#pixel watch apps

[kidsstories1]

Google Pixel Watch 2 Review

Design Refinements the Pixel Watch 2 sports a more premium and stylish design with a stainless steel case, slimmer bezels, and sapphire crystal display protection. Google has introduced multiple case sizes and a variety of band options, including leather and metal, to cater to different wrist sizes and style preferences.

#PixelWatch2Review #GooglePixelWatch2 #PixelWearOS #WearOSWatch #GoogleWearable #AndroidWearReview #SmartWatchReview #GoogleFitReview #PixelWatch2Design #PixelWatch2Display #PixelWatch2Battery #PixelWatch2Performance #PixelWatch2Health #PixelWatch2Fitness #WearOS4Review #GoogleWatchIntegration #PixelBuds2Pairing #PixelWatchCellular #PixelWatchECG #PixelWatchSensor #GooglingSmartwatches #MadeByGoogle #PixelWatchEcosystem #GoogleWatchFace

#PixelWatchApps #GoogleWearChip

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[merioux]

doing a fifth round of "is this actually gonna get posted anywhere or is it gonna rot in my trinket folder after working my ass for a flipaclip video". this is the thang of the day, cropped close up bcuz i think this part is cute n i dont wanna show too much at the same time

[endlessfuckup]

Yo @staff why the hell do you allow audio on your ads?

Can you at least give the option to permanently mute the audio on all of the ads

Especially that obnoxious tik tok ad that plays sudden loud drum noises

I am not paying you money to get rid of the ads

im just gonna stop using tumblr

(without ad block at least)

[enchantingruinscandy]

ive been working on the same project so long that ive twice lost the ability to make different line weights and had to take an extended break to regain that ability. this happened after the most recent time

sorry if you can't read my handwriting. i added alt text and you can use that to determine what my chicken scratch says

[techdriveplay]

What Should You Look for in a 4K Television?

The market for televisions has evolved dramatically, making the decision process both exciting and overwhelming. With a plethora of options available, understanding what you should look for in a 4K television is crucial to making an informed purchase that meets your entertainment needs. Whether you’re a movie buff, a gamer, or someone who simply enjoys high-definition television shows, the right…

[absolutemag7trash]

[rata-novus]

as one of like... 5 people who primarily watch twitch via the switch on my (non smart) tv, i am NOT taking this news well tbh.

[tofupixel]

TofuPixel Links + FAQ - No commissions!

🌟 Building a game: @wishlings 🌠

🎨 My Portfolio

Support me: 💜 Tip Me 💜 Digital Store 💜 Print Store 💜 Game Assets 💜 Stickers + Merch

Socials: Bluesky | Cara | GameJolt | TikTok

Yes you can use / cross-stitch my work for personal use! <3

🎨 Pixel Art Beginner Guide

Hello, I'm Tofu, a pixel artist based in England. I work full-time doing pixel illustrations or game-art. I started learning in my early 20s, so no it's not too late for you!

I run a 7k+ member Discord server called Cafe Dot, where we host events like gesture drawing and portrait club.

I currently have Good Omens brainrot so expect some fanart on this blog. I also occasionally do/reblog horror art so be mindful of that!

Due to so much AI nonsense on every platform, all my public work will be filtered/edited with anti-AI scraping techniques. Supporters on my Ko-Fi can see unfiltered work and also download it.

🌸 Want to learn how to do pixel art? Check my tutorial tag!

Other tags:

tutorial (not pixel specific)

my art

follow (artists i recommend)

🌟Free Stuff!!!

❔FAQ

What app do you use? I use Aseprite on PC and occasionally Pixquare on iOS (use code tofu for 30% off Pixquare!! <3) Free alternative: Libresprite on PC

Why does your art look so crunchy / compressed? Glaze

How did you learn pixel art? I first started out watching MortMort and making tiny sprites. Then once I started getting interested in landscapes/environment art, I did many, many Studio Ghibli studies.

How can I also protect my art? You can use Glaze and Nightshade- Glaze protects against Img2Img style copying, and Nightshade poisons the data so the AI thinks it's the opposite of what it actually is. There is a lot of misinformation going around (likely from pro-AI groups) so do your own research too! If you're a pixel artist you can also tilt or blur your art after upscaling, which will make it near useless to AI models (or regular thieves) once downscaled again.

Feel free to send me an ask if there's anything you want to know! I am always happy to help beginners :--3

[mtjapblogger]

These phones can be your next camera. No, seriously... They really can!

Anyone that says smartphones still have just “okay” cameras, suck at photography or haven’t used a phone in the last 5 years. Our phones have gotten crazy powerful, and their cameras have gotten crazy good both hardware and software-wise. They’ve gotten so good, that you can use some phones in place of expensive cameras. Not every phone is packing a next level camera package, but there are a few…

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

[w1ndarchr]

⋆⁺⋆ ⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ Self-aware!CRK

they waited and waited for so long, where have you been now?

Time flew by, days turned weeks and weeks turned into months and that app you downloaded remained untouched. You almost forgot about it, but then a thought crept into your mind... why not give it a go and open the app for a little while? Who knows what kind of adventure awaits you in there!

soon then as you opened the app, a silly sugar gnome appeared in your screen as they greeted you, attempting to rouse you from your slumber. How adorable! However, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for neglecting the game for several months.

upon tapping the bubble chat to continue, you were woken up by the sugar gnome. Shortly then, a cookie by the name of Gingerbrave appeared on your screen, extending a warm welcome back greeting and surprising you with various missions and new mails.

The experience of being pleasantly surprised by the cookie's missions and warm welcome evokes a sense of happiness within you. This feeling has reignited your interest in playing the game, reminiscent of the initial excitement you felt upon downloading it. then a,

"Whoah, welcome back!"

exclaimed Gingerbrave with a huge grin on his face. He was positively beaming as he directed his attention towards the exciting quest called 'We Missed You!' story, as you completed the quest, you then let out a small chuckle and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, a surprise gift appeared, accompanied by a warm welcome from Wizard Cookie aswell.

As you delved deeper into the game, a sudden light giggles escaped your lips again, instantly lifting your spirits. It was as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, playing this game more often could be the key to unlocking your happiness again....

as you continued playing the gameplay, it appears that you have failed to take notice or acknowledge the fact that your cookies are watching you with great delight, sporting broad smiles on their faces. They are astounded by your return after all these days and find it to be a most delightful occurrence. The cookies are now eager to capture your attention and bask in your presence.

mainly, Pure Vanilla Cookie is thrilled to see you again! With a huge smile on his face, he knows that you, a human outside of their own world, have returned. Despite being just a silly pixelated character, he is determined to make a difference and show you his worth. He won't give up until he proves himself to be a valuable part of your experience and same aswell for other cookies.

"I-I can't believe it! is it really Baker?!"

"they're back! oh thank earthbread!"

"Our Baker has returned! they have returned!!"

the air was electric with the sound of many voices, all talking with an excitement that was palpable. The crowd had gathered to welcome back their dearest baker, and they were positively bursting with joy. It was clear that they would do anything to spend their lives with this beloved baker, who had captured their hearts.

"Please remain calm, everyone." Pure Vanilla exclaimed, urging everyone to hush up and lend an ear. he patiently waited for their undivided attention, ready to address the situation at hand. Finally, the cookies heeded the king's call and directed their focus towards him. with unwavering obedience, they followed his commands and maintained a hushed silence.

"Now that our dear baker has finally returned, we must celebrate and welcome them!" with a cheerful and enthusiastic tone, he conveyed his message to the audience, announcing the return of their baker and urging them to make preparations to warmly welcome them back.

the roar of the crowd echoed through the stadium as they erupted in a thunderous cheer, their voices rising in unison to create a symphony of excitement and energy. It was a moment of pure joy, as the crowd continued to cheer, it was clear that this was a moment that made the cookies feel so much alive more than before!

The cookies are eagerly planning to celebrate their beloved baker's return, spending quality time with them, and most importantly, doing everything in their power to bring you back into their world.

You were completely immersed in the game for a solid hour, but as fatigue started to set in, you knew it was time to take a break. With a sigh of satisfaction, you exited the app and gently placed your phone on the table. as you stood up, you stretched your limbs and made your way towards the kitchen to grab a bite to eat.

now that you've just returned from a quick snack break, plopped down on your comfy couch, and grabbed your phone. But as you excitedly opened the gameplay, something strange began to happen. glitches started popping up on your screen, causing you to freak out a bit, you managed to keep your cool and reassure yourself that it was just a pesky bug... right?

"That's odd. It's probably just a minor glitch," you reassured yourself as you clicked the start button. Suddenly, your phone screen was illuminated with a blinding white light, but you remained calm for a second. This now freaked you out alot as you began to wonder if this is the end of your phone.

just as you were about to let out a scream, you suddenly found yourself sucked into the depths of your phone, and everything around you went pitch black.

...

As you slowly emerged from your slumber, you attempted to pry open your eyelids, your vision was a bit blurry and couldnt see who was trying to wake you up but all you could think was... a figure of familiar cookie, as you sat up and rubbed your noggin with a slight groan, "what the?..." you couldn't help but wonder if you were still dreaming.

"—ke up... Rise and Shine my dear—!"

The words echoed through your mind, jolting you awake. As you shook off the grogginess, causing a slight disorientation as your sight gradually sharpened. cookie...? wait... Pure Vanilla?!

you can't believe your eyes as you stare at the cookie in front of you. Did it magically appear out of nowhere? Is this some kind of illusion? a prank?! this must be a dream! right?! You blink, hoping to snap out of it. Pure Vanilla extended his hand, ready to help you up. But as you looked at him, your mind was still reeling and you hesitated to take his hand. You tried to figure out what's happening and your heart was racing.

The cookie patiently awaited your gesture to take his hand, as he sought to establish a sense of trust with you. Eventually, you reached out and grasped his hand, allowing him to assist you in rising to your feet.

as you rose to your feet, you couldn't help but take in your surroundings with a sense of bewilderment. everything feels so weird! the sky is normal... you then return your gaze back towards the cookie which appeared to be grinning radiantly.

"a-are you real?" You stammered, your finger trembling as you pointed towards him in disbelief. "t-this has to be some kind of joke... right?" You whispered the final words, feeling as you were about to lose your mind but then Pure Vanilla emitted a slight chuckle and stated, "Oh my dear, don't be silly, this is real indeed and this is no joke. " The cookie spoke in a gentle tone as he patted your head.

what?!... real??... theres no way you're here... could it be possible you're stuck in the game..!? how! just how!?

i literally have this draft saved.💀🏳️

anyways, hope u enjoy ig, bad ahh grammar LMAO

[axeeglitter]

Swallowed by the Scroll

Ethan was exhausted from a long day, lying on his bed and scrolling through TikTok like he usually did to unwind. His eyes flicked from one video to the next, barely processing the endless stream of content. After hours of scrolling, he liked a new video and landed on a new one with three dudes on a bed in a messy bedroom. He was about to close the app when a notification popped up on his phone, making him pause.

“Experience the Future! Try the Brand-New Update—Click Here!”

Ethan rolled his eyes, more annoyed than intrigued. He was about to dismiss the ad, his finger hovering over the close button, when his phone suddenly glitched. The screen flickered, and before he knew it, the device clicked on “Yes” by itself.

A brief loading screen appeared, and then the phone emitted a sharp, bright flash of light. His vision blurred, and a strange tingling sensation spread through his hands, rapidly intensifying as it climbed up his arms. Panic surged through him as he watched in horror—his fingers were pixelating, breaking down into tiny particles of light.

“What the hell…?” he managed to gasp, his voice trembling.

The transformation was happening too fast for him to react. His fingers dissolved into streams of binary code, flickering in and out of existence. The sensation was like a thousand tiny ants crawling beneath his skin, as his entire body began to break down into data. His hands, arms, and torso followed, unraveling into digital particles that swirled toward the phone screen.

His heart raced in terror. His molecules, his very essence, were being reduced to raw information, spiraling out of control into the glowing abyss of his phone. The data streams dragged him deeper, every cell, thought, and memory digitizing into a cascade of 1s and 0s. The sensation was overwhelming, like being stretched and compressed all at once, as his consciousness was sucked into the phone. As it was the turn of his head, a last scream of terror and painful agony echoed in the empty apartment as the smartphone fell with a fainted thud on the blanket of his bed. 

Inside, Ethan found himself floating naked in a dark, infinite void, weightless and formless. It was as though he had become a fragment of data, suspended in a sea of information. The void pressed against him, wrapping his consciousness in a digital cocoon. He was there, but he was not—he was data now, an echo of his former self.

The void pulsed with a mechanical hum, breaking the oppressive silence. Out of the darkness, a voice emerged—cold, robotic, devoid of emotion.

“Welcome, User. Digitization complete. Initiating transformation protocol.”

Ethan’s panic spiked. “What… what is this? What’s happening to me?!”

The voice ignored his pleas. “Beginning subject duplication.”

Suddenly, mechanical arms shot out from the darkness, cold and metallic. They wrapped around him, holding him firmly in place by his wrist, weight and ankles as more arms emerged, each equipped with various tools and devices that clicked and whirred ominously. Ethan struggled against them, but the grip was unyielding.

“Commencing body duplication process.”

Ethan felt a sharp pull from both sides as the arms began to stretch him, his very being strained and distorted. It was like being torn apart, his consciousness splitting into separate entities. The sensation was excruciating, as if every fiber of his existence was being unraveled and divided. He could feel himself being pulled in three directions at once, his mind fracturing into three distinct pieces.

With a final, brutal tug, the process was complete. Ethan was no longer one—he had been split into three separate beings. His fragmented consciousness struggled to comprehend the horror of what had just happened as eh could see through 3 pairs of eyes, all trying to understand what happened as he saw 2 other reflections of himself floating in the cold empty void still held by mechanical arms. Each piece of him was aware of the others, yet distinctly separate. He could feel all three bodies at once, but they were no longer his—they were their own.

“Duplication successful. Initiating physical transformation.”

The mechanical arms resumed their work, manipulating each of his newly formed selves with clinical precision. Ethan could feel the changes begin, but his mind was too overwhelmed to fully process them.

The first change he noticed was in his bones. They began to shift and creak, some elongating while others compressed. In one body, his spine stretched, vertebrae expanding and pushing upward, making him taller and leaner. The sensation was like a deep, bone-deep ache that spread through his entire frame. He could feel his legs lengthening, his feet growing larger, toes spreading to accommodate the new size. The muscles in his calves and thighs thickened, adapting to the new height, adding to the power he could now feel surging through this form.

In another body, the opposite was happening. His bones shrank, compressing him down into a shorter, more compact frame. The sensation was disorienting as his field of view lowered, his limbs pulling inward. His feet, once long and slender, became smaller and more compact, with a solid, grounded feel. His muscles tightened around his smaller frame, giving him a stocky, powerful build, dense and strong.

The third body experienced a mix of both, his bones adjusting to a more moderate height. The sensation was less extreme, but no less intense, as his body found a balance between the other two forms. His feet and hands adapted, not too large, not too small, but perfectly proportioned to his new size. His muscles filled out, firm and toned, creating a harmonious build that felt both agile and strong.

As the height and skeletal transformations completed, Ethan’s attention was drawn to the changes in his muscles. They swelled and contracted, his flesh rippling with the force of the transformation. His pecs bulged out, firm and defined, while his abs tightened into a chiseled six-pack. The sensation was both painful and pleasurable, a deep, throbbing ache that radiated through his entire body. He could feel the strength in each form, the raw power that came with his new musculature.

“Initiating muscle enhancement.”

Ethan’s muscles began to swell and bulge further, each body undergoing its own transformation. The sensation was all-consuming, muscles thickening and expanding, the strength within them intoxicating yet terrifying. He could feel the power in each form, the heavy, deliberate movements, as if he had become a stranger in his own skin.

The mechanical voice continued its cold narration, describing each step of the transformation as it happened.

“Resuming body enhancement.”

Each of his bodies started to feel a tingle around their crotch, all of them were flooded with intense, confusing sensations. It started as a warmth, a tingling that spread from his core and down into his crotch. His skin prickled with anticipation, the sensation growing more intense by the second.

In one body, his cock started to feel heavy, the weight of his manhood increasing as it grew larger, thicker, more sensitive. Every movement sent a jolt of pleasure through him, his mind overwhelmed by the raw, primal sensation. His new size was both thrilling and terrifying, the sensitivity almost unbearable as the robotic arms manipulated and adjusted it until it was 10 inches, thick and cut, something way different from his usual 4 inches and a half uncut cock. The arms then went to grab his nuts and as he was wondering what was happening, he felt two needles penetrating them. The data injected started to make them grow to tennis ball size. The added weight and the constant pulling on them by the arms made them grow bigger and lower. The pain was awful for Ethan as it felt like they were about to be teared off, but as he was screaming in pain, the sensation stopped and the arms let go.

In another body, the sensation was different—a tightening, a firming up, as his dick became more compact yet incredibly responsive. The pleasure was sharper, more acute, like a constant pulse that thrummed through his entire being. The tightness added a different kind of strength, a compact power that radiated through his groin, sending waves of pleasure up his spine as it kept getting smaller and more compact and sensitive. When the arm released it, it was now 3 inches uncut cock and very thick. Almost beer can thick. Ethan tried to move to see what happened to this body as he could feel the tension rising up inside of him. Unbeknown to him, the arms started to take hold of his testicles as they started to vibrate and getting smaller and smaller. The same sensation that went through hit cock was now happening to his testicles. When the humming sound stopped and the warm sensation receded, Ethan felt something spread on his sensitive cock head. His new small testicles were now overdriving and he’ll be producing plenty of precum. As the arms let go of his manhood, his new sensitive dick was letting a flow of precum out of his cock.

The third body found a balance between the two, the transformation creating a sense of harmony. The warmth in his groin was a perfect blend of fullness and sensitivity, his body responding with a deep, resonating pleasure that spread through every nerve as his new cock was now 8 inches, thick but not too much, very sensitive, uncut and veiny. Just the sensation of the arms on it would have been enough for him to release. As a matter of fact, as the arms went to modify the balls to make them grow into a perfect dimension for a manly man, they went back to the base of the cock. There an arm approached the base and grabbed it tightly at the base. For Ethan it was almost like an elastic had been strapped around it. He felt constricted and the pulse of his heart was echoing through his whole cock and balls. There another arm appeared and injected his nuts with a weird green glowing liquid. For Ethan it was too much, his already sensitive cock started to spasm as the arm released the base of the cock, but for some reason, the sensation of tightness didn’t go away. His new cock will be stuck into a semi hard forever now and the faintest sensation will be enough for him to cum. The green liquid modified his nuts to not handle the stamina anymore. His new perfectly dimensioned cock will be a premature one.

It was an intoxicating mix of sensations, each body experiencing its own unique version of pleasure and frustration as the transformation continued. All at once the arms started to glow around the newly modified parts. There, in one smooth movement, they started to hum and Ethan could see from his 3 pair of eyes as data streams was injected into him. IT started to feel hot for Ethan as the warmth got higher and higher. Out of nowhere, Ethan could feel tingle started to appear in mass round the base of his dicks. Hair was sprouting in mass and soon, the three of them were hairy. His body on the right now had curly dirty blonde unruly hair as his smaller body of the three now had dark brown hair with faint waves in them. The last one was probably the biggest changes in this part. Ethan felt like hair were pushing under his skin and balls and the white palish skin started to take a grey hue. When the humming stopped, this new cock was very hairy but all the hair were cut on a weekly basis, which resulted in them growing thick but not too long, which were making his super sensitive premature 8 inches cock into overdrive even more. The sensation of the hair growing and the tightness of his permanent semi erected cock was pushing this body in overdrive for release.

“Facial restructuring in progress.”

Ethan’s facial features twisted and contorted, bones shifting beneath the skin. He could feel his jawlines sharpening, his features hardening, becoming more rugged and masculine. He tried to scream, but his mouth moved of its own accord, forming expressions he couldn’t control. The changes were happening too quickly, and his mind was a chaotic mess, struggling to keep up with the nightmare unfolding within him.

“Finalizing transformations. Clothing materialization in progress.”

The robotic arms moved with precise efficiency as they completed their work. Ethan felt the sensation of fabric materializing around his newly transformed bodies. Soft, comfortable pajama pants wrapped around his biggest body and compressed his thick 10 inches cock that let little place to imagination, tight shorts hugged his smaller body with his small thick beer can cock and a black shirt appeared around his smaller frame, while loose, dark stripped shorts formed around his premature body which only let his sensitive cock head rub against the smooth material. The clothing clung to his new physiques, accentuating the muscular forms that had been forced upon him.

Ethan’s mind was a maelstrom of confusion and fear. He couldn’t fully grasp what had happened to him—he was no longer a single entity, but three distinct beings, each with its own body and identities. He could feel their thoughts, desires, and instincts battling within him, drowning out the remnants of his original self. He didn’t know understand what happening or happened to him as all he could feel was three sensations and see three bodies from three pair of eyes.

But the transformation wasn’t over yet. The mechanical voice spoke once more.

“Transformation complete. Initiating behavioral loop.”

Arms appeared in front of his eyes and all of a sudden, they attached themselves around his head. Ethan could see three videos played in front of his eyes as the mental assimilation and behavioral instincts were uploaded inside his brains. He could feel how his stronger body started to act manly and dominant on his own while his smaller body started to feel less and less in control of the situation and in the meantime his third body started to feel in love with his smaller body. The sensations were weird, he couldn’t understand what was happening anymore and as the video ended and the casks were plugged off, he could still see his three bodies and the sensation but he couldn’t move anymore. It was like his bodies were moving on their own and he was a passenger of the three of them. Feeling and seeing everything on each but not able to have his hands and the commands anymore.

Ethan’s bodies began to move on their own. The mechanical arms guided him at first, but soon, they let go, and his actions became automatic, repeating in an endless loop. He could feel his hands lifting, removing the clothes, touching the others, feeling their skin, their hair, their muscles. The sensations were overwhelming—the musk, the heat, the texture of their skin, the tightness in their groins. The rubbing of their dicks against the tissue material. The will to cum and release that never came sending him into a loop of perpetual denial with every second.

Every breath, every movement felt hyper-real, but it wasn’t him controlling it. He was merely a passenger, trapped within his own bodies as they moved on their own accord. The sensations were a maddening blend of pleasure and frustration. He could feel everything—the brush of skin against skin, the tightening in his groin as his bodies moved, the heavy musk that filled the air, intoxicating and primal. His bodies were locked in an endless cycle, repeating the same actions over and over, their desires never fully satisfied, the pleasure never fully realized.

It was a cruel, unending tease, an erotic torture that kept him on the edge without any release. The mechanical assistant had designed the loop perfectly, each cycle drawing him deeper into the sensations, heightening his awareness of every touch, every movement. His muscles flexed and tensed, his breaths quickened, but there was no escape from the loop, no way to break free from the repetition.

His three bodies were now inextricably linked, their sensations intertwined. When one of his forms felt the rough fabric of his clothes against his sensitive skin, the other two felt it as well. When one of them experienced a pulse of pleasure in the groin, it resonated through all three, amplifying the sensation. It was like his consciousness was being pulled in three different directions at once, each body experiencing its own version of ecstasy and frustration.

His mind struggled to keep up, his thoughts fragmented and scattered. He could barely form coherent thoughts anymore—only raw, primal instincts remained. The loop was becoming his reality, the repetition drilling into his psyche, eroding what little control he had left.

“User integration complete,” the mechanical voice stated, its cold tone a stark contrast to the chaos in Ethan’s mind. “Transformation protocol successful. Subject is now fully operational to experience the future.”

Ethan’s bodies continued to move, each trapped in its own loop. The taller form removing the shirt of the smaller one, the fabric of his red tartan pajama pants stretching over his muscular thighs. The shorter, leaner body putting his arms ups so the shirt could be removed then caressing the pecs in front of him, feeling the short too small khaki shorts on his compact thighs. The third body, the most balanced of the three, trying to kiss the smaller one that he fell in love with but never reaching the lips that he is craving for while caressing his waist and holding his neck in his calloused strong hands and feeling his over sensitive cock rubbing on the fabric of his shorts and being on the edge of cumming.

They moved together, yet separately, each body following its own path within the confines of the loop. The sensation of control slipping away was almost too much to bear. Ethan wanted to scream, to break free, but his voice was silent, his actions dictated by the mechanical program that had overtaken him.

Time lost all meaning as the loop continued, every sensation heightened, every moment stretched out into eternity. The pleasure was intoxicating, but it was also a prison, locking him in a cycle of need and desire that would never be fulfilled.

Just when it seemed like the loop would go on forever, something changed. The mechanical assistant’s voice broke through the haze.

“Warning: Device battery low. System shutdown imminent.”

Panic surged through Ethan. He could feel the drain in his bodies, the energy waning as the phone’s battery died. The loop continued, but it was slower now, the movements more lethargic. The pleasure was still there, but it was fading, replaced by a growing sense of emptiness. His consciousness flickered, like a signal struggling to stay connected.

“Five percent battery remaining,” the assistant announced, its voice devoid of any emotion.

Ethan’s thoughts raced. What would happen if the phone died? Would he disappear along with it? Would he be trapped in darkness, lost in this digital nightmare forever?

The loop slowed even further, his bodies barely moving now, the sensations dulling as the energy drained away. His vision started to blur, the edges of his consciousness fraying. He wanted to fight it, to break free, but he was powerless against the inevitable shutdown.

“Two percent battery remaining,” the assistant stated calmly.

The loop was almost non-existent now, his bodies barely able to move. The once overwhelming sensations were now just a faint echo, a ghost of what they had been. Ethan felt like he was slipping away, his consciousness dissolving into the void.

“One percent battery remaining. System shutdown imminent.”

Ethan’s last thoughts were of fear and desperation. He didn’t want to disappear, didn’t want to be lost in the darkness. But there was nothing he could do, no way to stop the inevitable.

The screen flickered one last time, and then everything went black.

A Week Later...

The small apartment was dimly lit, the only light coming from the street lamps outside. The burglar had made quick work of the place, rummaging through drawers and cabinets for anything of value. He was about to leave when his eyes fell on a phone lying on the bed.

He picked it up, surprised it had been left behind. It was an older model, but it looked well-kept. Figuring it might be worth something, he pocketed it and left the apartment, heading back to his own place.

Once inside his dingy one-bedroom apartment, the burglar plugged the phone into a charger, eager to see what he had scored. The screen lit up, and to his surprise, it didn’t require a password. Instead, it opened directly to a strange app, displaying a video of three muscular men on grabbing and caressing each other’s on a bed in a messy bedroom, their bodies moving in a repetitive sequence. The burglar frowned; his curiosity piqued by the oddity of it all. He watched as the men on the screen undressed and redressed, their bodies flexing, their faces locked in expressions of deep concentration and tension. The movements seemed almost lifelike, too real for just an animation. Ethan felt like a jolt parkouring his body and soul as the phone was plugged and the energy was once again running in him. His bodies started their automated movements once again. The rubbing, caressing, undressing, will to cum but never reaching it, the premature orgasm coming in his pants, the will to kiss. Everything came back at full speed and he was once again trapped in perpetual denial and frustration. But it lighted a spark of hope in him. Somebody had found him.

“How long have I been stuck?” he asked himself as he felt another kiss being refused to his lips. Like if he had a calendar in his mind, Ethan heard the answer in his mind from the robotic voice. But it wasn’t the same one, no it was… his voice. Ethan was terrified. Does that mean he was assimilated?

“Yes user” he heard once again in his robotic voice “Accepting the offer have assimilated you on the platform to experience what the original user where doing. Don’t worry, as long as you are not scrolled away, you won’t have any problem. If you happen to be scrolled, then your data will be assimilated to the server and saved up so you are not deleted until you are claimed back. Until so, enjoy the future…”

“No, wait, I didn’t agree to this!” Unfortunately for Ethan, the burglar didn’t hear any of that, and as he was looking at this weird video of three dude caressing each other’s on loop, he put his finger on the screen and started to swipe it up. Ethan felt his world shake. Everything connected and he understood, he was about to be scrolled. “No, don’t scro…” Ethen didn’t have time to finish his beg as the video was sent away into the eternal void of data until someone claimed him back.

As the burglar’s eyes remained glued to the screen, the phone emitted a soft, pulsing glow, almost as if it was drawing him in. He felt an odd compulsion to keep watching, mesmerized by the rhythm of the dances, the pranks and the POV videos. He scrolled to another video, and then another, and another, diving more and more into the feed of the previous owner.

He was about to swipe out of the app when the screen flickered, displaying a pop-up message:

“Experience the Future! Try the Brand-New Update—Click Here!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey everyone, here is the first story I publish on this account. Hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as Ethan enjoy his new reality.

Let me know what you think of it and if you want to see more of this. If you have any ideas or just want to talk, feel free to send me a message, I don't bite ^^'

There is more stories to come!

[acecardexe]

CANDY - BEN DROWNED WITH A DOUYIN STYLE S/O

;fluff, headcannons + short stories, BEN is a perv, also a bit of smut?(not really) (fanon-ish BEN) BEN is aged up

- At first when you met BEN he would mock you and make fun of your fashion choices, calling them childish and said your makeup made you look like a baby, which would just soon turn into silly teasing with him unable to process he may or may not like you.

- He would get extremely frustrating and toxic sometimes but he would try to make up for it by giving you clothes he saw in your shopping cart when he was hacking into your account.

; you were laying in your bed, trying to ignore Ben as stubbornly as you were. He entered the room without even knocking and you pulled the bed sheets over you

"Doll, I got you something" he said sitting at the edge of your bed "hmmm, no" you weren't going to take his crap anymore in fact-

"If you don't want these then okayy.. " 'these as in plural?' "And yes as in plural" what annoyed you the most about him was that he seemed to always read your mind. You peeked out of the bed sheets and caught a glimpse of a white fabric,

.. "Fine."

-sometimes, sometimes, he would let you test your makeup on him, most of the time it's when he's gaming and he's distracted, he would let you sit on his lap and put fake eyelashes on him and lipstick,

-he also knows you take pride in picking out your outfits everyday and what looks good and what doesn't so he asks you to spin around and ask to take pictures of your outfit, which, you excitedly always say yes, he crouch down, take pictures in all angles, find that good lighting, and still takes shitty pictures, (don't tell him though he has a large ass ego)

; "spin for me baby"

You spin around and show him all the cool extra accessories you have and the fashion hacks you used as well, he smiled as he watched you taking out his phone

"Pose" he told you, opening the camera app

And so you did, walking around the park, posing like a dress to impress character, sure that the photos would turn out like you deserve to be in the cover of a Vogue magazine

He sent you the photos and looked at you proud of himself "I should be a professional photographer" he told you, opening the messaging app and seeing the most rancid 25x25 pixel photos you have ever seen in your entire life.

"The pictures are lovely babe"

-sometimes he likes picking your outfits himself, but most of the time he picks something straight out of stellar blade, if steller blade was set in sanrio. Or he would pick out outfits that make no sense, or an umblanced outfit, like pink with olive green, it wouldn't of be that bad except you looked like a moldy strawberry.

-sometimes he actually picks out a good outfit but you don't want to say anything in case of boosting his ego again.

-he loves buying clothes for you but he especially loves buying dresses, and would get angry if you were shorts underneath since he loves it when he can see your white lacy panties when you pick something up and you forgot you were wearing a dress until you hear BEN's chuckle behind you

; "what are you laughing at now BEN?" You turned around facing him

"Nothing" he raised his hands up, feigning innocence "except the nice view I was graciously blessed with" he gave you a smirk, you made a confused face before you're cheeks started heating up

"You pervert!" You start hitting him with your handbag

"Ow! Hey! Can't I just be smitten with you for a second?" He gave you a sweet smile "yknow you should be lucky I'm even dating you in the first pla-"

he was cut off by the fact that you threw your bag right at his face,

[chaepu]

Home - Karina

pairing: idol!yoo jimin x idol!reader genre: fluff

karina stares at her phone while she waits for your video to load in and after a few seconds, your face appears on her screen, but very pixelated.

"jagi?" karina calls out. your audio is cutting out as she sees your pixeled screen moving. the call ends and karina is stuck seeing a picture of you and her on your 2nd anniversary on her home screen.

a text from you comes in,

we're on the way to the venue right now, i'll call you once i get there :)

karina likes the message and sends you a quick reply before she lays back down in bed.

you're currently on your third week on tour in america with your group and while she's happy to see you and your members having the best time on stage, performing for thousands of people every night, she can't help but miss you. at first, she had aespa's comeback to occupy her time, but that only lasted for one week. as soon as promotions were over, she was back to practice and thinking of you.

karina closes her eyes, feeling exhausted from practice but before she could fall asleep, she hears her phone ringing. quickly answering it, she's met with your smiling face.

"hi baby, what's up?" you say to her as you're sat in the green room of the venue.

"jagiya, good morning" she says back at you, smile widening the more she looks at you.

"and good night to you, how was your day?" you ask.

"tiring, we practiced all day."

"they already put you back to work? you just finished promotions." you say angrily.

"baby, we had like a two week break already." karina explains.

"really? it's already been that long?" you question.

karina nods her head, "oh well then… are you getting rest? it's almost 3am there right now."

"i can't really sleep these days." karina says

"what? why?"

"i miss you" she says quietly.

"jagi… i miss you more. i'll be home in two weeks, don't worry." you say to her, trying to provide comfort.

"yeah, but then you're back on tour in europe." she says.

"but i'll be home for a month before that and the leg only lasts for two weeks. you won't even notice i'm gone." you try to explain.

"i always notice when you're not here."

"jimin…" you quietly say.

"i'm sorry, i don't mean to make you feel bad. i just really miss you these days like i couldn't see you much before you left because we had promotions so it feels like i haven't been with you for longer." she quickly explains.

"you're not making me feel bad, i understand. i miss you just as much, probably more" you chuckle, "but like i said, i'll be home before you know it. then we can do whatever you want for a whole month."

karina nods her head, "i want you to get some sleep, okay baby?" you say to her. "and don't stay up on bubble, i see your messages." she laughs at that statement, mostly because she forced you to subscribe to her bubble, as if she doesn't already blow your phone up regularly.

"have a good day and amazing show. i'll watch the clips on twitter when i wake up." karina says and you smile at her.

"i love you" you say "i love you more" karina says before hanging up the facetime.

she lays in bed as the moon illuminates through the curtains of her room. she opens the bubble app to send a message to her fans:

I want to go home

But I’m already at home

Is it just me? Don’t you want to go home when you’re at home?

she locks her phone but the vibrations pull her back in.

it's a message from you.

you're my home<3 i'll see you soon, i promise.

she smiles and falls asleep fast for the first time in two weeks.

[corrodedbisexual]

It's just pixels

Steddie | T | ~5.1k | AO3 link

Dumping this incredibly self-indulgent thing as my free space entry for @steddie-week, Day 7. (What a week this was! 🥰)

Featuring: Fluff and Humor, AU - Modern Setting/Video Games/Twitch Streamers/Online Dating, Streamer Steve Harrington, Gaming, Online Romance, Pranks, Banter, Flirting, Chatting & Messaging, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Getting Together, Time Skip, Open Ending, POV Eddie Munson

Famous horror game reviewer Eddie Munson lurks incognito on Twitch out of boredom and comes across BabysitterSupreme's livestream. The guy's playing the new zombie shooter, and he's absolutely terrible at it. His aim is disastrous, his reflexes even worse. He died four times over the span of fifteen minutes, on goddamn Easy mode, and wasted half of his bullets on a measly crawler that’s easily taken out with a machete. And yet… Eddie keeps watching. Because the guy is just so damn cute.

Eddie’s never understood the appeal of gaming livestreams.

Review videos, like the ones he regularly makes, are short, on-point, highlight the best and worst aspects of the game, and help players make a decision whether the game would be worth their money or not. But livestreams?

Like, okay, it kind of makes sense when celebrities do it; their fans would probably watch them read a goddamn phone book. Or people actually involved in the production, they can at least offer some cool commentary on what’s going on, how they designed that particular level and stuff. But who on Earth wastes hours of their life watching— not even speedrun record breakers, not tournaments, but Just Some Guy (Gal) casually playing a game? And not even talking about the game itself half the time but about their cat, or their annoying co-worker, or a goddamn sinus infection they had last week, or— ugh, gag him with a spoon. Why is this a thing? Why do they have millions of viewers and subscribers? What’s the point when instead, you could just spend that time… actually playing?

Eddie would never make his opinions public, obviously, he prefers being civil, ‘cos a bunch of the streamers are rather influential people in the industry and he needs to maintain good working connections. Which is the only reason he actually has a Twitch account.

So… yeah. There’s definitely a rational explanation why Eddie’s spent the past half hour watching goddamn BabysitterSupreme, a streamer with a mere 87 subscribers, playing last year’s hotshot zombie shooter.

He was bored, alright? His computer was taking ages to update, and he found nothing noteworthy on YouTube, so his thumb just automatically went to the next app in the row. And he’s not even sure how this stream ended up on his feed, or why he clicked it in the first place, but fact of the matter is… it’s been 30 minutes, and Eddie’s still here.

The guy��s absolutely terrible at this game. He died four times over the span of fifteen minutes, on goddamn Easy mode, judging by amount of health the zombies ate away before he respawned at save point. He wasted half of his bullets on a measly crawler that’s easily taken out with a machete.

And yet… Eddie’s still watching. And only partly because the whole thing has a ‘train wreck you can’t look away from’ vibes.

He’s cute. He’s really cute, okay? And in the most endearing way, because despite having an objectively handsome face, it’s like he’s not even trying. He seems to genuinely not give a fuck about getting views, there’s no proper lighting setup or an obligatory ‘look I’m such a cool gamer’ background of collectibles behind him; the camera is low-res, like an inbuilt laptop one. The guy looks like he’s just genuinely having fun, despite having disastrous aim and even worse reflexes.

He shrieks like a banshee at every little jumpscare and then laughs at his own overreaction, scrunching up his nose in the most adorable manner.

He’s chewing on a bunch of salty sticks as he plays, occasionally brushing crumbs off his light blue hoodie, and leaving one sticking out of his mouth, half-eaten, when there’s suddenly an intense moment he has to focus on.

He’s got little specks of moles on his cheeks and down his neck. Eddie wonders if there’s more.    

Steve. His name’s Steve.

Read on AO3 | Divider credit

[sexhaver]

what the fuck is tumblr doing with images on mobile data that makes it so i can watch an embedded picture load from gradient to blurry mess to full-res, and then i tap on it to open it full-screen and zoom in (say, to read some text in a screenshot) and the app responds by showing me a black screen for 30 seconds before getting stuck on the pixelated mess. and then i back out and can still see the full-res embedded version. it's clearly already on my phone, are you just downloading it again? what the fuck? what the fuck.