#whats app business

[virtualkart]

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[keshavkumar]

The Power of WhatsApp Business AI: Your Growth Catalyst

Discover how WhatsApp Business AI can transform your business. Learn about targeted ads, personalized messaging, automation, and valuable insights for growth. Harnessing the Potential of WhatsApp Business AI In today’s digital age, businesses are constantly seeking innovative ways to engage with their customers and drive growth. WhatsApp Business AI offers a powerful solution that can…

[itsaceokay]

I feel like people don't often fully appreciate how hard dating can be for demisexuals.

It just hit me the other day when I found out that most people are kissing by the first date and having sex by the third and to me that is just wild. And apparently, some people wait up to three months before having sex and that's seen as like a really long time and I'm sorry but is everyone okay???

After three dates a person is still a stranger and after three months they're at most an acquaintance - and people are not willing to wait longer and you'll be seen as unreasonable if you want to wait for a year or more??

[mispatchedgreens]

communal spaces! are the heart of any throuple! (2 versions bc im just an indecisive baby)

it's @zukki-week and day 1 was domestic

[chocojincake]

Holy sheet, I forgor I had tmblr erm,,, hello??? Anyways,,

Art dump Pt. 1

[adelaideandart]

Lmao it popped up so randomly. 10/10 recommendation, I do need him

[pnutsdotorg]

is this anything.

[fvedyetor]

sigozen !!

[a-s-levynn]

"It's too late for me now, I am altered / There is something beneath" A Series of Small Offerings - III/7 - day27

[karamazovanon]

mods are asleep post nastaglaya wip

[virtualkart]

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[seiwas]

been really busy lately! sorry if i haven’t been that active 🥲 i hope everyone has a good week though!! wishing only lovely things for all of you 🥺 will probs be more active in the weekend 🫶

[kemsyne]

Wayfarer Week '24 - Origins

Just a little something for the 3rd anniversary of Wayfarer IF by @idrellegames

The origin of Damsa's nickname, which carried over from her HotB days, so don't take me seriously on any Vestran language used here.

Damsa inhales, draws the bow and lets the arrow fly in one smooth motion. It zips through the air and embeds itself in the target, at least three palms width away from the center. The girl sighs in frustration.

“Well,” Aeran hops down from the barrel nearby and comes to stand closer. “At least you’ve hit the target” he proclaims and immediately ducks as Damsa swats the bow at him.

“I’ve been hitting it for the past ten minutes, you ass,” she smiles despite her words and reaches for another arrow. “I’m just… off.”

“Can you really say that when you’re off consistently? If I were you-” the elf shuts his mouth at the sudden warning look from his friend.

Aeran raises his hands up. “All I’m saying, as the master archer between us two-” he relaxes at the eyeroll Damsa sends his way “Is that you’re not bad at this,” he offers gently.

The bowstring twangs and another arrow lodges itself a sizeable distance from the target’s center. Aeran raises one hand to shield his eyes from the evening sun.

Arriving at the Spire together and being the youngest apprentices by far was a natural foundation to their friendship. Some two years of long lectures, rigorous training by their respective Masters, and getting into, or narrowly avoiding, trouble only built that friendship into a stronger bond.

Aeran glances down at Damsa’s feet.

“How’s your knee?” he asks, nodding towards her heavily bandaged leg. “Still can’t put any weight on it?”

“Not much,” Damsa grimaces. “Sirin says I should count myself lucky to have a knee still. And that it will leave a scar, but should be fine otherwise,” she reaches to scratch under the linens. “Itching is the worst. Why?”

“Because you fell through the floor and landed on a pile of rubble?” Aeran offers incredulously.

“Oh, I remember that,” Damsa straightens up again. “Will remember for a long time after the earful I got,” she huffs. “I’m asking why do you want to know? No one’s blaming you for it, are they?”

The elf shakes his head. “No, no… It’s just that you lean. When you draw the bow?” He mimics the motion at her questioning look. “You lean sideways to keep balance,” he points out and reaches for the practice weapon in Damsa’s hand. “Should be more like this.”

The two switch places and Damsa watches as Aeran draws the bow with ease. The arrow hits the target close to the center mark. Aeran’s lips curl into a smirk.

“See? Easy once you do it right,” he takes another arrow and spins it in his hand before notching. “Why do you want to learn this? I thought you liked the sword better.”

“I do,” Damsa agrees “But I can’t train much with it now, and Sero says I need to work on my upper body strength,” she pauses. “Besides, a great hunter doesn’t limit herself with just one weapon.”

Aeran raises one eyebrow. “I thought we were going to be Wayfarers, not hunters?”

“All wolves are great hunters,” Damsa states as a matter of fact.

Confusion washes over her friend’s expression. “What do wolves have to do with this?” he asks and looks at her as if she had just sprouted a second head.

“My name,” she offers and waits for the blank expression on Aeran’s face to change into an understanding one. “My last name?”

Silence stretches between them.

“Drende?” Damsa’s accent thickens momentarily. “Drende means wolf in old Vestran? Wolves are great hunters?” she gestures and yet, Aeran doesn’t seem sold on her path of thought.

“I think wolves are great hunters because they hunt in packs,” he finally says slowly, skeptically.

“True, but also on their own-”

“They’re big and have big teeth.”

“It’s not about the teeth, Aeran-”

“Have you ever seen a wolf? They are horse-sized!”

“Are you saying I can’t become a great hunter unless I’m a horse?”

The two are face to face now, Aeran’s arms crossed over his chest, and Damsa’s on her hips. The ridiculous nature of their argument lost on both as Aeran narrows his eyes in thought.

“I suppose,” he drawls. “Size doesn’t matter for you, because wolves don’t use weapons like we do.”

“Size doesn’t matter for wolves either, because they are the weapons,” Damsa presses. “And because they are great hunters.”

“...Right.”

“Everyone in my family is a great hunter, and none of them are horse-sized,” Damsa bristles.

“Riiiiight.”

“Aeran.”

“Right, right. You will be a great hunter,” he takes a step back. “Because your family is named after wolves. But they are all people-sized. Little wolves.”

Damsa lunges forwards and Aeran dances away, laughing. She throws a stray pebble in his direction, and then another, shouts a Vestran insult at him with a grin spreading across her lips, and watches, with some amusement, as Aeran trips over his own feet and lands in the pile of straw dummies used for training.

Aeran groans and sits up, pieces of straw sticking from his hair and undoubtedly clinging to the back of his clothes. Damsa limps to him and offers her hand.

“You alright?” she asks, bracing to pull the boy up.

“Yeah, thanks,” Aeran accepts her help. “Little Wolf.”

She lets him fall back in.

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[bunnihearted]

i like actually dont want this blog anymore i've always loved my precious safe space but recently i've started to resent it...... but maybe instead of deleting it i should just log out and dont log in again for a while at least...