#batch deep learning

[ingoampt]

Batch normalisation - trainable and non trainable - day 27

Understanding Trainable and Non-Trainable Parameters in Batch Normalization Demystifying Trainable and Non-Trainable Parameters in Batch Normalization Batch normalization (BN) has become a crucial component in the deep learning toolkit, particularly for training deep neural networks. However, the concepts of trainable and non-trainable parameters in BN often confuse practitioners, especially…

[sunseed-fandump]

The Witch must have been crazy to have made such a Bad Batch of cookies...

(Sorry it's not any of my other AU content, but this was an idea I just really wanted to get out of my head.)

More Info under the cut!

The kids are EEEEEVIL!!!!

Wizard is in his Azure Flame costume from ovenbreak. Strawberry is Wild Strawberry from Twizzly Gummy’s Crew. Gingerbrave is emo a zombie, kinda.

In this timeline, Wizard’s need for power in order to survive quickly turned into a lust for it. He craves it, and is under the thrall of the Azure Flame Staff which whispers to him. He is convinced that only the strong will survive, and those without power are worthless. He is terrified of being powerless as a result. He remembers what it’s like to be helpless, and never wants to feel that way again. His prickly and reclusive attitude is a result of trying not to get attached (because attachments are a weakness) yet he can’t help but have a small fondness for Gingerbrave and Strawberry, as they’re one of the few cookies who understand what it’s like to hit rock bottom.

Strawberry was deeply traumatized when she saw her witch eat a cookie before her eyes. When she tried to warn others of what she had seen, she was dismissed. Too quiet, too soft, too shy. Eventually she found herself on Twizzly Gummy Cookie’s crew, and they were a pretty bad influence. She learned to be ruthless, because showing kindness will just result in others walking all over her. This version of her isn’t afraid of speaking her mind and being heard. Twizzly’s gang fell apart due to the TBD, and she felt abandoned as a result. After being spat out into a random timeline she decided to lay low and eventually met Wizard and Gingerbrave. She’s stuck with them ever since and silently appreciates their loyalty.

This timeline’s Gingerbrave didn’t survive his escape from the oven. The Witch caught him just as he had busted open the doors and she smashed him to pieces. However, with a few icing stitches and a bit of dark magic, he was brought back to life and swore vengeance on all witches. Not too long after escaping his Witch, he recruited Wizard and Strawberry to his cause to “fix” what he perceives to be a rotten world. He does truly care for his comrades and considers them his dearest friends, as they were the first to not mistake him for a mindless undead or recoil at his habit of falling apart. He’s retained a decent sense of humor, and is still a bit ignorant when it comes to the world due to being freshly baked, however he’s a lot more closed off when it comes to strangers and not quick to think that everyone has his best interest in mind like his Canon counterpart.

The trio have looked out for one another for a while, at first things were a bit rocky between them, a loose allyship to pursue a common goal; but it’s grown into a deep loyalty towards each other.

If Wizard Cookie is separated from the Azure Flame Staff for too long he starts to experience severe withdrawal symptoms. His fear of being powerless, alongside the Staff’s thrall over him, will cause him to act desperately and get it back by any means necessary.

Wild Strawberry Cookie has seen a lot in other timelines, and as a result recognizes quite a few faces that she otherwise wouldn’t have met. She also has a stash of Time Jumpers, which allows her to dominate a battlefield as she utilizes its abilities to fast-forward and rewind herself.

Gingerbrave frequently has to redo his stitches, as they have a habit of breaking or wearing down due to the icing’s low quality. The worst ones are around his neck, which will cause his head to go flying off and getting lost. Despite the major drawbacks this causes, he can also use it to his advantage, as his individual parts are still autonomous from one another. He can also swap parts out for new ones, meaning if he loses an arm, he can take one from a fallen enemy cookie or cake monster and use that instead. He has a supply of different parts that he swaps out depending on the mission. However, he feels most comfortable with his original pieces.

While it isn’t official, Gingerbrave is considered the leader, as he keeps the group focused on their goal: to steal the Soul Jam and use them to destroy the Witches and their influence.

They actually don’t like Dark Enchantress Cookie and don’t plan to join the Cookies of Darkness. While they both have similar plans of stealing the Soul Jam and wanting to reform the world, Dark Enchantress wants to make a world that is under her control, while Gingerbrave wants to create a world of absolute free will and lawlessness.

Basically, the kids are anarchists who view Dark Enchantress and the Ancient Heroes as Tyrants.

Idk if i'll do more with this concept, but I thought it would be fun/funny considering Strawberry and Wizard both already have "evil" designs.

[dollyfiles]

INTRODUCING.. SWEETHEART!READER ₊˚⊹♡

pure soul. doe-eyes. polka dots. red nails. dreamer. vintage. coffee and vanilla. mini skirts. lace. paired with single!dad!rafe.

SWEETHEART!READER who is a 25 year old waitress at rosie’s diner, a charming old-school spot with checkered floors, red vinyl booths, and a jukebox that still plays rock ‘n’ roll classics. she’s been working since she was barely a teenager, hustling to escape a rough home that taught her resilience but never hardened her heart. she earned the nickname sweetheart from the regulars—not just because she’s got a kind spirit and always a smile on her face, but because she has a way of making everyone feel seen, even on their worst days.

SWEETHEART!READER who is warm and generous, but still nobody’s fool. sweetheart got a vintage soul, soft curls in her honey smooth hair, a swing dress hugging her waist, and a swipe of cherry-red lipstick on her heart-shaped lips. she’s learned how to handle the flirty old-timers at the diner with ease, shutting down their bad pickup lines without losing her charm. she’s got a backbone of steel when it comes to standing up for herself and others, especially the new girls at the diner who might not have found their voice yet.

SWEETHEART!READER who has a deep love for music. when she’s alone in her tiny apartment, she’ll put on a record and dance barefoot in the kitchen, letting the music take her worries away. she also plays the guitar—and sings with a voice that could stop time. she is not a professional by any means, but she has a knack for whipping up the perfect homemade pie or a batch of warm cinnamon rolls. she also never leaves the house without her dainty gold heart-shaped locket necklace, which was the very last thing her granny gave her before passing away, leaving her to figure out how to handle everything on her own.

SWEETHEART!READER who has always been careful with her heart. she grew up seeing what happens when love turns into something heavy and painful, so she promised herself she’d never settle for anything less than the real thing. and then rafe and his little girl walked into her life, giving her security in a way she has never known. and once she falls, it’s deep. from the moment he saw her, it’s like something clicked into place. he wasn’t looking for love either, but there was something magical about her and despite their age difference, she softens the edges of his world in a way no one ever did before.

ᥫ᭡ how sweetheart!reader and single!dad!rafe met

ᥫ᭡ single!dad!rafe asking sweetheart!reader out

.ᐟ layout credit/inspo: @rafesangelita

tags: @gibson-g1rl @dearapril @rafecami @fawnhart @isasweetie @beausling @angellocket @rafesbowbunny @rafesangelita @chris444evr @drewsephrry @littlelamy @sturn777 @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @luckycrys @bluemerakis @figthoughts @rafeysbangs

[delusionalwh6re]

࿐࿔ ⋆ ｡˚ a helping hand

࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ aged up!neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

summary: it’s late at night and you’re struggling. not only can you not fall asleep but there’s a sudden ache in your core. now what type of mate would neteyam be if he didn’t help you?

warnings: 🔞NEASSTYY smut, masterbation, fingering, missionary, riding, doggystyle, p in v, squirting, can’t spell mother without mo’at, neteyam being jumpscared but then turn into a freak, reader has no shame, & dirty talk

authore note: i had a daydream abt this and needed it come to life 😫 (unlike neteyam) & yall if i make a taglist would anyone wanna be apart of it LMAO 🧍🏽‍♀️hope this makes up for my mini absence on not posting 😇

bye this took forever.. guys pls don’t be shy, i loveeee any type of feedback 🥲

You let out a long sigh in exhaustion as you dropped the second batch of medicine you just made. You couldn’t understand what was going on with you. This was happening all day today, constant screw ups and honestly you were over it.

Inhaling a deep breath in attempt to calm yourself, you started cleaning up the herbs. As you were cleaning up, you failed to notice the presence of your tsahík making you slightly startled.

“What is this?” Mo’at gestured to the mess on the floor. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment and you squeaked out a little “Hi”

She sighed and walked over to your kneeling position. You pursed your lips feeling disappointed in yourself. “My child” Mo’at grabbed you from out of your thoughts “You need to relax”

Your tensed shoulders slowly started easing at her words. “I apologize” you muttered respectfully. “It is alright dear, now tell me what is bothering you” she walked in front of you putting her hands out for you to grab. With her words of encouragement, you picked yourself off of the ground. Avoiding her cold harden gaze you felt your emotions rushing back to you.

While looking around the healing tent your eyes accidentally landed on hers. Her eyes piercing directly into yours commanding an answer.

“I feel like a failure” you finally admitted. “What makes you feel that way?” she questioned motioning you to sit on the mat beside her.

“Many women in the past have succeeded beyond my level. Why am I so far behind? I should be able to do this, how can i ever be tsahík if I can’t complete a simple task such as making medicine?” you huffed in frustration after your rant. Mo’at gave you an understanding look before taking her hands in yours “Child, it takes time” she started “but I don’t have much time! Neteyam is granted to be olo’eyktan soon and-” you stated before it was her turn to cut you off.

“What does Neteyam becoming olo’eyktan soon have to do with any of this?” she squinted her eyes at you. “He is my mate” you shrugged. “Exactly , he is your mate, not your conjoined twin!” she exclaimed causing you to let out a breathy chuckle.

“The two of you are completely different people. His learning pace is different than yours and that is okay. Neteyam has been training since he was in the womb, he’s meant for this” your eyes landed on hers as you digested what she was saying. “You on the other hand, have not. You didn’t expect to mate with my grandson but I am glad that you did” she looked you up and down with a sigh of relief.

“Why you say it like that?” you laughed at her sudden look of disapproval. She looked at you with a straight face “I was afraid our village would’ve come to doom had Neteyam picked any of those thirsty women, I don’t know how their mothers do it” she spoke with an eye roll at the memory of many annoying girls trying to get neteyam to court them.

‘What a time’ you thought. Before you and neteyam had become mates, when the two of you were just friends. Time had really gone fast.

Mo’at noticed your dazed out expression knowing you were thinking about your progressive relationship with her grandson. She smiled seeing a bit of herself in you when she had her own mate. She used to be in this exact situation which is why she was able to relate to you.

Snatching you out of your thoughts once again she spoke up breaking the newfound comfortable silence “I used to be in your exact position” your attention went back on her with hopeful eyes “For real? but you’re the best tsahik we’ve ever had” you rambled “I know” she smiled in pride causing you to giggle.

“My point is, practice makes perfect. That is a term i have learned from the sky people here and it is one of the only things they said that are true. You will not get it the first tries, but don’t give up and keep going. Success will come your way, my child” she nodded her head at you in approval

You nodded your head back and felt a sudden rush of confidence run through you. If Mo’at who was honestly one of the strongest people you knew was able to run this clan, so could you.

“You give me hope Ma’ Tsahík” you smiled at her gently squeezing her hands “Oh please, we discussed this, you can call me grandmother” you placed your arms around her for a well needed hug. She tensed before relaxing as she hugged you back with genuine love.

“Besides, I have hopes that there will soon be little ones calling me great grandmother” she pulled away with a smirk and hope glistening in her eyes. A blush crept onto your cheek before laughing at what she was implying “You’re funny”

She began walking you towards the makeshift door to exit out of the healing tent as you discussed your plans for tomorrow. Your ikran landing on a nearby cliff after sensing your presence. Before you were able to fully leave Mo’at reminded you of something “Don’t forget the war party returns tonight, I will not be present but will you able to make sure everyone is in one piece?”

Your eyes widened in realization, Neteyam was returning in a few hours. He had went on a one week hunting trip and you had been missing him like crazy. How could you forget? You figured spending time with Mo’at and being occupied your mind had let that slip.

“Fuck” you mumbled. “Yes! I can do that don’t worry! I’ll see you tomorrow grandmother. Take some rest you deserve it” you yelled out as you sprinted towards your ikran to go home.

You had spent all day at the healing tent that you had no time to prepare for Neteyam’s return. Even though he told you multiple times that as long as you were there he is more than satisfied and he just needed to be wrapped around you.

However, you were still insistent on setting atleast something up for him, what kind of wife would you be? Neteyam was the best husband any one could ever asked for. Always putting you and others above himself, making several sacrifices and just being overall selfless. So you had no problem with being a little housewife.

Once your ikran had landed at the home that Neteyam literally built for your future family. You felt your body getting excited at his soon to come arrival, you had missed your man dearly and you knew once you were in his arms all your problems will disappear.

“My love? I’m home” Neteyam called out as he walked through the door. Immediately frowning once he didn’t see you, however he did notice several candles lit up so he knew you were home.

Walking towards the candles he also noticed a platter of his favorite foods. A smile emerged on his face he bent down to sit as he waited for you since he was sure you would reveal yourself any second. His guess was correct as you slowly appeared in the makeshift door way of your home in a newly made outfit “Welcome home handsome”

Neteyam’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice and your scent. Turning around to finally have a look as his eyes widened. Your azure skin was complimented by green and blue jewels. Your loincloth and top were scattered with them, along with small purple crystals dangling from the pieces. Your cleavage was on display just for him but also not enough in order to tease him. You took your braids out so your hair had the most perfect waves which was a style you knew Neteyam adored.

The forest inspired outfit you had done left him completely star struck. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, and you were all for him. He was so in awe of you he didn’t even notice you were now sat next to him until you said something.

“Handsome you alright? Welcome home” you placed a hand on his cheek before placing a gentle but loving kiss on his lips. He decided to make a move by tilting his head to deepen the kiss, slickly sliding his tongue once you let out a small gasp into his mouth. You giggled into the kiss at his antics causing him to giggle with you before he playfully bit your lip with a smirk.

The two of you leaned away to finally look into the other’s eyes. His eyes were full with so much love you swore they would’ve burst. “Hi beautiful” he rubbed your cheek softly. You nuzzled your face into his hand with a contented sigh finally feeling at peace.

Your gaze met his as a sigh left his mouth. “What is it?” you lifted your head. He stared at you not saying anything. You started becoming nervous under his gaze and debated whether this was too much or not. You were about to speak up about his behavior until he beat you to it.

“You’re just so” he paused to take another moment to admire you “so so beautiful” his voice lowered as his eyes trailed downwards. A heat started to spread across your cheeks as you smiled at him.

For he rest of the night the two of you caught up on everything. He explained how he made several successful kills during the hunt leading to you giving him kisses in reward as you praised him. On the other hand, you came clean to him about how your tsahík training was actually going. He could tell you were very stressed out, encouraging you to take your time and not worry because he will be by your side every step of the way.

Your mind was racing with thoughts as Neteyam peacefully slept on your chest. The two of you cuddled up on your shared bed. After talking for a few hours, time caught up to Neteyam and his tiredness consumed him. You were very understanding and insisted on him getting some rest, even including yourself by laying with him.

But as time went on you couldn’t help but think about the time he was gone. How many nights you were forced to fall asleep without a release. As you debated with yourself on what to do, your mind eventually came to a conclusion. Trying to be as quiet as possible, you gently pushed Neteyam of you, still beside him so he wouldn’t wake up, while slowly trailing your hand down your loincloth.

You were so close. The pit of your stomach tightening more and more with each flick to your clit. It was like you were running to the finish line in slow motion, yet almost there. In just a couple of seconds that knot would finally snapped and you would be stress free. Which is what you desperately needed.

So caught up in your own bliss you didn’t realize the movement from beside you, right when your core was at its peak your fingers stopped at what you heard, losing your hard worked orgasm.

“What are you doing?” Neteyam asked in a quiet voice staring at the side of your face. Your heart physically stopped and dropped for a second. Eywa please say this was just a dream, but no, this was actually a nightmare.

You heard shuffling next to you and finally got the courage to look over at him only to be met with a blank stare “Go ‘head, continue” he licked his lips looking you up and down

You shook your head as frustrated tears filled your eyes. He chuckled before looking down in disbelief “Nah, you wanted to touch yourself right? So finish before I do it for you”

At his words you swore your orgasm would’ve just shot right out of you despite no physical contact, his words just had that affect on you. You bit your lip in anticipation as you pulled your hand away from your pussy and spread your legs further

“Please” you whimpered looking up at him desperately. “Please what baby?” his head tilted as he caressed your cheek lovingly. “Touch me” you whispered dragging his other hand down to your now dripping cunt. He snarled before cupping your pussy while slightly grinding his palm against your throbbing clit.

“Oh I’m gonna do more than touch you, just wait” he smiled before leaning over to kiss a trail across your stomach. Your breath hitched, you were in for it now. “Neteyam” you whined as his lips got more aggressive on your skin. “A week without my attention and you just don’t know how to act, huh?” he shook his head. Your breath got caught in your throat “That’s not true” your voice was barely a whisper.

“It’s not? Over here touchin’ yourself while i’m sleeping right there. You wanted to get caught, didn’t you yawne?” he hovered over you

“Maybe” you bit your lip seductively as the excitement of all of this grew inside of you

He dragged a finger along your slit, gathering up some already built up slick. “All you gotta do is think ‘bout me huh?” he asked looking up at you. “And look at you” you replied cheeky with a lopsided grin. Deciding to be bold, you grabbed onto his hand to press it against your soaked pussy.

“This is what you do to me Neteyam” you moved his hand up and down slowly as wet sounds started filling up the room. He growled as he inhaled your scent “dirty girl”

You laughed breathless as your previous orgasm slowly approached you again. Neteyam, being an expert in your body language already knew this as he continued to watch you, allowing you to use him for pleasure. It’s what you been doing while he was away anyways.

He licked his lips before trailing kisses all over your body. Starting from your cheek, to your neck, then your chest and as he moved downwards his kisses became more aggressive on your stomach. Each time a kiss ended a ‘pop’ would be heard.

You gasped when his slender finger suddenly slipped in, a smirk on his face. He curled his finger at the perfect angle, hitting that squishy spot inside of you that he knew always drove you crazy.

“Oh! I’m so close” you whimpered within seconds. Neteyam helping you reach your peak with ease. “Go ‘head, let it out” he sloppily kissed your clit. At the much needed contact your orgasm flowed right through you. Your mouth opened as a silent scream left you.

“Yeah, yeah make that pussy squirt for me” he spoke lowly rubbing your puffy clit at a fast pace to work you through your orgasm. “Teyam” you whined trying to close your thighs around his hand.

“Unt unt, no, we’re not done” he sat up looking down at you. Your eyes widened as you watched his hands move towards his loincloth to untie it. You inhaled a deep breath at the sight of his cock now in your view. He loosened his loincloth completely as it was now pooled at the bottom of thighs, removing it entirely and throwing it across the room.

“You’ve been so, so greedy. Tell me, do you want it slow or for me to fuck you like I’ve been dying to do?” his voice came out raspy as he placed lighthearted kisses against your neck.

Your body stiffened, your words getting stuck in your throat as you didn’t know what to say. “I-I- just need you Teyam. So bad” you whined.

“How bad baby?” his eyes met yours as he stroked his cock directly in front of your warm sex. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, a wet sound could be heard from the amount of pre cum gathered on his tip. You were so incredibly turned on by him, your body proving that as your cunt clenched around nothing.

“So bad, I want-need you to destroy me.” you ran your hands across his chest. “Fuck me until i have nothing left to give, stuff me to the brim, I want it all, I can take it. I’ll be your good girl, I promise” and if he wasn’t already turned on by just the pure sight of you the words that left your mouth was enough for him to slide his dick inside of you.

The both of you let out long moans at the familiar feeling. Having to be away from each other for a long period of time was hard, but now you guys were together, intertwined.

“Fuuuckk” he moaned looking down at the source of pleasure. You whined and brought your legs to wrap around his waist, bringing him closer to place kisses all over his face.

“I’m all yours, all yours” you whispered in his ear before kissing it gently

“Yeah? You’re all mine? Say that shit again”

“I’m all yours neteyam” a whine leaving your mouth as he grinded on top of you creating the perfect amount of friction

He purred quietly at your words, nuzzling the side of his face into yours and bringing you into a much needed kiss. Causing you to mumble against his lips “I love you”

“I love you more” he placed his hands onto your hips. “You gonna let me fuck you? You’re gonna be good and take it right? he sat up to look down at you.

You pushed your hips up, hoping to answer his question. Circling your hips to feel some friction as he bottomed out inside of you, smirking at him.

Finally feeling satisfied with your response, he started to move. “Shit” he groaned as he felt your sticky walls contract around him. He smirked at your not so slick antics before starting to thrust inside of you. Your whines started to fill up the room along with quiet slapping noises. “Oh Neteyam!” you moaned out scratching his back.

“I been waiting to fuck you for so long baby, I’m right here” he growled in your ear, placing one of his hands on your hips to steady his harsh thrusts.

You started letting out soft moans feeling him go deeper and deeper, your juices making it easier for him to hit spots inside of you only he could reach.

You screamed as his hands made its way behind your thighs to hold them up in the air. Taking this as a sign, your hands replaced his as you now held onto the back of your thighs. “Good girl” he mumbled drilling his dick inside of you

“Mhm, dick- so, so good, yes!” you babbled out complete nonsense but he knew what you were trying to say. “This dick is just soooo good, huh?” he chuckled teasingly

His pace was becoming almost painful but in the most pleasurable way possible as he continued fucking you relentlessly. Pushing your thighs all the up so they were pressed firmly against your chest. Completely folding you just the way he wanted, not having any mercy on you or your poor cunt.

The most obscene sounds consuming the room, all that could be heard is skin slapping, your fucked out screams and his grunts.

“Ugh, don’t stop! Right there, Oh right there!” you whimpered as he jackhammered your pussy

“I’m not gonna stop my love, this pussy is way too good” he mumbled rolling his hips into you as his thrusts became sloppy. You felt your stomach tightening and your cunt clenching rapidly as a signal you were close.

“You’re gonna make me cum” you moaned as you held onto him for dear life. he reached down to be face to face with you before whispering in your ear “Then cum my love”

At his words you completely let go with a scream as you threw your head back. Your orgasm leaked out of you making your privates even wetter. You weren’t embarrassed per say, but every time this happens you kind of shy away from it. Neteyam on the other hand never did and he found it so attractive, he was the only one who got you like this.

“We made a mess baby” he smirked before looking down between your bodies. ”I know” your cheeks heated up and you looked up away from him. “Nah, don’t be shy now” he laughed at you before leaning up to pull out of you, he assumed you were tired and wanted to call it quits, but oh your man just had no idea how badly you really needed him.

Within a couple of seconds, he was laid out on his back with you hovering over him. Your plump lips slightly swollen from the amount of kisses and moaning, the tits that he loved so much on a perfect eye level so he could trail his tongue around your sensitive nipples, your slim waist that he loved so much, fuck. you were truly a goddess on display.

“You’re so sexy” you moaned biting your lip as you rubbed your sensitive clit on his abs making them tense. Not that he was completely on soft anyways, but now he was rock hard again.

“Don’t play with me babe, if you wanna do something then do it” he smirked at you before he placed his bottom lip between his teeth. You smiled at him with pure adoration before reaching behind you to grab his wet cock to line it up with your drenched hole.

Sinking down onto him with a contented sigh, the familiar feeling of his dick filling you up once again. Light moans from you and Neteyam filling up the hut. A hum from Neteyam catching your attention, his head firm against the pillow as his mouth slowly formed in an ‘O’ shape.

You felt your insides tingling knowing you were the reason because of that, bringing him pleasure. Catching him out of a trance you rolled your pelvis against his, his tip kissing your g spot perfectly.

“Baby” he whispered lowly as his eyes were hooded as he looked at you. “Yes?” You smiled bringing a hand to his neck up to his cheek. “C’mon” he impatiently moved your hips back and forth signaling what he wanted

With a proud smirk on your face, you made sure your knees were placed firmly beside his hips while perching yourself on your tippy toes for balance. “Ready?” you adjusted to his size

“Always” he cockily bit his lip and closed his eyes as he began to relax while you fucked him. Gathering up the confidence, you pushed your hips up until his throbbing tip was the only thing inside of you before slamming back down.

A loud moan left the both of you. You looked at Neteyam through your lashes; his eyes slightly rolling to the back of his head, he was enjoying this. Repeating the same action, each time a perfect stroke against your g spot causing you to cry out and drip. After gaining some rhythm with your hips, you were riding him like there was no tomorrow.

“Hmm, oh my gosh” you moaned loudly throwing your head back as you slammed down onto him harder, the pleasure consuming all parts of your body and you didn’t want it to stop. “So fucking- ugh” he was cut off when you started to circle your hips.

You leaned forward placing your hands beside his head as you placed your mouth by his ear. He smiled up at you before putting a hand on your lower back. Deciding to be bold, you moved your hips in a specific motion which led to his eyes widening in realization.

“Told you I’m all yours baby” you whined in his ear as you continued spelling his name with your hips

He placed a hard spank on your ass, a chuckle leaving his lips “Damn right you are, no one is ever fucking you the way I do right?”

You let out a moan once his hips roughly thrusted towards yours, him meeting your thrust more than half way. “Answer me” he demanded forcing your hips up and down. “N-no!” your voice shook as your guts got played in

“Neteyaaam” you moaned as your legs were starting to give out from his harsh thrusts. “Gonna cum, hm?” he trialed his thick tongue around your perky nipples, a bolt of electricity running through you due to the amount of pleasure.

“Yes! Yes please let me cum” you begged placing your hands on his shoulders. “I was never gonna deny you release baby” he laughed at your vulnerable state, clearly amused at how much you really needed him to fuck some brain cells back into you.

“Mhm, turn around” he moaned giving your ass a hard smack before gripping it gently. You gave him a smirk before placing your hands on his chest for balance while getting off of him. Turning around, making sure to give him a perfect view, your round ass on display just for him along with your slick pussy lips. He moaned at the sight before placing another firm slap on the flesh.

You giggled while sliding back on his thick cock that was desperately waiting for your dripping cunt “My ass is gonna fall off with how much you smack it”

“I don’t give a fuck, it’s mine right?” he smiled behind your back while gripping the flesh tightly with both hands. “Obsessed” you mumbled before leaning forward to place your hands on his knees for balance as you began going crazy on top of him.

“Yeah put it on me, juuuuusst like that” he moaned watching your ass ripple against his pelvis. “Oh! Mhm, I- FUCK!” you screamed using all your force to slam down onto him. Your eyes crossing as his warm sack met your clit.

“Damn mama” Neteyam looked in awe as strings of your juices started to create lines all over your privates; moans getting louder as the both of you approached your peaks.

“I’m gonna fucking cum” your voice getting higher after each word from every thrust into your core. “S-Same time baby” he stuttered holding onto your hips as the knot in his stomach finally unraveled.

His seed flowing through you was enough to trigger your own orgasm as you let go on top of him. Your guys’ cum now mixed together pooled all over each other’s thighs.

Your breathing slowly became steady as your legs staggered while trying to get off of him. “Let me help you” a raspy voice was heard behind you. However, it wasn’t long until you were set up face down ass up.

“You’re actually trying to kill me” you muttered turning your head to look back at Neteyam. “Kill the cat” he winked at you while playing with your swaying tail.

You bit back a smile before pushing your ass back onto him; making sure to hold eye contact with him the whole time. An obvious smirk on your lips as you teased him.

You were caught off guard by a stinging pain on your right cheek. “You know what-” you started before being caught off by a harsh thrust into your cunt.

Neteyam set a merciless rhythm from the beginning. He was determined to have you worn out by the end of this round, wanting you to sleep real good in his arms tonight which is right where you belonged.

“NETEYAM!” you screamed plunging your face into the sheets as you gripped onto them tightly causing your knuckles to turn white. “I really wish you could see this baby” he groaned watching himself go in and out

“Oh great mother! Yes!” you moaned as he impaled you from behind; another orgasm quickly approaching unsurprisingly. “Yeah? You wanna see this too right?” he gripped your hips

“Mhm, baby please” you didn’t know what you were saying please for but both of you had an idea that you just didn’t want him to stop. He laughed “Maybe next time I should just take one of those cameras then, could just make our own movie, so every time I’m away you’ll have something. Keep you in check of exactly who this pussy belongs to”

You moaned loudly at his words and clenched around him tightly as you came on him for the third time tonight. “That’s what the fuck I’m talking ‘bout!” he bit his bottom lip; tugging on your hair to lift you up.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his pace increased. With every firm thrust he sent you he smashed against your sweet spot that had you trembling “I-I caaan’t”

“You can take it though right? Wanna be big and bad every other time” he mumbled under his breath now rolling his hips into you; his pace changing to slow but deeper

“Too big” you whispered as your thighs shook. He bit his lips admiring your form before planting kisses all over your back “I want you to think of everything I just did to you the next time you touch yourself, you hear me?”

You nodded your head letting out a soft moan “Babeee, I can’t stop cumming, feel so full, feels so fucking good”

He soothed your cries with a gentle rub on your ass to calm you “I got you, just let it out, you been good like you promised”

“I love you, Neteyam! I love you soo much” you sobbed as he picked up his pace again in attempt to make both of you guys cum. His dick bullying its way all throughout your stomach, hitting all of the right places.

“I love you sooo much more, beautiful. Cum all over this dick, you deserve it” he spoke softly tightening his grip on your hair.

You came with a cry of his name, your jaw dropping as pleasure washed over you for the fifth time in a row. Your body slowly giving up on you, but a smile was plastered on your face as you got what you’ve desperately been wanting.

“Shiiit” he whimpered as your juices ran down your body getting his cock wetter than before; the position you were in not helping at all as he looked down before suddenly busting his load inside of you.

You hummed in satisfaction as you rolled your hips back towards his still ones, letting the moment die down peacefully. As exhaustion washed over the both of you, it was time to cuddle up. Neteyam got up to go across the room to clean you up with gentleness and care. You even cleaned him up aswell leading to you guys being extra lovey dovey with one another.

The two of you were inseparable. Now finally settled in your shared home, in bed, peacefully. Your queues now connected together as you guys let your minds speak to each other, letting the other know how much they were loved.

In the end it was all worth it…

[greengoblinswifey]

Symbol of Love— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— based off sofia and rafe’s cute moment in s4 ep 9 so slight spoilers. rafe is on mission to catch groff and he gives you something to treasure before he leaves.

warnings— spoilers, fluff, mentions of death.

a/n— saw the scene and immediately decided to write this, my heart is melting omg ugh that should be me and him. these new batch of episodes have been such a roller coaster, can’t wait to finish and see how everything plays out <3

Rafe’s hands were tense as walked around the sand, jaw tight as he tried to process what he’d just learned. Chandler Groff had stolen his money, and he boated off the island. You leaned against the tree, eyes wide as you tried to absorb the news. Hollis’ death had hit you harder than you let on, and whispers were circulating that JJ Maybank might have been involved. Nothing felt certain anymore, but what you did know was that Rafe had always been the one constant—until now.

“Okay, but listen,” Rafe said, his voice sharp and urgent. “Unless I catch up with Groff now, that money is long gone.”

“Where is he, Rafe?” you asked, your heart pounding. You didn’t want him to go, especially not alone, but you knew you couldn’t stop him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, his gaze fixed somewhere past you. “I’ll track him down. I’ll get it all back.” There was a steely resolve in his voice, a familiar determination that reminded you of just how far he would go to keep what was his.

But before he could take off, he turned to you, his eyes softening just and took a deep breath. “I want to say something first.”

You opened your mouth, the confession about Hollis and everything that happened burning on your tongue. “Rafe, I- I need to tell you something too.”

Before you could finish, he startled you by dropping to one knee, pulling out a beautiful ring from his pocket. Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly you felt like the world was spinning.

He held it up to you, his gaze never leaving yours. “It was my mom’s,” he said softly, his voice breaking just slightly. “Been in my family forever. I know it’s some kook bullshit, but I just- I wanted you to have it before I left. So you’d know this, us- we’re real.”

“Rafe, wait,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I- I did something. It’s about Hollis. There’s more I didn’t tell you—”

He cut you off, shaking his head and cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “Don’t. There’s things about me you don’t know. And trust me, they’re way worse than anything you could say. I don’t care what you did, and I don’t care to know.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed intense. “I want you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You could barely breathe, tears leaving your eyes and he slipped the ring on your finger, his eyes pleading.

You were crying now, overwhelmed by the depth of his acceptance. You could feel his hands tremble as he slid the ring onto your finger. “Say yes,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “There’s no more pogue bullshit, okay? No more of that. I want you to quit that job and move in with me.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a promise, and you nodded, barely able to find your voice. “Yes, Rafe.”

He smiled, relief flooding his face as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands cradling your face as if you were something fragile he had to hold onto. You kissed him back, fingers curling into his jacket, your tears mixing with his warmth.

When you pulled away, he pressed a key into your palm, closing your fingers over it. “It’s to the house. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Stay there for me, okay? At my—no, our place.”

He brushed a kiss across your forehead, and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with one last look, he turned, walking toward his boat as you watched him go.

The salty breeze whipped around you, and you looked down at the ring, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. It was beautiful and strange, the symbol of a life you were about to share with him, a life you’d always dreamed of. You traced the ring with your thumb, marveling at its age, its history, a part of him that would stay with you even as he left.

Tears blurred your vision as he boarded the boat, but you stood there, rooted, until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, clutching the key and the promise he’d left behind.

As you watched Rafe disappear over the horizon, a wave of fear washed over you, heavier than the ocean air around you. You knew how dangerous Groff could be, how far he was willing to go to keep what he’d stolen. And now, Rafe was chasing him down. Your heart twisted, the thought of something happening to him tugging at every corner of your mind. But then you shook yourself, forcing the doubt back. Rafe was tough, stronger than anyone you knew. He could handle himself. He’d be okay.

He’d come back.

You took a deep breath, letting the thought settle over you like a warm blanket. He’d come back, and when he did, you’d spend the rest of your lives together. There would be reward, there would be sunshine after the storm. Your love, this wild, all-consuming love, could survive anything. It had to. Everything was going to be okay.

You glanced down at the ring he’d placed on your finger, feeling its weight, its history pressing against your skin like a quiet promise. Your fingers tightened around the key in your other hand, holding onto it as if it could anchor you to this moment, to him. This key was a piece of him, a piece of your future together, the home you’d share, the life you’d build once he returned.

With one last look out at the horizon, you whispered a silent promise of your own. Then you turned back holding the ring and the key close to your heart, holding onto the hope that soon, he’d be back in your arms.

[miyukisu]

On Camera .ᐟ

❤︎ | You just love teasing your best friend—even better now that he's frustrated and can only see you through a screen (2.1k wc) ╰ feat. narumi gen (kn8) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 1 | kinktober masterlist

tags - best friend! narumi, virgin! narumi, reader also works in the force, cybersex, mutual masturbation, so much dirty talk, flashing, nipple play (kinda), swearing

minors do not interact

You and Narumi Gen go way back to your trainee days. Much to everyone's surprise, you two became quick friends—really good friends at that. I mean, who would've thought?

There's you—a fiery little thing, loves to poke fun and tease her friends. Then, there's Narumi Gen—bit of an oddball. Truth be told, you two had almost nothing in common, except for the fact that you were both strong.

You, Narumi, and Mina led your trainee batch; everyone looked up to you. Mina respected the two of you. Narumi, of course, couldn't accept that there was someone tailgating him at his position at the top. And you—who admired Narumi quite a lot. Although, that admiration came in the form of endless teasing. It wasn't just Narumi who was annoyed, but the rest of your fellow trainees as well. They were forced to be a witness of your 'disgusting and coy display of affection.'

Narumi said he hated it. He hated how strong you were and how you were always up in his business. Yet, you two were attached at the hip. It was a paradox, but neither of you addressed it. That was until you both graduated and got assigned at different bases which were hours apart.

Your feelings for each other were thrown into disarray. But that didn't mean you lost all correspondence.

────────────

"You look like shit."

Narumi groans from the other end of your video call. You were teasing him, but it was partially true—his eyes were sunken and a deep frown persisted on his face.

He glares intensely at you. "You wouldn't understand the burdens of the strongest kaiju killer, would you?"

His arrogance was only met by a laugh. That same laugh was one he despised, but sought after because... it just felt right. There were many things in his head that made no sense and the common denominator was you. "Why do you have to mess up my mind?" he'd often think, especially on his sleepless nights.

Narumi leans back in his chair, a pensive sigh escaping his dried lips. "But y'know... I've really been frustrated lately..." he admits.

It was a rare show of vulnerability. Most of the time, he's too prideful to admit his true feelings, but after knowing you for so long, he has learned to let his walls down sometimes. At the very least—you were nice enough to pause the teasing when it gets serious.

"Overworked huh?" you ask.

He turns his chair to face you again, tilting his head and letting out another fatigued breath. "That and life is just so BORING," he exclaims. You raise an eyebrow, anticipating a hissy fit which wasn't uncommon for this guy.

"I feel like all I do is work and work... and work. God, even the younger members of this base have more fun than I do."

A smirk crosses your lips, amused that you predicted his impending meltdown. "What? Like they don't deserve it?"

"Duh! I'm out here busting my ass off—killing kaiju left and right—and these kids are the ones having a social life?"

"When did you care about being social, Mr. Shut-in?"

He clicks his tongue. "Okay, first of all, fuck you. Second, I don't care about social relations. I am WAY above that, okay? I don't care about what they do. They can fuck like rabbits in the dorms for all I care but—"

Narumi was cut off by the sound of your boisterous laughter. As much as you tried to keep the serious facade, it was impossible... especially after figuring out his true cause of distress.

"Oh my God... don't tell me you're mad because the younger soldiers are getting more action than you?"

His face felt warm all over. Narumi didn't mean to blurt that out, but envy had been consuming him for the past few days after he had heard some younger members of the base... getting dirty in one of the dorms.

Narumi was the strongest soldier—admired and idolized by many. Yet, here he was—a raging virgin with a seemingly unreciprocated crush on you. Yes, you, but he'd rather die than admit it to your face.

He turned to look away, stunned into silence by his own actions. He was unsure of how to salvage his reputation at the moment. "That's not what I meant..."

All the arrogance had faded from his voice—replaced by a uncharacteristic softness as a result of embarrassing himself.

"Oh c'mon. There's nothing embarrassing about that. We're only human; we can feel those things, y'know?"

"Even you?" he counters.

An uneasy smile spreads across your face. "Yeah... even me."

But the look on his face says that he isn't convinced. In his head he's thinking about how impossible that is considering how attractive you are. You had to be lying about being in the same boat as him.

Though you weren't sure why you wanted him to believe you.

"I'm serious. Look, I'm in a base far away from all the people I know and the guy here aren't exactly my... cup of tea," you added.

With that, your best friend's face seemed to lighten up a bit. Part of him was glad that even someone as hot as you was in the same predicament as him, but mostly because the person he likes isn't being taken by anyone else.

As high and mighty he sees himself, he always thought himself unworthy of you. The simple fact that you were unclaimed gave him a sliver of hope.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The poor guy was confused and it was clear as day. You felt mostly responsible for it. As you prepared to say something, you crossed your arms—pushing your boobs up in the process. Wearing a tank top suddenly made you conscious of your body.

An intrusive thought invaded your brain. It was perhaps the result of you wanting to tease him, his frustration, and you being secretly pent up as well. It was a futile attempt to shake off that thought as it kept bombarding you.

You were able to hold it in, until you couldn't.

"Hey... Gen?"

"What?" he says, sounding a bit dejected by his circumstances.

You stifled a smile, knowing that he'd be thrown off by it. "Can you turn around? I wanna show you a surprise."

He raises an eyebrow, skeptical of whatever you have up your sleeve. Throughout your years together, he has learned to take your so-called sincerity with a grain of salt. But his affection towards you makes him abandon all rational thought.

"Okay?" he says, turning around in his swivel chair.

You let out a breath—giving yourself a quick mental pep talk. You quickly lifted your top, thrilled and anxious of the risk at the same time.

It was now or never. "Okay, you can look now."

Narumi quickly turns in his seat, eyes widening upon seeing a pair of tits—your tits—on his screen. He frantically looked away, covering his eyes with his hands—though he wasn't doing a good job at it.

"H-hey! What the fuck? Put those away!"

His words betrayed his actions; you could see him peeking through his fingers. You figured you were at a point of no return, so you did the only appropriate thing: squishing your boobs together for him.

Seeing your boldness, he let his hand fall—finally admiring what you displayed for him. "Seriously... what are you doing?"

"We're both frustrated, aren't we?" you ask as if your situation was ordinary.

"So what? I stare at your tits?"

"Dumbass. Is that all you do when you're frustrated? Stare at shit?"

He rolls his eyes, trying to act blasé, but there was a growing tent in his pants. "No... well, I guess I... jack off... sometimes..."

As if saying 'sometimes' softens the blow of his words.

You let go of your tits and lean back into your chair. It was entertaining—how his eyes never seem to leave your chest. Almost as if he were entranced by it.

His body moved on its own, palming the growing erection under his sweats. It ached; it was painful and it wanted relief.

With the angle of the camera, you couldn't really see him pull his cock out from under the desk, but you just knew. The momentary o-face he made presumably when the cold air of his room hit the warm and sensitive skin of his cock was a dead giveaway.

All shame was thrown out the window as he started to slowly fist his cock at the sight he could only dream of. It almost felt unreal to him that all of this was happening—you willingly showing off your tits while he jacked off and you watched.

It was exhilarating in all the best ways.

But he wasn't the only one excited. This all started because you were frustrated too. Your eyes were fixed on his face. Unlike him—who had visuals—all you could go off on was the fact that you were doing something so dirty.

A hand slipped under your shorts and beneath your panties. It was damp, of course it was. You slowly rubbed the pad of your finger against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Narumi must've noticed your own movements as well because he let out a low groan. "Fuck... that's hot."

You huff your chest out with a smirk. "Bet you're so hard right now huh?"

"Like you're not a fucking waterfall down there," he retorts.

The back and forth goes on while the two of you played with yourselves.

Eventually, the stimulation wasn't enough for you. Quickly, you pulled your hand out and popped your fingers into your mouth. He watched intently, mesmerized by you.

After sufficiently lubricating your digits, you snuck them back in and plunged two fingers into you. The pleasant intrusion had you throwing your head back against your chair and letting out a soft moan.

He rubbed himself faster than before. Narumi was desperately reaching his high, wanting to quell the ache in his cock.

"Play with your tits," he demanded.

You had heard him well enough before you got lost in the sensation. Your other hand made its way up to cup one of your breasts, slowly massaging it in a teasing manner. His jaw went slack at how easily you obeyed his orders.

The ego boost that he got while ordering around his subordinates isn't even on par with this at all.

Every time you flicked or tugged your nipple—he swore that his dick twitched. "Yeah... keep going. Are you rubbing your clit huh?"

"No..."

"Oh," he breathes, "Fucking yourself on your fingers then?"

"Y-yeah, but I can't reach deep enough," you whine.

He sucks in through his teeth. Narumi had never seen you so desperate before and awakened something primal in him.

"If that were me... you would've came minutes ago, wouldn't you?"

You nod, now wishing that it was his fingers making a mess out of you. But this was all you could get for now.

"Yeah... you're the strongest after all. You can do anything, right?"

"You fucking know it," he says almost breathlessly. Seeing that fucked out look on your face while praising him almost made him cum. But he wanted to last longer—to savor this moment which he wasn't sure if it would happen again.

"You gonna cum with me?" he asked.

He was close. Oh so painfully close. But he was a bit of a romantic in that he wanted the both of you to cum together.

You peel your back off your chair, shifting angles to coax out an orgasm and after a few moments, you do. The sensation flooded your senses, spreading warmth all throughout your body. You weren't sure if you came this hard because of having 0 action for so long or if it was because of how lewd you were with your best friend.

And as you moaned sweetly through your microphone, he let out hot ropes of cum and a breathless moan to match. He felt his abdomen cramping after unconsciously being stiff and on edge for so long.

Both of you let out labored breaths, trying to calm your racing heartbeats. It was only then your eyes met again. Though it seems like post nut clarity hit him too soon as he looked away with a bashful expression.

"Still frustrated, captain?" you teased.

He was glad you didn't call him that earlier, otherwise he would've came right on the spot. "Shut the fuck up... I am though."

"Greedy. That wasn't enough for you?"

"You mean seeing you play with yourself through a fucking monitor? Go figure."

You laugh once more and it was now mostly music to his ears. "Say—how about I visit you some time? Let me show you the real thing?"

"...Sure."

"For someone who was speaking so dirty earlier—you sure do get shy huh?"

"Don't you ever shut the fuck up?" he quips to which you laugh again.

The prospect of getting to hold you and feel you around his member was tantalizing. But for now, he'll have to deal with his cock hardening again.

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note a short one... with no p in v... to start of the month

[xuchiya]

accidentally have 8 pets || ateez || chapter 5

| genre: fluff. slice of life. small tinge of angst. kind of supernatural(?) | mentions: doctors. vets. needles. adoption. a bit cruel. magic starts. abuse to animals. laws. douyin saving the day. TAGLIST: CLOSED

back to masterlist || chapter 6

It had been four months since I enrolled Mingi in the training program, and Bangchan had been kind enough to keep me updated on his progress. A smile tugged at my lips as I stared at the latest photo he sent—a playful snapshot of Mingi and Yeo towering over Bangchan, who was dramatically attempting to piggyback ride them.

I giggled at the sight.

Mingi had come so far.

From a timid pup who once hesitated behind me, he had grown more confident with each passing week. He was learning to trust, to play, to stand on his own four feet. Bangchan had even mentioned how Mingi had leaped to reach the bell outside the indoor playground—either as a challenge for Yeo or to prove something to Bangchan himself.

It had taken time for me to let Mingi be on his own, like a parent nervously watching their child on their first day of daycare. But it had taken even more for Mingi to learn how to be independent. With a soft sigh, I saved the photo and tucked my phone away before heading toward the kitchen. The next batch of croissants wouldn’t make themselves.

Just as I reached for the ingredients, the soft chime of the bell above the entrance rang.

I turned instinctively, expecting to see a new customer stepping inside. But there was no one. The only people in the shop were the usual customers, quietly enjoying their meals. No one stood at the counter. No one had walked in.

My brows furrowed. Shaking off the strange feeling creeping up my spine, I made my way toward the back, where Wooyoung and Hongjoong were eating their lunch. Something felt off. And I had a feeling I was about to find out what.

I gently ran my fingers through their soft fur, giving them a few affectionate pats before straightening up. The comforting warmth of the kitchen wrapped around me as I turned toward the oven, where the golden pies sat nestled inside. 

The rich, buttery aroma filled the air, mingling with the subtle sweetness of baked fruit. Through the glass window, I watched as the crusts slowly rose, turning a deep, inviting shade of amber. Tiny bubbles formed along the edges, a sign that the filling inside was thickening perfectly. The sight made my mouth water, a quiet sense of satisfaction settling in my chest as I anticipated pulling them out at just the right moment.

Moving to the other side of the kitchen, I reached for my gloves, preparing to work on the croissants—only to realize I was missing a few key ingredients. Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I made my way to the back, where I stored the frozen supplies.

"Wooyoung, can you keep an eye on the café?" I called. Wooyoung let out a soft meow, finishing his meal before trotting toward the front. Hongjoong, however, stayed behind, his golden eyes watching me from the floor. 

I chuckled, grabbing a small wooden bar to prop the walk-in fridge door open. Stepping into the freezing air, I shivered slightly as I scanned the shelves, grabbing two blocks of butter and a few other ingredients I would need later. A sudden gust of cold air sent a shiver down my spine as I adjusted my grip on the butter, turning to leave, when a sudden, sharp hiss echoed through the cold space, followed by the eerie screech of metal against metal.

My heart lurched, spinning so fast that it almost gave me whiplash, I watched in horror as the fridge door swung shut. The ingredients slipped from my hands as I lunged forward— But it was too late. 

The heavy door slammed closed with a resounding thud. My breath caught in my throat as I grabbed the handle and twisted it. It won’t budge and panic swelled in my chest. I twisted the handle again, harder this time. Nothing.

The cold air wrapped around me, seeping through my clothes as my breath came out in short, misty puffs. 

No, no, no—this wasn’t happening.

I had propped the door open. I was sure of it. I slammed my fist against the metal, the sound echoing in the confined space. "Anyone! Can someone hear me?!" My voice was sharp, edged with urgency. Outside, I could hear the faint hum of the café, the distant chatter of customers—so close yet completely oblivious to the fact that I was trapped.

The dim light flickered slightly, casting long shadows over the frozen shelves. My breath hitched, shortening as fear slowly crept in. Panic shot through me before I could think. My foot caught awkwardly against the cold tile, and a sharp jolt of pain shot up my ankle as I twisted it in an attempt to step back, the cold from the ground seeping through my clothes instantly. I winced, sucking in a sharp breath as I tried to push myself up, only to feel a dull ache radiating from my twisted ankle.

Something moved at the edge of my vision, making me panic even more. But instead of the threat my mind had conjured, a large, fluffy golden retriever trotted beside me, his pure boba eyes gazing up at me with quiet curiosity. His coat was slightly unkempt, his tail swishing lazily behind him. I blinked through the lingering sting in my ankle, my mind scrambling to process what I was seeing.

Where did he come from?

My mind suddenly had something to be distracted about, “W-Where did you come from?”

The golden retriever woof softly before turning the door as if showing obviously where he came from yet beyond that as I took a short realization. The café door chimed a while ago yet no new customer in sight— My pulse still thrummed from the lingering ache in my ankle as I stared at the golden retriever. 

“Was it you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The dog simply stuck his tongue out in acknowledgment, tilting his head as if studying my reaction. But I hadn’t heard paws against the floor. No scratch of nails, no soft padding of footsteps. And yet, here he was—walking in like he had belonged here all along. 

For a moment, I just stood there, staring. The logical part of my brain screamed that this didn’t make sense. No customer had brought a dog in. No stray had been lingering outside. And yet, this golden retriever had appeared out of nowhere, slipping into the fridge like a ghost.

A sudden chill prickled at my skin. My breath came out in uneven puffs as I turned toward the heavy door, still locked, hoping—praying—that someone would notice I had been gone for too long.

Fear crept through my body, cold and suffocating. The flickering lights cast erratic shadows, feeding the anxiety already clawing at my chest. My breath shortened, each inhale jagged, struggling against the growing tightness. The pressure built, making it harder to breathe, my vision blurring at the edges. Even as tears streamed down my cheeks, my body refused to cooperate. My fingers trembled as I gripped my pants, gasping for air, willing the panic to subside.

Then, warmth.

A gentle weight pressed against my side, grounding me. A soft whine broke through the haze of my spiraling thoughts. Blinking past the dizziness, I turned my head, he nudged me carefully, his body solid and warm against mine. His slightly unkempt coat brushed against my arm as he pressed closer, sensing my distress. A low, reassuring hum rumbled from his chest as he rested his head against my lap.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered—rescue dogs. Medical dogs trained to recognize anxiety and panic attacks.

Was he one of them?

Another soft whine, another nudge. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing urged me to match it. Slowly, shakily, I tried. Inhale. Exhale. The weight on my chest began to ease, just slightly.

I wasn’t alone.

The golden retriever stayed close, his warm weight grounding me as I focused on his steady breaths. Slowly, my own breathing evened out, the tightness in my chest loosening bit by bit. The dizziness faded, though my body still trembled with the aftershocks of panic.

Just as I was beginning to gather myself, the dog suddenly perked up. His tail gave a slow, gentle wag before he trotted off a few steps—only to return with something in his mouth.

The butter.

I blinked at him in disbelief as he carefully nudged it toward my injured ankle, his eyes gleaming with what I could only describe as triumph. A startled chuckle bubbled up in my throat. “Such a good boy,” I murmured, my voice hoarse from earlier.

He wagged his tail at the sound, as if pleased with himself.

As I reached out, my fingers sinking into his soft fur, he huffed in contentment and rested his head on my lap once again. I leaned against the cold door, exhaustion settling over me, but the warmth of his presence kept the lingering fear at bay. I absentmindedly combed my fingers through his slightly unkempt coat, finding comfort in the rhythmic motion.

Time slipped by and thirty minutes must have passed before a sudden rattle at the door made the retriever lift his head, ears twitching in alertness. A moment later, the door creaked open just enough for a familiar voice to break through the quiet.

“Noona!” Douyin rushed in the moment he spotted me, his eyes wide with concern. He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands hovering as if unsure where to check first.

“I’m okay,” I started to say, but the slight shift of my leg sent a sharp jolt of pain up my ankle. I sucked in a breath, a small hiss escaping before I could stop it. That was all it took before the golden retriever went over to my side, nudging my arm. I ruffled his fur, pain pumping through my legs,  “I’m okay, babe.”

The sound had barely left my lips before another set of hurried footsteps approached, "Twisted ankle?" Taehyun’s voice was calm but firm as he crouched beside me. I nodded, still a little breathless from the pain.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before glancing at Douyin. "We need to get her out of here. Can you walk at all?" I hesitated. The retriever, still beside me, let out a quiet huff and pressed his nose to my knee, as if he, too, was waiting for my answer.

I shake my head, “No I can’t.” 

The hospital room carried the sharp scent of antiseptic, softened by the faint traces of lavender from the fresh linens. My ankle, wrapped snugly in a bandage and resting on an ice pack, hadn’t swollen as much as usual, yet the dull ache served as a lingering reminder of the earlier panic. Despite the sterile surroundings, one thing remained unchanged.

The golden retriever hadn’t left my side, well technically, he sat just outside the hospital room doors, his ears perked and his deep, boba-like eyes watching over me. It was as if he had appointed himself my personal guardian.

I chuckled as I waved at him, amused by the way his tongue peeked out and his tail wagged excitedly at my acknowledgment. Near the door, Douyin stood with his arms crossed, observing my interaction with the dog before letting out a deep sigh.

"Okay, this golden dog here kept barking at us when the ambulance doors were about to close. And now, he's guarding you like you're his owner," he said, tilting his head as he eyed the retriever warily.

I sigh, “I am not sure but he could be lost or anything.” 

Taehyun hummed, his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall, eyes scanning the hallway. “He was also trapped in the freezer with you, wasn’t he?” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I’m not sure either.” glancing down at the retriever, his warm brown eyes filled with an unspoken familiarity.

“That’s strange,” Douyin muttered, rubbing his chin. “Most dogs would’ve panicked in that situation. But he stayed beside you the entire time?”

“He did,” I murmured, recalling the way his presence had kept me grounded in the freezing darkness. “It was like he knew I needed him there.” Taehyun exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable. “Then maybe he smelled something from you.”

Douyin scoffed. “Great. First, a freezer incident— you getting injured, and now a mystery dog that won’t leave your side. What’s next, we’re gonna adopt him?” 

“Okay, I was just being sarcastic!” Douyin exclaimed as he helped me into the wheelchair. I chuckled, glancing at the golden retriever, who sat casually by the car Taehyun had brought earlier, his tail thumping against the pavement.

“I didn’t say that,” I said, adjusting the blanket Taehyun had placed over my legs as he began pushing the wheelchair toward the car. “I just want to find out where he came from and return him to his owner.”

Douyin started the car, but his voice carried a knowing edge. “But will you?”

A sudden ache bloomed in my chest at the thought of returning the retriever to someone else. I sighed softly, stealing a glance at the dog, who sat beside me, patiently waiting for me to get into the car. His warm brown eyes held a silent understanding, almost as if he could sense the conflict in my heart.

Taehyun and Douyin must have noticed my change in expression. Douyin crouched to my level, placing a warm hand on my knee. “I don’t know what’s really going on with all of this—the dog, the freezer, that symbol on your wrist—but if you know something, I’ll help you.”

I smiled, reaching out to give his hand a grateful squeeze. “Thank you, Do,” I said softly.

Taehyun let out a sigh before squatting down as well, his expression serious yet familiar. “And whatever crazy shenanigans are happening in your lives, count me in. I have a feeling I’ll be needed here more than I thought.”

I gave his hand a small squeeze too. “Thank you, Taehyun.” Just then, the golden retriever suddenly hoisted himself up onto his hind legs and let out a soft bark, his ears perking up. We all chuckled at his adorable actions, the weight of the moment lifting ever so slightly.

The ride home is quiet, the hum of the car lulling me into a half-conscious haze. My eyes remain closed, my mind drifting, until a gentle nudge against my hand pulls me back. My lashes flutter open, and I find myself staring into a pair of warm, doe-like eyes. A soft chuckle escapes my lips as I thread my fingers through the golden retriever’s thick fur.

“How are you, baby?” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

He lets out a small squeak, shifting closer, pressing himself into me as if seeking comfort. With a deep sigh, he settles, his breaths evening out into the soft rhythm of sleep.

From the front seat, Douyin glances at us through the rearview mirror before speaking, “Do you think Min would like a temporary roommate?”

Beneath my touch, I feel the retriever twitch slightly, but my fingers continue their soothing strokes through his fur.

I exhale a quiet laugh. “He already has a playmate he looks forward to seeing every day. Maybe having a temporary one will help him socialize more—see more dogs besides the two felines ruling the house.”

Taehyun, seated beside me, hums in agreement. “That’s actually great for Mingi, though.”

The mention of my husky’s name sends a jolt through the retriever. His head shoots up, eyes darting around the car in search of the familiar presence. I startle for a moment, fearing I may have accidentally hurt him, but then I see it—the flicker of recognition, the way he looks at me with silent curiosity, I smile, rubbing his ears gently. “You’ll meet him soon,” I assure him. “I think you two are going to get along just fine.”

Yet when I observe his ears and body language, he seems anxious. 

“What? Is he okay, noona?” Douyin’s voice is sharp with concern, but I can’t bring myself to answer. My mouth hangs open, words caught in my throat as I watch the dog whimper, his wide eyes scanning his surroundings—searching, desperate.

The unease thickens in the car, the tension palpable as we pull up to the apartment. Douyin parked the car and when Taehyun opened the door to help me out, the moment he saw the doors swing open, the retriever bolted.

“Hey! Don’t go!” I call out, my voice laced with panic. But he’s already gone, a golden blur disappearing into the night.

A sharp jolt of fear surges through me. I try to move, to chase after him, but the throbbing pain in my ankle anchors me in place. I sink down in frustration, helplessly watching as he vanishes down the street.

Douyin, seeing my distress, doesn’t waste a second. His seatbelt is off in an instant, and without hesitation, he’s out the door, his footsteps pounding against the pavement as he takes off after the runaway dog.

“Douyin!” I called out, my voice strained with worry, “I’ll be back!” he shouts over his shoulder, his figure disappearing into the dimly lit street.

Even with Douyin running after the dog, my heart refuses to settle. It beats wildly against my ribs, the anxiety pressing in like a vice. My fingers curl into the fabric of my clothes as I stare after them, a sense of helplessness washing over me. 

Taehyun’s warm hand finds mine, a grounding touch against the rising tide of panic. “Hey,” he says softly, his gaze steady. “Douyin will find him. Let’s get you inside first.”

I hesitate, my eyes flickering toward the street one last time. But the dull ache in my ankle reminds me that I’m in no condition to chase after anyone. With a reluctant sigh, I nod. “Okay.”

Taehyun moves swiftly, helping me into my wheelchair before guiding me toward our apartment. The air is cool against my skin, but my mind is too preoccupied to register the chill. As we roll up to the door, it swings open to reveal Bangchan’s familiar, ever-cheerful face. His smile, however, falters the moment his gaze drops to my injured ankle. His brows knit together in alarm. “What happened?”

I wave him off with a tired chuckle. “Accidents happen at work.”

He exhales sharply, clearly unconvinced, but steps aside to let us in. “You seriously need to be more careful, your babies being surprised to find a stranger in their territory,” he mutters, giving Taehyun a nod in greeting as he holds the door open wider. 

I chuckle, “Mingi loves you, Bangchan.” 

“Undoubted.”

The second I’m inside, a blur of movement streaks across the room. Wooyoung and Hongjoong, my two beloved felines, leap from their cat houses, their tails flicking as they meow in concern. Mingi, my husky, is not far behind. He jolts upright at the sight of me, his ears perked before he launches himself forward, nearly knocking into the wheelchair in his excitement.

“Okay, okay, I missed you guys too,” I laugh, reaching out to scratch behind Mingi’s ears as he presses his face on my uninjured leg. Taehyun carefully settles me onto the couch, ensuring my ankle is elevated before stepping back. I lean into the cushions, the exhaustion from the day creeping into my bones, weighing down my limbs.

Bangchan plops onto the armrest beside me, arms crossed. “Good thing I was already on babysitting duty for your little monsters. I got the call last minute when you were rushed to the hospital.”

I smirk, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d probably be buried under a pile of fur and bad decisions,” he quips, nudging my shoulder lightly. A soft laugh escapes my lips. Despite the playful banter, a heaviness lingers in the air. My thoughts drift back to the golden retriever, to Douyin still out there searching for him. My fingers tighten around Mingi’s fur as I murmur under my breath, “Please find him.”

Taehyun notices the way she shifts slightly, her breathing evening out, the exhaustion finally catching up to her. Mingi rests his head gently on her lap, while the two felines, Wooyoung and Hongjoong, curl up beside her, their small bodies rising and falling with each soft breath. Bangchan watches the scene unfold, his gaze lingering on the quiet serenity surrounding her.

He exhales, a knowing look crossing his face. These animals aren’t just pets to her—they’re something more. A connection that runs deeper than mere companionship. A bond woven by fate.

A destiny that slowly builds itself up, piece by piece.

Sensing the shift in the air, Taehyun nudges Bangchan toward the door. Without a word, Bangchan gets the message. He moves to grab his bag, pausing only to give a small wave to the resting trio before following Taehyun out of the apartment.

As Taehyun closes the door behind them, he turns to Bangchan. “Thanks for taking care of her babies. And sorry for the last-minute call.”

Bangchan scoffs, slapping Taehyun’s back lightly as they walk toward the elevator. “It’s nothing, man. Besides, taking care of fur babies isn’t exactly new to me.” Taehyun chuckles at that, but as they approach the elevator, something in Bangchan clicks in his mind. His brows knit together. “Wait… where’s Douyin?”

Taehyun lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Well… He ran after a dog, and I don’t know where they are now. I’ll have to go out and look for them.”

Bangchan frowns, his curiosity piqued. “A dog? She adopted another one?”

Taehyun shakes his head. “No. It’s… complicated.” The elevator doors slide open, and they step inside. The air between them grows heavier as Taehyun continues, his voice lowered this time.

“The golden retriever was found inside the walk-in freezer… with her. In her café. It—” he hesitates, piecing the words together, “—it was like it was protecting her. Like it knew something. And to be honest, I have my suspicions…”

Bangchan’s eyes narrow, his mind working quickly. “That’s weird. And what’s even weirder is that she keeps meeting these animals—like it’s some kind of pattern.”

Taehyun nodded, agreeing with him. He leans against the cool metal of the elevator wall, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “Think about it. Wooyoung appeared on the night she finished her shift in the cafe that marked her anniversary since opening the cafe. Hongjoong? She met him almost a year ago in the same place where she met Wooyoung. Then Mingi. And now, a golden retriever just conveniently shows up when she’s in trouble?”

Bangchan shakes his head, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. “Man, you and your suspicions.”

Taehyun smirks, but deep down, he knows Bangchan is thinking the same thing. Then—almost like a silent cue, a shift in the air—they both turn to each other at the same time.

“Don’t you think—” Bangchan starts.

“They’re…” Taehyun trails off.

Silence hangs between them, thick and charged. Then, as if fate itself had been listening, the small monitor above the elevator doors flickers to life. A commercial fades out, replaced by breaking news. Their gazes snap to the screen just as the images of missing idols flash across it. The breath in their lungs stills. A strange, sinking realization settles deep in their bones. Something isn’t right. Reality just became far more complicated than they ever imagined.

Douyin bent over, hands braced on his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His chest heaved as he exhaled loudly, trying to steady himself. Sweat trickled down his temple, gathering at his jaw before sliding onto his already damp neck. The fabric of his shirt clung uncomfortably to his back, soaked through from the relentless chase. He pushed back his messy hair, strands sticking to his forehead as he scanned the dimly lit street.

He had been running after the golden retriever for at least an hour, weaving through alleys and side streets, only to lose sight of it when it turned a sharp corner. Now, his legs ached, and frustration gnawed at his stomach. He leaned against a cold cobalt wall, pressing his palm against it for support as he reached into his pocket for his phone to call for his friend.

Before he could dial, something tugged at his pants. He froze.

The golden retriever had returned, its mouth gently latched onto the fabric of his jeans, insistently pulling him forward. Its eyes, deep pools of urgency, flickered with something that made Douyin's heartbeat quicken.

“Woah, woah—easy, boy,” he murmured, but the dog didn’t let up. Instead, it tugged harder, urging him toward the shadows.

Douyin hesitated as they entered a dark alley, a place where the glow of a distant streetlamp barely stretched. The air was damp, thick with the scent of rain-soaked pavement and something faintly metallic. He pulled out his phone, its screen casting a bluish glow over the cracked concrete, but the retriever kept leading.

Then, it stopped.

Douyin followed the dog’s gaze—and his breath hitched.

At the far end of the alley, nearly swallowed by darkness, sat a small cardboard box. The golden retriever whimpered before lowering itself onto its haunches, nudging the edge of the box with its snout.

Douyin’s pulse pounded in his ears as he approached. His trembling fingers tightened around his phone, using the dim light to illuminate the contents.

A tiny, frail puppy lay curled inside. Its fur—what little was left of it—was patchy and matted, its ribs faintly visible beneath sickly skin. The rise and fall of its chest were barely perceptible, but as the light hit it, a weak shudder ran through its small body. It was alive. Barely.

Douyin swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to the retriever. “Is he your brother?” His voice came out softer than he expected, almost breaking at the end. The retriever didn’t answer, but it didn’t need to. Instead, it pressed its snout against Douyin’s hand, a silent plea. Save him.

Douyin’s fingers curled into a fist before relaxing. His gaze darted between the trembling puppy and the loyal retriever sitting beside it, eyes filled with desperate hope.

“I’ll save him… good boy.” His voice was steady this time, filled with quiet resolve. The golden retriever let out a soft bark, as if in relief.

Carefully, Douyin adjusted the box, making sure the frail pup was as secure as possible before lifting it into his arms. The retriever padded closely beside him, watching his every move, trusting him.

Douyin took a deep breath and stepped back into the light. There was no way he was going to let the little one die tonight.

That night, Douyin rushed toward Taehyun’s veterinary clinic, his heart hammering against his ribs. The golden retriever ran beside him, ears pinned back, eyes filled with silent urgency. At the same time, Taehyun was already on his way to find Douyin, his phone gripped tightly in his hand as he relayed instructions to his nurses.

By the time Douyin arrived, the clinic was brightly lit, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling the air. Inside, Taehyun and his team were already gathered around the examination table, carefully assessing the frail puppy. The golden retriever sat rigidly by Douyin’s side, ears twitching as he let out a soft whimper, his gaze locked onto his injured sibling.

Douyin swallowed hard and crouched down, running a steady hand along the retriever’s fur. "He’ll be okay," he murmured, his voice quieter, reassuring. "You did a good job rescuing your brother."

The retriever didn’t move at first, his body tense. But after a moment, he nudged his snout against Douyin’s wrist and exhaled shakily, as if absorbing his words. Douyin let out a small chuckle, continuing to run his fingers through the dog’s soft coat.

“Hey, man…”

Douyin turned at the sound of Taehyun’s voice. He gave the retriever one last pat before carefully lifting the exhausted dog onto the clinic's couch. As he approached Taehyun, he caught the relieved sigh leaving the vet’s lips.

“How’s the pup?” Douyin asked, glancing past him toward the operation room.

Taehyun rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze briefly drifting toward the doorway. “The little guy’s stable. There was an infection around his right leg, but it’s healing well. He was probably left out there for days, maybe even longer.” He sighed, glancing at Douyin. “How did you even find him?”

Douyin exhaled, his eyes shifting to the retriever lying on the couch. “I didn’t.” He glanced back at Taehyun, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “He did.”

Taehyun’s expression faltered. His lips parted slightly before he turned to look at the retriever in silent astonishment. “You’re telling me he led you to him?”

Douyin nodded.

Taehyun’s fingers curled slightly at his sides, his mind racing. His conversation with Bangchan earlier—about the strange way animals seemed to find him, to trust him, to appear in his life as if drawn by some invisible force—crept into his thoughts. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Not yet. But now, with everything unfolding like this, with Douyin neck-deep in an investigation that seemed to twist further into the unknown, he had no choice.

He let out a slow, measured breath. “Do, I know how much you love your sister and all…”

Douyin raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift. “Are you asking for my permission to date her?”

Taehyun shot him an incredulous look. “I mean, I was planning to at some point, but—” He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.” He hesitated for a second before finally meeting Douyin’s gaze, his voice dropping to something more serious. “You guys don’t know where these animals keep coming from… but I think I might have an idea.”

Douyin stared at Taehyun, “What is it?”

Douyin sat in his dimly lit office, the soft hum of the overhead lamp casting long shadows across the stacks of reports and photographs sprawled before him. His fingers hovered over the latest file—eight new names, eight more disappearances added to an already unsolved case.

The weight of it settled in his chest.

The case had gone cold for years, whispers of missing idols fading into the background of newer scandals and distractions. But now, the sudden reemergence of these disappearances—paired with the fresh addition of eight more victims—had forced the justice system to take a second look. And for reasons still unclear to him, Douyin had been assigned to piece everything together.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as his thoughts ran wild. It was unlike him to be pulled from the courtroom into something this intricate. Prosecutors do investigate but—they build cases, argue in court, and lay out evidence prepared by detectives. Yet, here he was, combing through inconsistencies, looking for a pattern that others had missed.

Douyin’s eyes narrowed as he skimmed the reports again, this time more carefully. The dates, the locations—at first, they seemed scattered, random. But when he laid them out on a timeline, something clicked. The disappearances weren’t as sporadic as they seemed. There was a rhythm. A strange, almost ritualistic spacing between them—months apart, nearly a year apart in some cases.

It reminded him of something.

Or rather, someone.

His fingers drummed against the desk as his mind flicked to his older sister. For the past months, she had been adopting animals—abandoned pets, two that had wandered into her life as if drawn to her.

And there was something else.

His gaze dropped to his own wrist before he slowly looked toward the framed photo of his sister on the shelf. He had ignored it before, brushed it off as coincidence, but now he couldn't shake the unease creeping up his spine.

That mark. That strange symbol that had appeared on her skin. It was similar to the group that she had been idolizing for years before their disappearance.

At first, she’d hidden it, dismissing it as nothing more than an odd birthmark or a smudge of ink. But Douyin had seen it more than once, traced in faint, intricate lines, sometimes more pronounced than before. He had never questioned it—until now.

His heart pounded. Was there a connection?

The rational part of him told him no, that his sister had nothing to do with this. But the prosecutor in him, the one who thrived on uncovering truths buried beneath layers of deception, knew better than to ignore a lead—no matter how personal it felt.

He reached for his phone, fingers hesitating over the screen before dialing. The call rang twice before a familiar voice picked up.

"Douyin? What's wrong?"

He swallowed. "… I need to ask you something." The case had just become more complicated than he had ever imagined.

MEET THE CUTIE PROSECUTOR:

TAGLIST: @soso59love-blog . @yoongisgirl69 . @forever-atiny . @ateezswonderland . @fr34k4c1dr41n . @breadedloafs . @k1xiara . @nkryuki . @beabatiny . @berryguks . @miniverse-zen . @fight-me-uwu . @xh01bri . @eclipwze . @blue-angel24 . @nkryuki . @matchahintonagar . @asyamonet22 . @szakias . @sanaegi . @notyaelly . @wolviejex . @bby-boo4u . @popcatx0

[miaoumeowmiaw]

ST5 MAY LEAKS

Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome

Fremde, etranger, stranger

Glukich zu sehen, je suis enchante, happy to see you

Bleibe, reste, stay

Originally collected from multiple sources part of, and in contact with, Minou in the months leading up to May, these are the published leaks and conversations from that time. According to other leakers, this information was ~80% true and likely to have come from real extras, including military staff. Today, we have full confirmation for the vast majority. Screenshots from the time are publicly available, and as such will not be provided in this post.

Keep in mind some information may be omitted, as these leaks are not part of the recent batch. Feel free to contact The Cat's Meow or Minou directly to learn more!

PARTIAL NURSING EXTRA INTERVIEW

"Hey! I'm really sorry for not having talked much. There is a lot of work here. I have coffee on hand and [more information]! Personally, the filming is scattered. The military personnel, but especially [us] nurses, are recurring but do not play an incredible role, at least for our cohort. There are 2 [...] good guys and bad guys. My group is the [good cohort], we are generally in the background and we [...] take care of civilians and [the main] actors.

Extras for the military are sent in [shifts], so if the accounts of fans have not posted a huge ad saying 'EXTRAS FINALLY ARRIVED IN ATLANTA', that is why. It's something that they have done in all of the filming sessions. It is way too much work to have everyone here at the same time, and [we also experience] problems with travel and confidentiality.

[...] Most of us are leaving the area when we finish the work for the day. Some come in [only to] return home. I am staying in a motel with a handful of other extras.

The leaks on the time skip are true, but I think they have been exaggerated. It is [limited to the first episode] and taken slowly, given that we are moving from one season to another. It stops in autumn. The aesthetic of the season is similar to the first season [and] there are no flashy colours, if that can make someone happy. In fact, I think [it is] duller than season 1. It is very suitable for what [will be occurring]."

FULL LEAK RUNDOWN INTERVIEW

Was there any mention of the Upside Down duos or confirmed mid-late season pairings?

"The season is a lot more community-orientated. The 'pairings' they mentioned were small groups."

Did they confirm Mike's injury?

" [...] Almost all of the characters get hurt in some way [...] They have scratches, injured arms and legs with visual limps and gashes. One character has a deep wound near their midsection. There is a conversation about health and sickness [caused by the] Upside Down particles and environment, and how that might put people at [higher] risk."

Did they have solid information outside of the hospital, specifically regarding character arcs?

"They confirmed the time skip leaks, but it was blown out of proportion, as well as the Upside Down sicknesses. The parents, mainly Karen, have an increase in screen time because of [the sicknesses], and eventually become involved with the supernatural plot. There is a 'Byler' moment where the two [...] scout out [an area] together."

What additional information do you have?

"A large amount of the season focuses on the real world and Hawkins. The aesthetic and pacing is similar to season 1 and 2, [and it is] set around fall. [Hawkins] has aspects of quarantining. The hospital crew were sent to Hawkins by the military, [however they] abandoned those duties to help properly assist civilians. They are snuffed out eventually."

What are they unable to tell you?

"Extras almost never have the full script, and might not even have their own, unless [they have] speaking lines [...] I would not be shocked if parts were cut out."

How would you better describe Mike's arc?

"[...] His arc is separate, in the sense that he is not talking about his girlfriend every 5 seconds [like in season 3 and 4]. It's focused on self discovery [...] he is trying to get back to normalcy and figure out what [had] changed in him. He spends [most of the season] with Will, and there is more distance between him and El. [...] The vibes are similar to [those in] season 4."

Did you hear anything about Will?

"No. All I really know is that Will takes a leadership role because of his knowledge [and experience with] the Upside Down. They reacted positively to the rumours about Will having nightmares or discomfort. [I was only told about] 2 conversations [between] Mike and Will, and both of them are about health and well being. [It's possible that they are] in the same scene, with a transition between public and somewhere more secluded. The first is about the health of other people, and the second is about Mike and Will individually."

Have you heard anything in relation to the farm?

"They are not involved in those scenes and plots, but the characters consider heading farther from Hawkins because of everything that is going on with the military and gate exposure [...] It is not related to any Upside Down threat initially."

Does Will blame himself?

"Will takes on a [...] leadership role because of his experience with the Upside Down and general maturity. A chunk of his plot is him feeling [as if] he has a responsibility to support everybody else, and [he has] some negative emotions brought out when that does not go perfect. Not that the rest of the characters are happy, but nothing is explicitly said or shown except for Will and some other characters. There are a handful of remarks made about his responses to events."

How do these negative emotions contribute to the stories angst?

"The entire season is doom and gloom, but for Will, everything is discreet. [...] His relationships are strained. He lets his trauma take the wheel from what I'm hearing, [feeling] on edge early in the season, and [this] turns into snappy dialogue post-harm. There are comments from other characters that bring up and question this, specifically El, Steve and Robin. [There are] no destroyed friendships because of it [...] but it is uncomfortable."

INCOMPLETE SPACE RECORDINGS

There are multiple flashbacks throughout the season.

There is an angst parallel to season 2.

When asked about the church, a burning cross was presented.

El does not live in Hopper's cabin or Mike's house.

Will experience nightmares and trances.

Vecna targets his victims in a different way.

Vecna targets Holly.

Karen does not die.

Ted dies.

El does not attend school or live close to Hawkins.

Nobody knows the ending.

Will falls from a tree and the visual switches from the Upside Down to the real world.

Flashbacks, "false flashbacks", visions, beliefs, and control.

Characters are sleep deprived.

The scream was not Jonathan.

There is a conversation about nightmares.

Leakers do know multiple interactions and pairings but refuse to share them.

Jonathan, Robin, Hopper and Erica frequently get screen time.

Nobody knows the endgames.

El visits the mindscape.

There is a false sacrifice or loss.

There are multiple fight scenes with Vecna.

There are both "Byler" and "Mileven" scenes.

El and Max interact.

The flashbacks are only of the Upside Down.

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 || 𝚊𝚞𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which aubrey needed a little sweetness in her life

The bell above the bakery door jingles with a soft chime—a sound you’ve grown used to, one that usually signals your regulars or the occasional out-of-town tourist who heard about “the best croissants in Minneapolis.” You barely look up from your mixing bowl, wrist deep in a batch of cinnamon roll dough, when the door opens.

But something—or maybe someone—makes you glance up.

She's tall. Taller than most people who duck into your cozy bakery on the corner of Washington Avenue. Dressed in simple joggers, a Lynx hoodie, and a beanie tugged low over her curls, she doesn’t immediately draw attention to herself. But her eyes scan the space with quiet curiosity, like she’s taking in every detail—the chalkboard menu, the pastel walls, the soft jazz humming from the speakers, and the faint smell of cardamom and vanilla that hangs in the air.

She smiles at no one in particular, and your stomach flips before your brain catches up.

She’s new.

And she’s beautiful.

“Hi,” you call from behind the counter, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel. “First time here?”

She nods, stepping a little closer. “Yeah. I just moved here a couple weeks ago. Trying to get to know the city.”

“Well,” you say, brushing flour from your apron as you step out from behind the counter, “you found the best bakery in Minneapolis, so I’d say you’re off to a solid start.”

She laughs—a quiet, warm sound that settles somewhere in your chest. “Good to know. I was just walking around and this place caught my eye.”

You glance at the sign hanging in the window. The hand-written one that says Homemade. From the heart. It’s always drawn in a few romantics.

“Well, I’m glad you came in,” you say, then extend a hand. “I’m Y/N. Owner, baker, and occasionally the person who burns the caramel.”

She laughs again, and this time it’s brighter. “Aubrey. Griffin.”

You pause. The name rings a bell. Slowly, your eyes flick to her hoodie.

“Oh… like that Aubrey Griffin?” you ask, teasingly, motioning to the Lynx logo.

She shrugs, a little sheepish. “That’s me. Just got drafted.”

“Congrats,” you say, genuinely impressed. “You’re gonna kill it here. Minneapolis is crazy about the Lynx.”

“I’m starting to see that,” she says, glancing around at the few other patrons who are now subtly peeking over their coffee cups in recognition.

You offer her a seat by the window and slide a small menu toward her. “Here, sit. Take your time. First coffee’s on me—rookie discount.”

“Dangerous offer,” she murmurs, eyes scanning the menu. “I could make this a regular stop.”

You smile, not daring to hope yet, but liking the way she says it.

“I’d be okay with that.”

She comes back.

And the day after that.

Always alone, always with the same gentle smile and shy “hi” as she walks in. Sometimes she tries a new pastry. Sometimes she brings a book. Once, she shows up with a dog-eared journal and scribbles things down between bites of a lemon scone.

You learn she likes blueberry muffins the best. You learn she played at UConn. You learn that the adjustment to pro life is a little overwhelming, but that Minneapolis feels like home already—"because of little places like this."

You try not to read too much into that. But your heart does cartwheels anyway.

A few weeks passed.

It’s pouring. Like sheets of rain slamming against the glass, lightning streaking the sky kind of pouring. You think it’ll be a slow day, so you start closing up early—just you and the sound of Billie Holiday crooning through the speakers.

Until the door swings open again.

Aubrey. Soaked to the bone.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she says, a little breathless, drenched hoodie clinging to her frame.

You rush to grab a towel. “Are you crazy? You could’ve called!”

“I didn’t have your number,” she grins, teeth chattering.

You blink, towel in hand, realizing she’s right—and also that she wanted it.

“Okay,” you say, handing her the towel. “Sit. I’ll get you something warm.”

You return with a mug of hot chocolate and a warm apple tart, sliding them across the table. She’s already taken off the wet hoodie, left in a plain white tee that does little to hide the muscle in her arms. You try not to look.

You fail a little.

She catches you.

You both laugh softly.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, taking a sip. “I think this place is becoming my safe space.”

Your stomach flips again. “I’m honored.”

“Don’t tell the team,” she teases. “They already think I’m quiet and weird.”

“You’re not weird,” you say softly. “You’re… warm. Gentle.”

She tilts her head, eyes searching yours.

“No one’s called me that before.”

“Well,” you say, heart racing, “they should.”

There’s a long pause.

And then—

“Can I have your number?”

You grin. “Took you long enough.”

After that, the bakery becomes your thing.

She shows up almost every day. Sometimes just for coffee, sometimes to talk, sometimes just to sit quietly near you while you knead dough. It becomes your favorite routine.

One morning, she brings you flowers. “For the best baker in Minneapolis,” she says, a little pink in the cheeks.

Another night, she invites you to her first home game and beams when she sees you in the stands, cheering louder than anyone else.

It’s all soft touches, lingering looks, nervous grins over cinnamon buns and café lights. She walks you home after late closings. You learn she’s more of a touch-starved romantic than she lets on.

You brush flour off her cheek one day and her breath catches.

You both pretend not to notice.

You’re sitting on the floor of the bakery after closing—too tired to move, covered in powdered sugar and laughing over a mutual love for 2000s rom-coms. She leans in, hair falling in front of her eyes, and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“Y/N,” she says, voice a whisper, “I think I’ve been falling for you since the day I walked in.”

You freeze. Look up. She’s so close. So soft. So Aubrey.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” you whisper.

And then—finally—she kisses you.

Warm and slow. Gentle but sure. The kind of kiss that tastes like honey and home.

You lock the bakery and walk out hand in hand.

The city lights glow. The rain has stopped.

And you swear, with her beside you, everything smells just a little sweeter.

[worlds-we-write]

Sweet on You

Chapter 3: Burned at the Edges

pairing: Jackson!joel miller x baker!reader

summary: Things are changing in Jackson — the whispers, the looks, the way safety doesn’t feel quite as solid anymore. But when old fear resurfaces and quiet strength isn’t enough, she learns who’s really standing beside her when it matters most.

WC: 4.3K

tags: Joel Miller x Reader, Jackson Era, Age Gap, Protective Joel, Reader Has Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attack, Past Abuse, Angst with Comfort, Joel Fights For Her, Emotional Intimacy, Slow Burn

Series Masterlist

The bakery smells like cinnamon and brown sugar.

Like it always does.

The ovens are warm, the sourdough has just finished its second rise, and the front display is already half-empty from the morning rush. It should feel like any other day — comforting, quiet, routine.

But it doesn’t.

You can feel it the second the bell jingles.

The first customer — someone you’ve served a dozen times before — lingers too long at the counter. Doesn’t make eye contact. Offers a tight, polite smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. When you pass her the scone, her fingers brush yours, and she pulls back too quickly.

“Thanks,” she says — too soft, too clipped.

She drops her coins into the jar and hurries out.

You blink, confused. Then shake it off.

Maybe she’s just cold. Maybe she’s in a rush. Maybe she’s—

The next one’s worse.

An older man who usually greets you by name steps inside, gives a casual nod… and doesn’t say a word beyond his order. No banter. No “morning, sweetheart.” Just:

“Loaf of rye.”

You wrap it. Smile. “Fresh batch just came out. Still warm.”

“S’fine.”

He leaves the coins and walks out without another glance.

This time, your chest tightens.

It keeps happening. One after the other. Familiar faces that suddenly feel distant. Too quiet. Too aware. As if something about you is louder now — and they’re pretending not to notice.

Or pretending it’s not their business.

You catch it fully about halfway through the morning, just behind the curtain that separates the kitchen from the front room. You hear it — two women by the register.

“I heard she’s staying with him now.” “Joel Miller?” “Mmhmm.” “Well… I guess everyone needs a warm bed.” Laughter.

You freeze.

The sheet of parchment you were rolling out crinkles under your grip. You don’t move. You don’t breathe.

You know they don’t mean to be cruel. Not exactly.

But they are.

And you feel it deep.

You step back into the kitchen, hands trembling, and press your palms to the cool metal counter. Try to breathe. Try to focus.

You’ve lived through worse than gossip.

You’ve lived through him.

But the weight of their words — casual, sharp-edged, smug — makes something twist in your gut.

Because this isn’t just about you.

It’s about Joel now, too.

And maybe worse than being ignored… is being noticed for the wrong reasons.

You manage to hold it together until the front bell jingles again and the door shuts behind your last customer.

You slide the tray into the warmer with steady hands, smile pinned to your face until the curtain falls behind you and you’re safely out of sight.

And then it hits.

Your chest tightens. Stomach knots. Breath stutters.

You grip the edge of the prep table, fingers digging into the wood. The air feels thick in your lungs. Like you’re breathing through flour. Like everyone out there saw something on you — a stain, a mark, a weakness — and now you can’t scrape it off.

“Everyone needs a warm bed.”

The words echo in your head. Sticky and cruel.

Your ex used to say things like that. Whisper them in your ear after fights. After bruises. After you cried.

Used up. Not worth keeping. Just a hole to keep warm.

You feel your knees wobble.

You sit down hard on the stool by the sink, hands shaking.

You press your palms against your temples and breathe. Try to ground yourself. The bakery is safe. The bakery is yours. Joel’s voice is in your head from last night: You’re not too much. You’re mine.

You whisper it to yourself.

“You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.”

You don’t cry. Not really. Just shake. Just fold a little inward.

And then you hear it — the familiar creak of the door. Boots on tile.

“Hey,” comes Joel’s voice, slow and low. “Didn’t see you out front. You alright?”

You freeze.

Wipe your face with your sleeve.

“Yeah,” you say too fast. Too bright. “Just needed a break. It’s been… busy.”

Joel steps into view.

He sees you perched on that little stool, hands still trembling slightly in your lap. Your smile — practiced and a little too tight. Your apron wrinkled like you’d been clutching it in your fists.

He doesn’t call you out.

Doesn’t say you’re lying.

Joel crouches in front of you, steady as ever. One hand on your knee. The other braced lightly on the edge of the prep table. He doesn’t push. Doesn’t rush.

He just waits.

You want to tell him.

You want to say: They’re talking. They’re looking at me like I’m a dirty secret. Like I’m not good enough for you.

But the words won’t come. They get stuck somewhere behind your teeth — tangled up with years of silence, and the voice in your head that still tells you it’s better not to need anyone at all.

You force a smile.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Joel’s eyes narrow. Not unkind — just sharp. He sees straight through it.

“Did something happen?”

“No. Just a busy morning. That’s all.”

He watches you for another second, then nods slowly. But he doesn’t let go of your knee.

“You been sleepin’?”

You nod.

“Eatin’?”

Another nod. Less convincing.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you home tonight?”

That one hits harder.

You pause.

“I think I just… need some quiet. That’s all.”

Joel’s jaw flexes — just once. A tiny flicker of something that looks like worry.

But he doesn’t fight you.

Doesn’t tell you what to do.

Just nods again, slow and deliberate.

“You call me,” he says quietly. “If anything feels off. Anything at all.”

“I will.”

You won’t.

You both know it.

Joel stands. Squeezes your knee gently before letting go. Then leans down, presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then he leaves.

You stay on the stool long after the door closes behind him.

The lunch rush is gone.

You’re wiping down the front counter when the bell chimes again — softer this time, not frantic or fast. The way it sounds when someone walks in with purpose.

Maria.

She’s not in a rush. Not armed like she usually is when she’s making her rounds. No clipboard today, no radio chatter echoing from her shoulder. Just a heavy coat, a wool scarf, and a look in her eyes you recognize too well.

She’s here for you.

“Hey,” she says casually. “Got any of those honey oat loaves left?”

You force a smile, reaching behind the counter. “One.”

She nods, walking slowly toward the display, eyes skimming the shelves but not really seeing them.

“It’s quieter in here than usual,” she murmurs.

“It’s been like that all morning,” you say, placing the bread in a paper bag. “Weather, probably.”

She tilts her head slightly. “Mm. Or maybe Jackson’s gossip mill just needed something new to chew on.”

You freeze, just for a second. Then slide the bag across the counter.

“Three credits,” you say.

Maria pulls the coins from her pocket, slow and deliberate. Sets them down one by one.

“You know,” she says, voice still soft, “I’ve seen a lot of things change around here. People. Alliances. Reputations.”

You say nothing.

She picks up the bag. Doesn’t move toward the door.

“You and Joel — it’s not my business. And for the record, I don’t think anyone decent gives a shit.”

You shift on your feet, throat tight.

Maria leans forward slightly, voice dropping.

“But I also know what it looks like when a woman starts shrinking into herself. Starts looking over her shoulder again. Starts pretending she’s okay when she’s walking around like she’s holding her breath.”

You blink fast. Swallow.

“If someone’s making you feel unsafe,” she says carefully, “you need to tell me.”

“I’m fine,” you say quickly. Too quickly.

Maria stares at you a beat longer.

Then:

“Just remember what we built this place for, alright? Jackson’s not perfect. But we don’t protect abusers here.”

That hits.

Hard.

You nod, barely.

She backs off then — gives you space.

“If you want to talk… or you want someone else to say it for you — I’ll be around.”

You manage a small, whispered, “Thanks.”

Maria gives you one last look — unreadable, but not unkind — then leaves with her bread.

You don’t breathe again until the door shuts behind her.

The bakery is dark when you lock up.

You stand by the door for a second, keys in your hand, listening to the wind whistle down Main Street. It’s quiet tonight. Still. The kind of quiet that would’ve comforted you, once.

Now it feels like something waiting.

You glance toward the back room, where the radio sits on the shelf near your flour bins. Joel’s voice lives there. Solid. Steady. Always willing.

You call me. If anything feels off. Anything at all.

Your feet move before you even think about it.

You step inside, flick the little lamp on, and wrap your hand around the radio.

It’s warm from the oven heat still lingering in the room. Familiar.

You press your thumb to the button — just lightly. Not enough to click.

“Joel…”

You don’t say it. Just think it.

You imagine what he’d say. How fast he’d be here. How angry he’d be if he knew you were even considering walking home alone through the back path.

But that’s the thing.

He’d come.

And you’d feel safe.

And then you’d feel weak for needing it.

You stare at the radio for another few seconds, then exhale sharply and set it down — harder than you mean to. The plastic rattles against the shelf.

“I’m fine,” you whisper to the empty room.

Then you turn off the light.

And step out into the dark.

You pull your coat tighter around you as you step out of the bakery and into the dark.

The cold bites at your cheeks, the air sharp and dry. Snow crunches beneath your boots, and the lamps overhead flicker with a low hum, casting long shadows across the quiet path.

This street used to feel safe.

It still is, technically — Jackson’s not like the world outside. There are rules. Guards. Curfews. Everyone plays their part to keep things in order.

But tonight?

Tonight it feels like something’s watching.

You walk faster.

The main street would’ve been the smarter choice — well-lit, even this late, with a few folks still moving around the square. But you told Joel you needed space. You told yourself you’d be fine. So you took the shortcut.

The alley behind the town’s supply sheds is narrow but clean, lined with stacked crates and the back doors of shops you know by heart.

You’ve walked it a hundred times.

But tonight every footstep echoes.

Every creak of wood sounds like a warning.

You tell yourself it’s in your head. That it’s just a long day, gossip getting under your skin, Maria’s words bouncing around in your ribs. You’re tired. That’s all.

Still, you slip your keys between your fingers — just in case.

Halfway down the alley, you pause.

You thought you heard—

A footstep?

Maybe.

You glance behind you.

Nothing.

You start walking again, faster now. The alley curves slightly at the end, toward the fence that runs along the greenhouse.

Almost home.

Almost—

You round the corner.

And stop.

He’s standing there.

Leaning against the brick, arms crossed, one boot kicked back against the wall. Like he’s been waiting. Like this isn’t the first time he’s done this.

Your ex.

The one who never yells. Who doesn’t need to yell. Who smiles while he makes you feel small. Who looks at you now like he never stopped being allowed to.

Your stomach drops.

You don’t run.

You don’t speak.

You just freeze.

You freeze mid-step.

He pushes off the wall like he’s got all the time in the world. Like you came to him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says — voice too smooth, too familiar. “Funny runnin’ into you out here.”

You don’t answer.

Your fingers tighten around your keys, hidden in your coat pocket, the edges biting into your palm.

“Thought maybe you were avoidin’ me,” he continues, stepping forward. “That true?”

You take a half-step back.

But there’s nowhere to go. Behind you is darkness and snow. In front of you is a man who already knows how to make you feel trapped with just a tone of voice.

“Heard you been spendin’ time with Joel Miller,” he says, smile curling in a way that turns your stomach. “Didn’t think he liked broken things.”

You flinch — visibly, involuntarily.

He sees it.

He feeds on it.

“You know what people are sayin’?” he continues. “They’re laughin’ at you. Sayin’ he must be real desperate. Sayin’ he probably feels sorry for you.”

He steps closer.

You try to move around him. He blocks you.

“Ain’t nobody ever gonna really want you, y’know that?” he hisses. “Not after me. Not once they know what you let happen.”

The words hit harder than any shove ever could.

Your throat burns.

You want to scream. Tell him to fuck off. Run.

But your body won’t move. Your chest won’t expand. Your voice won't rise above a breath.

“You’re just a place to put it,” he says. “You always were.”

And then he grabs your arm.

Not hard — not like before.

But enough.

Enough to slam you back to that place where your brain goes blank and your ribs squeeze shut around your lungs. Enough to send you spiraling through a memory you never wanted to feel again.

He shoves you gently — just enough to press you back against the wall.

And leans in.

“Bet Miller doesn’t even know what you sound like when you cry.”

Your stomach turns.

You try to twist away, to push, to say something — anything — but all that comes out is a ragged gasp.

That’s when you hear it.

Bootsteps.

Heavy. Rushed.

And Joel’s voice — low, furious:

“Get your fuckin’ hands off her.”

The voice cuts through the dark like a blade.

You feel your ex’s hand twitch where it’s still pressed to the wall beside your head — startled — but he doesn’t move away.

You don’t look up at first. Can’t. Your breath is caught somewhere high in your chest.

But then Joel is there.

Fast. Heavy. Burning.

You see him out of the corner of your eye — broad shoulders, dark coat, fists clenched at his sides. The heat rolling off him is more than anger. It’s wrath.

Your ex turns slowly, lips curling.

“So this is your knight, huh?” he says with a smirk. “Joel fuckin’ Miller. Thought you’d have better taste.”

Joel doesn’t speak.

His eyes flick to you — pressed back against the wall, frozen — then back to him.

“I’m not touching her,” your ex says mockingly. “She came back here on her own. I was just remindin’ her of a few things.”

He takes a step forward.

Joel doesn’t flinch.

“You know she used to cry after?” he says — loudly, cruelly. “Every time. All that fight in her mouth just melted when she realized what she was.”

You suck in a breath so sharp it feels like it slices your throat.

Joel’s entire body changes.

Tightens.

Still doesn’t speak.

“You think you’re the first to hear her moan?” your ex spits. “You think she’s not gonna use you the same way she used me? Play the victim, let you fuck the sad out of her, then move on when someone better comes along?”

Joel steps forward.

Slow. Controlled.

Dead silent.

“What,” your ex sneers, “you think you’re different? She’s still just—”

Joel punches him mid-sentence.

The sound of knuckles on bone echoes like thunder in the alley.

Your ex stumbles back — blood spurting from his nose immediately. He barely catches himself against the brick, hand flying up to his face, blinking in shock.

“The fuck—?”

Joel’s already on him.

Another punch. Harder.

A third lands to the side of his jaw with a sickening crack, knocking him sideways into the stack of crates by the greenhouse wall. Wood splinters. Something shatters.

“You talk to her like that again—” slam “You even look at her—” slam “You’re fuckin’ lucky I don’t kill you.”

Joel’s voice is low and deadly, every word laced with years of held-back fury.

Your ex swings once — wild, sloppy. He clips Joel’s shoulder.

It only pisses him off more.

Joel grabs the front of his coat and shoves him to the ground. Straddles him. Fist raised.

“You wanna feel what she felt?” he snarls. “Huh? You wanna know what it’s like to be helpless?”

He punches him again. And again.

Blood smears across Joel’s knuckles. His breathing is ragged. Controlled, but barely.

“You’re done. You hear me?” he growls. “She’s not scared of you anymore.”

Your ex is coughing, sputtering — hands raised in surrender, face already swelling.

“You’re done.”

Joel lets go.

He stands slowly, chest heaving, fists still clenched.

Your ex stumbles up, eyes wild with fear and humiliation. Blood dripping from his nose, lip split wide. He doesn’t say anything.

He just runs.

Slips in the snow.

Keeps running.

Joel watches him go. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t chase.

Just breathes.

Then — slowly — turns back toward you.

You haven’t moved from the wall.

Still trembling.

Still gasping for breath that won’t come.

And Joel’s face shifts instantly — rage melting into panic.

“Baby—?”

He’s walking toward you now, hands up, slow and careful.

“Sweetheart, look at me. It’s over.”

But you’re not hearing him.

Because in your head — it’s still happening.

Your back slides down the wall.

Your legs give out, and you crumple into the snow without feeling it. Cold sinks into your palms, your knees, your chest — but your body’s too far gone to register it. Everything is numb except your lungs, which feel like they’re caving in.

You can’t breathe.

Your eyes are wide, locked on nothing. Ears ringing. Hands shaking. Mouth open, but no sound comes out.

You're still there.

Still in it.

His words echo in your skull like knives:

“She’s just a place to put it.” “You know what she sounds like when she cries.”

You gasp for air, but it doesn’t come.

Your chest heaves. Your vision blurs. You claw at your coat like it's strangling you.

And then—hands.

Large, steady, familiar.

Joel.

He’s in front of you now, kneeling in the snow, his body close but not touching — not yet.

“Hey. Hey, baby, look at me.”

You can't.

You’re shaking too hard.

“You’re alright,” he says softly. “He’s gone. He can’t touch you anymore.”

His hand reaches for yours. Doesn’t force it — just waits.

You grab it like a lifeline.

And then everything breaks.

You start to sob.

Ugly, gasping, panicked sobs that come from somewhere deep — somewhere old. The kind that make your whole body convulse, like it’s trying to expel every horrible thing he ever said, ever did.

Joel pulls you into his lap.

Sits down fully in the snow and wraps his arms around you. One hand cradles your head. The other rubs your back, slow and firm and steady.

“You’re safe now,” he whispers. “You hear me? You’re safe.”

You can’t answer. You’re crying too hard.

So he keeps talking.

“I got you. Right here. Just breathe with me.”

He presses his lips to your temple, his voice lower now — all warmth.

“In and out, baby. That’s it. There you go. You’re doin’ so good.”

You cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping you from slipping under. Your fists curl into his coat, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, hot tears soaking into the fabric.

“I thought—” you choke out. “I thought I was gonna die.”

Joel’s hold tightens.

“Not while I’m breathin’,” he says, voice rough with emotion. “Not fuckin’ ever.”

You sob harder, and he rocks you gently — back and forth in the snow like you’re something precious.

And maybe you are.

Because Joel holds you like you’re everything.

You don’t know how long you sit there in the snow, buried in Joel’s arms.

Your sobs taper off slowly — like the last of a storm draining out of you. Your hands are still fisted in his coat. Your face is raw from the cold, from the crying. But you’re breathing again.

Shallow. Uneven. But real.

Joel doesn’t let go.

His hand never stops moving — stroking up and down your back in slow, grounding lines. His mouth stays near your temple, his breath warm on your skin.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “You’re okay. I got you.”

You shift slightly, pulling your head back from his shoulder, just far enough to see him.

His face is tight. Wrecked.

There’s blood on his knuckles. His jaw is clenched like he’s still fighting the urge to run back and finish what he started.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Joel freezes.

“Don’t.”

“I—” Your voice breaks. “I should’ve told you. I didn’t want—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he says, voice suddenly rough.

His hand slides to your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that didn’t get the memo to stop.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. He did. All of it.”

You look down at his chest. “I didn’t think I could tell anyone. I thought—if I just ignored him long enough…”

“He’d stop,” Joel finishes softly. “That he’d disappear.”

You nod. Eyes burning.

“He made me feel like I was crazy. Like I was broken. And then when people started talking about us—” Your throat closes. “It felt like they agreed with him.”

Joel exhales hard through his nose. Like the thought physically hurts him.

“They don’t know you,” he says. “They don’t get to define you.”

His thumb trails under your jaw.

“You’re not broken. You’re not too much. You’re not anything he said.”

You shake your head. “You don’t have to say that just because—”

“I’m sayin’ it because it’s true.”

You finally look at him again. Really look.

His face is open in a way you’ve never seen. Not just angry. Not just protective. Tender.

You blink fast.

“You beat the hell out of him.”

Joel shrugs, voice quieter now. “Didn’t feel like enough.”

You let out a soft, watery laugh. The first one in hours.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did.”

He leans forward, pressing his forehead gently to yours.

“If I ever see him near you again, I swear to God—”

“He won’t,” you whisper. “Not after tonight.”

Joel’s hands are warm on your face, cupping you like you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on.

“I wish you didn’t have to be strong like this,” he murmurs. “I wish you never had to learn how.”

You close your eyes.

Let yourself lean into him.

Let yourself believe — just for a moment — that you don’t have to carry it alone anymore.

He doesn’t ask if you want to go home.

He just helps you stand — one arm around your waist, the other holding your hand like something sacred — and guides you through the snow-covered streets without a single word.

The town is quiet.

Too late for witnesses. Too dark for whispers.

The streetlights cast long, golden streaks across the rooftops. Your boots crunch beside his in perfect rhythm, and you stay close — closer than you need to, because you can still feel that alley clinging to your skin like frost.

Joel doesn’t let go once.

By the time you reach your apartment, your legs ache, your eyes sting, and the weight of the night settles back over your shoulders like wet wool.

You fumble with the key.

Joel gently takes it from you. Unlocks the door. Steps inside first like he’s still scanning for danger. Then gestures for you to follow.

“Sit,” he murmurs. “I’ll get you water.”

You do as he says.

You sink onto the edge of your bed — coat still on, scarf loose around your neck, snow melting from your sleeves. You don’t know what to do with your hands.

He comes back with a glass and kneels in front of you again. Just like earlier. Only now, there’s no panic. Just presence.

He watches you drink. Waits until you set the glass down.

Then his hand reaches for yours again.

“You want me to go?”

The question is so soft you almost miss it.

Your first instinct is to say yes — not because you want him to leave, but because you don’t want to need him to stay.

You hesitate too long.

Joel brushes your knuckles with his thumb.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.”

You shake your head.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Just... don’t leave.”

That’s all you say.

You don’t say I’m scared to be alone.

You don’t say I’ve never felt safer than I do with you.

You just say don’t leave.

And Joel hears everything you didn’t say.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he says. “Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ‘til you tell me to.”

He helps you out of your coat. Tugs your boots off. Hands you a blanket and lets you change while he turns away, giving you space.

When you slip under the covers, Joel moves slow.

Sits beside you. Then behind you. Then lies down fully — careful not to press too close, not unless you reach for him first.

Which you do.

You find his hand beneath the blanket and pull it over your waist. His arm wraps around you like it belongs there.

And that’s how you fall asleep.

Not with sex. Not with heat. Not with anything messy or dramatic.

Just with Joel’s chest at your back.

His breath in your hair.

And his voice, low and quiet in the dark:

“I got you, darlin’. I’m right here.”

And he stays.

AN: Okay so… yeah. That one hurt. Thank you for loving her through it. And if you want to be on the taglist, don’t be shy — drop a comment and I’ll add you faster than Joel can throw a punch 😘

Sweet on You Taglist: @suzysface, @vikiii07, @chewie-bars, @nrschuster30, @thecasualnope, @lady-artemis27, @seraphimcollections, @brittmb115 @dean-and-baby343 @biopicsabouthorsesonly @its-in-the-woods @cosm1c-babe @marysucks-blog

[nahoney22]

Congrats on 4500 followers!!! You’ve come so far and I feel so blessed whenever you’re writing blesses my feed ❤️

May I please request the bad batch and any other clone(s) of your choice learning that the reader (gender neutral) has a bunch of tattoos and they didn’t know because reader is always covered? Perhaps they find out when reader gets injured, or they walk in on reader changing, maybe things get spicy…Could be nsfw, sfw, or anything in between, your choice!

Have an absolutely wonderful day and may your writing grow and flourish!

Tattoo’s***🌊

🫧 All The Bad Batch Boys, Fives & Rex X Gender Neutral!Reader

How the Bad Batch Boys including Rex and Fives react to you having tattoo’s.

warnings: Some are safe for work and others are quite spicy so there is a 18+ warning. Gender neutral reader, tattooed reader, kisses, touchy-feely, flirting, accidental voyeurism, some friends to lovers, friends with benefits, strip poker, nudity, neck biting and kissing, some flustered clones and reader.

a/n: sorry for the wait @ihavemanychickens, hope this is okay. And thanks @probadbatch for the strip poker idea 🔥 🩵🫧

Echo

"Take a seat here; I’ll grab the medkit," Echo ordered as soon as you stepped onto the ship, guiding you to lean against a nearby crate.

You had taken a minor hit—a blaster bolt grazing your calf. The pain was sharp, but you were certain it wasn't anything serious.

As you lowered yourself onto the crate with a wince, you rolled up your pant leg to inspect the wound—a deep graze, but nothing too alarming.

Echo approached, kneeling in front of you. "Let’s have a look."

You appreciated his quick response and care, but you noticed his gaze lingering on your leg. "Is everything okay?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," he replied quickly, shaking off his distraction as he retrieved some bacta spray. "I just didn't know you had tattoos."

You paused, realising this might be the first time any of the Batch had seen more of your skin beyond your hands and face. You weren't exactly in the habit of undressing in front of them. "I thought I mentioned it before."

"Not to me," Echo chuckled, carefully applying the spray. He winced sympathetically when you did, apologising as he dressed and bandaged the wound. "I think I would have remembered."

You shrugged casually. "I've had them for a while. Planning to add more, actually." You smiled as he stood, taking one last look at your leg before rolling the fabric back down.

"Oh yeah? Got any ideas?" he asked, genuinely curious despite lacking any ink himself.

You began to list off a few ideas, and as you did, you noticed how interested he seemed. "What about you?" you asked as you carefully hopped off the crate, putting minimal pressure on your leg. "Ever thought about getting one?"

He considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "Not really my thing, but they look really good on you."

"Thanks, Echo," you replied, touched by his compliment. He even appeared flustered by his own choice of words. "I’m pretty much covered. I could show you some more sometime?"

You meant it innocently, but the thought of Echo seeing more of your tattoos, and thus more of you, froze both of you in place. His wide eyes mirrored your own as you both stumbled over your words, trying to recover. Fortunately, a transmission started to come through, saving you from further awkwardness.

Who knows, maybe one day you would show him more.

Hunter

“Hey, have you seen my—?” Hunter’s words died in his throat as he stepped onto the Marauder, not expecting to find you in a state of partial undress.

Your back was to him, revealing tattoos that he hadn't known were there. He’d seen the small ones around your ankles before, but this was different. This was...a lot more.

You turned quickly, eyes wide as you grabbed your shirt to cover yourself. Hunter cleared his throat, awkwardly tapping his hand against the ship's wall. "Sorry, I, uh, I should’ve knocked."

"Don’t worry about it," you replied, trying to downplay the situation. "What were you looking for?"

Hunter blinked, trying to recall what he had come for. "I was looking for...you know what? It doesn’t matter." He chuckled, attempting to break the tension. "I didn’t realise you had so many tattoos."

"Oh," you started, feeling a slight flush of heat creep into your cheeks. "Yeah, my back has the most. My legs and arms are pretty much bare."

"And the ones on your ankles," he added, a small smile playing on his lips.

You nodded with a grin. "And the ones on my ankles."

An odd silence settled between you, both unsure of what to say next. You leaned against one of the consoles, watching him as he seemed to look everywhere but at you. "Do you have more than one tattoo?" you asked, pointing to your face where his was on his own.

"Just the one. But it’s, uh, bigger than you’d think."

"It is?" you asked, genuinely surprised.

"It goes all the way down to my hip," he revealed casually, his tone as smooth as ever.

Your eyes widened. How had you never known that? Then again, you both had your secrets. "Really? That’s...cool." Without thinking, you added, "I’d love to see it."

Hunter’s eyes met yours, a spark of interest in his gaze. "I could show you if you want."

You nodded, trying to act nonchalant as your heart rate picked up. You watched as he began to peel off his shirt, revealing his tanned, toned, and muscular build. Your eyes traced over the intricate design of his tattoo as it spread down his ribcage, disappearing into the waistband of his pants. You couldn’t lie, the sight of him stripping his clothes off to show you what he had hidden did something to you… it was literally impossible to focus on anything else.

"Well?" Hunter asked, a teasing grin on his face as he caught you staring. Even worse, you were even biting your lip as you practically drooled over him. You sincerely hope he didn’t hear the way your heart thundered in your chest but you doubt it.

You swallowed, managing a small smile as you met his gaze. "It’s...impressive," you said, voice soft but genuine.

Hunter chuckled, pulling his shirt back on, though the heat between you lingered. "Thanks. Maybe next time, we can compare."

"Maybe," you replied, trying to sound casual, but the way your pulse raced suggested this was a moment you wouldn’t soon forget.

Wrecker

"Headed to the gym? Mind if I join ya?" Wrecker asked, catching you mid-motion as you pulled on your workout shoes. Being back on Kamino meant access to some of the best training facilities, and you weren't about to pass that up.

You glanced up and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Want me to wait for you?"

"Nah, no need. I'll meet you there. Gotta finish up something first," Wrecker replied, already eager to start lifting.

You smiled and headed off to the gym. You started with an intense cardio session, like usual, working up a sweat quickly. The heat made you shrug off your jacket, leaving you in your training tank top. As you moved on to weights, you focused on your form, muscles tensing and relaxing with each rep.

A little while later, Wrecker strolled into the gym, ready to go. He stalls as he noticed you lifting, your body glistening with sweat, muscles working in sync—and the tattoos.

His eyes widened at the sight; he’d never seen so many on you before. He knew you had some but not to this extent. Watching you move, the way your inked skin flexed with every rep, stirred something in him. And in his pants that seemed to get oppressively tighter.

You caught his gaze in the mirror, noticing the way he was staring. Turning to face him, you raised an eyebrow. "What’s got your attention?"

He blinked, flustered at being caught. "Uh, nothin'! Just, uh... your tattoos! Didn’t know ya had that many.”

You chuckled, setting the weights down. "Yeah, most people don’t notice unless I’m dressed down like this." You took a step closer, giving him a playful smile. "Like what you see?" You ask with your hands on your hips.

Wrecker swallowed, clearly caught off guard by your forwardness, but he wasn’t about to back down. "Y-Yeah! I mean, they look... really good. You look really good," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he met your eyes.

You grinned, pleased by his reaction. "Thanks. It’s nice to know they get some appreciation." You paused for a moment, your eyes locking with his. "Ever thought about getting one yourself?"

Wrecker laughed, his sudden nerves easing a bit. "Me? Nah, I dunno if I could sit still that long.” And then he takes a bolt of courage. “But maybe I could get used to seeing 'em on you."

The flirtation in his tone wasn’t lost on you, and you felt a spark of excitement. "Well, maybe you should keep coming to the gym with me then. Could be good motivation for both of us."

His grin widened, the tension between you warm but playful. "I think I just might. Gotta keep an eye on those tattoos... and make sure you're not skippin' leg day," he teased, eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and interest as his eyes roamed your body.

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge as you picked up your weights again. "You do that, Wrecker."

As you continued your workout, you could feel his gaze lingering on you, the atmosphere charged with a new energy. It seemed like these gym sessions were about to get a lot more interesting.

Tech

You crouched beside Tech, helping him with a particularly intricate wiring task on the Marauder. The fabric of your gloves proved too cumbersome, so you slipped them off, deciding your bare hands would offer better precision.

As you worked, Tech glanced over, his eyes narrowing as he noticed something new—delicate, intricate tattoos on your fingers. He hadn’t noticed them before, and the sight of them seemed to capture his full attention.

“I was not aware you had tattoos,” he said, a note of surprise in his voice. Without thinking, he gently took your hand in his, turning it slightly to get a better look. Tech wasn’t typically one for physical touch, so this unexpected action caught you slightly off guard.

You blinked, feeling a warmth rise to your cheeks as he inspects you like data. "Yeah, they’re easy to miss, I guess," you replied, feeling your heart race a little faster.

Tech’s thumb brushed over one of the designs, his touch both curious and reverent. “Tattoos can be meaningful,” he began, his voice taking on that familiar tone of fascination. “The process, the permanence, the cultural significance… all of it is so intriguing. Did you know—” He cut himself off, his eyes meeting yours as he took a deep breath. “What I really mean to say is I have always found you attractive, but this-these tattoos- they just add to it.”

His confession left you momentarily speechless. "You find me attractive?" you asked, needing to hear it again to believe it.

Tech nodded, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle. “Yes. I have for some time now. I find myself even more drawn to you.”

You felt your breath hitch, his words sinking in and making your pulse quicken. "I have more, you know," you said softly, a playful edge to your voice. "If you’re interested in seeing them… maybe somewhere more comfortable?"

A flicker of excitement passed through Tech’s eyes, and he gave you a small, genuine smile. "I would like that."

You stood, leading him to a quieter corner of the ship. As you removed your jacket, revealing more of the intricate tattoos on your arms, Tech’s gaze followed every movement, his expression full of admiration.

“May I?” he asked softly, his hands hovering just above your skin.

You nodded, feeling a thrill as his fingers traced the designs on your arms. His touch was light, sending shivers through you. "There are more on my legs," you added, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I’d have to take off my pants to show you."

Tech swallowed, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "I would love to see them," he replied, his voice huskier than before.

With a small smile, you slowly undid your pants, sliding them down to reveal the tattoos on your legs. Tech’s eyes widened slightly, his admiration for your body art clear in his expression.

"You’re incredible," he murmured, his hands resting on your thighs, fingers tracing the designs with care. The warmth of his touch and the weight of his words made your heart pound.

“I’m really not,” you gush, turning around so Tech could also see the back of your legs and maybe something else.

“You are being modest for someone dressed so immodestly.” Tech’s eyes darkened slightly, eyes landing on your arse. Without another word, he spins you to face him and leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours.

As your hand wrap around the back of his neck, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more needy, as you both gave in to the moment. Tech’s hands roamed over your body, feeling the curves and lines of your tattoos, and you felt a rush of warmth as his touch ignited a fire within you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Tech looked at you with a mix of awe and affection. "I have wanted to do that for a long time," he confessed, his voice sincere.

You smiled, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Well, I’m glad you finally did."

Crosshair

It had become something of a routine between you and Crosshair—whenever you were alone, it was only a matter of time before things heated up. Today was no different. “It’s been too long since I last had you,”

You stood in front of him, your back against his toned chest as his hands firmly grip your hips as his lips traced along your neck, alternating between soft kisses and rougher bites.

As he moved closer to your ear, his sharp eyes caught sight of something he hadn’t noticed before—a small, delicate tattoo hidden just behind your ear. His lips paused in their assault, and you felt him stiffen slightly behind you. “You’ve been keeping secrets,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. His fingers brushed over the tiny tattoo, making your skin tingle.

You smirked, leaning back into him. “Maybe you’re just not as observant as you think,” you teased, your tone laced with challenge. “You seem to spend more time paying attention to what’s between my legs than to the ink on my skin.”

A low groan rumbled from his chest, his grip on your hips tightening as he pressed his body against yours. “You think so?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe I’ll have to change that.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your pulse quickening as his hands started to roam over your body, pushing your shirt up to expose more of your skin. “You should get a tattoo just for me,” he continued, his voice dripping with dark intent. “Maybe a little crosshair… right here,” he suggested, his fingers tracing a spot on your arm. “Or here,” he added, his hand moving to your chest, brushing just above your heart.

You bit your lip, your breath hitching as he slowly undressed you, his hands and words sending sparks of anticipation through your body. “Or maybe here,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his hand slid down to cup your arse, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your heart raced, every touch and every word of his making you more and more aware of how hard he was against you. He leaned in closer once you turned to face him, his mouth hovering just above yours. “Or how about… right under your tongue,” he growled, his voice thick with a slight possessiveness, before slipping his tongue into your mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss.

The kiss was intense, his tongue dominating yours as his hands continued to undress you, peeling away the last of your clothes. You barely registered when he lifted you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his bunk.

You could feel his ache, hard and insistent, pressing against your stomach, making you tremble with your own need. He laid you down on the bunk, his body hovering over yours. “I think you’d look good with my mark on you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “That way my brothers know to keep away from what is mine.”

“I’m yours, am I?” You grin, your hand sliding down between your bodies and between his legs.

“Yes. Mine.”

And as his mouth found yours again, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, a tiny crosshair tattoo wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

Rex

The 501st had finally earned a brief respite after a grueling mission, and the team scattered to enjoy some well-deserved downtime. Rex, however, found himself preoccupied. It was time to regroup, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Jesse,” Rex called out, spotting the trooper near a makeshift campsite and asked about your whereabouts.

Jesse glanced up from where he was lounging. “Last I saw, they were headed down to the lake. Said something about needing a dip to cool off.”

Rex nodded his thanks and he made his way toward the lake. You always had a knack for slipping away, but something about the thought of you swimming alone somewhat nagged at him. He figured he’d better go fetch you himself.

The path to the lake was serene, the sounds of nature a welcome change from the usual chaos of battle. But as Rex approached the water's edge, his breath caught in his throat.

You were emerging from the lake, the sun glistening off the droplets of water clinging to your skin. For a moment, Rex simply stared, his mind going blank as he took in the sight before him. Your wet skin gleamed in the golden light, but it wasn’t just the natural beauty of the scene that struck him—it was the tattoos.

He’d never seen them before, intricate designs that seemed to flow with the contours of your body. They were subtle, yet striking, adding an unexpected allure to the person he thought he knew so well.

You noticed him standing there and began to approach, water dripping from your body with each step. As you got closer, Rex suddenly felt very out of place. Trying to shake off his surprise, he cleared his throat. "Your, uh, towel," he said, gesturing vaguely behind you, trying to mask the way his eyes kept wandering back to the tattoos.

You chuckled softly, amused by his sudden awkwardness. “Right,” you said, turning to grab your towel and wrapping it around yourself before facing him again. “Something on your mind, Captain?”

Rex met your gaze, feeling heat rise to his cheeks—a rare occurrence for someone as composed as him. “I didn’t know you had tattoos,” he admitted, his voice a little higher pitched than he intended. “They suit you.” He finishes after clearing his throat.

You smiled, noticing the way his eyes still seemed drawn to the ink on your skin. “Thanks. They’ve been there a while, just not something I show off all the time.” You took a step closer, tilting your head slightly as you gave him a once-over. “What about you? Anything hiding under that armour?”

He felt his pulse quicken at your boldness, your gaze holding his with a teasing glint. Normally, he was the one in control, the one giving orders. But right now, under your mesmerising eyes, he felt a little out of his depth—and oddly, he didn’t mind.

Summoning a bit of courage, Rex allowed himself to relax, just a touch. “No tattoos,” he admitted, though the thought of getting one never sounded more appealing than it did in that moment. He paused, then added, “Maybe we could talk about it sometime. Over a drink?”

Your smile widened, pleased by his offer. “I’d like that, Captain,” you replied, the title sounding more like a term of endearment than a rank.

Rex gave you a nod, trying to keep his expression steady, though his mind was already racing with the possibilities what that drink might lead to. “Good,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Fives

You and Fives had been spending more time together than usual, which led to playful jokes and fun and eventually, a daring suggestion by Fives: strip poker. Since both of you were always ready for a challenge, it wasn’t long before you found yourselves seated across from each other, cards in hand.

The first few rounds were harmless enough—boots, belts, gloves—but as the game progressed, more significant pieces of clothing began to shed. Fives, ever the showman, made a big deal out of every win, laughing and teasing you as you reluctantly removed another item. But what caught his attention most was when your tattoos started to reveal themselves.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Fives said, his eyes widening with pleasant surprise as he saw the first hints of ink on your skin. “I didn’t know you had tattoos!”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as you revealed a bit more with each lost round. “I guess it never came up,” you teased back, your heart racing not just from the game but from the way his gaze seemed to linger on every new detail of your body. And admittedly, you admired his tone and muscular torso also.

Fives grin widens as more of your tattoos came into view. “They’re pretty awesome,” he complimented, clearly enjoying the discovery. “I’m starting to think losing isn’t so bad after all.”

But then, his eyes locked onto a specific tattoo, and his playful expression shifted to one of surprise. It was a simple design, but one that he recognised all too well—a number 5.

“Wait, hold on—” He leaned in closer, pointing at the tattoo with a mix of shock and amusement. “Is that a 5? Did you get a tattoo for me?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by his excitement. “What? No!” you quickly explained, realising how it looked. “It’s not for you, Fives. It’s just a coincidence.”

Fives however wasn’t having it as his smile shifted into a mischievous smirk, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Sure, it is. Admit it, you’re secretly obsessed with me,” he teased, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure, but Fives wasn’t letting this one go. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, challenging tone. “Come on, admit it. It’s for me. I knew I was your favourite.”

The heat of the moment—combined with the growing awareness of how little clothing both of you were wearing—made your heart race. “Fives,” you warned, but your tone lacked any real bite. The truth was, his playful determination was getting to you, making it hard to keep up the act.

Seeing you start to falter, Fives pressed on, moving closer until your faces were only inches apart. “Say it,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Say it’s for me.”

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, your voice betraying how much you were enjoying this. But before you could think of a comeback, Fives closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss.

The intensity of the kiss caught you off guard, eyes wide, but you quickly melted into it, your hands tangling in his hair as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and into his lap. The realisation of how nude you both had become only fueled the fire between you.

Fives pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “So, you’re not denying it then?”

You laughed breathlessly. “Maybe it’s time you focus on winning the game instead of running your mouth,” you challenged, though your voice was laced with affection as your lips ghost against his.

He grinned, before he pulled you back in for another searing kiss. “I’m already winning,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, exploring the tattoos that had started this whole thing.

🌊 Masterlist is pinned 🌊

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb b @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

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[ingoampt]

Batch normalisation part 2 - day 26

Introduction to Batch Normalization Batch normalization is a widely used technique in deep learning that significantly improves the performance and stability of neural networks. Introduced by Sergey Ioffe and Christian Szegedy in 2015, this technique addresses the issues of vanishing and exploding gradients that can occur during training, particularly in deep networks. Why Batch Normalization? In…

[niuttuc]

This is a post I'm interested to be seen by people who either do not play Magic: the Gathering or engage with it rather casually. If that's not you, feel free to reblog to reach a wider audience, but the exercise in here will not be as useful.

A few months back, the game released a new Base Set of cards called Foundations. It is meant to be a new batch of hundreds of cards that will always be available, that are simpler on average (though not necessarily less powerful) to be a point of entry for new players. Something else it does wonderfully is be a palette of the many worlds, aesthetics and vibes within the game. This is where you come in:

This is the important bit below

Take a look at the cards in the set! You don't even have to read them, there are many, many of them. If one of them or more catches your attention, reblog this post with an image of it, and if you want to learn anything more about it! Be it the world it depicts, its history within the game, or even the mechanics if they are what intrigues you.

This is the important bit above

Some of the cards are either generic or from worlds we haven't visited yet, but the vast majority fit within a larger whole, and there might be more like them to point at! I will try to elaborate on what you want to learn, and maybe even point you towards similar cards or entire card sets on the world or subject you took note of.

In case you're totally unfamiliar with the game, I'll put a short summary under the cut:

Magic: the Gathering is a fantasy trading card game that's over thirty years old. People are invited to create their own deck of cards out of a pool of nearly 30,000 different cards at this point. The gameplay has been summed up many times as being something that sits in between Chess and Poker as far as overall appeal, though the actual action-by-action game is unlike both of them. Just like with playing cards, though not as extreme, there are different ways to play with the cards too, varying which are legal, or the exact rules they're played under.

It is a deep game that can be enjoyed at many levels of engagement, and will take exactly as much time and money out of you as you're willing to give it. From $0 free to play gaming on arena or occasional board game night engagement, to spending hundreds regularly to keep up with a tournament metagame, to spending thousands if not tens of thousands on super rare collectible cards.

In the past few years, Magic has started collaborating with other franchises to make cards for their properties. Lord of the Rings, Fallout, Doctor Who, and plenty more, though it keeps making cards for its own worlds and lore.

That lore can be summed up as a magical multiverse full of very different worlds, each with their own aesthetics, magics, factions and struggles. They are interconnected by rare mages that are able to travel between them, and a major event recently started connecting them further, allowing the layperson to be able to travel between them using less practical ways to do so. Within those worlds, stories happen, sometimes through the cards themselves, sometimes through written fiction, be them novels, online stories or even comic books. Magic cards are divided into five different colors of magic, each with its own associated philosophy, elemental associations, mechanics, aesthetics. Those five colors can then combine and interact to form complex characters, factions, spells and more.

[juyeoz]

U + M3 = LOV3 — NISHIMURA RIKI

014┆ don’t cross this line (0.5k words)

“Hello everyone, welcome to the second semester!” Your teacher, Ms. Ju says while fixing things on her desk.

“As many of you may know, my name is Ms. Ju and I teach in the mathematics department but I’m also capable of doing chemistry.” 

“Other than that, that’s all you need to know about me.” She smiles at the students in front of her and claps her hands.

“To get this out of the way, yes these will be your seats until the end of the year. Though, I am hoping there will be no need to switch people around…” 

Her eyes travel across the classroom, eyeing down all the students in her classroom.

The boy beside you groans at this new learned fact as you roll your eyes. He’s being extra. It’s not like you want to sit beside him either.

“Shut up.” You mutter, gaining his attention immediately. You ignore any protests he has and pull out your belongings as Ms. Ju instructed to. Riki does the same, placing his pencil case and notebooks on his desk.

The sound of your notebooks hitting your desk causes him to slightly flinch. You are being so dramatic, and for what?

Despite the sounds, another thing Riki notices is the way the spiral of your notebooks rests on his desk too. 

“Hey,” he calls over Ms. Ju’s talking. You pause for a moment, taking in a deep breath with closed eyes before looking at him with a scowl.

He takes the side of his hand and places it at the edge of your desks. Slowly, he drags it down the crevice in silence, pushing your notebook aside in the process.

You look at him with furrowed brows, wondering what his stupid act meant.

“Don’t cross this line. Stick to your side.” 

You scoff at his words. They are so childish.

“Are you a child? Plus, it’s not like I want to be beside you anyways.”

“Whatever. Just stick to your side. Anything that touches my side, I’ll confiscate.” 

“And do what with it?” You ask.

Riki is silent for a moment before opening his mouth to speak again. 

“I’ll call it mine.” 

“If it helps you sleep at night, then go ahead.” 

You roll your eyes and open your notebook, discarding the memory of your previous interaction with the child beside you — Nishimura Riki.

He hasn’t changed at all. Your luck is terrible for you to run into him twice in the last two weeks.

What happened to the distance between you two for the last two years? What changed for you to be meeting each other again?

Whatever it is, you hate it. Your life only got worse when you met him again. 

He’s like a pot of bad luck. Everywhere he is, you feel a bad omen. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the hand that swoops down and grabs the pen cap that slipped onto Riki’s side of your shared desks.

“Cross the line and I confiscate.” He mouths with a smug expression on his face.

You hold back a groan of frustration and sigh instead. Whatever, he’ll give it back eventually. 

It doesn’t matter to you.

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NOTE — i love this chap

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© JUYEOZ

[dwaekkicidal]

𓆩Angel Boyfriend Felix𓆪

gn!reader | mentions of jilix x reader teehee MDNI!! smut/NSFW below the cut

Angel bf Felix who doesn’t bother to hide his ecstatic expression anytime he looks at you, wide smile and crescent eyes beaming at you brighter than the sun itself

Angel bf Felix who finds himself repeating things you always say and gestures you always do, even when you're not around

Angel bf Felix who likes to order you food for delivery (and throws in extra sweets) if he can’t be with you in person. just to make sure you're eating but also to remind you that he's thinking of you and misses you <3

Angel bf Felix who can’t keep his hands off of you anywhere. Not in public, not around his members, not at events, not at family reunions. Feels so connected and in love with you when you guys dote on each other in front of friends and family with no shame or fear

Angel bf Felix who handcrafts your favorite baked goods at least once a month and tries to make sure there’s enough to last you until the next batch is ready. When his schedule allows it, he does it every other week so you can get them fresher more often

Angel bf Felix who loves to sit you in his lap while he’s gaming, pointing out cool characters, items, or areas that both he likes and that he thinks you would like

Angel bf Felix who sends you voice memos throughout the day when he’s extra busy, or when he's on tour you get updates every few hours. He prefers video calling but if his schedule doesn't allow it, he'll just send a video message or voice memo to hold you (him) over

Angel bf Felix who falls asleep clutching his phone after listening to your voice memos on repeat (the boys take pictures/videos when they catch him like this and they sometimes even send them to you)

Angel bf Felix who will drop everything he's doing if you say anything along the lines of your body being sore or hurting. absolutely NO hesitation to give you massages no matter when or where you ask (and even when you don't ask because he knows the signs of your discomfort)

Angel bf Felix who takes pride in your relationship, never being afraid to strut around with you glued to his hip or post pictures with items that tell people you were 100% with him

Angel bf Felix who loves to bring you around his members, sometimes inviting one or multiple of them out for lunch/dinner just so he can see his favorite people interacting with each other

Angel bf Felix who feels something snap within him when he learns that Han has a little crush on you. All the unnecessary touches and flushed smiles at you start making sense to him

Falling angel bf Felix who, from that day on, keeps an extra eye on Han and his advances / shyer actions around you

Falling angel bf Felix who notices during movie night at 3racha+Hyunjin dorm that Han was being a little too touchy with you. The nail in the coffin is when Han pulls you into a hug that lasts too long for his liking, even more so when he notices the hands resting tightly around your waist during the hug

Falling angel bf Felix who has a point to prove a point now, and can only do so by showing you your place (to be his lover and by only his side), despite always being soft during sex and preferring love making over rough sex

Demon bf Felix who drags you into the bathroom after that, locking the door before pinning you against the wall face first and pulling your bottoms down

Demon bf Felix who puts his hands to work while he sucks hickies into your neck, pinching and massaging one of your nipples while the other dives between your legs to prep and make a mess of you

Demon bf Felix who makes you cum once, faster than you normally do, then teases you: pumps his dick a few times then pushes only the tip in before taking it back out and repeating the actions

Demon bf Felix who only starts to fuck into you when you're begging prettily, and proceeds to fuck into you rough right off the bat. using fast thrusts and deep angles that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your legs shaking

Demon bf Felix who keeps a hand over your mouth, even while he moans into your ear about how, "I should leave the door open while I fuck you. Have all of them come in and watch. Then maybe he'll be reminded that you're mine."

Demon bf Felix who (with your permission ofc) sends Han a video of him pounding into you from behind with his hand tangled in your hair and using that grip to pull you against his hips. He makes sure it catches his filthy words of "Don't forget that all of this is mine, Hannie. You can look and touch all you want, but at the end of the night its my dick that has them crying." before ending the video

Demon bf Felix whose goal is to get you both off fast now, the other members are surely suspicious if they're not already asleep and as much as he loves them knowing that you're his, it's rather uncomfortable for both sides to be aware (at first)

Demon bf Felix who gets whiny once the jealousy subsides and he realizes how close he is, basically begging you to "Come on my dick baby, please" and sliding his hands between your legs to finish you off first

Demon bf Felix who slowly pulls out and sends the video with the widest grin on his face before stuffing his cum back into your hole and pulls your bottoms back up

"Angel" bf Felix who drags you out of the bathroom when you both are back to normal, his cum seeping out of you more and more with every step you take

"Angel" bf Felix who gives you massages to your scalp once you two settle back in not missing the way a certain boy is gone from his spot and makes sure every inch that aches is tended to

"Angel" bf Felix who feigns innocence, telling the others that "I'm not sure what the limp is for. I think they hurt their ankle when we were walking back." and only shrugging when somebody points out how you can't look anybody in the eye.

"Angel" bf Felix who just smirks at Han when the boy finally returns from his "walk to get water," patting the empty seat beside you and living off both of your flushed expressions

"Angel" bf Felix who easily deceives his members, because who wouldn't believe their resident Angel boy

"Angel" bf Felix who gets your permission and one day decides to invite Han to your bedroom activities. Lix stays in full control and sets most of the rules, but they still take turns ruining you all night <3

[thesecondhandwoman]

CHRISTMAS COOKIE CATASTROPHE

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: It was Christmas Eve, and you and Sevika were trying to make cookies. But, with your lack of not making a mess, even with Sevika’s help, your baking session turned into a floury mess.

The kitchen smelled faintly of cinnamon and sugar, though the full Christmas cookie experience was still a long way off. Sevika stood at the counter with a smirk playing at her lips, her sleeves rolled up to reveal her muscular arms as she expertly mixed a batch of cookie dough. Across from her, you were frowning at a measuring cup like it had personally insulted you.

“Okay, so if the recipe says ‘packed brown sugar,’ does that mean I just squish it into the cup, or is there, like, an official technique?” you asked, brow furrowed.

Sevika chuckled, a low, warm sound that made your heart flutter. “You squish it in, sweetheart. Like this.” She reached over, taking the sugar and pressing it firmly into the cup with her fingers. “There. Not rocket science.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, but some of us didn’t grow up knowing how to bake cookies like an expert.” You stuck your tongue out at her, but she just shrugged, smirking.

“Not my fault I had to keep Jinx and Isha fed without setting the house on fire. You learn fast when your life depends on it, especially when Christmas time comes around.”

You snorted at the image of a younger Sevika, stressed and likely covered in batter, trying to corral two chaos gremlins while making something edible. “That explains why you’re so annoyingly good at this.”

“What can I say? I’m multi-talented.” She winked, turning back to her bowl and kneading the dough with one hand while holding a recipe card in the other.

Meanwhile, you were wrestling with a new opponent: the bag of flour. It was one of those massive ones that seemed to exist solely to mock your lack of upper-body strength. “Ugh, why do they make these so hard to open?!” you grumbled, tugging at the corner of the bag.

“Careful,” Sevika warned, glancing up. “You’re gonna—”

“I’ve got it!” you interrupted, giving the bag a sharp yank. And then—poof.

A cloud of fine white powder erupted into the air, coating you from head to toe. Sevika, who had stepped closer to help, caught the brunt of the blast as well. For a moment, there was nothing but silence as the two of you stared at each other, flour settling like snow in your hair, on her prosthetic arm, even on her eyebrows.

Then Sevika burst out laughing. It was a deep, genuine laugh that shook her shoulders and made your cheeks burn, though you couldn’t help but join in. “I told you to be careful,” she said between chuckles, wiping at her face to no avail.

“I was careful!” you protested, though you were grinning. “Careful-ish. This is totally your fault for distracting me with your smug baking skills.”

“Oh, yeah? My fault?” She leaned in, her face inches from yours, her smirk downright mischievous. “Should I let you handle the oven, too? Or are we trying to blow up the kitchen tonight?”

“Hey!” you said, shoving her playfully. “I’ll have you know I’m an expert at, uhm, stirring.”

“Right,” she teased, plucking a stray streak of flour from your cheek. Her touch lingered for a moment, soft and tender, and your playful banter melted into something warmer. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, feeling your cheeks heat again under her gaze. “But I’m your mess.”

Her smirk softened into a small smile, and she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your flour-covered forehead. “Damn right you are.”

The rest of the evening was chaos in the best way. Sevika took over most of the actual baking, but you stayed by her side, sneaking tastes of dough and occasionally “accidentally” smudging frosting on her cheek. She retaliated by flicking flour at you, and soon the kitchen looked like a holiday war zone.

By the time the cookies were done, you were both covered in a mix of flour, sugar, and laughter. Sevika pulled a tray from the oven, holding it up for you to admire. “See? Perfect. Thanks to my expert skills and your…” She paused, grinning. “Moral support.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know my moral support is the only reason you didn’t burn them.”

“Uh-huh.” She set the tray down and pulled you into her arms, ignoring the mess. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you shot back, wrapping your arms around her. The warmth of her embrace—and the smell of freshly baked cookies—made everything feel perfect.

“Still a mess though.” She teased, smirking at your as she glanced down between flour-covered eyelashes.

“Shut up!” You chuckled, pushing her back a little before tugging her upstairs. “Now let’s hurry and shower so that we can watch a Christmas movie.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

And afterwards, as you sat together that night after cleaning up, sharing cookies that were slightly too crisp on the edges but perfect in their imperfection, you couldn’t think of a better way to spend Christmas Eve.