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h
d e v o n
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

â
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@shootingsharp
Illustration commission for @mihaeroff. Thank you for commissioning me!

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PARALIOS:
                      three words of advice: donât trust strangers â                          thatâs technically four words.                       âclio. please.
  as the exchange with her mother ran through her mind, she couldnât help but think of her childhood. when sheâd boot up the gameboy and that trippy fade-in image of the legendary-of-the-year popped up in colour, where her little avatar would be standing in a hospital. impulsively, little clio would click the special button and a voice would remind her that no, biking was not allowed in-doors.
good advice; applied here through the need to remind herself this is probably why she remembers life-saving information the way she does. to be fair, a combination of mom and pokĂ©mon professorâs were the root of most of her attitude to strangers.              i will most likely probably end up murdered.
scrunching her nose, clioâs knuckles whitened as the paradoxically expensive and yet out-of-date smartphone was gripped as if she were hanging from a ledge; the floor, a thousand feet below.
frozen on the spot, sheâd hoped that her motherâs wisdom would float on by through her mind and drop a big hint on what to do. or what not to do. then again, photographing a strangerâs dogs was probably in the latter category to begin with. the woman even had a backpack.
             she could have murder shit in there. like tape and something knife-like                   âŠa knife.
she looked at her hand, where the dog biscuit sat for what must have felt like an eternity.
              what if itâs a trap and she puts me in a headlock and stuffs me in her bag.
     wait âŠwhat.
   clioâs lips parted into a grin; inverting her concerned brow into a mixture of horror and amusement. bursting into laughter, she cackled, stumbling back and almost stepping on her own foot. lurching over, eyes glazed with tears as she struggled to compose herself. mind having thoroughly outdone itself in a combination of intrusive thought, having a ptsd-affected mother whose paranoia seeped into her daughter from a young age, and good olâ fashioned anxiety.
  â iâm sorry! â she wheezed, back still somewhat hunched and arms flailing in front of her, â i donât mean âi just ⊠sorry. i donât ââmy head,â stopping herself, she breathed in and out with hefty sighs that staggered from her lips, â i just. â          need advice asap.
There was a cog missing in the conversation somewhere, and Jill wanted to step back for fear of tripping over it. It was taking the girl an awfully long time to accept the dig biscuit, and Jillâs eyes even flicked to the palm of her hesitating, outstretched hand to check she hadnât pulled out something else entirely more offensive.Â
Jill did take a step back the moment the girl crumpled, out of surprise if nothing else. Given her circumstances, it took an awful lot to perturb Jill Valentine, but this was just a trip to the shops. The bottom of her bag was soaking up the remains of a single cracked egg because she hadnât packed it properly, and that was going to be a bitch to clean up when she got home. Thatâs what was on her mind.Â
There was a bitter streak in her that made it very hard not to fling her hands up, state that the entire situation that was unfolding (or rather, curling up into a ball of anxiety and panic) in front of her was not her problem, and go home. Fortunately for her, she didnât need to perform the customary playback of eight hours into the future in her mind to decide whether or not sheâd feel guilty enough about it to put the wine sheâd be enjoying later down. Bongo gave a gentle whine, his tail waving cautiously as he approached the girl.Â
And a good thing too, that wine glass was already making its way to the sink in Jillâs mind.Â
Gentle as ever, Bongo nosed at the girlâs palm, huffing a breath into her flesh before giving a few small licks. Jill recognised the motions -- slow so as not to startle, gentle, patient. He had done this with her too, on bad days. Heâd beaten her to the punch on noticing that the girlâs actions were more than just plain fucking weird. One by one the signs of panic and anxiety cleared up, and Jill was thankful Bongo was here. Despite visceral experience with such matters, she found herself stuck to the stone, with no clue whatsoever how to help.Â
âUh -- are you okay?â Great start, Jill. The biscuit was shoved back into her pocket, and she took a step forward. Not enough to close the gap, though. She was still a pace away from Bongo, head tilted and doing her best to seem non-threatening and almost certainly failing with the permanent frown etched into her brow (this one at least was worry, and not her almost constant state of partially pissed-off). Bongo seemed to be doing most of the work anyway, now happily nuzzling into the girlâs palm, tail doing its best to lift him off the ground like a helicopter.Â
âI got some water at the store --â That one, the one I should have stayed in until youâd left with your photo. âIf you need it.âÂ
IF đ A đ LARGE đ DOG đ THINKS đ ITâS đ A đ LAP đ DOG đ ITâS đ A đ LAP đ DOG đ
ANGELA:
   food was definitely taking the majority of Angelaâs focus. a yawning feeling had grown into something monstrous and demanding once she was offered it â which spoke highly of both her focus as well as her hunger. while she managed to reign herself in to keep from looking ravenous, she couldnât help the embarrassment flitting across her face at Jillâs question.
      â um? â
   not a reassuring start to her defense. she ticked the hours back in her head after a glance at her watch â when had it gotten so late? â and her brow furrowed between trying to remember when she had gotten to her lab, and when she last remembered eating at all. coffee was involved at some point â breakfast? not that time kept her away from it at all, but a good guess as any. she debated holding her tongue, perhaps blaming her silence on manners and not talking while she eats. but with Jillâs stare pinning her in her place, not answering would be more incriminating at this point, so she gave her best possible effort:
     â earlier today â i just got busy and missed ⊠dinner. â
   at least dinner. it wasnât entirely a lie, so she felt less guilty than she could have about it. that said, she still twirled her fork nervously through her food, and she felt so silly for getting so worked up about any of this. she took a bite and chewed with just a bit more care than she would usually â if only for an excuse to not speak for a moment.
It was sort of funny, how Angela squirmed under a question that should have been simple, and endearing too. Years of training in armed forces and hours of standing in waterlogged mud, rain crashing down about her ears while straining to hear what her commander was screaming in her face -- all served her well here, in a pokerface that didnât give anything away. Laughing at Angela was the last thing she wanted to do. Especially when she looked so uncomfortable already, as though Jill was leafing through her diary right in front of her.Â
âUh huh.âÂ
Still, she was incredulous, and stabbed a potato with her fork, finally looking away to concentrate on shoveling her own food into her mouth. Jill wasnât nearly as gracious -- another habit picked up as a soldier.Â
For a moment there was silence broken only by the scrape of plastic against aluminium, and for a moment Jill thought sheâd made it a little awkward. It was a prying question, she supposed, and sheâd unintentionally put a spotlight on someone it was growing rapidly more clear by the second did not like the attention. Jill lowered her fork.Â
â...Sorry. None of my business what your eating habits are, really. Dâyou like it? I made it at six this morning and wasnât sure how well the salad would last.âÂ
"You donât need to leave so soon.â
@latrodectae
Jill is sitting on the edge of the bed and in her mind her spine carves mountains in the dim light of the moon that spills from the open doors to the balcony. Hunched over with her elbows on her knees, she picks at a scab on her wrist. Itâs in the shape of an arc, a war wound from a battle closer to her heart than sheâd like to admit.Â
AmĂ©lieâs voice sings in the air and it is music Jill could write a symphony to. Or at least â so she thinks. Sheâs tried before and come up fruitless, the failing entirely in the artist and so far from the muse. A piano key rings in her mind, repeating like raindrops. D flat. Over and over again, until the tune begins to sound more eerie than ethereal.Â
Jill looks over her shoulder.Â
Widowmaker is bent over the bedside cabinet, sniffing white powder and coughing up a storm. It had been a good night until now, and Jill feels more naked than her lack of dress could show.Â
âEarly morning,â she grunts, before reminding herself she doesnât owe Widowmaker any explanation. She pulls her pants on, and her belt nicks the cuts on her wrist. Another day where she canât take her gloves off, nor remove the blue scarf from her neck. Like a sinner at a confessional she keeps her eyes to the floor.Â
Sheâs so intent to reach the door without looking back she forgets to button her shirt, and pauses just long enough for the manacles to creak under the weight. Thereâs been no protest, and such a simple sign makes Jillâs heart ache. She wants to stay.
Jill glances back, but she doesnât see anything.
âIâll see you later.âÂ

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SATYA:
âI have changed nothing from my typical routine.â
âI didnât say you donât look good on other days.âÂ
untranslatable beautiful french idioms
ma petite patate: a term of endearment used for children, it carries the significance that the child must be protected, but that they are capable of growing in a cruel world.Â
va niquer ta mĂšre: the heart of a mother, encompassing the heart of her children.
ce seum: the nostalgia you feel when you realize you have missed out on a common experience.Â
la flemme: the impossibility of moving oneâs limbs due to inexplicable sorrow.
bien fait pour ta gueule: the feeling of being slapped in the face by circumstances that are out of oneâs control.
avoir de la merde dans les yeux: to be blinded by love.
faire le buzz: to feel validated once oneâs peers recognize oneâs hard work, along with admitting that a great part of success comes from chance.
ĂȘtre un crevard: to decay in the pursuit of love, leaving a piece of oneâs heart behind one as one desperately looks for love.
ĂȘtre un fragile / [âŠ] de fragile: to be vulnerable in situations where vulnerability is frowned upon.Â
ĂȘtre chaud pour faire quelque chose: to have warmth spread around oneâs body in the anticipation of doing something with friends.Â
se faire iech de ouf: to feel the coldness of death as boredom slows down time and space.Â
nan mais allĂŽ: the overwhelming realization of the absurdity of our existence
Aller se faire enculer : to go on a spiritual journey of self-discovery in order for oneself to be more open to the possibility of unconditional love.
va voir ailleurs si jây suis : the process of searching for the meaning of oneâs life in the most unlikely places
je me suis fait biter : feeling helpless and powerless in a situation you feel cheated upon
Je mâen bats les couilles : having reached such a state of inner peace that the current situation cannot harm you emotionally.
Un branleur / une branleuse : A person allocating a fair amount of time to self-care.
Câest lâjeu ma povâ Lucette : A friendly reminder of the harshness of life, and that one should never let difficulties overwhelm them.
Câest pas faux : Used to subtly hint your confusion regarding the matters at hand.
@prcserpina @asteriea
lmao the fucking sHADE
this is my favourite post EVER
Fluffy/Blushy Sentence Starters
aka âI can feel my cheeks blushing from just thinking about what I want to say to youâ
âI like the way your hand fits in mine.â
âYou have something in your hair, umm⊠Do you want me to get it out?â
âItâs nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.â
âYou can call me whenever you want⊠Even if you donât have a reason to.â
âIâm bad at texting first, so I always end up hoping you will.â
âThis movie is really scary, but youâre into it so Iâm trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?â
âWait, donât pull away⊠Not yet.â
âYou look really cute in that sweater.â
âHalf the time I get too embarrassed to say anything.â
âNo, itâs fine. Â I can wait until youâre done talking to them.â
âNo, likeâŠ. Itâs just, I canât believe youâre actually wearing my clothes.â
âYouâre a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.â
âGod, you always make me blush so damn much.â
âIâve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know youâre going to look so good and I need to try and match up.â
âWould it be too cliche if we matched clothes a little?â
âFirst second I saw you and I couldnât get over how beautiful you were.â
âI wanted to say âI love youâ for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.â
âCould you hold my hand?â
âYou canât leave without letting me hug you first.â
âI really love holding you, darling.â
âThat pet name was so gushy, but it was also so cute.â
âAw, youâre blushing like a rose.â
âYour lips are really warm.â
âI canât get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now youâre having breakfast with me in my sweater.â
âNo, mom, donât tell him/her I said that about him/her!â
âMy friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.â
âWanna, likeâ I mean, if youâre not busy⊠We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you donât have a lot of time?â
âWow, I didnât think you could make me smile this big.â
âYou donât need to leave so soon.â
âYou look so comfy, and cuddle-able.â
âQuit smiling at me, I canât stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.â
âYouâre hiding under the blanket because youâre blushing?â
âYou make me so happy.â
âDonât give me that puppy dog face. Â How am I supposed to say no to that?â
âYou made these cupcakes for me?â
âI look forward to holding you close in bed soon.â
âLetâs share my coat, since youâre so cold.â
âI canât believe I got the first date, let alone a year.â
âYou make me feel so damn gushy.â
âHow do you always manage to look so captivating?â
âWould you mind if I kissed you?â
âAre you sugar personified or something?â
âI know Iâve kissed you like, ten times, but just like another ten, please.â
âYouâre the perfect height for me to rest my chin on your head.â
âI wouldâve had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm, and I didnât want to wake you.â
âIs it cold outside or are you just blushing?â
âYeah⊠Huh? Oh, sorry I was just thinking about my girl/boyfriend.â
âIâm so in love with her/him, I donât know what do do.â
âI remember practicing how to ask you out to the mirror.â
Writerâs choice
Send a name and a sentence xx
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a mini lesson in musical terminology
piano
FORTE
á”á¶Šá”âżá¶ŠËąËąá¶Šá”á”
FORTISSIMO
á¶ÊłesCENDO
DIMINuená”á”
SFá”ÊłzaNDO
a  d  a  g  i  o
a n d a n t e
allegro
rit a r  d  a  n  d   o
a   c   c  e  l  e  r a ndo
stac- ca- to-
leeggggaaatttoooo
i love my mom i jus t adore her so much i LOVE HER shes my whole life
ALOY:
     â Well, I wouldnât say Iâm looking for it â or stumbling⊠really just, curious. â She smiles slightly, GREEN hues trail upward from the Scrapper to the Oseram. Her cheeks flush pink slightly, almost as if embarrassed by the notion: when in reality it was all true & there shouldnât have been any guilt about the matter. The Nora treated such places as taboo, cursed, only reason she was allowed to even APPROACH the metal ruins was of her status.
   It never stopped the huntress beforehand however, sometimes on hunts she could almost hear a VOICE whisper from the ruins: a tempting lure that if a glance caught even the tiniest SHIMMER of the rusted structures, Aloy would lose herself to its call & begin to wander. It amazed her that she could even break from the trance with little distraction: & it seemed that it could spread to others.
   â Youâve never heard of a Cauldron â? Itâs a large metal door carved into mountain⊠& it goes DEEPER into the earth. â
What a misinterpretation, and it serves as an excellent distraction. Jill still hasnât touched the machine as Aloy asked, but she takes the opportunity to bring her hand back to her knee as she twists in Aloyâs direction.Â
âThose are called Cauldrons? I -- well, now a lot more things make sense.â Her grin as always is small, and very sheepish. Her eyes flicker back to the machine, resting cooly in the grass. It seemed like a boar then, absent breathing. Just otherworldly enough that Jill canât shake the unease.Â
âWhen I was young, a boy my age came back from a scavenging trip with his father all smiles and handing me a piece of metal for the instrument I was working on at the time. I did think it was strange he was so excited to have found a cooking implement.âÂ
ALOY:
   Would he be â-? After heâs death Aloy couldnât imagine what the man would have thought of her actions afterwards â- becoming a Seeker & traveling beyond her land she called home: HUNTING down a man that lead to a larger plot of domination shrouding a great evils intent of EXTINCTION: Hearing Rostâs story, the girl often wondered if she had become like him â Someone who found purpose in self-sacrifice rather than live a life. No; she was meant to survive, just as the old man wanted.
   â You donât have to rely on the tribe, but they rely on you. To stand alone is the strength to stand together. â Her final lesson with Rost opened her eyes to a bigger meaning: & it played through to the end. Would Elisabet think so as well? GAIA? GREEN shifts upward, remaining silent as ear catches Jillâs words: They had been through the same journey, the other seeing Aloyâs growth & maturity with every step. Perhaps wherever Rost was, he was proud â even if she remained in constant denial. & Jillâs common ground gave a physical push of the gesture.
  Shoulders twitch a bit as the redhead felt something hot roll down her face, then another on her opposite soon she was no longer in control â it was tears. Quickly, her head spins away, avoiding visual contact as a hand swipes hard at her wet face.
Years ago, after the distraction of battle was gone and there was nothing but smoke embers and loss, Jill had had a moment like this. She remembered it clearly, she had walked as though the act alone could give her a purpose until exhaustion stole it away. She had collapsed in the rain in a dilapidated sparkworker cave and hidden beneath a solid toolbench to cry. She pretended her own tears were rainwater and that she wasnât any weaker for them.Â
It worked out in the end, but it wasnât advice she would give to Aloy. The grief that she held within her heart had roots far deeper than anything Jill could relate to.Â
Instead, she wrapped both of her arms around Aloy and pulled her close.Â
âYou are an amazing girl, Aloy.â She said after a few moments of near-silence broken only by Aloyâs attempts to stay silent. âYou have done so much for a world that never welcomed you. I know it isnât much but I hope you know you always have family in me, alright?âÂ

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WE LIKE DOG PEOPLE:
â±â @shootingsharp.
  breathing slowed, lips pursed; clio tapped her phoneâs screen to zoom in, lightly. she knew at least three people who would love a picture of the calmly sitting, tail-swishing dalmatian that waited patiently outside of the store.
   be a good boy.            girl.               âŠgender-fluid four-legged individual.
 akin to metal sheets being struck together, a familiar sound beeped. in an instance, the dog was illuminated by an obnoxiously blinding light. oops. fuck.
turning around to face her, the dogâs head tilted  âtail wagging, ears perked. his ownerâs arrived; but all clio did was stand there, hoping the stranger wasnât fond of fighting for her dogâs honour in a parking lot at 7pm.
there had been a small moment of panic when jill reached the cashier and gave her customary squint through the glass double doors that opened into the brightly lit supermarket. it wasnât dark enough to be pitch black, but even in the dimness the white usually reflected white -- bongo was never hard to spot. distracted enough by her frantic search, the cans of dog food ended up on top of the eggs in her old and fraying rucksack.Â
she could regret that later -- just like she thought she might regret not listening every other dog owner who had berated her for never putting bongo on a leash. they underestimated his good behaviour. (maybe sheâd put too much stock in it this time.)
the offered pennies worth of change was abandoned in favour of the few seconds she would gain in getting outside to find bongo. jill stalked her way to the door, rucksack flung over one shoulder, fist anxiously tightening around the strap -- only to see exactly why her view of her dog had been obscured. Â
jill could see the picture over the girlâs shoulder but decided against creepily approaching from behind and making a comment that bordered on intimidating. instead, she brushed past the girl, casting a small half-smile her way before kneeling at bongoâs side and shoving a hand in her jacket pocket.Â
âwanna be his best friend?â she said, turning to look up at the girl and pulling her hand from her pocket -- a gravy bone biscuit concealed in her palm and offered. âgive him this. heâs very gentle.âÂ
types of mutuals on tumblr.com
1. the cool mutual how they ever decided to follow u and why they still do is a mystery to u. sometimes you post such incredible bullshit ur surprised they signed up for this. u get incredibly happy seein them on ur activity page. you cant believe it. bless this mutual
2. the drama mutual type A if theres ever discourse on ur dash or drama of any sort, this is the one u turn to. they have everything about everyone on their blog and if you ever wanna lurk this is who u go to. honestly, where would you be without them.
3. drama mutual type B if theres ever discourse on ur dash or drama of any sort, this might be the one behind it. they vague, they namedrop, they start drama and ur intimidated by them but u still stick around, probably because theyre also really cool. u just hope they wont vague u.
4. the pda mutual says â i love you guys âa lot and a ray of absolute sunshine on ur dash? their posts are just uplifting and make this hellsite a lot more bearable. theyve probably sent u a really sweet message once too, and u could probably message them about anything. an angel.
5. the silent one they almost never make text posts, they never post selfies and only answer the occasional ask. just a constant stream of aesthetic. maybe u think theyre neat but ur too scared to actually IM them. regardless u hope they have a good day.
6. the kpop mutual ah, yes. that one you followed for god knows what and now they post only kpop. u dont even know what their url was before this or who they are. you probably dont even know about anything about kpop aside from those big selfies they post from twitter everyday.
7. the funnyman mutual u see their posts from time to time on ur dash and feel happy knowing ur mutuals makin it. makes a lot of sans jokes too. and piss and vore too maybe. closely tied with the cool mutual at times
8. the old mutual uv followed them for so long u dont even know what they first posted, but theyre here now and u feel like friends seeing how long its been. u reply to each others posts and occasionally send asks. might be the kpop mutual at times
new ask meme which mutual am i
This is incomplete:
9. The Flirting Mutual Are u dating this Mutual? Who know? You live 3000 miles apart but you call each other the most annoying pet names and occasionally drop into their inbox to leave sweet nothings as a Joke (??? But is it really a Joke???)
10. Same Neurodivergemce Mutual Both ur heads r both fucked in about the same way, creating an everlasting bond and sharing of coping mechanisms
11. Big Name Fan Mutual They got noticed by the official Tumblr for your favorite show but you knew them when they had 7 followers and a goat. Until they started getting hate for their Opinions you didnât even realized they had 5K followers.
12. Discourse Mutual Integrates a healthy amount of political news and opinions into ur dash, u know how the rising popularity of quinoa is affecting the working poor in Uruguay because of them.
13. Mystery Mutual A specific kind of old mutual. They changed their icon and url, but you recognise their mode of typing and their tagging system. You canât place why you know them or when you followed them or even why you still follow them, but theyâre here and you feel compelled to leave them on your dash for old times sake.
14. Fan Wank mutual Hates the same parts of a show that u do. Sends you seven different links to the same post so that you can bitch about the tags on all of them. You would both fight someone to the death over your opinion of season 4.
Which one am I?