#30 Days Of Truth

[zoneofsmites]

Im of the full (possibly delusional) belief that Durge is not the species that they physically appear to be.

You’re telling me this being crafted from nothing but bhaal’s flesh and his blood - this demigod - is actually a dragonborn/tiefling/human/elf/etc.

No. This thing is bhaal’s flesh and it just happens to look like that. They’re an imitation of a species, they’re not truly a (full)mortal being, they have no heritage aside from bhaal.

As a result I’m sure there’s some…oddities.

For example, a demigod child, not fully mortal. I doubt they adhere to the lifespan of whatever species they look like. Looking younger than they should. (less so perhaps with long lived races like elfs and half-elves where that is par for the course).

A dragonborn durge that by all accounts looks like a blue dragonborn but their breathweapon is acid. A tiefling durge that seems to be a Mephistopheles tiefling but they cannot cast mage hand, instead smiting like a zariel bloodline tiefling.

An elf or tiefling durge that doesn’t read as fey or infernal trough identification spells. Because they aren’t either of those things. Perhaps they could read as divine but not quite.

Members of a race that durge is supposed to be looking at them and sometimes when making eye contact they read as wrong. And some kind of uncanny effect triggers in their brain.

Give me more freaky durge who isn’t really what they appear to be at all. Just a little murder demigod crafted from dead god flesh to be the shape of something else.

[jjneeps]

Orange shirt day tomorrow. Once again, I’m of mixed feelings. Happy that we have a day that let’s non-Indigenous people know.., but sad we even have to make a day to be noticed or cared about.

Trying to spread awareness and love.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

February: Coeli's Monochrome Picks

The Awful Truth / Irene Dunne as Lucy Warriner

One of the things I love about black and white movies is these bold designs on clothing. It feels like you don't see that so often in color movies, or maybe it just pops more in B&W because of the high contrast. The shape of this dress is also unique, as is the scarf/cravat effect in front. You might say this is the "quirky 1930s," as opposed to the sleek "classic 1930s" look from yesterday.

Costumes for this movie were designed by (Robert) Kalloch.

[homefryboy]

behold my “patrick choosing violence” collection

[whoa-myninja]

✨ 30 Days Of Tiva ✨

Calling — all Tiva fans!!!

I’m embarking on a project for July 2024 titled: #30DaysOfTiva!!

I was looking at the tag of the new show (NCIS: Tony and Ziva) on A03, and I know it has only been wrangled for a short period of time, but it made me sad to only see a very small number of fics in it — the majority being mine! (I’ve written 9/13 of them!).

Of course, I know that this will increase as time goes on, and people start adding their fics to the tag, but I thought: wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a giant arsenal of fanfiction in the tag, before the show even airs? Not just for lifelong Tiva lovers, but for newcomers to the show who may go in search for new/extra content!

Thus, the idea for 30 Days of Tiva popped into my head, and I invite all Tiva fans to participate! The more the merrier! 🥰

Rules:

✨ Upload one piece of Tiva fanfiction to A03 every day, between July 1st and July 30th.

✨They can be any length. Ideally, they’ll be one-shots, drabbles, or dialogue-only, and should all be standalones. However, if you have a multi-chapter fanfic you’d like to write, uploading one chapter every day is fine!

✨ They must be new fanfics — i.e not adding anything on to WIPs. The idea is to create as much new content as possible.

✨ There should be limited editing to each one because we’re aiming for quantity over quality. You can always go back and rewrite and the end of the challenge.

✨ Try and write as many fanfics for the new show (NCIS: Tony and Ziva) tag as possible. Of course, they can be about Tiva at any time — but it would be great to get a large bank of fanfics in the tag before the show airs!

✨ Promote your content with the hashtag #30DaysOfTiva across platforms — twitter, tumblr, and tag in the works, so anybody who wishes to search for it, can find it! 😊

~~~~~~~

Of course, everybody is welcome, even if you’re not fanfiction writers! Perhaps you make gifs, edits, manips, or artwork?! Come and join in the fun!!! Just make sure to upload one new piece of content every day from 1st to 30th July!!! 🤠

🩷

I shall do my best to upload links to each work here every day too, if I remember — but follow my twitter @guiltyastiva, just in case! 😊

🩷

If you do choose to take part — have fun, and I can’t wait to see what you choose to create! 🥰

🫶🏼

Note: Should this go semi-successfully, I may consider doing something similar again in the future!

[octoagentmiles]

If Natquik has been missing for so many years, how the heck did this guy get a hold of tea and biscuits? The octonauts find a half eaten one in the station after he leaves, so do you think he scavenges anything that gets shipwrecked? Or did he just have a fifty year supply of this stuff?

this is an EXTREMELY good question!

but. it's also, like,,, sadly, one of the few mysteries of the show that I believe can probably just be chalked up to the beautiful, wonderful magic of ✨🌈 "cartoon logic" 🌈✨

HOWEVER!! where's the fun in that??

my theory is this:

Natquik is very close with the penguins in Antarctica, and we know that those penguins travel a lot in order to get back and forth from their nesting grounds, and/or to visit family.

thus, the penguins pick up various, random extra food along their journeys, so they can bring it back to him. they've been doing this for years now.

(as for the tea, I imagine he probably took at least SOME stuff with him when he left; which could include a tea kettle, or even just a pot + mini stove.)

it's the only realistic explanation I can think of. we know Natquik's good at rationing and storing food because he tells us so in AnB, but c'mon. if he didn't perish from the cold, eating hundred year old biscuits would've done him in eventually.

I've talked about Natquik and his relationship with the penguins before, but I just gotta reiterate: I FIRMLY believe the penguins saved his life, kept him alive, sane, etc.. so yeah. I can see them bringing him leftovers from dinner like Good Neighbors and him being so grateful he forgets all about how they broke into his station last week and broke his favourite seismometer.

[existential-squid]

My mom's making me put my money where my mouth is, and now I have to draw Garfield as a butch catgirl. This happens every time.

[blackwolfstabs]

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 1

TRUTH

takes place the night Scream VI ended

It was over. For now at least.

Wayne, Quinn, and Ethan were dead. Kirby, Gale, and Chad were safe in the hospital, getting the treatment they needed. Mindy was staying with her brother, keeping Sam and Tara updated through text with any news from the doctors. And as for the Carpenter sisters…

They were back home—back at their apartment. Sam had just needed stitches for her wounds, while Tara needed stitches and a more-sturdy sling for her arm. The doctors had advised her to stay the night, because of her previous scar tissue from being stabbed in 2022, but she refused. She didn’t want to stay in a hospital ever again, if she could help it. 

The walk home had been pretty quiet, Danny doing most of the talking while Sam would respond to what was necessary. But after he parted to go to his apartment, it had been silent, with the exception of the sisters exchanging small-talk to make sure they were both okay.

But both of them were exhausted. 

As soon as they got through the door, Sam had gone to take a shower, as if cleansing the resemblance of her father’s actions from her bloodied body. She’d given everyone what they wanted after all—to be stained with the sin of murder, in a ghostface cloak, shadowing the reputation of Billy Loomis.

Tara wanted to hydrate herself a little before she got into the process of taking a shower. She had to be careful of the gunshot wound in her arm, which was still in a sling, and the rest of her cuts and stabs would leave her biting back screams of pain when the water hit them. Plus, the doctors had told her she was severely dehydrated from her blood loss in addition to crying and sweating. So, she sat alone at the table, sipping water and texting Mindy while waiting for her sister to be done. She could’ve used the bathroom she and Quinn shared, but using the shower after some random guy died with all of his guts and glory on the walls gave her the creeps. Plus… she had shared it with Quinn. That, alone, was enough for her to ditch the idea.

It was barely over 20 minutes before she could hear Sam’s bathroom door open. She quickly sent Mindy a text.

‘ gtg. Sam’s done in the shower ’

She left her cup where it was and excused herself from the table. She didn’t mean to, but she met Sam in the hallway right as she was leaving her room. 

Sam didn’t think twice about it though, going to put her clothes and towels in the laundry room. “You’re good to go take one, if you want,” she offered in regards to showering.

“Okay,” her younger sister replied. Beyond the wall she disappeared behind, she was questioned.

“Do you need any help changing or anything?”

For a moment, she felt a twinge of embarrassment at the possibility that getting her clothes off and on would be a chore. She hadn’t thought about that. But she didn’t really want to ask for help, even if it was her sister’s. She had just made somewhat of a statement that she was grown-up enough to handle herself.

‘ “You have to let me go.” ’

Would it prove everything wrong if she had to be dressed like a child? “No, it’s fine,” she mindlessly replied, her pride faster than her rationality. “I got it.” 

And she left to cleanse herself. 

As for the shower-portion, all went better than expected as far as maneuvering went. Granted, her good arm was aching from being the only one available to wash her hair, but she wouldn’t complain about it. She got her shirt and jeans off with a struggle, but successfully, so it turned out, she was correct to say she could handle it.

That is, until she had to put her clean shirt on…

It was awkward and inconvenient, the pain in her arm leaving her barely able to shrug her shoulder. She had gotten far enough to have her head and right arm in, but trying to pull the rest on was nearly impossible. She was already so tired, so it just pushed her limits. Her face heated up in embarrassment, even though she was the only one witnessing this crappy job at dressing herself. And as much as she didn’t want to…

‘ “You have to let me go.” ’

She yanked off the shirt with an irritated huff, threaded the comb through her hair, and left the bathroom with the top in her fist. In nothing but her shorts and bra, the crisp air conditioning of the late night cursed her carved up flesh, which was a bitch to deal with in its own ways. She brought herself down the hall, already looking for her sister. “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

She rounded the corner to find her in the kitchen. When she turned around, Tara held the piece of clothing up, sounding more tired than frustrated now. “Can you help me put the fucking shirt on?” She could resuscitate Wayne Bailey, just to kill him again for shooting her in the fucking arm. 

Having been drinking her own glass of water that she was instructed to drink, Sam gulped down her mouth-full and nodded as she wiped her mouth and came forward. “Can’t lift your shoulder?”

“Barely,” she snapped.

Samantha took the shirt from her but spent a moment in thought. She then dropped it to her side. “Why don’t you just wear a jacket? You can zip it up, and it’s not as difficult to put on.” Tara blinked at her like she wasn’t alert enough to process the practicality of that suggestion, which led her moving past to go into the younger’s room and get her a light jacket. But then she remembered…

‘ “You have to let me go.” ’

She was doing it again—taking control of what isn’t hers to control. She stopped before she reached the invisible line dividing the hall from the rest of the room and turned around. “Only if you want to.”

Her little sister nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.” As if they shared the same brain-wavelength, her own words guided her back to Sam’s actions.

Her older sister returned the nod. “Okay.” She glanced off as if the situation suddenly got awkward, “Are you finished in the bathroom, otherwise? I can take your clothes and put them in the washer, while you get your jacket, if you like.”

Tara held her injured arm close to her torso, her posture waning in her weary state. “Sure.” She started towards her room with a small gesture towards her sibling, “Thanks, Sam.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The rest of the late evening was rather quiet and calm, the complete opposite of the previous 3 nights. The two didn’t stay up too much longer, both barely able to stay awake long enough for their hair to dry. Sam excused herself first, then Tara followed shortly after. Mindy had reported that Chad, Kirby, and Gale all had a good last-round of vitals before they went to sleep, so the last two members of the Core Four were at peace knowing that.

Now, it was close to 1:00 AM, and Tara was still awake. As tired as she was, she couldn’t stop thinking. A thousand thoughts raced through her head about the past 3 days. The frat party, the fight, the convenience store, the interrogation, the planning, the rumors, the staircase, the screaming, the shrine, the sirens, the thrill, the plan, the subway, the kiss, the first stab, the chase, the heartbreak, the insults, the truth, the blood, the gunshot, the slip, the grip, the pain, the plea, the trust, the fall…

‘ “You have to let me go.” ’

And then she thought about Sam and the strange amount of composure in her tired eyes as she laid her controlling behavior to rest.

‘ “I knew you could take care of yourself.” ’

It wasn’t that Tara regretted the fight she put up for independence nor did she regret anything that went down between them—words said and promises made. But now, she felt like there was an awkward or uncomfortable distance between her and her sister. She knew it was hard for her to back off, but in the same token, having her not right there like she had been for the past 3 days felt like an absence of security. 

Sure, she’d shouted at her.

‘ “It’s not about you! I mean you’re– you’re out of my life for five years, and then you can’t leave me alone for five minutes.” ’

Resented her.

‘ “She’s all the way up my ass. Like usual.” ’

Cursed at her.

‘ “Before you make the unilateral decision to abandon my college education and flee the fucking state!” ’

Blamed her.

‘ “Just drop it, Sam.” ’

Yes, she had made all of it up in between and afterwards, but now that she had gotten what she wanted… She felt guilty about it. She had just gotten so used to being abandoned—first by her father, then Sam, then her mother—that it was insulting to have someone back who didn’t stick around like they had promised, in the first place.

But she knew now… She knew everything now.

Tara shook her inhaler and put it up to her lips to suck in its medication. The soft glow of her night light struck her the wrong way—it reminded her of the low lighting in the kill-box theater. The end of her bed got under her skin—the last time she was at peace there was when she was with Chad after the party. The shut door made her feel cold—like she was confined and kept away from her sister like when Anika died.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be alone anymore.

‘ “You have to let me go.” ’

Not tonight.

‘ “I wanna be in your life, but only as much as you want me to be.” ’

‘ “I want you to be.” ’

She wanted to be close to Sam tonight.

Tara slowly sat up, keeping her wounded arm as still as possible as she used her other one to push herself up. Even with the medicine she had taken, pain still battered her whole body when she moved. Using her abs had the stitched area creasing, which made her wince with a soft whimper as she slipped off the mattress. She grabbed her phone and her inhaler, before making way to the door. 

The hallway was dark, as usual, the small light in the living room only providing enough light to see through the kitchen. Luckily, Sam’s room was only a few steps from hers. She went to her bedroom door and opened it quietly, trying to peer through the dark to see if Sam was still awake. 

Her sister had a soft night light like hers on the left side of the room, leaving the majority of the right in heavy shadows from her bathroom door being shut. As Tara approached the end of the bed, she could confirm that Sam was fast asleep. She couldn’t tell how deep she was in, but she could tell her wounds were bothering her from the way her arms were specifically positioned. On her right side, the blankets were kept just below her chest with her left arm limply crossed over her right, holding distance from the rest of her body. It reminded the younger Carpenter of the way a dog slept, but at least she had found peace after the hurricane of 72 hours.

Tara went around on the opposite side of the bed. She set her phone and inhaler on the bedside table and climbed up onto the mattress as softly as she could. Her sibling didn’t move or seem to notice, even as she shuffled her way under the covers.

And instantly, she felt a sense of relief that she didn’t know needed to be fulfilled. She felt safe and like she was sure they could move on from all of this.

‘ “I promise you, I’m gonna get so much therapy after this. I’m serious.” ’

She blinked at Samantha’s back, taking in her scent that was heavy on the pillow that she rubbed her face against.

‘ “We’re gonna get through this… Together.” ’

A feeling she knew all too well spread through her chest but became physical in the line of tears that clouded her vision. She’d blame it on how tired she was or an adrenaline dump… but for right now, for tonight… She wanted Sam.

Tara shifted closer to her sister to reach her arm around her waist and press her head against her upper back. She had to bite back a whine of agony to move her shoulder like that, but the embrace was worth it.

In contradiction to what she originally thought, Sam’s figure jumped awake beneath her touch and instinctively tried to move away.

But she tightened her hold to keep her in place. “It’s okay, Sam. It’s just me,” she soothed.

The other stopped, pausing for a moment as if she was still trying to wake up. Around the younger’s arm, she twisted enough to look over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Tara glanced up at the partial hoarseness of her voice, finding her sister’s eyes glazed over with a hardened brow of concern. She had been sleeping hard, making up for the 72-hours-straight-sleep-deprivation they had endured, and she had just disturbed that. But all she could do was hold her gaze long enough to be honest. “I– I didn’t want to be alone…” 

Samantha blinked at her as she watched her eyes lower, clearing the distortion of sleep from her head. She shifted her weight, turning over to face her baby sister. By the way she refused to meet her eyes again, she guessed that she felt self-conscious admitting that.

‘ “You have to let me go.” ’

But Sam didn’t see it the way Tara thought she did. She never had. 

“I’m sorry…” Tara whispered, moving her arm away now that they were facing each other.

“For what?”

“For waking you up.”

Her big sister shook her head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She then tucked the feathered strand of the younger’s bangs behind her ear, before asking, “Were you scared in your room?”

Tara hesitated, unsure what the reason really was. “I don’t know… I just couldn’t sleep, because it didn’t feel right… being by myself.” Sam nodded, not questioning further, and she felt her touch leave. It made something in her chest twinge, as if she wanted to cry. 

‘ “You have to let me go.” ’

“Sam?”

Her sibling kept her eyes. “Hmm?”

“Remember when I thanked you for letting me go?”

“Yeah.”

Tara could feel the emotions of sisterhood build up her chest and push to her throat. “Well…” She swallowed it back, but the tears that came into her eyes were inevitable. And she knew Sam noticed, because her expression changed and her irises jumped in a fleeting observation. “The truth is I don’t know what I would do without you,” she whispered, unable to strengthen her voice without having it break. “I wanted you to let me go so bad,” she went on. The words got caught as the memory of feeling helpless, desperate, and distraught behind their apartment door hit her—when she truly thought, for a moment, that she had left Sam to be killed off in the place they had finally started to make a home. “But I don’t want you to go away again… I don’t want you to leave me…”

It killed Sam to watch her start to break down. She never could stand it when she cried, but she kept quiet, nodding as she listened to what she had to say.

“I–” Tara tried to blink away the tears, but they fell anyway. “I just wanted you to give me some space and trust me… But I never meant to push you away…”

It was then that her older sister took some action. She wiped her cheek free of the tears and placed her hand on her shoulder, careful to keep her touch soft as she rubbed it. “I know,” she told her, “I know what you meant, Tara.” Watching her suck in a quick breath, she gave her a small smile. “I couldn’t leave you, even if I tried. Seriously, you’d have to get a restraining order for a galaxy’s distance, if you wanted me gone.”

This actually made Tara giggle as she sniffled and wiped her remaining tears.

Sam then pet the side of her head, brushing away the disheveled traces from her formerly air-dried hair. “I know there are things that you can take care of on your own now—things that I wouldn’t let you do because I was too scared to let you. Not only because I almost lost you last year, but because I can’t forget the Tara I knew before I left 6 years ago.” Tara blinked at her, and even then, she could see those youthful, innocent eyes that she grew up with. The ones that used to be clear of trauma, hurt, and neglect. “But you’re still you. And I’m me. But now, it’s time for me to let you run, like you did, even though you didn’t have that choice.” She confirmed that decision. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a hypocrite.”

Tara stared at her, a smile growing on her face as she added, “Most importantly, you’re my sister.”

And that was something no amount of fighting, running, or trauma could destroy.

Sam nodded. “And I always will be.”

The two exchanged a smile before they went to settle for the night. Tara shuffled closer to Sam, enough to be secured in her embrace as she ducked her head beneath her jaw. Sam let her arm guard her baby sister around the back, letting her chin rest on top of her head. She released a settling sigh as Tara gently nuzzled herself into a comfortable position, closing her eyes to resume the peace of night.

The younger Carpenter relished the warmth that secured her. She felt much better, now that they both understood what the truth actually was. She knew that it was okay to be independent but still need help sometimes. She knew it was okay to cry but still be strong. She knew it was okay to run as far as she pleased but still come back home. 

She breathed in her big sister’s scent, the one she’d known forever. 

‘ “You have to let me go.” ’

“Don’t let go,” she whispered.

Sam felt her shirt be held in Tara’s grasp, but she didn’t move. She strengthened her embrace. “Okay.”

probably won't be able to update daily but gonna try

all of these are likely going to be either from Sam or Tara's point of view (few exceptions)

I really do my best to do characters justice and keep them as in-character as possible, but headcanons are a thing and I'm a sucker for them haha

All my best! ♡ - parker

[its-short-for-jackalope]

after updating i still have that utterly bizarre phenomenon on mobile where occasionally, upon scrolling past a (seemingly) random video on my dash, my phone screen will just inexplicably grow brighter while going past the video. even if I'm scrolling real fast there will be a clear & noticeable blip of increased brightness as long as the video takes up a significant portion of the screen.

if I check my settings both while on the screen-brightening video and while off it, the setting is exactly the same even though I can see my whole screen is literally brighter.

upon remembering that this only happens when one specific blog I follow *cough* @pangur-and-grim *cough* reblogs videos from @crittercrew, I visited crittercrew's blog and scrolled past a couple videos and each time my phone went brighter. no clue why! crittercrew I think your pets might be magical or something. or this website/app is busted.

in conclusion / tl;dr:

YOU.

[honestsister]

I FUCKING KNEW KAEYA WAS A CHAOTIC LIL SHIT, RAG BROS SIBLING DYNAMIC DEMANDS MISCHIEF AND MAYHAM

Diluc: no schemes no plots no ruses :[

Kaeya, later: he never said no shenanigans ;)

[josecariohca]

.

[tenrose]

Not me having a breakdown past midnight because I have to go back to work Monday and I don't want to.

[pipzeroes]

[Phyllis] Webstad is the creator of Orange Shirt Day, a grassroots movement that turned global a few years ago to commemorate the residential school experience and honour survivors. Since September 2019, she had been touring schools across the country to share her own experience attending residential school and the importance of Orange Shirt Day…

From 1831 to 1996, over 130 federally funded, church-run residential schools were attended by more than 150,000 Indigenous children. The goal, as Canada’s first prime minister, John A. Macdonald, so succinctly put it, was to “take the Indian out of the child,” or forced assimilation. It was a cultural genocide that has reverberated through generations of Indigenous Peoples through intergenerational trauma. Stories stolen, stories lost, stories too horrific to tell.

[hoshiyoshis]

heartbreak so bad i will fix my sleep schedule over it-

[arggghhhsstuff]

warlock is a trans girl. to me. her name is lockie or ash (short for ashtoreth). her favorite band is queen and she does theatre. she has very strong opinions on religion and loves math.

[lovesickmermaid]

DAY 25: What’s the Performance That You Think Should Have Been Nominated For An Oscar and Why

A Few Good Men

Honestly, I don't think I should really have to explain myself for this one. The movie and his performance speaks for itself. Tom brought so much passion to the role of Daniel Kaffee, but also made him a lovable character.

He portrayed him as such a fun-loving, normal guy, but at the same time, he was able to flip a switch and become this harsh justice-seeking lawyer who doesn't take shit from anyone. It's hard to pull that off without having the character seem like a giant asshole the entire film.

Not to mention, one of my favorite off the wall lines comes from this film.

Daniel Kaffee may have flipped his lid a time or two, I mean, it's not really a Tom Cruise movie without a dramatic blow-up of emotion, but he knows when he's wrong and reels himself back into reality quickly. Tom is great at portraying a multitude of emotions in the span of 60 seconds, and that's what happens a lot in this movie. So yes, it should have been at least nominated for an Oscar.

@lephantomdelioncourt @pixlerelish I added this little bonus down here for you guys. The baseball uniform PLEASE