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staff · 10 months

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Tumblr’s Core Product Strategy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on reorganizing how we work in a bid to gain more users. A larger user base means a more sustainable company, and means we get to stick around and do this thing with you all a bit longer. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. The @labs group has published a bit already, but this is bigger. We’re publishing it publicly for the first time, in an effort to work more transparently with all of you in the Tumblr community. This strategy provides guidance amid limited resources, allowing our teams to focus on specific key areas to ensure Tumblr’s future.

The Diagnosis

In order for Tumblr to grow, we need to fix the core experience that makes Tumblr a useful place for users. The underlying problem is that Tumblr is not easy to use. Historically, we have expected users to curate their feeds and lean into curating their experience. But this expectation introduces friction to the user experience and only serves a small portion of our audience.

Tumblr’s competitive advantage lies in its unique content and vibrant communities. As the forerunner of internet culture, Tumblr encompasses a wide range of interests, such as entertainment, art, gaming, fandom, fashion, and music. People come to Tumblr to immerse themselves in this culture, making it essential for us to ensure a seamless connection between people and content.

To guarantee Tumblr’s continued success, we’ve got to prioritize fostering that seamless connection between people and content. This involves attracting and retaining new users and creators, nurturing their growth, and encouraging frequent engagement with the platform.

Our Guiding Principles

To enhance Tumblr’s usability, we must address these core guiding principles.

Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Retain and grow our creator base.

Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Improve the platform’s performance, stability, and quality.

Below is a deep dive into each of these principles.

Principle 1: Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Tumblr has a “top of the funnel” issue in converting non-users into engaged logged-in users. We also have not invested in industry standard SEO practices to ensure a robust top of the funnel. The referral traffic that we do get from external sources is dispersed across different pages with inconsistent user experiences, which results in a missed opportunity to convert these users into regular Tumblr users. For example, users from search engines often land on pages within the blog network and blog view—where there isn’t much of a reason to sign up.

We need to experiment with logged-out tumblr.com to ensure we are capturing the highest potential conversion rate for visitors into sign-ups and log-ins. We might want to explore showing the potential future user the full breadth of content that Tumblr has to offer on our logged-out pages. We want people to be able to easily understand the potential behind Tumblr without having to navigate multiple tabs and pages to figure it out. Our current logged-out explore page does very little to help users understand “what is Tumblr.” which is a missed opportunity to get people excited about joining the site.

Actions & Next Steps

Improving Tumblr’s search engine optimization (SEO) practices to be in line with industry standards.

Experiment with logged out tumblr.com to achieve the highest conversion rate for sign-ups and log-ins, explore ways for visitors to “get” Tumblr and entice them to sign up.

Principle 2: Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

We need to ensure the highest quality user experience by presenting fresh and relevant content tailored to the user’s diverse interests during each session. If the user has a bad content experience, the fault lies with the product.

The default position should always be that the user does not know how to navigate the application. Additionally, we need to ensure that when people search for content related to their interests, it is easily accessible without any confusing limitations or unexpected roadblocks in their journey.

Being a 15-year-old brand is tough because the brand carries the baggage of a person’s preconceived impressions of Tumblr. On average, a user only sees 25 posts per session, so the first 25 posts have to convey the value of Tumblr: it is a vibrant community with lots of untapped potential. We never want to leave the user believing that Tumblr is a place that is stale and not relevant.

Actions & Next Steps

Deliver great content each time the app is opened.

Make it easier for users to understand where the vibrant communities on Tumblr are.

Improve our algorithmic ranking capabilities across all feeds.

Principle 3: Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Part of Tumblr’s charm lies in its capacity to showcase the evolution of conversations and the clever remarks found within reblog chains and replies. Engaging in these discussions should be enjoyable and effortless.

Unfortunately, the current way that conversations work on Tumblr across replies and reblogs is confusing for new users. The limitations around engaging with individual reblogs, replies only applying to the original post, and the inability to easily follow threaded conversations make it difficult for users to join the conversation.

Actions & Next Steps

Address the confusion within replies and reblogs.

Improve the conversational posting features around replies and reblogs.

Allow engagements on individual replies and reblogs.

Make it easier for users to follow the various conversation paths within a reblog thread.

Remove clutter in the conversation by collapsing reblog threads.

Explore the feasibility of removing duplicate reblogs within a user’s Following feed.

Principle 4: Retain and grow our creator base.

Creators are essential to the Tumblr community. However, we haven’t always had a consistent and coordinated effort around retaining, nurturing, and growing our creator base.

Being a new creator on Tumblr can be intimidating, with a high likelihood of leaving or disappointment upon sharing creations without receiving engagement or feedback. We need to ensure that we have the expected creator tools and foster the rewarding feedback loops that keep creators around and enable them to thrive.

The lack of feedback stems from the outdated decision to only show content from followed blogs on the main dashboard feed (“Following”), perpetuating a cycle where popular blogs continue to gain more visibility at the expense of helping new creators. To address this, we need to prioritize supporting and nurturing the growth of new creators on the platform.

It is also imperative that creators, like everyone on Tumblr, feel safe and in control of their experience. Whether it be an ask from the community or engagement on a post, being successful on Tumblr should never feel like a punishing experience.

Actions & Next Steps

Get creators’ new content in front of people who are interested in it.

Improve the feedback loop for creators, incentivizing them to continue posting.

Build mechanisms to protect creators from being spammed by notifications when they go viral.

Expand ways to co-create content, such as by adding the capability to embed Tumblr links in posts.

Principle 5: Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Push notifications and emails are essential tools to increase user engagement, improve user retention, and facilitate content discovery. Our strategy of reaching out to you, the user, should be well-coordinated across product, commercial, and marketing teams.

Our messaging strategy needs to be personalized and adapt to a user’s shifting interests. Our messages should keep users in the know on the latest activity in their community, as well as keeping Tumblr top of mind as the place to go for witty takes and remixes of the latest shows and real-life events.

Most importantly, our messages should be thoughtful and should never come across as spammy.

Actions & Next Steps

Conduct an audit of our messaging strategy.

Address the issue of notifications getting too noisy; throttle, collapse or mute notifications where necessary.

Identify opportunities for personalization within our email messages.

Test what the right daily push notification limit is.

Send emails when a user has push notifications switched off.

Principle 6: Performance, stability and quality.

The stability and performance of our mobile apps have declined. There is a large backlog of production issues, with more bugs created than resolved over the last 300 days. If this continues, roughly one new unresolved production issue will be created every two days. Apps and backend systems that work well and don't crash are the foundation of a great Tumblr experience. Improving performance, stability, and quality will help us achieve sustainable operations for Tumblr.

Improve performance and stability: deliver crash-free, responsive, and fast-loading apps on Android, iOS, and web.

Improve quality: deliver the highest quality Tumblr experience to our users.

Move faster: provide APIs and services to unblock core product initiatives and launch new features coming out of Labs.

Conclusion

Our mission has always been to empower the world’s creators. We are wholly committed to ensuring Tumblr evolves in a way that supports our current users while improving areas that attract new creators, artists, and users. You deserve a digital home that works for you. You deserve the best tools and features to connect with your communities on a platform that prioritizes the easy discoverability of high-quality content. This is an invigorating time for Tumblr, and we couldn’t be more excited about our current strategy.

#tumblr #engineering #core product strategy

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fairuzfan · 1 month

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I mentioned this before but the one thing I cannot stand is selfishness which is where a lot of zionist talking points come from even when they *are* advocating for "peace" and "coexistence" because it centers ISRAELI safety and only thinks of Palestinian safety as secondary and indecental to Israeli (ie: the only way Israelis get safety is if their Palestinian """"neighbors"""" get safety which is such a selfish way to view the imprisonment and oppression of Palestinians) but then again they publish literal thinkpieces about the guilt Israeli soldiers feel when they eat food left behind by starving Palestinians — who, again, are starving BECAUSE OF ISRAELIS WHO ARE THE OPPRESSORS — so there's no way mainstream Israeli society will ever make changes to their language they they carefully curate to not include Palestinians (Haaretz is a beautiful example of this — take a look at their editorial staff list) because they all feed into their own sense of self pity and self righteousness rather than actually uplifting the voices of the oppressed. But then PALESTINIANS are the ones in this scenario who are accused of bias because they advocate and fight for their stories to be heard. Israelis do not have to find alternative means to put out their stories — has it occurred to you why Palestinians have had to use SOCIAL MEDIA to share their stories rather than traditional networks? It's because no one gives us the time of day. So we developed our platform through social media, even on here where @el-shab-hussein has been documenting FOR YEARS the human rights abuses perpetuated by Israelis on Palestinians because we know that's how anyone learns the truth about Palestine. So when people are trying to take down tiktok specifically, it's sinophobia and also fueled in recent months by antiPalestinian sentiments.

Sudan is like this too — the news we get about Sudan are from people who are on the ground because they've largely been abandoned by human rights orgs and by news stations. We learn the most about Sudan from people like @/bsonblast and Ze on Twitter.

Then people like come on here and make fun of people who get their news from social media (which is code for "Palestinians," they always mean it as code for Palestinians) as if "professional" media takes anyone from the Global South seriously or gives them space to talk about their stories and when they DO, people say things like "hamas run media" or whatever lol like these people have never had to doubt what they see on public media before and it shows! No one takes you seriously when you say the words "islamofascist state" about Gaza when CNN publicly admits to having their content reviewed by the IOF! Hypocritical at best!

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mortalityplays · 1 month

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You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

#announcement #please reblog let's make this HAPPEN

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labs · 5 months

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Hello again, Labs here with a recap of our test of Collections! We introduced this prototype back in September and then handed the feature to a handful of volunteers sourced from the notes on that post. Thank you again to all volunteers!

We got so much useful feedback, and wanted to share some of that here, and reveal some next steps we’re taking. There are a couple of big projects cooking in Labs, and Collections has taken a backseat lately, but it is important to us to not leave y’all hanging. We very much want to build things with you here.

Our goal with the volunteer-based super-early phase of Collections was to see if those volunteers actually use the feature, watch what they come up with, and check whether anybody they invite to Tumblr signs up and becomes a regular user of the site. Turns out, nobody did sign up — it’s not as useful of an onboarding strategy as we thought it could be.

However, one piece of feedback we got is that Collections make great custom feeds, which people on Tumblr have been asking for a lot over the years. We hear you loud and clear: you want to supplement the standard Following / For You experience with more intentional control over feed content. That’s really important to us.

With that in mind, for those in the prototype, we’ve moved the Collections list to the left sidebar / mobile navigation as an expandable area like Account, for quick access. We like this better than putting them in the dashboard tab bar, but it’s still something we’re mulling over:

We also heard the need for more filtering options beyond just blogs and tags. What about only including a blog’s posts that use a certain tag, or excluding posts using a certain tag? Or list tags with a boolean AND operator (“posts tagged [tag] and [other tag]”), not just the OR operator we’re using now for sourcing tagged posts. Lots of ideas on how to further customize what shows up in the feed, and better define what the feed is “for”.

There were other fun, tangential bits of feedback, too, like the desire to make these Collections a collaborative feature, so that more than one person can help build a Collection. There were also several usability issues that came to the forefront, which we’ve addressed. And there were some well-articulated thoughts and questions about etiquette, such as how to seek a blog’s “permission” to be included in a Collection – that’s something we care a lot about, to help prevent this kind of feature from being a source of abuse.

Another piece of feedback we heard repeatedly is the desire for Collections of posts. This is not really what we intended with what we built, but it’s not too far afield either. We totally agree that having better, easier ways of collecting and curating individual posts would be useful, so we’re going to investigate that as a separate project.

With all of this in mind, we’ve split the work on Collections into two separate tracks:

Shaping this feature as a “customizable feeds” solution, away from an “invite others” tool.

Building a new thing for saving and curating static posts.

Stay tuned here on the Labs blog for updates on when/if we’ll be moving these Collections tracks of work to more people on Tumblr. (If you are one of the volunteers who helped us with Collections, you’ll still have access to it for the time being!)

Thanks for reading! And please reach out to us via Support, the replies here, or your reblogs, if you have any more feedback, as always.

#tumblr labs #collections

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bravecitizen · 2 years

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Tumblr iOS developer, I’m coming for you.

#why don’t settings actually work #why shorten every post even when I have it turned off #why put all the garbage in the tabs at the top #like what is WRONG with you #know your fucking user base #we don’t want algorithms #we make and curate our own algorithm for our feed #idk why I’m so mad.

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elryuse · 24 days

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THE SCENT OF JASMINE FLOWERS

WONYOUNG X MALE READER X GAEUL

TAGS : LOVE TRIANGLE, CHEATING WONYOUNG, LIGHT YANDERE GAEUL, ANGST, HAPPY END, FLUFF

The city lights blurred past the taxi window, a kaleidoscope of neon mirroring the turmoil within me. Each raindrop hitting the pavement echoed the hammering in my chest. Wonyoung was gone, not physically – she still shared our apartment, a ghost haunting its familiar walls – but emotionally, her heart stolen by a cruel mirage.

Sunghoon. The name felt like a curse word on my tongue. He was everything I wasn't – loud, flashy, the center of attention. Wonyoung, my sunshine, my Wonyoung, had been lured by his supernova glow, leaving me in the cold, desolate space he left behind.

We were the perfect couple, or so everyone thought. Public appearances, stolen kisses on award shows, our social media a testament to a love people envied. But behind the curated feed, cracks had begun to show. Her lingering glances at Sunghoon, the whispered conversations during interviews I couldn't decipher.

I buried my head in the sand, clinging to the illusion of our happiness. Until the day I saw the message. A careless text left open on her phone, a single sentence that shattered our carefully constructed world.

"Meet me tonight, baby. Can't wait to see you again."

The phone slipped from my grasp, crashing onto the coffee table like a gunshot. The once-sweet scent of her perfume in the air turned suffocating.

Days bled into weeks, a hollow space where Wonyoung used to be. Calls went unanswered, texts ignored. The guilt gnawed at her, I knew, her apologies echoing in a phone call that replayed on a loop in my mind. But the words, laced with a desperation I no longer recognized, rang hollow.

My saving grace, my lighthouse in this storm, was Gaeul. Wonyoung's best friend, always a presence on the periphery of our relationship. Now, she was the constant by my side, a silent pillar of support.

Nights were the worst. Sitting in the living room, the echo of our laughter bouncing off the walls like a cruel ghost. Gaeul would sit beside me, a warm presence against the chill that enveloped me. Her hand, a grounding force.

One night, as sobs wracked my body, a flicker of something new sparked in her eyes. Not pity, but a hesitant understanding. A silent confession we both acknowledged but couldn't yet voice.

Wonyoung returned, a broken bird with tear-streaked cheeks. Her apologies were a torrent of words, a desperate attempt to rewind time. But the pieces of our love were scattered, impossible to reassemble.

My heart, once overflowing with love for the girl with sunshine hair, was now a barren landscape. The thrill she craved had left her empty, the excitement a fleeting mirage.

Gaeul was different. Her love was a quiet flame, a steady warmth in the storm. Her eyes held a depth I hadn't noticed before, a quiet strength that complemented my own.

As Wonyoung packed her things, a ghost leaving the life she'd built, a flicker of hope ignited within me. It wasn't the same fierce love I once held for Wonyoung, but it was a spark nonetheless.

Looking at Gaeul, her hand resting on mine, I finally found the words that had been lost, choked by sorrow.

"Gaeul," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I think… I think I might be falling for you."

The rain outside had stopped, replaced by a sliver of moonlight peeking through the clouds. A new beginning, fragile but hopeful, stretched before me. The love I once had for Wonyoung, a vibrant flower, might have wilted, but from its ashes, a different kind of love bloomed. A quiet love, a steady flame, waiting to be nurtured.

Timeskip

The scent of jasmine, once a sweet reminder of Gaeul's calming presence, now made my stomach churn. It clung to the air like a ghost, a stark contrast to the cloying perfume that filled the apartment when Wonyoung reappeared.

"Y/n," she breathed, her voice trembling like a teardrop. She stood in the doorway, my name a soft plea on her lips. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The Wonyoung I knew, the vibrant sunshine girl, was gone, replaced by a fragile wisp of a woman desperate for redemption.

"Wonyoung," I mumbled, unsure of what to say. Gaeul was away for the weekend, visiting her family. A selfish part of me, a flicker of the love that still flickered like a dying ember, welcomed this unexpected visit.

"Can I come in?" she pleaded, her voice a mere whisper. I hesitated, the image of Gaeul, her hand intertwined with mine, flashing in my mind. But Wonyoung's watery eyes were too much to bear.

"Just for a bit," I muttered, stepping aside.

She moved like a wisp, collapsing onto the couch I used to share with Gaeul. The scent of jasmine mingled with the heavy perfume, creating a suffocating mix.

"I miss you, Y/n," she confessed, her voice barely audible. "I miss us."

My heart clenched. The memories flooded back – stolen kisses in backstage corridors, whispered secrets under a blanket of stars. But that time had passed, replaced by Gaeul's quiet strength, her unwavering support.

"Gaeul..." I started, but she cut me off.

"Gaeul is kind," she said, her voice laced with something bitter. "But she doesn't understand you like I do."

She took a step closer, her hand brushing against mine. The touch sent a jolt through me, a betrayal of the fragile peace I'd found with Gaeul.

"We could try again, Y/n," she whispered, her voice husky. "Forget Sunghoon, forget everything. We can be like we were before."

Her words were a siren song, a desperate attempt to rewind time. The Wonyoung I once loved stood before me, but the ghost of Gaeul's hurt loomed large.

"Wonyoung..." I began, searching for the right words.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Gaeul stood there, framed by the entrance, a dark cloud behind the veil of her hair. Her face, usually radiating warmth, was set in a mask of cold fury.

"Gaeul," I stammered, the air thickening with tension.

Wonyoung, sensing the shift in atmosphere, whipped around, her eyes widening in surprise.

"What's going on here?" Gaeul asked, her voice devoid of its usual gentleness. It was a voice I'd never heard before, a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.

Wonyoung, flustered, stammered an explanation. But Gaeul cut her off, her gaze fixed on me.

"Y/n," she said, her voice a chilling whisper. "Is everything alright?"

The question hung in the air, an accusation disguised as concern. The possessiveness in her voice, the way she clung to the words "everything alright" like a lifeline, was unsettling.

"Yes," I lied, my voice thin. "We were just… catching up."

Gaeul's gaze never left me. It was an intense scrutiny that made me feel like a bug pinned under a microscope. The jasmine scent, which once offered solace, now felt like a suffocating prison.

Wonyoung, sensing the hostility, opted for a graceful retreat. Mumbling a quick goodbye, she practically flew out of the apartment, leaving an unsettling quiet behind.

Gaeul turned to me, her eyes filled with a storm of emotions. The love, the possessiveness, the anger – it all swirled together in a terrifying cocktail.

"Don't let her manipulate you again, Y/n," she hissed, her voice tight with barely concealed rage.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. The Gaeul I knew, the comforting presence, seemed to have vanished. In her place stood a woman I didn't recognize, a woman consumed by a love that had turned possessive.

The night that followed was a blur of accusations and justifications. My apartment, once a haven of peace, became a battleground. The love triangle that had started with Wonyoung's infidelity had now morphed into a suffocating web of possessiveness, with Gaeul as the spider at its center.

As the sun peeked through the blinds, casting harsh light on the wreckage of the night, I knew things couldn't go on like this. My once cozy apartment, filled with shared laughter and the scent of Gaeul's jasmine tea, now reeked of tension and the cloying perfume Wonyoung had worn.

Gaeul sat on the couch, her back ramrod straight, arms crossed tightly across her chest. Gone was the gentle touch that used to comfort me, replaced by a cold, unyielding demeanor.

"Gaeul," I started, my voice hoarse. "We need to talk about this."

She finally looked at me, but not in the way I craved. Her eyes, usually sparkling with warmth, were hard and calculating.

"What is there to talk about, Y/n?" she spat. "Wonyoung just waltzes back in after breaking your heart, and you're ready to fall for her all over again?"

"No," I said, trying to defend myself. "I just... I don't know what happened last night. It was wrong, and I'm sorry."

Her lips turned into a thin line. "Sorry doesn't fix things, Y/n. You need to make a choice. Me or her."

The ultimatum hung heavy in the air. The Gaeul I knew wouldn't have issued such an order. This possessive stranger felt like someone I barely recognized.

"Gaeul," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "We haven't even…"

"Haven't even what?" she snapped. "Haven't confessed our feelings? We've been there for each other through everything, Y/n. Isn't that enough?"

Her voice cracked on the last word, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the facade. But the possessiveness remained, a dark cloud clouding her love.

The truth was, it was enough. Gaeul's unwavering support had been a lifeline during the storm of Wonyoung's betrayal. Yet, the way she was acting now felt suffocating. Did I love Gaeul? In the aftermath of Wonyoung's heartbreak, maybe it was a form of gratitude, a comfort zone I'd settled into.

"Gaeul," I tried again, "I need time."

Her eyes narrowed. "Time for what, Y/n? To run back to Wonyoung's arms the moment she bats her eyelashes at you?"

"No," I said, more firmly this time. "Time to figure out what this is, between us. This possessiveness… it scares me."

The anger in her eyes flickered momentarily, replaced by a flicker of sadness. "Is that all I am to you, Y/n? Just a possession to be claimed or discarded?"

My heart ached. The Gaeul I knew wouldn't have spoken like this. The love that bound us, now twisted by her possessiveness, threatened to unravel completely.

"Gaeul, you're not just a possession," I said, trying to reach her. "You're my friend, my support system. But… but this isn't healthy. We both need space."

She stood up abruptly, her movements jerky and tense. "Fine," she spat, the word laced with hurt and anger. "Have your space, Y/n. Just don't come crawling back to me when you realize you threw away the good thing you had right here."

With that, she stormed out of the apartment, leaving me alone with the ghosts of the night and the deafening silence in its wake.

The following days were a blur. Neither Gaeul nor Wonyoung contacted me. The space I'd craved felt more like a desolate wasteland. The apartment, once a haven, felt empty without the comforting scent of jasmine tea or the familiar warmth of Gaeul's presence.

As the days turned into weeks, a strange realization dawned on me. My feelings for Wonyoung, once a passionate inferno, had dwindled to embers. The betrayal had left an indelible mark, a permanent scar on our relationship.

What about Gaeul? The possessiveness that had initially scared me, now felt like a twisted reflection of the love she held for me. A love that, however distorted, was genuine.

One evening, I decided to take a chance. Armed with a bouquet of jasmine flowers, I stood outside Gaeul's apartment, my heart pounding a nervous rhythm against my ribs.

After a long wait, the door creaked open. Gaeul stood there, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed.

"Y/n?" she said, her voice thick with surprise.

I held out the bouquet, the jasmine flowers radiating a comforting scent. Gaeul's gaze softened, a flicker of recognition replacing the initial shock.

"Gaeul," I began, my voice rough with emotion. "I messed up. Big time."

She didn't say anything, but her eyes held a silent invitation to continue.

"I was scared," I confessed, taking a deep breath. "Scared of losing you, scared of letting go of the comfort you offered. But my fear twisted your love, turned it into something unhealthy."

The vulnerability in my voice seemed to resonate with her. A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a glistening path down her cheek.

"I don't want Wonyoung," I continued, my gaze meeting hers with newfound clarity. "The woman I miss is the one who brought me jasmine tea in the mornings, the one who held me through the night when my heart ached. The woman I love is you, Gaeul."

A hesitant smile bloomed on her face, as beautiful as the first flower peeking through winter's frost. She stepped closer, the scent of jasmine mingling with the warmth of her body.

"Gaeul," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Can I… can I kiss you?"

Her eyes fluttered shut, a silent permission. As our lips met, a spark ignited, a gentle flame rekindled by honesty and second chances. The kiss wasn't fiery or passionate, but filled with a quiet understanding, a promise of a future built on trust and love.

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of apologies, forgiveness, and cautious exploration of this newfound love. We talked for hours, peeling away the layers of fear and misunderstanding.

One evening, as the city lights twinkled outside our window, casting a warm glow on the apartment once filled with tension, I knelt before Gaeul, holding a small velvet box.

"Gaeul," I said, my voice thick with emotion, "You were my friend, my rock, and now you're the love of my life. Will you marry me?"

Tears welled up in her eyes, a radiant smile breaking through the dam. "Yes," she whispered, her voice choked with happy tears.

The following year, surrounded by friends and family, we exchanged vows. The jasmine scent filled the air, a symbol of love, comfort, and a second chance. As I looked into Gaeul's eyes, brimming with love and joy, I knew I had found not just a wife, but a partner who understood the complexities of love and was willing to work through them.

The love triangle that had threatened to tear my life apart had ultimately led me to the one person who truly mattered. And with each passing year, the love we shared, nurtured by honesty and trust, only grew stronger.

#ive gaeul #ive wonyoung #ive starship #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #apreciation post #update #yandere #angst #kpop fluff #wonyoung #kim gaeul

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morallyinept · 2 months

Text

A Cup Of Love - A Dieter Bravo One Shot ☕️

Summary: Dieter makes you a cup of tea.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. However, I have made a brief mention of Reader having a real body with stretch marks, as with Dieter with him ageing and greying.)

Word Count: 2.1k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️“Don't hurt me, cadejo.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!) Brief mention of drugs - nothing graphic. Dieter and Reader have REAL bodies. Mostly fluffy and soft. Dieter is a total sweetheart.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: The amazing Gi @tightjeansjavi and I got to talking today about Dieter and tea, and we were both inspired to write a little something about, uh, Dieter and tea! ☕️🫖 Please ensure your check out Gi's amazing Tea Party story! And her other Dieter story Chamomile, which started our adventure down the tea-drinking rabbit hole! Love you, Gi 😘

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CUP OF LOVE MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

As Dieter stands in the kitchen, preparing the tea with careful precision, he can't help but marvel at the stark contrast between the often debilitating chaos of his career, and the tranquillity of his home life with you.

It still feels new, that band around his puffy wedding finger gleaming up at him, not tarnished like his other rings. Shiny, untainted.

Like a whirlwind on set, he often finds himself swept up in the frenzied gluttony of fame, dabbling in the temptations that lurk in the shadows with shiny lacquer talons beckoning him in.

They whisper his name with insidious crackles, sharp teeth that glisten in their false fanged smiles. His dishevelled face imprinted on sleazy tabloids, and ruthlessly scathing reviews of his work, that seek to further besmirch his tattered legacy.

There was a time when Dieter Bravo gave them two thick fingers, caring little and indulging in the hedonism that such a career and all of its chromatic glitz offered in abundance. It literally fell into his lap and gyrated suggestively on it.

And instead of pushing it away, he stuffed crumpled, one-hundred dollar bills into its g-string and snorted lines from its ample cleavage without a care in the world.

He was sucked in, drowning in front of an unsatisfied audience, who clapped lazily and jeered instead of throwing him a much needed life buoy. The drowning man, coughing water from his lungs as they hand him gold statues, and plaques with his name engraved on.

A name that sounds more like a third wheel in his life with you, dragging its baggage in from the doorstep and forgetting to wipe its feet as it traipses the clotting mud of his life over the polished wooden floors.

But here, in the quiet sanctuary of your shared kitchen, humble with the soft glow of morning light filtering through the window, Dieter feels it all wash away; the bawdy grime of a soiled past rinsing down the plug hole.

Gone are the days of wild partying with yes-men, drug-fuelled binges and scandalous social feeds, to be replaced with knuckling down, taking the better scripts with characters of substance, and potential Oscar nominations attached to them.

He’s traded the bizarre, the outlandish, for the quiet and the subdued. For the homemade, the curated and the simple joys of growing older with an aching back.

He’s traded it all for something far greater than any of it all; coming home to you.

With each measured movement - the precise amount of tea leaves, the exact temperature of the water - he finds solace in the routine of making a simple cup of tea, a stark departure from the unpredictability of his previous, voracious world.

With the tea steeped to perfection, Dieter pours it into your favourite cup, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him.

As he stirs the heady tea, watching the leaves dance in the whirlpool of hot water, he can't help but think of you; his anchor, his steady hand in the midst of the choppy storms.

With you by his side, he feels grounded, connected to the earth by his feet once more; his erratic impulses tempered by your steady presence and a spiritual awakening.

The heavy drag of his hand over his weathered face as he yawns, an itching nostril that tickles, and he tosses the spoon in the sink, metallic chimes echoing in his ears.

He allows himself a moment to savour it, the scent, the quiet. A moment to just breathe. In and out, his chest expanding as he closes his eyes, hands resting on the counter.

Leaving the nagging ache in his shoulder from the stunt work dulling into a silent pang. The bruises will fade, it all heals in the end. Regrowth, second chances... another shot at the important things.

With the cup cradled in his hands, rings chinking delicately against the porcelain, he makes his way to the bedroom, where you lay in the billowy sheets, your features softened by sleep.

He takes a moment, lingering in the crack of the door silently, a ghost in his own home watching from afar, unable to be fully corporeal, a real boy.

Hovering in the draw of you, he wonders what you dream about. If the world you’re in is better than what he offers you. He tells himself to stop being ridiculous, that he’s deserving of your love, right?

Right?

You looked so fucking beautiful on the day you vowed to love and cherish him, warts and all. A lump in his throat, seafoam in his eyes as the wind tousled the flowers in your hair.

The hushed, reverend tones of your friends and families, they all washed away, swept out with the tide, and it was just the two of you for a few moments, hands knotted, hearts entwined. An intricate lace dress and a sand coloured suit. Dieter knew then he could do this, with you.

For you.

He could pick himself up, dust himself down and be what you needed. He vowed to be strong for you when he'd spent so long feeling weak, small.

On that day, he finally learned how to be selfless.

A tender smile unfolding over his crooked lips, Dieter observes you for a moment, marvelling at the gentle rise and fall of your bare chest on display for him. Nipples swollen, seemingly double their circumference in the heat, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by his own body as he stiffens at the sight of you.

Throbbing and heavy between his legs, the view of you melting him into the floor.

As he holds the scalding cup in his hands, the steam curling into his nose in gentle tendrils, he pushes the door fully open and approaches the bed.

He knows just how to rouse you from slumber without disrupting your tranquil state.

The aroma of the tea wafts through the room, a delicate rapture of fragrances that wilt in the air. With each inhale, Dieter is greeted by the rich, earthy scent, mingling with delicate notes of jasmine and bergamot.

It’s a quietly comforting aroma, one that envelopes him like a warm embrace, soothing his senses and calming the restless tornadoes in his mind.

A smell that is familiarly and uniquely, you.

Sitting gently on the bed beside you, resting on his elbow, he traces the curve of your jaw with his fingertips, watching your eyes flicker under the lids.

A soft moan escapes you on a gossamer breath, barely heard over the timid whistle of the radiator in the room.

As Dieter leans closer into you, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply the sweet scent of your hair. It’s a fragrance that never fails to intoxicate him, a delicate blend of coconut and vanilla that lingers long after you've left the room.

He’s transported to the beach once again where you'd promised you were his, forever. A hand he can squeeze and show off on the red carpets, look, she’s mine. She loves me… A smile he can eagerly chase with his lips.

A partner he can grow old with and reminisce about life whilst your bones shape around the rocking chairs on your porch. Papery hands held tight together as you wait for the pearlescent dust of death.

An eternal cup of tea he can make for you, just because.

With each breath, he feels a sense of calm wash over him, as if your very essence has the power to chase away the lingering shadows of doubt and uncertainty that like to piggyback on his shoulders.

It’s in these quiet moments, when the world seems to stand still, that Dieter feels the full force of his love for you wash over him like a tidal wave. The drowning man, coughing water from his lungs as you pull him out of the salty brine and into your arms.

He could just paint you right now, whip out another canvas and let your love guide his brush once more. Your face adorns the walls in collections of his signature style; a wallpaper of affection. Your eyes, your smile; the way your hair dances and beckons him into the acrylic world created by his once numb fingers.

Dieter presses his cracked lips to your forehead and then your cheek as you stir.

When you wake up, your eyes slowly flutter open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains and the delicate smooches painting your face.

As your gaze meets his, there’s a fleeting moment of confusion, followed by a dawning recognition that spreads across your features like the first golden light of the sunrise. Your lips curve into a sleepy smile, your eyes alight with warmth and adoration as you take in the hazy, messy aura of him beside you, holding the steaming cup in his big hands.

There’s a certain softness in your gaze, a tenderness that speaks volumes without the need for words to be sounded out around clumsy vowels. It’s as if you can see straight into him, unravelling the layers of his complicated and erratic being with a single glance that strips him to bone and sinew.

“You look tired, baby.”

“Long flight.” He yawns, all fillings in his back molars, all deep crinkles around his eyes.

He slips you the cup as you smile at him, offering him that grin that makes him feel so big and powerful, even when he feels like sludge.

He watches you take a sip, eyes closing in blissful contentment and humming at the warm taste as you feel it make its way down into your chest.

“Good?”

“Perfect,” you say, your fingers stroking the fine, grey scruff of his jaw as he blushes.

He nestles into your palm, mouthing a kiss on it, deep brown eyes lancing at you longingly. A lost boy in a tired man’s body coming home to you, offering more than the riches of a name chiselled inside a scuff-worn star on a boulevard in a dirty city with dimming bright lights.

No, he offers you his love in fragrant liquid form, a small yellow ocean to sail together in a teacup. An I love you curated in the moments of the simple art of patience and preparation.

You can taste it as it warms through your insides.

“Come here,” you open your arms out, after discarding the cup, and he can’t resist, shuffling out of his clothes that carry the stress of his journey quickly, leaving the sag of them hanging off the bed like shedding his skin.

He seeks your own for that one-on-one comfort, sharing your sleepy heat in the soft sheets. He covets to feel you pressed up naked against him, slotting easily around the misshapen lumps and bumps of a body well-abused.

He sniffs you in deep, to the back of his nostrils, but you don’t burn or fizz as you go down. Dieter can breathe you in freely and doesn't choke when you make his head spin.

You're his favourite kind of drug.

Wrapping his thick arms around you, Dieter pulls you close, revelling in the familiar weight of your body against his; your fingers sweeping across his broad chest, rifling through the sparse grey hairs here and there. A journey finalised when you finger in the grey, fluffed curls at the back of his neck, twirling them around the tips.

Nose pressed under his jaw as you inhale notes of his dying cologne and musky sweat from his travels. Eyelashes tickling softly against a constellation of freckles. Your clammy thigh hooked over the softness of his belly that he grips, his own fingers stroking at your marred skin with crinkly stretch marks.

He runs his fingers up and down the zig-zags of them, making you shudder, and he hums into your scalp, awed at the reaction from his touch.

Dieter takes a few moments, remembering what it feels like to be home in your arms. To understand finally that home isn’t just some fancy condo on a hilltop overlooking the City of Angels, nor a place full of frivolous, pointless things - it’s you.

Home is in the smile you blind him with, the sound of your laughter pummelling his ears deafening him. The feel of your body crushing him into the mattress as you gift him every piece of your love without expecting anything in return.

But he gives you all of him back, because that's all he has to offer.

And you accept this disasterous, frail human, cradling him tight like a scraggly bear left out in the rain, cold and discarded.

He gives you all his love in the only way he knows how; raw and scarred.

Dieter kisses you, tilting your chin up to his and losing himself in you. He’s been lost for so long, only being found the day he met you. The day he fell head over heels for an angel.

Lips sweep over one another, reminding him of your taste, the way you moan gently into the cavities, how your nails rake gently, but tingly, down the broad expanse of his back making him shudder in turn with want and need.

The way you simply kiss his bruises and aches, from weeks of throwing himself around sets, away, makes him fall harder to his knees.

You reach out to him, your hands seeking his naked flesh in the crumpled sheets, your legs cinching around his paunchy waist, the brush of his hardened cock catching in the crease of your thigh.

He feels your breath, warm and pleasant on his eyelids when you gasp, filling you up with him. Thick, warm, wet…

Pushes his thick cock slowly and deliberately inside of you, equally burying himself in this feeling that comes without a name, an unconditional tattoo inked on a pair of stumpy hearts.

You bind him to you, his face in your chest, kissing, nuzzling. Your hands in his hair, stroking, combing. A ghost of his name falling from your lips, mouth full of him.

“My tea will get cold…” You pant softly into his eyelashes as you take him all in, connected as one again; hips gently grinding against one another. Chests pressed together, hearts beating as one.

“I’ll make you another cup.” Dieter murmurs, as his mouth latches onto yours.

Thank you so much for reading this little, soft Dieter story. I hope you enjoyed it and as always, would love to know your thoughts. 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal #dieter bravo #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo the bubble #jett's writing

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wip · 8 months

Note

just how many official tumblr blogs are there? i just recently found out that this one and changes exists which seems less than ideal

Hey, @limelocked!

Great question! We have, we hope, a great answer for you. First up is a comprehensive list of all of current active staff blogs.

You can find ’em by simply searching each name, + @, in the search bar. (i.e., @action)

@action: Highlighting Tumblr’s long-standing social justice priorities of racial justice, mental health, equality, and beyond.

@art Exploring and featuring original artists on Tumblr.

@artistalley: Supporting local artists on Tumblr by buying directly from their storefronts.

@artistpicks: Monthly curated experience by artists and creators on Tumblr.

@best-of-reblogs: A curated collection of some of the best reblog threads on Tumblr.

@bigweekon: Tumblr’s beloved podcast highlighting recent trends, memes, and more.

@blackexcellence: A showcase of things all Black, all excellent, past and present—literature, fashion, music, historical spotlights, and beyond.

@books: Exclusive interviews and curated content from authors, publishers, and book fans.

@changes: Your go-to for new Tumblr launches, bug fixes, and updates on platform.

@creatrs: A network that connects artists, makers, and builders with brands.

@emporium: The Official Blog of the Tumblr Shop™, run by Brick Whartley back from the Island.

@entertainment: Exclusive content and features from across TV, film, and streaming.

@engineering: Behind-the-scenes work on how Tumblr engineers build Tumblr.

@fandom: Home of Fandometrics, Tumblr’s weekly ranking of entertainment properties.

@fashion: Runways to streetwear and every style in between.

@featured: Featuring exclusive content from Tumblr’s many good, good blogs.

@gaming: Exclusive and curated content across mainstream and indie games.

@getloudr An in-kind ad donation program dedicated to amplifying marginalized voices.

@happytuesday: A blog dedicated to all our Tumblr Tuesdays, posts featuring users based on a weekly theme.

@humans: A blog we use so we can reply in the notes of various posts.

@kpop: Exclusive content and a curated experience of K-Pop on Tumblr.

@labs: A way for engineers at Tumblr to experiment in public.

@music: Exclusive content and features on all your favorite musical artists.

@postitforward: Supporting the community with resources for mental health, self-care, and wellness.

@prideplus: Your home for all things LGBTQIA+ on Tumblr.

@radar: Sharing four pieces of original posts from Tumblr artists per day, hand-curated by our team from across the globe.

@staff: The ultimate source for big news, platform updates, and everything that makes Tumblr, Tumblr.

@support: News, tips, and nerdy details from Tumblr Support.

@tee: A blog from your friendly neighborhood Tumblr user, Tee.

@todayontumblr: Daily curated content around trending topics on Tumblr.

@wip: Dedicated to feedback and questions from Tumblr users to Tumblr staff.

There’s more. For our global audiences, you can find all the localized Staff blogs. They’re linked here!

We also have a carousel in the feed somewhere called “Official Blogs,” but it might be that we need to make that more obvious or provide a dedicated feed or page somewhere.

Leave that last point with us, but we hope that helps! Thanks for your question, and have a good day.

(And a tip of the hat to you, @lizzieonka! Consider them tagged)

Best,

—Caragh, Cates, and Cyle

#editorial #blogs #wip speaks

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ascxer · 21 days

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Let’s remember what agere is, and that it’s not one size fits all.

I feel like a lot of people forget that at the end of the day, agere is often a coping mechanism for people with significant trauma. Which means the experience is going to be different for everyone. Different tastes, coping mechanisms, different Everything.

With such a vast diversity of people, a little curation on your end of your personal experience is needed in order to ensure your agere feed suits you.

I’ve done so personally for media I feel uncomfortable about , and often see in sfw agere, but the last thing I will do is expect them to not use a tag they have any right to use just because my personal experience with what they like is a negative one, I’ll just block and move on. It’s important to use appropriate tags, but with how tumblr works, (admittedly tags aren’t exactly tumblrs strong suit) things you don’t like are going to slip through the cracks regardless, so action on your end is ultimately required when it’s all said and done.

Let’s not bring the silly drama adults have over likes and dislikes here, because at the end of the day we are all sharing the same space. We can’t possibly expect to curate what fandoms, music, aesthetics, characters, etc etc, appear in Sfw agere.

Everyone is comforted by different things, and they have any right to share that with like minded people whom they can relate to.

I don’t always feel comfortable around some of the fandoms I see in SFW agere, but I realize that it’s a personal thing on my end, which requires action on my end (such as blocking), and I know that they have as much of a right to be in sfw agere as I do. As long as someone is experiencing Sfw agere and sharing sfw agere art,fiction, photos, etc, then they have any right to post in sfw agere regardless of what fandom, aesthetic, and interest, it may happen to be. I for one hope that anyone who happens to have interests I am uncomfortable about, find meaningful interactions and connections through SFW agere.

This is a sentiment I really wish i saw more of. Despite our differences, we all deserve the same experience, and none of us should have to limit ourselves to fewer tags when we very well all deserve to be here.

#sfw agere #agere #age regression #hazbin hotel agere #tadc agere #the amazing digital circus agere #helluva boss agere #fandom agere

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changes · 9 months

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Tuesday, August 1st, 2023

🌟 New

On the Android app, we’ve removed the dashboard welcome popup for new users so they can get to finding and curating great content sooner.

If you have a custom domain through tumblr, we’ve now given you the option to transfer it away to a new registrar.

To help us act quickly on abusive content, the reporting forms now require a link to the post, image, or comment that is being reported.

We are removing the “Recently followed” label that is presented in the post header section, from posts that are displayed on the following feed after you follow a new blog.

🛠 Fixed

The crabs stole this blog’s checkmarks, but they’ve brought them back.

We fixed a bug on web where the activity page wasn’t highlighting new items when you navigated there from the account drop-down.

On web, we’ve removed the link to this blog from the Account menu. It didn’t really belong there, and we’re trying to tidy that menu up to make your blogs easier to manage.

🚧 Ongoing

We are continuing to remove the option to use the legacy post editor for more users.

We are aware of an issue preventing some videos from being played in the iOS app and are working on a fix as quickly as we can.

🌱 Upcoming

Nothing to report here today.

Experiencing an issue? File a Support Request and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can!

Want to share your feedback about something? Check out our Work in Progress blog and start a discussion with the community.

#tumblr update

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bsdfanweek · 4 months

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SKK VALENTINE’S WEEK PROMPTS LIST IS HERE

Guidelines below

Day 1: Love | Valentine’s Day | “May I?”

Day 2: Camellias | Floral Troubles | “You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Day 3: Cake | Secret Relationship | “Really? That one?”

Day 4: Unrequited | Almost Too Late | “Your beauty never ever scared me.”

Day 5: Soulmates | Alternate Universe | “Are we fighting or flirting?”

Day 6: Cuddling | Memories | “In my defence, I was left unsupervised.”

Day 7: Free Day — Go wild with your own prompts!

Guidelines:

All prompts are open to both SFW and NSFW interpretation

We welcome all forms of work, including and not limited to fanart, fanfic, threadfics, headcanons, edits and so on

We will be reblogging all works. When posting, tag us here @bsdfanweek so we can find your work and reblog/interact with it (note: this event is run on Twitter as well. Tag us if you post there and we’ll retweet your submissions!)

Other tags are to your own discretion, however we do ask that all NSFW works must be tagged accordingly to allow others to curate their feed and filter accordingly

If you have any questions, our ask box is open. We can’t wait to see what comes of these prompts!

Wishing everyone an early happy Valentine's and have fun creating! ❤️

#bsd event #bsd ship week #bungou stray dogs #skk event #skk ship week #soukoku #bsd #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #bsd Dazai #bsd Chuuya #Valentine’s prompts #Valentine’s event #soukoku ship week

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plutoccult · 2 months

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BEAUTIFUL STRANGER

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader

description: a beautiful stranger shakes up your once boring and repetitive morning commute on the train.

word count: 3.4k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: hello! i’m no stranger to writing, but i’m definitely a stranger when it comes to writing for idols. this is the first time i’ve ever done so, and who better to write for than my ultimate bias hyunjin? stray kids is my favorite group, so i’d like to write more content for them in the future. thank you to my pookie wookie lills (YES, we unironically call each other pookie, it’s our thing) for beta reading, and i hope you enjoy <3

soundtrack: beautiful stranger, enchanted

tags: @solefleurs @heavenfilm @5sos-wdw @todorokiskitten @rylea08 @br3anna-nels0n @hyunjinloverrrr

taglist form here

you always found an array of characters during your morning commute on the paris metro. there’d always be locals, some on their way to work or home just like you. amongst the locals were tourists decked out in overpriced souvenirs specifically curated for suckers like them. at night, there were drunks who thankfully were smart enough not to drive. the reek of alcohol on them wasn’t that amusing, you must admit.

despite the variety of people you could see passing by on your commutes, it grew boring. always the same thing every single day. not even the music playing in your headphones or the book you brought with you that day could make time go faster. it’s not like it would be any better once you got off the train either. your life was incredibly dull and repetitive. if only something could serve as a change of pace.

to think that your life had become boring in a place like paris of all places. it’s the city of love, is it not? even if you were created out of love and born in a city all about that concept, you had none of it. maybe that’s why you felt this way. no matter how many times you pass the same streets or enter the same train station, you had yet to find the one thing everyone seemed to look for so easily here.

you had basically given up at this point, committed to living an empty life where all you did was work, eat, sleep, then repeat. it’s what most people do in other countries anyway, might as well join the party. the second you had fully lost all hope, however, was when you saw the most beautiful stranger on the train. you almost wanted to slap yourself for being so pessimistic before.

you walked onto the train with the expectation of just sitting around until you got to your stop. as you walked to your usual seat, that’s where you found your beautiful stranger, sitting in the seat right across from the one you sat in every single day without fail.

you knew you had never seen him before. you take this train almost every damn day, so who was he? had he just moved here? was he a tourist? where’s the “i love paris” shirt and the eiffel tower keychain made of shitty plastic? instead, he was dressed like someone meant to be on billboards and magazines. surely had the face to fit the bill too. he was undoubtedly breathtaking, and he ultimately captivated you upon first sight.

it was pathetic how you hesitated to sit down. he didn’t seem to waver, looking down at his phone. from the reflection of his sunglasses—yes, you were that curious—he seemed to be swiping through photos. you assumed they were ones he had taken around the city. paris was definitely filled with photo opportunities, so you couldn’t blame him for that one. it’ll look good on anyone’s instagram feed.

you try your best to make yourself look occupied. shuffling through your bag to find a book, the rummaging sounds catch the attention of your beautiful stranger. your eyes meet for a brief moment when you turn your body to lean back in your seat with a book in hand. despite how quick the moment was, you swore your heart dropped the second you caught his gaze.

oh god, was this the excitement you had been waiting for? you couldn’t mistake it as anything else. leave it up to you to fall for a stranger upon first sight, but who cares? finally, finally, your life had begun to be painted in color. even if it was just for a moment, you’d savor this one train ride that actually seemed worthwhile for once in your life.

you steal glances at him every so often, praying he wouldn’t catch you and make you feel embarrassed for staring. you just couldn’t help yourself, he was like a walking renaissance painting. actually, you don’t even think da vinci would be capable of capturing the essence of someone who looked like a real-life prince.

the moment you knew you had reached your stop, you wished you could glue yourself to your seat so you had no choice but to stay on the train with your beautiful stranger a little longer. as much as you wanted to, you simply couldn’t, having no choice but to say goodbye without actually saying a word at all.

it was silly to think a stranger on the train could change your life in an instant. still, you were grateful for the temporary change of pace. if only you could thank him somehow, but alas, you knew you had no chance of seeing him again.

•••

the next day, you found your beautiful stranger again, this time sketching down something in a sketchbook. you caught him looking at everyone who walked onto the train, and when it was finally your turn to step on, he actually smiled once he laid eyes on you. it all felt like you were dreaming. if this was cloud nine, then you had finally reached it.

when you walked over to your seat across from his, you noticed he clutched the sketchbook close to his chest, almost like he didn’t want you to see what he was drawing. you were too shy to speak up and spark a conversation with him anyway, so it wasn’t like you would pry. still, you were curious to know what was on the page.

it pained you knowing you lacked any courage. you found you were better off acting like you were interested in your book, on a random page as you were too in your head to actually start from where you left off and completely ignored the folded page that indicated that. what would happen if you said hello? would he say hi back? ask if you’d like to see what he’s drawing or ask about what you’re reading? the possibilities seemed to be endless, but the possibilities seemed safer as thoughts in your head rather than facing reality if you were to take a chance.

you can’t help but watch intently as his face scrunched from focusing on his sketch, his only tool a wooden pencil. did he plan to color it later? you can imagine trying to avoid rattling colored pencils leaving his possession due to the bumpiness of the train. he was quite brave for trying to draw in a place like this, you thought.

unnoticed by you, your beautiful stranger’s cheeks flushed and ears burned red as he could feel you watching him draw. the subject of his drawing still remained a mystery to you, however. tempting to spark up a conversation, yet so debilitatingly scary at the same time.

it seemed rude to stare for so long, so you put a stop to it immediately and busied yourself with your phone, catching up with texts you had missed since getting up for work. your phone was always blown up with texts from your friends, today being no different. if you didn’t silence your phone at night, you would never get any sleep.

they had been informed about your current saga, and the update would certainly excite them. it was hard to resist a smile as you texted them about the latest scoop, especially as the subject of said scoop was only a few meters away from you. maybe this should wait until later, otherwise they’d trying forcing you out of your comfort zone by talking to who was still a total stranger at the end of the day.

who knows though? for all you know, he could be a murderer. a stinking gorgeous one too. as if you need to be on the evening news. even so, those were just silly thoughts, all just an excuse to stop yourself from taking a chance at something for once in your life out of fear.

the second you reached your stop, you instantly regretted being so silent. would it have killed you to try? it felt like it would’ve, but you figured this morning was the last chance you’d have. if only you weren’t such a scaredy cat.

•••

after your shift, an unexpected reunion occurred on the evening commute. the train was quite crowded at this time of day, majority of the aboard trying to get home after a long day’s work, including you. the surplus of people made it quite difficult to find seating, but luckily for you, your beautiful stranger had a seat occupied by his bag, perfect for you to sit.

this was the extra chance you craved the second you got off the train earlier, cursing yourself throughout the day for not even attempting to just say hello. you were so thankful to see him again, it was almost like the universe blessed you for this very purpose. you were such a wuss this morning, but you refused to allow that reputation to continue now.

once you took a deep breath, you walked to where your beautiful stranger sat, trying to keep your balance as the train moved at rapid speed. in the midst of your struggle, the sound of your footsteps thumping on the ground caught his attention. he looked up in surprise, not expecting to see you, but thrilled nonetheless.

“hi.” you miraculously manage to speak out, your accent making an appearance during your pathetic english. it was agonizing how your heart raced a mile a minute just by uttering one word, so you tried your very best to calm yourself down. “is this seat taken?”

“no, no…” he replied to your question, picking up his bag and moving it to the floor by his feet so you could sit. “here.”

“thank you.” you say before taking the seat next to him.

god, your heart was thumping like the loudest drum ever created. to sit across from his was one thing, but right next to each other, shoulders brushing due to the lack of room? if only you could put a stop to this rapid percussion inside you. at least the sounds of the train rumbling against the tracks could serve as buffer for the unspoken tension between you and your beautiful stranger.

his sketchbook rested unopened on his lap. you recognized it as the one he had earlier, previously held close to his chest as if he were hiding secrets. what could someone as dashing as him be hiding in there, you wonder?

almost as if he were reading your mind, he suddenly opened up the sketchbook, flipping the pages—which revealed beautiful drawings in the split second you saw them—until he landed on a page of a finished sketch, one that you swore looked like you sitting on the train yesterday.

you look up and catch his eye. “is that me?”

“mhm.” he nodded with a soft grin.

his art style was something to be proud of, meant to be showcased in somewhere exquisite like the louvre. could this guy be any more perfect? drop dead gorgeous and talented? to see yourself captured in such a bewitching way was truly the greatest compliment one could ever receive.

the sound of the page ripping away from the binding of the sketchbook startled you. what was he doing? it was so perfect! why mess it all up? you couldn’t help but say something about it.

“what are you—”

“you can have it.” he interrupted you, holding the page in his hands, waiting for you to take it.

“oh…” your cheeks flush as your fingers accidentally grazed over his upon grabbing the sketch. “thank you.”

you almost felt bad holding this in your hands, afraid of ruining it just by the touch of your hand. how could he just let you have this without hesitation? even if this was a drawing of you, it felt like you didn’t deserve to have it.

you examine the drawing down to the details of the clouds behind you. you look for some sort of signature, assuming every artist had one in hopes to find a name. in the bottom corner, you see the name “hyunjin” written in cursive. you had finally put a name to your beautiful stranger.

“hyunjin?” you attempt to pronounce his name. your accent did you no favors, but you tried your best regardless. he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion until you pointed to where his signature was, then receiving a nod confirming that was his name.

“hwang hyunjin.” he said slowly. you repeat his name in full, speaking slower than him to make sure you were saying it correctly as you desperately didn’t want to screw it up. hyunjin, as you’ve now learned, gave you a nod of approval once you’ve won the battle with your accent.

“i’m y/n l/n.” you tell him. it would be awfully rude if he didn’t learn your name, after all. it seemed hyunjin didn’t seem to struggle at all when it came to pronouncing your name. his english was far better than yours, which wasn’t a shock as he seemed to be so insanely perfect in every aspect possible.

“are you an artist?” you ask, making an assumption based on the clues given to you the past two days. if he were anything else, you’d be surprised.

“i sing and dance.” hyunjin replied. you couldn’t believe his perfection could get any greater, but it just did. it would shock you if you learned your once beautiful stranger was a world famous one.

“well, your art is lovely.” you say.

“thank you.” he blushed shyly. to hyunjin, it felt so nice being treated like a normal person, appreciated for his art above all else. while there was no denying you found him to be the most breathtaking person you’d ever seen, there was more beneath the surface, and hyunjin was grateful to be seen for what he loves to do.

“is this your first time in paris?” you question, a chuckle escaping hyunjin’s lips over your pronunciation of your homeland. you were trying to get as much information out of him as possible before you were tortured with reaching your stop and leaving him once more. you had to take this chance while the universe let you have it.

“this is one of my favorite places to visit.” hyunjin said. truth be told, he always loved paris for its scenery and art, but yesterday he found one more reason to love it. is there any other place to love better than a city known all about that?

a visitor’s perspective was certainly different than the perspective of someone who’s lived here their whole life. there were so many reasons to love paris when you didn’t experience the greatest things about it everyday. to you, it was the same old thing. but to hyunjin, it was like a brand new experience each time in the rare event that he visited. but meeting each other allowed the both of you the ability to find something new to appreciate about this city.

“the eiffel tower gets old after a while.” you joke. hyunjin burst into a fit laughter, one more obnoxious than his calm chuckle from before. it infected you instantly, and you craved more of his laugh now that you’ve fully heard it.

hyunjin calmed himself down, letting out a sigh as he leaned his head back with his eyes closed and a grin on his face. he was truly the most beautiful person you had ever seen. “i hope i never get sick of this place.”

“i hope you never do.” you tell him, looking at his face as if he were a sculpture in a museum. “don’t wear it out.”

“i won’t.” he opened his eyes and responded to you, his smile not going away as you gazed into each other’s eyes.

you can’t help but stare at one another, almost like magnets pulling you together. was it normal to feel like this about someone you barely know? even so, it felt like you knew hyunjin before you ever met. such a thought would seem like insanity to someone else, but not to you, at least not in the moment.

your once unwavering stare was unfortunately interrupted by the sudden thrash of the train stopping. you look out the window and recognize it as your stop. if you were crazy enough, you’d stay on the train until they kicked you out, but you weren’t all that brave enough to try your luck. maybe you were better off savoring this moment for what it was; just a moment with a beautiful man who was once a stranger to you.

“ah, that’s my stop.” you say with a frown. hyunjin’s smile from before faded too. it was clear neither of you wanted this to end.

“oh, alright.” he replied. hyunjin watched as you quickly collected your things, not forgetting the drawing he gave you when you first sat next to him. you would cherish it as long as you could, and he could only hope that’s what you’ll do.

“maybe i’ll see you on the stage here someday, yeah?” you force a smile. you were actually sad to see this end, but if you keep a grin on your face, then maybe it’ll hurt a little less.

“yeah…” hyunjin nodded. “i hope you do.”

“bye, hyunjin.” you wave goodbye, hyunjin doing the same.

“thank you for making the train less boring for me.” you get those final words out before following the line of people exiting the train. hyunjin kept his eye on you for as long as he could, even staring out the window as you disappeared into the sea of people. if only he could have went with you.

“bye, y/n.” he said to himself, clutching the sketchbook that once held his masterpiece; a drawing of you, his beautiful stranger.

•••

on the third day, hyunjin was nowhere to be seen. you saw it coming, really. you knew last night was probably your final chance to ever see him again. still, a part of you hoped he’d magically appear on the train when you went to work the next morning.

the thrill you once had was no more. the spark lit aflame in your heart all gone. you weren’t sure if anyone would make you feel the same way hyunjin did. maybe meeting him was a lesson, something to teach you what the city of love was truly about, what you’ve failed at your entire life. at least now you were able to succeed, even if such a success was temporary.

you were thankful that your once black and white world finally had some saturation in it for once. if you were to meet hyunjin once again, no matter what the circumstance may be, the world would be in full bloom. you would look for him in everything you see, down to the bakeries you’ll eat at and sceneries you’d visit, for as long your thoughts echoed his name.

while your routine became repetitive once more, at least you had hyunjin’s image in your brain and his drawing in a picture frame on your shelf. if you were as talented as him, you’d try your hand at drawing him too, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to capture him like your eyes ever did. at least you have the memories.

hyunjin dreaded watching you leave, and he hated it even more when he left for the airport in the morning. he wondered if you thought about where he went, hoping you thought about him like he did now with you. you’d remain ingrained in his mind. whenever hyunjin thought about paris, a place he loved just as much as his hometown, he would think about you too.

he couldn’t explain this sadness inside him to anyone else. hyunjin couldn’t fathom anybody understanding the feeling of love at first sight like he did. a true romantic at heart, maybe you were the only one to be just as foolish as him when it came to romance. after all, you were instantly captivated by one another.

maybe, just maybe, hyunjin could write a song about this and sing it to the thousands of people he performed for like clockwork. but no matter what the days ahead held, hwang hyunjin, your beautiful stranger, was all that he would ever remain, and you would remain as his.

•••

(bonus)

@hynjinnnn: 파리에 있는 동안 기차에서 이 사람의 모습에 반해 그려보기로 결심했습니다. 나는 그들이 그것을 좋아했기를 바랍니다. 언젠가 다시 보고 싶습니다.

i was enthralled by this person on the train while in paris and decided to draw them. i hope they liked it. i'd love to see them again someday.

#stray kids #skz #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #pluto writes 📝

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thesirencult · 8 months

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WHY INVESTING IN YOURSELF WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE

"The best thing you can do is to be exceptionally good at something," said Buffett. He added, "Whatever abilities you have can't be taken away from you. They can't actually be inflated away from you. ... So the best investment by far is anything that develops yourself, and it's not taxed at all."

- Warren Buffet

There is a reason people call Mr. Buffet the "Oracle/Sage Of Omaha".

Not only he is great at asset management and making the right predictions when it comes to the financial markets, but he is also very wise and offers great advice.

Investing in your own self is the only type of investment you can make that is absolutely safe and guaranteed to give you a return on investment that would satisfy you.

Knowledge is fuel. You are the vehicle.

We are living in times of abundance. Knowledge and data curation is the hottest skill someone can learn right now. That's what AI models like ChatGPT do. They curate useful data from trash. That's what you should also do with your mind. Throw out what's hindering your growth and feed your brain with nutritious food for thought.

We are nearing the "Age Of Abundance", the Golden Saturnian Age of our times. Don't fall into oblivion.

The resources are within a finger's reach. You are actually holding the most precious asset in your hands right now, that's how I reached you.

Whoever takes advantage of this situation will succeed.

Read books, articles, essays. Watch videos and documentaries. Educate yourself for free. If you have the ability to get a university degree for free, do it ! Don't fall in the trap of "degrees are useless". Instead choose to educate yourself in subjects that interest you and make you even more savvy. Invest in evergreen skills. Learn content creation, marketing and money management. Study philosophy to learn the art of critical thinking.

In the next 10 years we will all transform from 9 to 5 slaves to freelancers and one-person businesses. This is where we are headed. Notice all the lay-offs and how artificial intelligence has taken the world by storm.

Be proactive.

#finance #level up journey #leveling up #leverage #level up #investment #essay #source:thesirencult #hypergamyblr #seduction #tarot reading #ai #business #entreprenuership

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justalonelyslytherin · 2 years

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Secret Family Recipe - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female Reader

Summary: Just married, Jake's mother deems her new daughter-in-law ready to learn the families secret and special recipes. All. Jake has other some more slightly different plans.

Warnings: fluff. Slightly suggestive at the end - use of an innuendo - but otherwise pg

Wordcount: 1.3k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

A/N: This is part of @flufftober's Flufftober 2022 as well as my 300 Follower Celebration. Divider's are by the lovely @/firefly-graphics

When she had met and consequently fallen in love with Jake Seresin she hadn’t expected to also fall in love with the way he loved his family, even less so with his family themselves. From the moment he had introduced her to them though, the deal had been sealed. They had welcomed her with open arms, not hesitating to make her part of the family even before Jake had officially done so.

“Now that you are a proper Seresin it’s time to introduce you to all our family recipes.” Jake's mother was excited for all she could tell. The woman had wasted no time to seize her chance and drag her into the kitchen while commandeering her son to go help on the ranch outside.

Now they were here in the huge country kitchen that the Seresin ranch had. It was the dream of every baker and cook. The kitchen island in the middle was littered with assortments of bakeware and ingredients of all sorts. It was an overwhelming amount of things she recognized and things she had no clue about.

First things first, however, they had turned towards the cups and big tea selection Mrs. Seresin curated. Standing beside her mother-in-law she nestled a big cup of steaming tea in her hands, while Jake’s mother stirred her own cup.

“All of them?” she asked as Mrs. Seresin took a sip of her cup. Before the older woman could answer her, they were disturbed. In walked Ellie - Jake’s younger sister - causing both women to look her way.

“Jeez, mum, are we doing disaster prepping now, or are you trying to feed the entire Navy?” Ellie joked upon seeing the huge amount of things littering the workspace.

Jake’s mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “No. But it’s time to pass down the family recipes to your new sister-in-law.”

Loudly gasping, Ellie turned towards her. “Really?” she asked excitedly, running over to her and bouncing back and forth on her feet. Smiling, she nodded at Ellie and asked, “Do you want to help too?” Ellie started to beam even brighter and nodded her head enthusiastically.

“Yes!” She squealed and raced to the sink to wash her hands, “Where are we starting?” But before Mrs. Seresin could answer Ellie gasped loudly once more and turned back around to eye her up and down.

“You aren’t pregnant are you?”

The question made her splutter and choke on the sip of tea she took. The droplets of sweet tea had made it down the wrong pipe and had her cough violently as she shook her head. Mrs. Seresin patted her on the back continuously.

“No!”, she managed to squeeze out in between the coughs and when the coughing had settled down she added, “Not yet. What makes you think that?” The surprise in her voice was clear.

Jake and she had just gotten married. In fact, they had just returned from their honeymoon, spending now the last of his military leave with his family before they would fly back to where he was stationed. They wanted kids, that was no question and no secret either. But they hadn’t made any plans yet.

Ellie shrugged her shoulders, the disappointed look on her face unconcealed, “Well mum said it’s time for all of them. But going through every recipe at once seems rushed.”

“Ellie!” Jake’s mother scolded, looking rather bashful. “I am simply excited to pass along the recipes to another daughter. She is my only daughter-in-law.”

“Who says that? What if I decide to marry a woman later on?” Ellie’s quip made her mother roll her eyes.

“Fine. She is my only daughter-in-law for now.” With that, Ellie grinned triumphantly and nodded. Satisfied she turned back towards the many ingredients.

“So where do we start?” Y/N asked, eyeing all the things on the table.

In unison both Seresin women answered, “Pie,” to which Mama Seresin added: “Pumpkin pie. I just harvested these from the garden.”

Thus they started making the dough and the filling. Jake’s mother taught her all the little tricks and tips that made the recipe so special. That made the recipe a Seresin recipe.

The first pumpkin pie was already in the oven, slowly baking and browning. The sweet fragrance of the baked good slowly spread throughout the kitchen when they heard the front door open just before the shuffling of someone removing their shoes. Just after Jake came waltzing into the kitchen barefoot. He grinned like a Cheshire cat at the look of the three women standing there together.

“Heya cowboy,” She greeted her husband - still getting used to the term - and smiled brightly up at him from the bowl she was mixing another batch of filling. Jake eyed her up and down before walking over.

He was just about to dip his pinky into the bowl when he was whacked with a wooden spoon by his mother. “Jacob Seresin you wash your filthy paws before you touch anything in my kitchen or so god will!”

Holding up his hands in defense and snickering quietly Jake obliqued. He trudged over to the sink to wash his hands with plenty of soap to get the dirt left from the work outside off of his fingers. Once he was down he came back over to her, to wrap his arms around his wife. Y/N shuddered as her shirt got soaked. Of course, he didn’t dry his hands, the cheeky little ass he was. With a groan, she elbowed him.

“Jake!” Her scolding didn’t impress him the slightest, he only chuckled into her ear and leaned his head on her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and squeezing her waist.

“Baking,” she answered with pursed lips causing him to rumble behind her - he could obviously see and smell that. His innocent kiss to her neck quickly turned less innocent as his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. Goosebumps spread over her body, she nearly dropped the spoon she was holding from the sensation too. When he went so far as to even lightly bite her there, she shuddered against him, once more jabbing him with her elbow. He didn’t care. Of course, he didn’t.

“I can see that, sweets. But what are you baking?”

“Pumpkin pie.”

Jake behind her hummed, “Delicious,” he whispered. The way he said it she wasn’t sure if he meant the pie or her.

Ellie groaned and shot a murderous glare towards her brother, “Shut up or I’ll dunk the bowl of pumpkin seeds on your head, Jake.”

Jake laughed once more, “You wouldn’t dare sully mum’s kitchen like that.” Ellie rolled her eyes and grumbled. He was right. Their mother would have a heart attack having pumpkin innards and seeds strewn through her kitchen.

Once Ellie had turned back to focus on her own task, Jake turned his attention back to his wife. He pressed himself against her back and rolled his hips against her behind. Lowly he murmured into her ear, “Want to sully somethin’ else later? I got some better seeds.”

His words made her feel like she was on fire. Heat crept up her neck and encompassed her cheeks and ears. Gasping, she faltered in her movement, nearly dropping the spoon in her hand into the bowl.

“Jake,” she whined quietly, huffing about his unfairness. How could he say this right now, in front of his family, and expect her to stay calm?

“Wouldn’t you like it if we had our own little pumpkin by next year?” His hands crept around her middle, one sliding under her shirt to rub against her belly. “I’d certainly enjoy seeing you as round as one.”

#sly's 300 #flufftober2022 #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x wife!reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin imagine #hangman x reader

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