found family!

“Do you think I have gotten too tall?” Sam asks Jamie abruptly, rounding on him with such intensity that Jamie, unwittingly, takes a half-step backwards, eyes blown wide. “Please tell me that you brought a measuring tape.”

“Why the fuck would I bring a measuring tape to the airport,” says Jamie. “And what’re you on about, you’ve gotten too tall?”

“What if he doesn’t recognize me?” Sam says, bringing the corner of his thumb to his mouth only for Jamie to tap it away before he can gnaw. “If I’ve gotten too tall, what if he doesn’t recognize me and he leaves without us and he’s lost out in the city for weeks—”

Oh. Oh. “Mate,” Jamie says, fond, “that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Sam bristles, so Jamie clasps him by the shoulders; presses his thumbs to the hollows of his friend’s collarbone hard enough that he hopes the warmth of his body, the steadiness of it, will seep into Sam’s and allow him to settle. “Your dad would still recognize you if you grew ten eyes and dyed your hair bleach blond. Swear down, he’d probably love you even more.”

“I just don’t think that can possibly be true,” says Sam.

“No, no, ’cause he’d have to love you more to make up for all the self-esteem issues you gained on account of having ten eyes.”

Sam searches Jamie’s face as though he can’t quite believe that was an actual sentence spoken into being, and Jamie takes it as a massive win because if Sam is stuck on the whole ‘ten-eyes-bleach-blond-hair’ of it all, then he’s not stuck on the whole ‘it’s-been-a-year-since-I-saw-my-dad-and-I’m-scared-I’ve-changed-more-than-either-of-us-are-ready-for’ of it all. Finally, Sam’s expression softens, the mountain-peak crease between his brows eases into a vague hill, and he smiles, tremulous and then brighter, brighter, brighter.

“That,” he says, “might now be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” He returns Jamie’s hold, hands to shoulders, and then draws them together for an embrace that Jamie melts into, every fiber of his being aching for the simple press of Sam’s brow to his neck, for the soft scratchiness of his palm to the crown of Sam’s head. “Thank you. I know I’m being—”

“Shut up,” Jamie whispers. “You ain’t being stupid.”

Sam shifts; huffs a little laugh that tickles at Jamie’s skin. “I was going to say that I’m being silly, actually, thank you very much.”

“Oh. But you were being a bit stupid, to be fair.”

“Excuse me—!”

“I must say, I am incredibly glad to see my boys getting along, but I am feeling rather left out of all this hugging.”

The voice that interrupts Sam is deep, and rumbling, and spilling over with the sort of hearth-warmth that makes Jamie think of thick, hand-knit sweaters in the winter, a proper nice pair of socks resting in front of the fireplace, hot chocolate steaming in painted mugs. He nearly cries from it, which really is stupid, and he lifts his head from where it’s buried against Sam to find Mr. Obisanya standing there with his suitcases and a blistering smile splitting across his face like it could crack him in two from the sheer force of it.

“Daddy!” Sam cries, joyful, and lunges into Mr. Obisanya’s chest. Mr. Obisanya catches him and holds him tight, cradles him close as though life never happened and Sam is still a baby. “Daddy, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you,” says Mr. Obisanya fiercely, and presses a kiss to his son’s forehead. Then, before Jamie can bolt or bury a hole in the ground to die in or hide, he glances up and says, “Jamie! Do you not wish to say hello?”

“Oh, no, I—hello, Mr. Obisanya,” Jamie says, awkward. “I just—”

“Come here,” says Mr. Obisanya. ���Join us. And, please, call me Ola. You have more than earned it.”

And when Mr. Obisanya—Ola—catches Jamie by the wrist and drags him to the hug, Jamie doesn’t resist; he brings his arms up and allows himself to melt, slow and sure as sunlight through the window, into this family that—maybe, possibly, yes—he can call his own.

[sighonaraa]

anyways i believe with the entirety of my body and soul that niko and charles should have been allowed to interact at least ONCE in a significant way. water my crops clear my skin heal the earth of all ills etc etc. they would have been so POWERFUL together.

[sighonaraa]

HELLO. I HAVE GONE FULLY UNHINGED. HAVE THIS.

“I’m not in love with you.” “Ah,” says Edwin, succeeding a pause that goes on longer than he plans it to. “I see.” “Shit, no, sorry, that’s not what I—” “Charles, you mustn’t apologize—” “No, Eds, wait, wait. That came out all wrong.” And Charles clutches Edwin’s hand tighter, so Edwin clutches back, taking strange comfort in the curve of Charles’s fingers, the ridge of his knuckles. Terrain that is somehow more familiar to Edwin than the paths he’s carved through Hell. “What I meant is, I’m not ever gonna be, like, in love with you. Romantically. I just—” His inhale is a juttering scrape of breath excavated from deep inside, and Edwin feels it as though it is his lungs that draw it in. “I love you, Edwin. I’ve always loved you. And after you confessed in Hell, I thought—well, I thought what I felt for you had to change. But it didn’t, and it won’t. I’m never gonna have a romantic notion towards anyone in the entire world, and I love you, and it’d be aces to kiss you.”

[ or: an aromantic awakening, a kiss, several bouts of crying, and a long cuddle on the couch. more or less in that order. ]

[sighonaraa]

i will always and forever stand by keeley and jamie’s friendship. they make bracelets and have hot chocolate sleepovers and paint each others’ nails and NO i will NOT be silenced. i’m correct