#Images that make no sense if you haven't watched a specific stream

[drazillion]

Finally got around to doing the #broomposechallenge!

[hevanderson]

wip wednesday! tagged by @kurtsascot + @cryscendo !! this is another excerpt from the lis au's second chapter, and i actually wrote all of this while on a plane!! :-] quinn lore and blaine's shower routine– also featuring the introductions of jesse st james and matt rutherford (who was actually introduced in the first chapter but not officially named)

cw for talk of sex (non explicit but frequently brought up), specifically sex that dubiously falls under dubious consent but, again, is Not too explicit and is only like . kind of vaguely implied

not tagging anyone but take this as a tag if you haven't been tagged already! :-3

“Quinn Fabray was also, like, watching us,” Matt added after a second. Blaine's hands froze in their position, midway through working the conditioner into his hair. A pang of anxiety hit him. Bringing up Quinn in any conversation was potentially dangerous; not many people had kind things to say about her as of late. “Her eyes were all big. It was like she loved watching Puck get torn a new one.”

“She probably did,” Jesse said quickly. “Any time he's on campus, she's been glaring at him. It's like he killed her family or something. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.”

Blaine's hands began moving again, slowly. The water was starting to get cold. He needed to hurry. His hands moved faster.

“Do you know why?” Matt asked.

Jesse shook his head and shrugged. “I have no idea. I mean, in that video, he's all over her, but she's all over him, too. She clearly wanted him. That's like me and Rachel having sex and then us publicly despising each other after– it just doesn't make sense.”

A beat passed. Matt sighed. Blaine ducked his head under the almost frigid stream of water, hands moving almost rapidly. He hated how cold the water got so fast. Morning showers were usually good, since the hot water wasn't all used up, but that clearly wasn't the case today. Just his luck.

Matt shrugged yet again. “I don't know, man. Isn't it weird?”

“She just wants to protect her image,” Jesse responded matter-of-factly. “Her sex tape and her pregnancy goes against her pure, Christian girl mask she puts on. She must think that pretending she hates all of this situation will make people think highly of her.”

[leefi]

@staff if you want to maintain and grow your user base you have to lean into what makes tumblr unique, not introduce half-baked ideas from other websites.

Marketplace replacing the blog on the main app UI makes no sense:

1) This is a blogging website and you're moving its most personal, primary function in a less trafficked area just to draw attention to a feature that isn't even complete yet. Put profiles/blogs back where they should be and have Marketplace populate the upper right corner - it takes 3 (3!!!) taps to access drafts. This is just bad UI. You can drive more traffic to Marketplace without annoying your users by adding unintrusive visual reminders while scrolling and incorporating a smaller place to access it from high-trafficked areas.

2) The ideas you have for it are very cute but as I mentioned it's barebones right now. I don't even see Blaze listed as a purchaseable in the app version. If you want to keep emulating tiktok introduce more gifts you can give to other users. I think it's a very neat idea.

Lives are a terrible idea:

You have no architecture for livestreaming. You have never been a video-sharing platform. People do not think of tumblr when they want to watch a stream. They will not start thinking of tumblr when they want to watch a stream. Your only external marketing is your social media posts on other websites.

I’m going to assume you’re building this feature from the ground up. Live-streaming has been going through a major shift in the last few years and I’m sorry but tumblr is not the place it is going to take off. Twitch is the OG live-streaming platform and it is suffering. YouTube is still trying to gain a foothold after entering the market 3 years ago. To users it looks like you’re throwing a bunch of popular ideas at the wall right now and seeing what sticks - but this is an incredibly clunky, annoying, high effort-low reward one.

Rather than build your own Live features, improve integration with existing big hitters. Your Twitch integration is already pretty good - all I'd advise would be to find a way to access the chat as well. Add in TikTok integration as well as YouTube integration (you may already have this, I haven't tried it). It doesn't have to stop at lives - for example, Instagram users are able to post TikToks to their stories directly from the app. You could do the same with uploading from tiktok directly to tumblr.

Making the site more attractive (and growing your userbase in a more efficient way):

In-app image editing options (cropping, rotating. You could even make this fun by adding a few tumblr-specific filters that reference site culture)

Improved video uploading & player - offer increased video size for subscribing users.

Improve tag/search function, ESPECIALLY within blogs. People are sick of not being able to search tags on their blogs on mobile, or searching for a post they know they made and having nothing come up. Incorporate more filters beyond post-type (i.e. option to see posts made by a specific user). Expand popularity timeframes (i.e. All Time, Recent, Past Month, Past Year). Look at Reddit's content sorting for inspiration.

Completely lift the NSFW ban. Introduce more robust content moderation filters, and funnel money that's currently going into useless features like Live into content moderation.

Look to Discord Nitro for subscription feature ideas such as animated avatars

Improve the Tipping function - take inspiration from Patreon and Ko-Fi. Maybe introduce a way to subscribe to blogs (can look at Twitch for inspiration for this - custom emotes, etc.)

Re-introduce search function to the main hotbar

Re-introduce editing a post on mobile even if you hadn't added anything after it's been published. Why did you disable this? People want to change tags or add a thought later.

Integrate with Discord - people can visit blogs right off the platform (see photos below)

I love this website and understand it needs to turn a profit, but you can do this without alienating your users!

[liyuesbian]

✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.