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astrolovecosmos · 1 year

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Chart Ruler in the Houses:

Your chart ruler is the planet associated with your rising sign. e.g. Libra rising means your chart ruler is Venus, Sagittarius Rising means your chart ruler is Jupiter. The chart ruler can be similar to the rising in that it represents an aspect of your self-expression. It can also act like a guide or marker to areas of life that greatly impact you and motivate you. See below the chart ruler in each house:

~1st House~

Individuality is not only important to you and your life, but questions surrounding individuality, developing it - these are a big part of your life lessons, struggles, wins, and fulfillments. How you develop as a person, your self-expression, independence, and how you stand out acts as motivation. Early life may have been unique, intense, or hazy depending on the planet, but frequently revisiting it or taking inspiration from it is common for this placement. Having your chart ruler in the 1st House may indicate someone who has high expectations for themselves and their life or even "destiny". It is common for these individuals to be on either side of the scale with pessimism vs. optimism in their approach and view of their own life. A fear of being rejected, ignored, and possibly used or controlled may exist here. When the chart ruler is in the 1st House these people will always ask themselves who they are and/or may have a huge drive to always prove themselves or define themselves. They may face many challenges involving depth, intensity, intimacy vs. shallowness and detachment. Self-love and acceptance are their strength, their crown.

~2nd House~

The 2nd House is a house of the physical world but also our relationship to the physical world which many times can be highly intangible. The most straightforward way to understand this is through ideas around value and resource. The 2nd House is what we value from our favorite piece of clothing to our loved ones to our own self-worth. This is also the house of security, quality, spending, resources, energy that is taken or received, it is physical manifestations or materialism which can extend to ideas of the spirit having a body (6th House may be body and health, but the 2nd also has connections to the body and physiology, especially the throat, neck, voice). When the chart ruler is in this house challenges, lessons, and guidance may seem very practical with lessons about work, money, and possessions. Other times it can be hard to recognize or follow with lessons about restraint, boundaries, or defense. The chart ruler pulls on individuals to practice self-care and stability. People here may feel like their stability, safety, and maybe sanity are frequently questioned or being threatened. They learn early on how important options, skills, tools, money, space, being resourceful is. These people for many reasons may also constantly seek comfort and contentment. They want the peace that comes with more passive attitudes towards living like attraction, patience, routine, and indulgence or relaxation. The 2nd House is also about potential and when the chart ruler sits here motivation can come from self-belief. Endurance and determination are their crown.

~3rd House~

Self-expression, learning, communicating, connecting - all of these things are brought front and center with the chart ruler in the 3rd house. Motivation can be from a curious mind or possibly a bored mind, being highly involved or removed from a community, or social status or pressures. Learning from others is very important for this placement, even those who are shyer may crave this. Many of their internal conflicts or conflicts throughout life may involve some sort of lone wolf. vs social butterfly themes. Their main motivation may come from, their self-expression and personality shaped by, or possibly one of their guiding lights in life may be their siblings, extended family, students, or possibly a teacher in some form. These individuals are likely observant, mentally quick, possibly talkative or social, and likely adaptable. Even if someone with this placement has a lot of fixed sign influences, life will pull them through many situations that will demand flexibility or an open mind. There is a focus on how these people are in their attitude towards others in their most immediate environment and inner circle outside of highly intimate or hierarchical roles like a spouse or parent. Think friends, coworkers, siblings, their network, their community. The planet will have a lot to say about this, Venus for example indicates a very easygoing, nice, possibly loving attitude. Mars may mean competitive, aggressive, or passionate interactions and relationships. The Sun or Pluto can indicate power struggles. Saturn indicates a lot of responsibility, reputation, maybe burdens form being part of a community. This attitude or approach to their community will be extremely important to them. Knowledge and adaptability or an openness to learn are their crown.

~4th House~

This individual's motivation and personality may be heavily based around family somehow. They are prone to holding onto old feelings and grudges and this may be a major drive for them. The 4th House can represent our homelife, our private life, private selves, ancestry, cycles or patterns, intuition, and nurturing. Having a happy, safe, or stable home is a need for everyone but here their home life may impact their most basic self-expression constantly. A hurt or disturbed home life may be worn on their sleeve somehow. The 4th House can represent our parents both in a literal or metaphorical sense. I wouldn't be surprised if those with their chart ruler in this house find that they seek a parent type of relationship with others frequently OR has to parent themselves or others somehow. There may be a great drive to carry on a family's legacy or to start a new found family with this placement. Questions and insecurities may frequently revolve around one's place in their family, starting a family, or leaving one. This person may be good at hiding intentions, may be highly private or guarded, receptive, perceptive, and sensitive. Where they feel most at home can be determined by planet and sign but the chart ruler in the 4th indicates that there is a huge need to always "return" home or feel at home in the self, with others, and in a place. Getting in touch with one's past or heritage may be important to them throughout life. An understanding of the pasts' impact on the present and future is a major theme and lesson. Understanding and caring are strengths of theirs to cultivate. But...Loyalty, love, and trust of family is their crown.

~5th House~

A general love for life may be a major motivation for this placement. The 5th House is the house of recreation, love affairs, romance, drama, creativity, creation, pleasure, celebration, hobbies, self-expression, vibrancy. Expressing the self through what one creates whether that is art, a reputation, food, crafts, ideas, debatably children are all important to this house. The chart ruler in the 5th House may have a huge desire to leave a legacy or impression through what they make and share. There might also be a drive to indulge, experience, and love. This house has a positive reputation but the chart ruler here depending on sign, planet, aspect may indicate a struggle to enjoy life or express one's creativity. There may be a need to shine, fight, rebel, create a new path. A desire for adventure, admiration, romance, and leisure can exist in a way that is desperate or hard to satisfy. The 5th House has been interpreted as a place of self-discovery, carefreeness, play, or self-creation and in this sense, there is a huge push to be confident in oneself and to let your energy or vitality burn. The 5th House has also been interpreted as a place to look at how you learn and celebrate others and through them also learn about and celebrate the self. This can take a lot of giving and risk. Because of these aspects bravery and generosity is this chart ruler's crown.

~6th House~

This is the house of the everyday - habits, work, physical health, cleanliness, collaboration or teamwork, routine, service, help, support, practicality, skills, work ethic, pets, efficiency, uses. On paper this house can sound dull but similarly to the 2nd House the relationship of the tangible to the intangible can make interpretations or manifestations of this house sometimes hard to recognize. Work and health are two very common motivators for this placement. Other common motivators may be a desire to be useful, to heal others, to fix something, or possibly to be part of a team or cause. Depending on the influences involved a chart ruler in this house may spell out a person who craves recognition or reward for their status, good deeds, or accomplishments. There is nothing inherently wrong with this but it may cause a lack of fulfillment for the individuals. The chart ruler in the 6th House may work themselves to death or be distracted from people or things that truly feed their soul and help their mental health because they can get distracted with "the right way" to do things, with daily tasks they need to check off, or a sense of heavy duty. In this way modesty may be needed not to humble but to cut through the b.s. of more shallow pursuits and relationships. Some with this placement may need to be brought down to earth sometimes, just not in the way they or most may expect. Some may fear leaving their routine and habits, easily getting stuck in ruts. This will take courage to break routines or unhealthy habits, but it will also take self-discipline and even gratitude. Being thankful for the past and the present may help them to overcome fears of regret, failure, losing, or even imperfection. Boundaries, self-worth, discipline, physical and mental health, and self-sacrifice are all subjects that can make or break this placement's expression. Those with this placement likely want to be part of something that is bigger than them. Something that gives the everyday purposes or light. They can find this in the simple things and in everyday happenings. Because of that humility and gratitude are this chart ruler's crown.

~7th House~

The house that is all about relationships, you can expect that having your chart ruler here means plenty of action, karma, lessons, struggles, highs and lows to one's friendships, romances, rivalries, and enemies. This may have been a person who learned early on how important it is to get along with others or possibly to stand out from others. The chart ruler in the 7th does not automatically make one easygoing and cooperative. Mars or Aries in this house may drive someone to be competitive, overly independent, or antagonistic with others, finding this to bring them the most excitement or even peace in their life. Questions about relationships and who they are to others may always be part of their life. The 7th House is about projection and how you present yourself to others and how others reinforce your self. Those with their chart ruler in the 7th may find that they have deep insecurities about being loved and accepted. The chart ruler here may indicate someone who struggles a lot with boundaries, people pleasing, and balancing the needs of themselves vs. the needs of others. Even with a hotter or more self-focused influence like the Sun or fire element can find themselves easily losing themselves in others or forgetting to take care of themselves. Equality, respect, and honesty are pillars they need to build in their relationships. Some with this placement may need to unwrap their ego from their relationships and loved ones, others may need to overcome a fear of loneliness. They feel fulfilled when in a happy relationship. Things like self-love and healthy boundaries will be important for this placement but I would say their biggest virtues, what they will find strength from is with both unity and independence. 👑

~8th House~

How does the house of secrets, the taboo, intimacy, sharing, death, rebirth, inheritance, loans, and the metaphysical and occult motivate one and their life? This darker house can have abstract or intangible influences on one's self-expression. First those with their chart ruler in the 8th likely have a strong connection to their intuition, emotional side, depths, religious or spiritual beliefs, or psyche. They may have learned at a young age the importance of listening and of staying away from or investigating the dark, scary places of themselves and others. They learned about monsters under the bed or in the closet early on. One of the physical ways this house manifests is through physical intimacy. The 8th House rules over all forms of intimacy, physical or not. Those with their ruler in this house will likely have a life greatly impacted by this somehow. Maybe they are in tune with their body and libido, others may struggle to tame it or get in touch with it. Maybe they easily become attached and close with others, or maybe they are extremely guarded and detached. Chart ruler in the 8th commonly indicates someone who is more secretive or private. What they share or don't share with others may be a huge focus. Rewards and punishment for being overly open or overly closed may be a common challenge. A fear of looking weak, wrong, or bad can exist. Speaking of fear, this house rules over it. I could see someone with their chart ruler here struggle with nightmares in their life. This may be someone who struggles with timidness, or even acting cowardly. Others may be addicted to adrenaline, finding it an escape or confidence boost. Some assign psychology to this house and with this can be a huge desire to know and master the self. With the ruler here their self-awareness game may be strong. This is also the house of transformation and joint, inner, or (will)power. These people may very likely have vibrant, passionate, intense inner selves or personal lives that are very much hidden or a mystery to others. Abuse, trauma, and life-changing events are not exclusive to the 8th House but this placement may find immense insight, wisdom, and empowerment from them. Just like the cliche of the phoenix, they get stronger after turmoil, rising from the ashes. Vulnerability and compassion are their crown.

~9th House~

This is the house of travel and higher education but also philosophy, beliefs, meaning. Having your chart ruler here indicates high energy, enthusiasm or a zealous nature, curiosity, and optimism. A passion for learning and exploration, an open mind and heart, or a desire to be part of something higher and greater than them are common motivators. They may frequently find themselves asking philosophical questions throughout life or big pictured questions. Some simply like to think and wonder while others get too stuck on "what ifs" in their life. This placement is likely passionate about their beliefs and opinions. Even if their beliefs aren't rooted in religion or the spiritual, they may be opinionated and forceful about them. Being highly open and changeable about your beliefs may be a theme too. This could be a person who is very open-minded to different religions and cultures and wants to try them all in some capacity. Either way belief is central to their life and character. The 9th House can be associated with worldly matters, foreign affairs, how culture and ethics differ, form, and are practiced. Being a globetrotter may be a common manifestation or being highly active in politics or foreign relations. This house is also about rituals, publishing, hopes, the future, storytelling. Those with their ruler in this house may find they have a complex relationship with truth vs. lies or illusions. The duality between hope and despair may exist in their conflicts and challenges. There can be a thirst for knowledge, especially specialized, privileged, forbidden, or secret knowledge. These people may live in their own cages or horizons based on their beliefs. Their worldview may mean everything to them. Belief either in themselves or something else and curiosity are their crown.

~10th House~

Status, reputation, or reward, especially the material kind are the most likely motivators for someone with their chart ruler in the 10th. The 10th house is about career, reputation, ambition, public life, authority, parental influence, discipline, recognition, purpose. There may be a huge need for a great sense of purpose. Responsibility and reputation are hot topics for those with their chart ruler here. These may be two things that haunt or bring joy to them throughout life. A fear of failure, embarrassment, or a lack of control can be a huge challenge for this placement. Seeking approval from or rebelling from an authority figure may be a huge drive for some. Their self-expression is focused and monitored, criticized and restrained so it fits within their society or family. Matters of support and providing are important for those with this placement. Both receiving it and giving it may be challenging or rewarding. Those with this placement may be passionate about campaigning for or providing for those who lack help much like they may have lacked when younger. These people typically strive to be helpful, depended on, the leader or decision maker, the problem solver. Even those that are more independent, unconventional, and rebellious may find themselves leading a rag-tag team of outcasts. Control issues and obsession with career or work can be challenges. Many with this placement find purpose and identity through their career. Some are driven by places of fear and insecurity around control. But it is commitment and honor that makes up this placement's crown. Through these virtues/traits they can find strength and energy.

~11th House~

The 11th House is the house of social awareness, collective action and consciousness. How one fits in with society or a group is very important here. Individuality has a place in this house but the story is more about how one fits in or stands out with their individuality than just defining that individuality. The 11th House is also about friendship, acceptance, alienation, awareness, trends, the higher mind, intellect and intuition, wishes/aspirations. This tends to be a hopeful and extroverted house in terms of its general influence. Having your chart ruler here means you may find meaning and direction by being part of organizations or groups. There may also be a struggle to find people you belong with. Motivation tends to come from social expectations/pressures, societal norms, rebellion, isolation, idealism, or fear of missing out. Friends and peers may be very important to those who's ruler sits in this house. From an early age this individual learned the importance and need for acceptance by one's peers or may have found refuge, learning, and understanding in them. Expanding their mind and knowledge through others may be a drive for them. Having a charismatic and confident self-expression may be important for some, or finding those who celebrate or are attracted to their unique sense of self-expression. Those with this placement may sympathize with or find purpose through humanitarian pursuits. There can be a part of them that wants to do good on a large scale - to help humanity, the world, society. Motivation and a guide for the self may come from seeing the big picture and caring for groups or humanity. But depending on the sign, planet, and aspects having your ruler in this house may also cause one to be highly selfish and focused on how a group can benefit them. There may be a desire to control or dominate a group of people or organization. Conformity and nonconformity can also be pulled to one of the extremes with this individual. Getting carried away with group fear, hope, promises, deception, and division can also happen with these people. They can understand the pros and cons, the depths of tribalism. It is important for them to learn quickly a healthy separation between the self and the group. But ultimately tolerance of others and cooperation are this chart ruler's crown.

~12th House~

The House of the subconscious and hidden or secrets can be tricky to explain. When the chart ruler is in the 12th House one's motivation can be elusive or at times, they may feel that they lack motivation or that they struggle to express and define the self. Being introverted or shy is common with this placement. Getting to know oneself is a lifelong path for many with this placement. There can be a desire to be found, to discover from the self and from others something meaningful, a desire to be connected spiritually, for intense intimacy, or possibly a feeling of wholeness. They themselves may struggle to pinpoint their desires, needs, and motivations, but once discovered they can be highly empowered. This is also the house of isolation, loss of power, loss of ego or identity, and loss in general. This person may confront many uncomfortable questions, truths, or experiences surrounding loss. This house shares similar themes with the 4th and 8th Houses - family karma and secrets, depth, psychology or psyche, spirituality, magic, intuition. A yearning to understand the self can be present for those with this placement. There may also be a drive to understand themselves and others through spiritual lenses. A drive to heal and help may exist here as well. This house covers many intense and bleaker subjects, but it is associated with surrender, forgiveness, reconnection, rebirth, reparation, hidden strengths or potential, and the good and bad of spirituality, oneness, and karma. People with this placement may be natural healers, counselors, or teachers. Fearing or embracing loneliness and separation may be a common manifestation. Through the dynamic between creation and destruction that this house has, they can find great insight and power from their pain. Empathy and listening to one's soul or intuition are what makes up their crown.

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binniebakery · 3 months

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Your Biggest Fan!

Rockstar!Yeonjun x Fem!Reader, Strangers to ?? (fwb? teehee) Slightly Suggestive! ♡ Summary: Your best friend forces you to attend a local rock group’s concert. You weren’t expecting much until said group’s lead guitarist catches your eye with a wink and a smile, now he’s all you can think about. Little do you know you’ve caught his attention too. ♡ Warnings: smoking, some drinking, n cursing, the sexual tension go crazy, yeonjun is kinda mean, almost burns reader with a cig, this is not proofread! ♡ A/N: finally! After so long i post this lmaoo tbh i had the biggest writer’s block for this fic (I cringed while every second writing this so I very much hate it but o well!) but as promised this was going to be my next one!! moawajunnies please enjoy!!

“Ah, shit– I spilled my drink!” Your friend groaned and you looked from your phone to see part of her outfit drenched in beer. It’s a good thing she was wearing all black. “You alright?” you ask, joining her in assessing the damage.

“Yeah, just clumsy..” She then excuses herself to search for something to wipe the beverage off, mumbling a ‘just as the concert was about to start’ as she squeezes through the crowd. There was probably a low chance she’d make it back to your spot in the very front.

You turn back to the screen, watching the timer tick down. Three minutes left and the crowd was starting to get more impatient by the second, internally cringing at the way you were getting shoved up against the barricade.

God, this was not your type of event at all, not with the amount of smelly drunk attendees. You were only here because you were dragged.

Time went by surprisingly quick as your subway surfer’s gameplay was cut quickly to an end. Music began to roar across the small outside garage and you felt the bass pump through your veins.

A group of five males walk up on stage, the tallest member, their leader, smiling and waving as he approaches his spot, dimples on display as he held his large keyboard guitar.

The drummer, your best friend's favorite, had blonde hair curled perfectly against his handsome features. Tapping his drumsticks with a grin as the crowd roared his name. “Kai! Kai! Kai!”

The group’s bassist and lead guitarist walk in, jumping and showing off their skills with nimble fingers, causing the crowd to get louder and louder. The lead guitarist’s brown wolf cut bouncing as he smirked and waved, black-haired bassist motioning his hands for the crowd to scream louder.

The perfect combination of charisma and attitude for a rock band.

Lastly, the lead vocalist runs on stage, microphone headset attached to his head as he stops front in center. His eyeliner smeared in just the right way, his soft orange hair a bright contrast to his torn and tattered outfit. Immediately you could tell he was the main attraction as fans roared.

Though you can’t say you could disagree, this man had an aura, and it was becoming more intense the longer you stared at him.

Said male lifts his chin to the crowd, a confident smile as fans swooned. “How are we doin’ tonight!?” The place shook and you felt the air grow thicker with every second. You felt the need to join in, feeling the energy shoot through your veins. At this point thoughts of where your best friend was had completely left your mind.

“Let’s fucking go then! This one’s called ‘Growing Pain’!” He kicks and the notes begin to blare through the speakers.

To say these guys weren’t talented would be the biggest understatement in history. The presence they served was beyond comprehensible and although you had never listened to their music prior, you felt immediately entranced by their stage presence.

Their lead singer especially. He had the attitude of a true rockstar, grabbing his water bottle and splashing the water on himself and the crowd after taking his sip. You were completely lost in the character portrayed in front of you, and you had the perfect view too.

As the concert went on, you came to learn the lead singer’s name was Yeonjun, and this Yeonjun was definitely eye candy.

‘Dreamer’ was one of their slower songs, but the crowd seemed to adore it. The sensual combination of the boy’s voices mixing together and harmonizing to create a sexy and attractive atmosphere and you felt practically high on the sound.

You still couldn’t take your eyes off Yeonjun. The way his body moved and the way he always seemed to linger in your part of the stage didn’t help either.

“Let me break it down for you..” Yeonjun’s gaze lands onto yours and you hold eye contact. You feel your body buzz at the interaction. The singer bites his lip as the leader of the group sings his verse, Yeonjun’s eyes never shifting from your position.

Damn, he was good at his job.

The rest of the concert proceeds like that, you and Yeonjun exchanging stares and at one point he winks at you, mouthing a ‘call me’ as his hand waves. You immediately flush at the boldness. He knew how to really interact with his audience.

The concert ends and you finally meet up with your friend, flusteredly attempting to explain the interactions you received and she groans. “Fuck– lucky! I’m so mad I wasn’t able to get back to the front, but at least we both enjoyed the concert..” She smiles weakly and you pat her back. Suddenly you feel a large hand tap your shoulder.

Why the hell was the band’s lead singer standing behind you?

“Hey.” Yeonjun smiles and he tilts his shades upwards, as if you wouldn’t have recognized him. Were the shades supposed to be some sort of disguise? He was literally still wearing the same outfit as earlier, sweat droplets still falling down the sides of his face and you can’t believe the fact that nobody has noticed him yet.

“Oh! Uh– well I gotta go– see you later y/n!” Your friend coughs and runs off to her car. You watch her leave with a confused look. I mean, you two did come to the concert in your designated cars, but what the hell was that about?

You turn back to Yeonjun embarrassed. “Ah, sorry… how can I help?”

Really? The hottest member of the band is talking to you and you're asking him how you can help like he’s a customer at a grocery store?

Yeonjun chuckles and stares you down, tongue in cheek, and you shiver from the attention.

“I wanted to get a better look at you, pretty face was starin’ at me the whole concert.”

You laugh nervously and place your hands on your hips. You decided that you’d entertain him. “Well, how could I not? Your performance really caught my attention.” You prayed to whatever God was out there that Yeonjun couldn’t sense the way your entire body tensed from his gaze.

“Mine or my band’s?” He smirks and you feel a lump in your throat. You wanted to just pass out then and there.

“Y- yours of course..” You mumble, toying with the hem of your outfit. Since when did a man make you so nervous?

“Is that so..?” He steps closer to you and offers his hand. “You wanna grab a drink or a cig?” He tilts his head and you stare at him with wide eyes. You felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“Uh.. sure…? What about your bandmates though?” You were really trying to remain unfazed by his forwardness.

“They'll be doing their own thing, let's go yeah?” Yeonjun gently grabs your wrist and is pulling you along with him, fully oblivious to the stares you were receiving from the concert’s remaining attendees.

Yeonjun takes you backstage, and you could hear your heartbeat thumping throughout your ears as he opened the door to his changing room.

The room was dimly lit, with a crappy light flickering every few minutes. Yeonjun’s clothes were tossed around, makeup vanity in disarray, and gifts and flowers from fans were neatly placed in the corner on a table. You hold your breath as Yeonjun closes the door behind him, lock clicking

You had no idea what was going on or how you even got in this situation, you had simply just attended this concert for the sake of your friend not wanting to come alone. Now here you were, backstage in the lead singer’s dressing room and you had no idea what he wanted with you.. but the burning feeling inside your stomach begged you to stay and your curiosity grew.

“Make yourself comfy, or just stand there, I won’t rush you.” Yeonjun laughs as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket. He lights it and holds it out to you.

He places the end towards your mouth and you inhale, Yeonjun licks his lips as he watches the way your mouth wraps around it. “Darling.. you really know how to tease a guy huh?”

You stare at each other as you exhale the smoke and the burning in your throat is nothing compared to the burning heat throughout your body. This man had an effect on you in the same way you were affecting him.

You take this opportunity to stare up at Yeonjuns face, his features even more handsome now that you were this close. You take in the way his damp hair sat perfectly on his face, the smell of sweat and his cologne radiating off of him. The choker he wore called your attention to his neck and the way his sweat had dried mostly but you could still make out where the droplets had sat. You swallow and your eyes find their way back to Yeonjun’s.

Yeonjun notices your tension and smirks. “Like what you see pretty girl?” God why was he so fucking attractive.

“Maybe I do.. Is there an issue with that?” You stare at Yeonjun and the look on your face is enough for him to know what you wanted. You really wanted to regain control of the situation, so you decided to tease him further. “Yeonjun, right?.. You sure you wanna be alone with me in this room right now?”

Yeonjun scoffs at your reply. “Why? You trynna be one of my girls tonight?” Yeonjun quirked an eyebrow at you with a smug look, casually leaning against the doorframe. Your breath hitched.

You bite your lip at the suggestion, what was this man playing at? “And what if I do?”

Oh, you were playing with fire.

“You sure you want this? You know how many girls would kill for your position right now?” Yeonjun queries as he carries himself over to you. It finally dawns on you that you both really were alone in his dressing room and that his body was too close to yours, completely leaving you trapped between him and the wall behind you.

You could feel the way Yeonjun’s body heat begged to intertwine with yours, you felt your muscles weaken under him as he placed an arm on each side of your face on the wall. The room felt smaller and the scent of the cigarette in his mouth lingers around you as his breath alone practically envelops your senses.

Honestly, at this point, it didn’t matter how many girls he’s been with, hell you could care less if he even contacted you after this. You wanted him.

“I know well what I’m getting into.” You confidently stare up into Yeonjun’s intense gaze, feeling the way his eyes are scanning every curve of your body.

“Alright tough girl, can you handle this though?” Yeonjun grabs your wrist and pulls the cigarette from his mouth with the other hand, placing it near your skin just enough so you feel the slight burn.

“Ah– ah! Yeonjun–!” You choke and he cackles at the way you weakly attempt to pull away. You stare up at him, eyes slightly watery but the way your legs feel like jelly from the way he's treating you makes you slightly crave more.

“Relax darlin’, I wouldn’t hurt a single hair on you.” Yeonjun drops the cigarette to the floor and crushes it with his boot, still holding your wrist tightly.

He pulls your wrist over your head and he finally pushes his body up to yours. You inhale into his shoulder and Yeonjun’s beaming from the way you just lean into him. He relished in the way you let him do what he wanted to you.

“Stay for me, will you? Kinda like the way you looked up at me from the crowd with that pretty face.” The biggest grin spreads across Yeonjun’s handsome face and of course, who were you to say no? You were more than willing to let this man break you.

After all, you were now his biggest fan.

#txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x y/n #txt x y/n #BakeryTreat♡

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thepastisalreadywritten · 5 months

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By Brian Melley, AP News

13 January 2024

LONDON (AP) — An unlikely refugee from the war in Ukraine — a rare Asiatic black bear — arrived at his new home in Scotland on Friday and quickly took to a meal of cucumbers and watermelon.

The 12-year-old Yampil was named for a village in the Donetsk region where he was one of the few survivors found by Ukrainian troops in the remains of a bombed-out private zoo.

Yampil, who had previously been called Borya, was discovered by soldiers who recaptured the devastated city of Lyman during the Kharkiv counteroffensive in the fall of 2022, said Yegor Yakovlev of Save Wild, who was among the first of many people who led the bear to a new life.

The bear was found in a menagerie that had long been abandoned by its owners.

Almost all the other animals had died of hunger, thirst or were struck by bullets or shrapnel and some were eaten by Russian troops.

Yampil narrowly missed the same fate, suffering a concussion from a projectile that landed nearby.

“The bear miraculously survived,” said Yakovlev, also director of the White Rock Bear Shelter, where the bear recovered.

“Our fighters did not know what to do with him, so they started looking for rescue.”

What followed was an odyssey that your average bear rarely makes, as he was moved to Kyiv for veterinary care and rehab, then shipped to a zoo in Poland, then to an animal rescue in Belgium, where he spent the past seven months, before landing in the United Kingdom.

Brian Curran, owner of Five Sisters Zoo in West Calder, Scotland, said his heart broke when he learned of the plight of the threatened Asiatic black bear.

“He was in terrible condition; five more days and they wouldn’t have been able to save him,” Curran said. “We were just so amazed he was still alive and well.”

The bear was skinny but not malnourished when he was found, said Frederik Thoelen, a biologist at the Nature Help Center in Belgium.

He now is estimated to weigh a healthy 440 pounds (200 kilograms), Thoelen said.

The nature center in Belgium, which usually treats injured wildlife and returns them to their natural settings, has taken several animals rescued from the war in Ukraine, including a wolf, a caracal cat and four lions, though those animals had not experienced the ordeal Yampil endured.

It was remarkable how calm Yampil was when he arrived in Belgium, Thoelen said.

The bear was trained in the past two weeks to move from his enclosure to the crate that would transport him across Belgium to Calais, France, then across the English Channel on a ferry to Scotland.

Pastries from a local bakery were used for good measure to lure him Thursday into the cage, where he was sedated for the journey.

“We want to use the food that he likes most, and for most bears — and for people also — it’s sweet, unhealthy foods,” Thoelen said.

Thoelen had a sense of the bear’s weight as he drove the crate to the port.

“Every time when we had a red light or a traffic jam, when the bear moved a little bit, you could feel the van moving also,” he said.

“You could feel it was a heavy animal in the back of the car.”

Yampil arrived at the zoo about 15 miles (25 kilometers) west of Edinburgh and immediately made himself at home.

He feasted on cukes — said to be his favorite food — and melon, said Adam Welsh, who works at Five Sisters.

The Asiatic black bear is listed on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species as vulnerable to extinction in the wild, where it can be found in central and southern Asia, Russia, and Japan.

It’s known for the distinctive white crescent patch on its chest that gives it the nickname moon bear. It can live for up to 30 years in zoos.

It’s not clear if the bear will go into hibernation. The winter has been warmer than usual but colder days are on the horizon.

The zoo has other bears, but Yampil is the only Asian bear and unique in other ways.

“We’ve had circus bears, for example, that have been rescued,” Welsh said.

“We’ve had bears rescued from places like roadside restaurants where they’ve been used as kind of roadside attractions and been kept in subpar conditions. But this is the first time that we’ve worked with an animal that’s been rescued from a war zone.”

youtube

Scottish zoo welcomes black bear which survived war in Ukraine

13 January 2024

🖤🐻🤎

#Asiatic black bear #Ukraine #Scotland #Yampil #Borya #Save Wild #White Rock Bear Shelter #Five Sisters Zoo #Nature Help Center #Belgium #Poland #International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species #moon bear #save animals #protect wildlife #threatened species #refugee bear #private zoo #Youtube

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deliciousangelfestival · 5 months

Text

Unspoken Bonds | 2 - B.Barnes

Character: Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Reader

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , -

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Six months ago. Before Bucky saw you in the coma states.

It was just another typical day at the hospital for you. Leading surgeries, enduring bombastic side-eyes from your colleagues, and overhearing gossip whispered behind your back. During a moment of respite, you find yourself at the hospital cafe, sipping your coffee and engrossed in the medical records of the upcoming patient.

However, your routine was about to take an unexpected turn. A group of new residents led by the head nurse entered the cafe.

To your surprise, amidst the group, you spotted someone familiar – Bucky, wearing the distinctive attire of a resident at this hospital. Your reaction was so sudden that your coffee cup almost spilled as you hissed in disbelief.

The head nurse noticed your presence and nodded in greeting before ushering the new residents to their next destination. Bucky, however, couldn't resist a smirk as he noticed your reaction. It was clear he orchestrated this surprise to catch you off guard.

As Bucky became the center of attention among the new residents, a hushed conversation unfolded within their group.

Resident 1: “So, the rumor is true. The famous surgeon from this hospital is a lone wolf.”

Resident 2: “I heard she has a big temper.”

Among the whispers, Bucky overheard a significant piece of information.

Resident 3: “I heard the hospital director quietly decided to appoint Dr. Y/N as the head surgeon.”

Resident 4: “So it's true, there's a silent battle between Dr. Kyle, the hospital director's grandson, and Dr. Y/N, the lone wolf. Oh my gosh… This is so exciting.”

The discussion caught the attention of the head nurse, who wasn't pleased with the gossip circulating among the new residents.

"Four of you! Leave if you want to gossip," he reprimanded, ending their speculative conversation. The chatty gossipers quickly silent. But not Bucky’s mind.

Despite being in a relationship with Bucky for a year, you never disclosed to him the significant news that you were the next candidate for the Chairman of the Department of Surgery.

The dynamics of your relationship were unique – while you effortlessly saved lives in the operating room, you struggled with the cold treatment from your colleagues at the hospital.

Unaware of the internal battles you faced, Bucky inadvertently discovered the truth through the gossip circulating among the new residents. Learning about the potential promotion, he realized the magnitude of the challenges you silently endured. He believed you deserved better than the isolation and hostility from your colleagues.

Throughout your time together, you never vented your frustrations about your colleagues to Bucky. Instead, after intimate moments, your discussions revolved around surgery.

The passion in your voice when explaining complex procedures fascinated Bucky. You made intricate surgeries sound engaging and straightforward, revealing your genuine enthusiasm for being a surgeon.

*************

Bucky, now a heartthrob among the residents, was the subject of attention from a few female colleagues who sought his company for coffee or desired to share the same shift with him.

As rumors spread, Bucky got summoned to your office, and the hospital staff, quick to believe baseless gossip, pitied him for facing the "scary doctor."

Entering your office, Bucky couldn't help but find amusement in the ease with which his colleagues accepted unfounded rumors. It wasn't his first time in your office; he had been there before when he brought his sister for treatment.

You continued to read through the patient's medical record as Bucky stood beside you, his presence lingering in the room. You questioned his unexpected appearance without lifting your head, "What are you doing here?"

Bucky replied with a hint of determination, "I always wanted to be a doctor."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but still focused on the paperwork. "I know, but why this hospital?"

Bucky's eyes softened as he explained, "Call me sentimental, but my sister was healed in this hospital, and the main reason is you."

Lifting your head, you found him standing right beside you. Before you could react, he leaned down and kissed your lips, leaving you momentarily stunned. "Aren't you going to congratulate me?" he teased.

Cupping his face with your hands, you sighed, "This place is too corrupt and political."

Bucky chuckled, "My other jobs are also like this. I'm not afraid. Instead, I'm worried about you."

You raised an eyebrow, questioning his concern. "Me?"

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I heard so many rumors about you. I even heard you have two horns."

A chuckle escaped your lips. "And I heard that you have a quiet battle with Kyle."

You scoffed at the mention of Kyle. "He's not even in the same level as me."

Bucky smiled, appreciating the confidence in your response. Then, unexpectedly, you asked him to join one of your surgeries. Bucky hesitated, feeling unprepared, but you assured him he only needed to observe and learn.

The surgical room buzzed with activity as you and Bucky prepared for the procedure. The patient lay on the operating table, and Bucky, dressed in surgical attire, stood by your side, observing your every move.

As the surgery progressed, you explained each step to Bucky, your voice calm and confident. Your hands moved with precision, navigating through the complexities of the operation. Bucky couldn't help but be impressed by the seamless coordination of the surgical team and your ability to handle the most intricate details of the procedure.

The atmosphere in the room was intense, yet you maintained your composure. Bucky watched in awe as you skillfully addressed the challenges that arose during the surgery. It became clear to him why you were regarded as one of the best surgeons in the hospital.

As the surgery concluded successfully, you and Bucky stepped away from the operating table. You looked at him, a hint of pride in your eyes. "Impressed?" you asked.

Bucky nodded, a newfound respect for your skills evident on his face. "More than I expected. You make it look like an art form."

You smiled, appreciating the compliment. "It's all about focus and passion. Anyone can learn the techniques, but it takes dedication to truly master the art of surgery."

Inspired by what he witnessed, Bucky felt a renewed sense of purpose in pursuing his medical career. The surgery showcased your expertise and ignited a flame of determination within him.

After the successful surgery, other doctors invited Bucky for dinner, an event treated by Dr. Kyle. However, Kyle had a hidden agenda for inviting Bucky. He discovered that you chose Bucky to join your surgery. It was an unusual move on your part, as you typically selected residents with at least a year of experience. This piqued Kyle's curiosity about Bucky.

Bucky couldn't help but notice the hushed whispers and covert glances, making it apparent that the invitation wasn't extended to you. Fury simmered within Bucky as he realized that despite your crucial role in the surgery, no one seemed to appreciate your hard work.

Reluctantly, Bucky was about to decline the invitation, but a timely interruption saved him. His little sister, Amy, came running and hugged him with enthusiasm. "Buckaroo...!"

"Uugh," Bucky grunted as Amy's head accidentally hit his stomach. "What are you doing here, Amy?"

"I just finished my practice, and I'm here so we could grab dinner together," she replied with a wide smile.

The interaction between Amy and Bucky didn't go unnoticed by other doctors, colleagues, and Kyle. Seizing the opportunity, Bucky decided to use Amy as an excuse to skip the dinner arranged by Kyle's entourage. "Sorry, I couldn't join you guys."

"It's fine, some other time," one of the doctors responded.

As Bucky made his exit, Amy spotted you emerging from the lift. Excitedly, she yelled, "Dr. Y/N!" and hugged you. Amy was aware that you were her doctor and that you shared a special relationship with her brother.

Surprised but pleased to see Amy, you rubbed her hair affectionately. Brimming with enthusiasm, Amy suggested, "Doctor, let's grab dinner together. I found a great restaurant on my Instagram. My brother will pay."

You chuckled at her infectious energy. She was a stark contrast to the pale, wheeled-chair-bound Amy that Bucky had brought to the hospital during more challenging times. Patting Amy's shoulder, you addressed Bucky, "I'm sorry, I need to rest because there will be another surgery."

Bucky widened his eyes. "Another one?"

"Yup," you confirmed with a smile before entering your office. "Next time."

Left outside your office, Bucky and Amy exchanged glances. Amy playfully murmured, "Bro, you need to step up your game."

Bucky, confused, asked, "What?"

Amy grabbed Bucky's hand. "Nothing. Let's go!!!" She dragged Bucky away, leaving you to your preparations for the upcoming surgery.

After an exhausting surgery with a heavy burden on your shoulders – a high-demand, risky, and dangerous procedure for the President's grandchild – you threw yourself onto the couch, feeling the weight of the intricate challenge you successfully conquered.

The patient had a rare congenital anomaly, and you were well aware that the assignment was intended to make you fail. But, once again, you defied expectations.

Amidst the aftermath of the surgery, you noticed a takeaway box on your table. Opening it, you discover a meal from Bucky, accompanied by a note. A smile spread across your face as you sent him a message: "Thank you."

The following day, Bucky found himself engrossed in writing a report when Robby, a new friend at the hospital, approached him. Robby sighed, relaying an exciting piece of information, "You were lucky not to join the gathering dinner last night."

Curious, Bucky inquired, "Why?"

Robby began to unravel the events, "Nothing was wrong until Dr. Kyle suddenly smashed his phone."

Bucky couldn't help but suspect a connection to you. "Let me guess, something related to Dr. Y/N?"

Robby snapped his fingers, affirming Bucky's suspicion, "Bingo. I found out from the nurse. Dr. Kyle was angry because Dr. Y/N successfully operated on the VVIP patient."

Bucky raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "Guess who the patient was?"

"Who?" Bucky asked.

"The grandson of the President," Robby revealed.

Bucky's eyes widened in realization. "Wow."

"I know, right? With her success, that means her position as the next Chairman of the Department of Surgery is secured," Robby added.

Bucky pondered the situation, understanding why Kyle was so agitated. Before he could delve further into his thoughts, a message from you appeared on his phone: "10 p.m. Usual place."

**********

Bucky waited anxiously for you at the usual hotel, feeling a foreboding that stretched the wait longer than usual. The door finally opened, and he saw you stumbling in, looking drunk. Your face was flushed, and you greeted him with a forced smile that couldn't conceal the melancholy beneath.

Bucky helped you to the bed and gently removed your shoes, his worry growing. "Where were you?"

You giggled, your words slightly slurred. "The old man invited me to celebrate the surgery. Now the hospital has a Platinum patient."

Bucky couldn't help but feel a knot forming in his stomach. He recognized 'the old man' as Dr. Jonathan, the hospital director.

You extended your arm, beckoning him. "Come here, let me hold you."

Bucky joined you on the bed, allowing you to cling to him in your intoxicated state. You murmured, "Finally, I fulfilled that old man's wish."

Bucky's concern deepened as he questioned, "Why do you want to do what Dr. Jonathan asked? None of the people from the hospital appreciate your work."

There was a moment of silence before you stared at the ceiling. "I'm an orphan. I've been living at the orphanage since I was a baby."

Bucky's body tensed at the revelation, a heavy weight settling over them.

"I was a quiet kid and preferred to read books. There weren't many fairy tale books at the orphanage, and the only thing available was anatomy books."

Bucky interjected with disbelief, "What?"

You chuckled, "Imagine a 2-year-old kid reading anatomy books."

Bucky couldn't fathom it. Despite his impoverished background, he still had access to cartoons and comic books.

"I memorized the names of the bones and brain anatomy. Someone from the orphanage told it to the old man. I didn't know Dr. Jonathan was the biggest sponsor and a doctor. I thought he was just a volunteer in the kitchen."

You continued, "He was impressed and nurtured me to be a doctor. It's nice to get acknowledgment. Since then, I've been hungry for attention."

"Entering college, I found out that I was used to motivate Kyle to become a doctor. But it backfired because he hates me. Well, nobody likes to be compared."

"Since then, the battle with Kyle started. Later, I found out his skills are not as good as mine. From that, I knew I deserved the position, and I wanted to make that old man proud of me."

You rubbed your head against Bucky's shoulder. "He's the only family I have."

Then, with a laugh, you murmured, "I'm a pitiful person, right?"

Bucky kissed your forehead, feeling an unspoken dread settle in. "No, you're not.”

That night, neither of them did anything but embrace each other to ward off their loneliness. They felt something lurking, a silent specter suggesting an impending separation, but neither could pinpoint what it was.

The following day, Bucky woke up to find you not beside him. You emerged from the bathroom, ready to go out.

"You're leaving?" Bucky questioned, the feeling of impending doom lingering.

You approached him, caressing his face. "I'm going to give a speech at the seminar today."

Bucky responded, "Be careful." He kissed your forehead.

You smiled at him, but an unspoken heaviness hung in the air, and an inexplicable sadness lingered in your eyes. Deep down, you couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that this might be the last time you'd see him for a long while, "Thank you for staying with me last night."

Bucky felt the weight in your words. "Don't say that. You matter to me."

You chuckled. "Goodbye. See you when I get back."

As you left, a heavy silence settled in the room, leaving Bucky with an ache in his chest and an unsettling uncertainty

Bucky couldn't shake off the discomfort when you said, 'Goodbye.'

Little did he know, it would be his biggest regret. He should have chased after you, stopped you from leaving.

Because the next time he saw you, you were like a sleeping beauty in the ICU room.

Right now, a prince's kiss couldn't wake you. Only a miracle could.

But that miracle came with a price—revenge. Bucky needed to find out who turned his girl into an accident while grappling with the inexplicable feeling that something had already begun to separate them.

Author Note :

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

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Author Note: Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

If you've got any cool ideas or prompts, whether for this series or any other series, feel free to share them with me!

Just drop them in my ASK/SEND REQUEST box.

Can't wait to hear your awesome suggestions! 🚀💬

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greenbirdgreen · 3 months

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good dogs

design choice info beneath the cut

from the top left, clockwise: the first wolf is an holarctic grey wolf, no specific subspecies, for the ashen wolf.

second wolf is a red wolf for the rusty wolf; red wolves live in coastal areas and their range would've once expanded through the Florida's everglades, so they make for good jungle wolves.

third is an aardwolf—a close relative of hyenas—for the striped wolf. cute guy :D

beneath the aardwolf is an eastern timber wolf for the tricolor wolf. eastern timber wolves are either a subspecies or a species of wolf; which they are is still under debate.

next beneath the timber wolf is a k gene wolf for the black wolf. k gene wolves—or any predominately black wolf in north america—is a wolf that has dog blood in its ancestor. it seemed fitting to place it next to the dog.

the dog is the pale wolf, or the original wolf. it's modeled after a great pyranese; i kept one ear floppy, in a reference to the supposed domestication syndrome, but the other one up as a nod to spitz-type dogs. it's got grey around the muzzle.

the white wolf is actually a Great Plains wolf, not an arctic wolf; it's the snowy wolf. this is grizzer from the international wolf center in ely, minnesota. RIP. he was used to people, so he fit well next to the dog.

finally the african painted dog is the spotted wolf. i tried to mimic the model's spots, as each dog as a unique pattern.

thanks for reading!!

#minecraft wolves #minecraft wolf #minecraft #wolf #quick break from comms... now back to work!!

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yorshie · 5 months

Text

Ritual in Midnight Blue

Bayverse Foot Leo x Reader

Warning: SFW as in there's not smut, but this one shot is exploring darker themes. Dub con, fear of violence, basically a relationship under coercion. Wolf x rabbit vibes

Song used as reference: I know I’m a wolf by discovery of an afterlife

There was a certain ritual to it, even if the shadows of the little unknowns clung to the shapes and curves of him, tinted every gesture and phrase he offered. The weight of each interaction was a small pebble placed on the center of your chest, a combination of weight that made each breath a struggle, an echo of his heavy hand around your throat.

You never heard his arrival. In all things he was silent, a mere breeze floating through your room until he drew back whatever curtain he hid himself with, whatever magic he wielded that allowed him to pass unseen. Between one blink and the next the mundane feel of your home would peel away, leaving a dream like countenance in his wake.

It was late when you stepped out of your shower and into the little hallway that connected to your living room, tiredness pulling at your limbs and navigating more so by memory than any visual cue, when your foot stopped just shy of where the soft yellow light of your bathroom gave way deep blue.

The old clock you thrifted a few months ago was loud in the dark, the tic tic tic of the iron hand moving around the only sound beyond the gurgle of water passing through pipes. Normal sounds, but the hair along the nape of your neck lifted, the ghost of a breath glancing over the thin skin. You swallowed heavily, every muscle tightening to attention at the thought of what you’d find waiting for you by the window in your living room. That he was waiting for you.

It was a struggle to pick out the shape of him against the blue-black shadows that blanketed the corners of the room. They swallowed up every detail, until you’d half convinced yourself you were staring at your empty armchair.

The ruse was broken when he turned his head just right and the lamplight outside your window glanced off his irises. The points of blue shine gave nothing away as he watched you step fully into the room, and your mind turned to the usual comparison of a wolf deciding a rabbit’s fate.

It was always like this, every time he followed you home. A long moment of silence when you fancied he was internally struggling, arguing against whatever want curled in his chest. You often wondered, eyes drifting to the dark armor, the swords strapped across his back, if this would be your last night. If his sense of duty would outweigh whatever conflict was brewing deep within him.

He took up too much space, too much oxygen in your little room, and as the silence lengthened you turned inwards, mind following a steady path to the tune of the metal clock hands, back to the night he first assessed you.

The night you almost died.

Your gaze trailed down to his hands, the three fingers almost hidden completely by the gauntlets covering them, remembering the steady way he pressed the flat of his blade to your throat, the strength corded in his grip when he had your wind pipe in his palm, and entertained the thought that you were already dead. That he had killed you the night you’d been too stupid to walk away. These midnight meetings were a sad farce of an afterlife, but every brush with him felt a little bit like death, a little bit like borrowed time. Your life belonged to him, after all. He held the hands of the clock your heart beat to firmly in his grasp.

After a long moment, he spoke the magic words that freed you from your stand off, voice low and rich, the notes slipping past your defenses and reeling you back in from the gentle drift of your thoughts:

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

Your spine softened as unrealized tension slipped away, and you almost told him ‘you should. I don’t know why you haven’t. It’s only a matter of time’, but instead you swallowed the words, let them cut the inside of your throat, and watched as he stood slowly and crossed the room to your little table.

He started undoing the buckles of his armor, up underneath his arms, shedding steel and leather and placing it neatly on top of the wooden surface, eyes on his task and not on the way you lingered to watch him.

‘What’s your name?’ You wanted to ask, watching as the little pile grew, ‘why are you doing this?’ A thick belt of knives, the sharp edges glinting, clattered as he set them down, and you inhaled sharply as the desire to yell the next question at him bubbled up behind your tongue, ‘what do you WANT?’

At the sound he paused, hands smoothing down the leather of the harness that kept his swords in place, his beak tilted towards the table in a downward angle that hid his expression. You were struck with a visual spark, comparing the slow strip to the first few times he visited, back when this part of the ritual didn’t exist and he would spend the night tucked into a corner of whatever room you were in.

Watching you, silently, haunting your footsteps as you moved about your nightly routine. Those nights were sleepless, when you still weren’t sure if he would rethink his decision and end your life before you even realized it was gone.

His hands resumed their task, and the slight noise of his sword sheaths being placed beside his armor on the table brought you back once more. You must have made some small movement at the sight of the polished, meticulously maintained weapons, because his head tilted, eyes cut to the side to pin you in place. The pop of blue against midnight black was your only clue as to where he was looking despite feeling his gaze like a physical caress.

Your shoulders touched the wall at your back, and you belatedly remembered that you were only wearing a towel, and despite having never broken his word there was very little in the way of protection between you and him.

Not that it would have made any difference. When he only looked at you patiently however, before returning his attention to the wraps along his arms, you wondered once more why he was doing this.

Why hadn’t he killed you the night you met, when your throat was in his hands and the cold contemplation on his face revealed he meant to? What stayed his hand, what continued to save your life every time you brushed up against him?

What did he gain, from these little encounters?

Your brow furrowed, contemplating, watching as he slowly unwrapped his arms, tendons and muscle catching on the light trailing out from the bathroom. The soft pattern of light rippling over his beak signaled his head turning right before you were pierced by his gaze again.

“Have you eaten?” He asked in that deceptively soft voice, starting to unravel the wide belt at his waist, fingers dipping to pull his tucked shirt out from underneath the material before tightening it back in place.

“Yes.” You whispered, not bothering to move, knowing he could be on you in an instant if he wanted, knowing he’d eventually tell you what to do. You watched as nimble fingers, covered in fine scars that you could make out even in the low light, undid a series of hidden buttons. With a small sigh through his nose, he reached backwards, arms curling up over his head and giving you a show of taunt muscles as he undid the cloth knotted behind his neck that kept his sleeves up and out of the way.

“Go lay down.” He ordered softly, tucking the cloth into a neat little circle before bending at the waist to reach his shoes, giving you a glimpse of the scars mapping out constellations amid the whorls of his shell where his shirt hung loose and open.

You half turned from the sight, swallowing down the warm, confused roll of your stomach, before the cool air tickled the back of your knees and you forced yourself to ask, “clothes?”

He looked up, face unreadable, taking in the oversized towel you clutched to yourself in a slow perusal, lingering on where the hem stopped just above your knees.

After another long moment, he nodded in acceptance, and you tiptoed into your room, shucked the towel and dressed in your pajamas in record time despite knowing he would stay out until you were safely under the covers.

You almost picked the sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, wanting the barrier, wanting something solid and safe between your skin and his scales, but the remembered way his eyes flashed in the dark eyeing the skin of your shoulders and calves stayed your hand. You settled for shorts and a tank top, something fit more so for the height of summer than the beginning of winter, but it was soft against your skin. You had the remembered feel of his fingers smoothing over the material in the back of your mind as you hurried to your bed.

This part of the ritual, you thought, pulling back your comforter and climbing in to settle in the dead center, didn’t start until after the Lull, when you thought he had forgotten about you.

The relief, thinking back to that period, was a tainted thing, a heady connection that a sick, twisted sense of longing had somehow crept its way into.

A rabbit should not long for this feeling, you knew, heartbeat racing and eyes closing when he purposefully let the floorboard just outside your bedroom creak in warning. A rabbit should not go along with the wolf.

After the two week Lull, where he did not visit you once, there was a breaking point for him where you think he almost granted your twisted wish. When he finally darkened your windowsill once more, a different edge of violent clung to him, upfront and bristling for conflict instead of the lethal patience he usually oozed.

Then, he hadn’t uttered a word, hadn’t patiently dismantled his gear. He’d appeared mid way through your dinner, bloody and breathing heavy like a bull. In the space between blinks he had you pinned half under your table, plates and cups flying when the edge of his shell hit a leg while pulling you down.

For the first time ever, you had tried to fight him, something you hadn’t even managed the night you met. The reflexive slap certainly wouldn’t have done anything if he had truly meant to end whatever was happening between you that night, but you tallied it in triumph later when you were alone, a silent indication to yourself that you weren’t just a rabbit, after all. At the time however, you weren’t sure he even felt it, certainly he didn’t flinch, only bore down on you, teeth flashing in the low light.

You didn’t even have the time to scream, terror freezing the cry in your throat when his beak slammed into the dip near your collar. But instead of the tight pain of teeth breaking into your artery, he gave a low, tortured keen. He shivered over you, deep breaths pressing you into the carpet, trapping you underneath him until dawn crept into the room and illuminated the streaks of red clinging to his scales.

There was never a repeat performance of that raw emotion ever again.

The following night he arrived later, so late you had let your guard down. You were already in bed when he appeared in your doorway. When you had only laid there, daze and skittish, panicking over the illusion of intimacy your bedroom granted, he had offered those beginning words once more, had taken his time to remove his gear where you could see before he joined you on the bed.

A dip in the mattress, a heavy knee by your own, brought you back again, and with a flutter of lashes you found him hovering, watching for the sign you were aware of him entering your space.

He was alien looking in the dark. The undershirt clung to his shoulders, doing little to hide the hard edges of keratin underneath. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t human, but it wasn’t until you first shared a bed with him, saw the shell curving where his spine should be, that you realized he must be a turtle.

You wondered passingly the first night, if it was a quirk of fate or the will of man that led him to occupy the shape he did now, if whatever way he came to be like this could also explain the apparent fascination he had with you.

What was he after, you thought again, as he placed his other knee beside your calf and stretched out over you. What was so special about this?

His hands, callused and cool, so much larger than your own, captured your wrists, led them to opposite sides of the mattress and pressed them tightly into the comforter. His fingers settled into their remembered places, and you fought not to stiffen, remembering the bruises he’d left on your wrists the first couple nights of restraining you, how you’d silently cried while he tried to learn how to hold you.

His thumbs whispered over the rushing dash of your heart locked underneath the thin skin of your wrists, and you just knew he was remembering as well.

Your legs shifted under the covers, restless for what came next, feeling the ghostly imprint of his beak slotting against the heartbeat thundering just under your jaw, the weight of him keeping you pinned for as long as he wanted.

He deviated though, broke the next steps of the ritual, blue eyes holding your gaze captive in the dark before his head dipped and the lines of certainty were blurred with a shuffle of his knees and the weight of his cheek pressing against the swell of your stomach.

He sighed, the movement only discernible where his plastron cut into your hip bones, the tip of his beak nudging just under the protective cage of your ribs.

You couldn’t control the instinctual shiver that erupted at the sensation, the quiver in your stomach, the latent fear at the unknown that had you gasping at the ceiling.

Once more, in a whispered voice that finally brought a muffled noise from your mouth, he broke the ritual the two of you built over the months. “It’s alright, you’re alright.”

He held himself so carefully, so tightly over you, and for the first time your interactions were turned on their sides in your mind. You wondered if the way he held you down is more for his sake of control than any fear you’d slip away. Another shiver almost knocked you against his hold and a low rumble answered from deep in his chest.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He reiterated, and the heated line has the air bursting from you, the darkened ceiling disappearing in a haze as foggy stars took over your vision.

“Then why are you here?” You heard a voice ask, but it sounds foreign in your ears, a quiet, near silent break in character that you instantly wished you could take back.

He stilled over you, for a moment, before giving a slow pet of your hands with the side of his fingers. All your muscles tightened underneath him, shock mixing with alarm in your muddled mind at the soft touch, thoughts slow as quicksand sucked at the trail of thoughts you’d pieced together over the course of interacting with him.

He’d built the ritual, piece by piece, deviated and pushed the boundaries of what you were willing and comfortable with over and over, in order to get something he wanted. But what was it?

The answer hovered just out of reach, despite the way he’d patiently led you further and further each time, but the end goal stretched out in the darkness in front of you, hazy and indiscrete and unknown, unknown could get you killed-

His next words only confirmed your suspicions.

“You’re so soft.” He whispered, the words traveling through your skin and settling in your chest. His head dipped, gave the barest nuzzle to your mid section, and in concert to the little movement your brows crumpled over the revelation that burst like a star in your mind.

Oh… oh. Soft. Did he even know what he wanted, what he was chasing, pushing the both of you towards? Was this stilted, slow dance his way of feeling out, pushing up against your boundaries until he found the soft points he coveted?

If… if he stopped chasing the softness, would he kill you then?

Another slow pet of this thumb over the softest part of your wrist, lingering over the fine bones hidden underneath your skin, and another thought came unbidden to wash away the panicked edge of the others.

Why would he wait months, waste months, for this from you if there was any chance he’d end your life?

The thought had you sinking into your bed, thinking, careful to temper the blind hope of the errant thought with the immediate weight of the giant turtle over you. He was dangerous, a killer, but maybe, just maybe, you could trust him with this.

He held the position through the long hours of the night, not pushing for more, his breath slow and even against your stomach and his body slowly warming from the close proximity to yours.

You always promised yourself that you wouldn’t sleep, couldn’t possibly sleep, with him holding you so, but some times in between the slow, soft touches and the steady beat of his hear against your legs, you found yourself drifting off.

Your dreams were vague things that blended with reality, where you weren’t sure if you were pinned down like an insect to be studied or cradled like something precious, the only thing for certain is you couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

When you woke in the morning, something curled up in your right hand drew your attention, amid the absence of your strange nighttime suitor.

A little blossom, a delicate thing, safely tucked into the dip of your palm where it wouldn’t be crushed. You turned over the white petals carefully before bringing your cupped hand to your nose and inhaling.

Curiosity struck you at the subtle and sweet scent. Out of all the flowers, why would he pick jasmine?

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt leonardo #bayverse leonardo #TMNT foot leonardo #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #tw: dub con #tw: dark themes #dub con #dark themes

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thebroccolination · 5 months

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So, I had a tiny epiphany tonight.

I have divorced parents with diametrically opposed approaches to maintaining relationships with their children. My father is self-absorbed, manipulative, and insecure to the degree that even though he's intelligent, funny, and interesting, all three of his adult children believe our lives are better without him. My mother, on the other hand, has never been on the outs with any of us.

I didn't want to travel back to the States for the holidays this year, because 1) it's expensive, and 2) it's always, always emotionally exhausting in some way. I was fully prepared to spend it alone or with friends, but my mother came to Ireland to spend Christmas and New Year's with me.

Then I broke my foot. But that's another story.

Anyway, tonight we were having dinner, and I showed her the newly revised pitch for the book I'm writing. She doesn't dislike fantasy, but she's more of a romance gal, so my whole motivation in showing her was more of a, "Look, Mommy, I made a drawing for the fridge," kind of thing rather than a, "Here is a book you would choose and then tell your friends about," thing.

And as casual as can be, the way she has done since I was a child, she supported me.

She said she can feel it, that this upcoming year will be the year Big Things happen, and she said, "You're gonna write the movie screenplay for your book, and I'm gonna come to the premiere."

She's always been like this.

Once, when I was in high school, I was lying on my back near her desk and I said, "Remember that short story I wrote in first grade about the wolf who eats the hunter?"

She said, "I certainly do," and opened her desk's bottom drawer, took out a manila folder, and handed the looseleaf papers to me.

I've always felt humbled by her belief in me. Possibly because my father seems to see all of his children as extensions of himself, so his emotional support is forever conditional. Hers is just…always there. Unfailing, unquestioning.

And I've apologized to my mother over and over throughout the years for not succeeding more. For not making more of the support she's given me. She always seems so confused by my guilt.

Then I realized, maybe for the first time, that her love and support aren't only not conditional, they're just…easy for her. She isn't trying to be supportive. It isn't work or effort for her to believe in her children and to tell us.

Tonight, she rattled off a stream of compliments, confident in my future in a way that I've never felt, and for once, I wasn't focused on myself, but on her. And rather than apologize to her yet again, or internally punish myself for getting praise that I don't feel like I deserve, I actually absorbed it.

I'm in my mid-thirties now, and I'm still finding all the ways my father wore down my heartstrings and tangled my brainstem. And who knows, maybe some of this insecurity didn't come from him. Life is complicated, and it can be too easy to blame everything on a bad parent.

The epiphany I had is that even when I'm complimenting my mother for not being like my father, I'm still centering him instead of her.

And that's why I want to focus more actively and more often on the good my mother has done for me. Because her words have shaped some of my favorite things about myself.

When I was four, I stood up to some classmates when they made fun of a friend for crying, and when I told my mother about it later, she said offhandedly but proudly, "You have such a strong sense of justice," and so protecting others became one of my core values. Very literally in that moment. I'd never thought of myself as someone who could protect anyone until she said it was so.

She has built the scaffolding of my life in so many ways, and I'm going to appreciate that more.

And tell her that I'm proud of her, too.

#family

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isthedogawolfdog · 1 year

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Are Wolves Dangerous To Humans?

“The risks associated with a wolf attacking a human are ‘above zero, but far too low to calculate,’ a new report says.

Between 2002 and 2020, researchers found 26 fatal attacks throughout the world. Of those, 14 were due to rabies.”

https://wolf.org/wolf-info/factsvsfiction/are-wolves-dangerous-to-humans/

#wolf #wolves #International wolf center #articles #studies

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disruptivevoib · 7 months

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Chonny Jash HMS Labyrinths AU Explanation & Art Dump: The Masterpost

Before we get into the thick of it. Here are the tags and links to all involved:

Purpose 1/2 Soul: @disruptivevoib (Me. Lol.)

Being 1/2 Soul: @calamarispider (Kai)

Pursuit 1/2 Heart: @agent-8449 (Agent)

Texel 1/2 Heart: @rosy-fox-art (Rosy)

Function 1/2 Mind: @jesterberries (Oswin)

Morality 1/2 Mind: @shxwrunner (Andy)

The Ever Impossible Whole: @kelpo-art (Francey)

Here's the premise, just before the cut for all your "I don't want to read this long ass post" needs:

The base concept for Labyrinths is: what if HMS' Psyche and loop was split into three phases? Each being some kind of maze? The first phase would be closest to the original Album loop, however, throughout it Heart, Mind, and Soul would split themselves into halves. Their splits would result from their own dissonance between the internal and external of themselves.

These halves would then move on to the second phase, where they must then attempt to become themselves again before being able to enter the third phase, the one which leads to the center, to the beacon, to Whole.

Elaborate, fary more in-depth explanation below the cut alongside designs and a lot of art:

The Loop, or Phases 1-3 In-depth

Phase 1 begins as the album does. Whole splits down into three, the concepts of his emotion, rationale, and self. When Mind is first shot, he splits between Morality and Function.

Morality is the "Internal Factor" of Mind, he is the conscience, what is deemed wrong and right by the standards of his assumption. He is perfectionism but in a manner which will not hurt someone else. He is where most of Mind's "emotion" goes. Though Function is entirely capable of bias, Morality is VERY prone to bias. He is belief. Function is the "External Factor" of Mind. He the pure, factual logic. The things you cannot refute. What is known, what must happen, how something works. He is immoral, he is uncaring, he is weighing his options in only what is most logical, most beneficial.

Phase 1 continues into the Pit, where Heart becomes Pursuit and Texel.

Texel is the "Prey". In concepting, Rosy named him after a type of sheep. He is the "Internal Factor" of Heart and a manifest of Heart's depression, fears. The flight to Pursuit's fight. He is still very much a wolf in sheep's clothing, being able to grasp onto others and pull them down with him as much as himself. He is the smothering and drowning part of emotion. Pursuit is the "Predator". He is the "External Factor" of Heart. He is the repression, the ignorance, the end of "Good Day". Pursuit also embodies the violence, however. The big energetic emotion opposing Texel's heavier, tired emotion. Pursuit is the Passion, the movement. Texel is stagnation. Both of them are very much capable of Heart's common self-victimization.

Finally, Soul cannot quite take this, and where Soul Eclectic would be, is his split into Being and Purpose.

Being is that personhood within Soul. The vying to be someone without needing to be Whole. He is the depression, the rage, the exhaustion, the human you're being!! There he is.. and he is very tired. Being is kind of just a guy, but he is also.. very much prone to the ideation of death as a source of escapism, especially from everyone else in the Psyche. Purpose is the tool. The need to be Whole, to fit in, to be normal, to be happy, to be safe. He is self-preservation, he is the knowledge that they have to be something more than what they are, they should be human and they cannot be as much like this. He embodies what it means to be the mask. To hide behind being a functional person.. and yet, without Being, is the least human of them all.

Phase 2 begins after this, with the middle most maze, where the six of them now must reconcile with themselves first. Most, however, regard their other half as the weaker one, or the evil one. The one that must be purged in order to continue.

And they can continue by killing them all, however, Whole won't ever be possible. The right way is to accept the truths on both sides. Their flaws and their importance.

Does that ever happen? It's hard to say. But if it does, Phase 3 happens.

The Innermost maze has a tower that is visible even from Phase 2. There, Whole sits and waits. He is a beacon of light, and a shell of someone, a black hole that projects all its light outward but has none for itself.

----

On to Designs.

Initially, as original creator of the AU, I had ideas for everyone except Mind. I knew his half/half face would be swapped, but I wasn't sure how else to differentiate the two.

As for Soul and Heart, I had concepts for both of them.

First, Purpose and Being.

Purpose embodies the mask, and thus became a little "Horror Movie Serial Killer" esque in vibe. After all, everything human within him has been taken and put into Being. He is neatly put together, hair slicked back. It is all curated, and it is all an effort to seem like somebody when he is nearly nobody.

Being has imperfections. His shirt is only half tucked in, his hair is not as slicked back, being able to fall more naturally. He also has the eyeliner I normally put only on Soul's left side. Far more.. guy looking!

Kai and I pretty much stuck to these designs! Following is Purpose's official colored ref, and Kai's art of Being.

The only BIg change was that Being has higher heels and also wears the noose, which is the part of Whole he very much exemplifies, as a belt.

Speaking of, the Trident belongs to Purpose here too! The trident is able to disrupt each halves special ability, as neither Soul is immortal or has high regenerative healing like Mind or Heart. The Souls are squishy. Purpose's trident is very helpful for putting his Ids in line!

Now on to Pursuit and Texel, who were originally just "Predator" and "Prey"

Originally, both Heart's had one half of Whole-Heart's wings and also had a sort of inky/shadowy manifestations of what they embodied. Prey had hands and the shadow of a slinking figure holding onto him, grasping at and pulling him down or grabbing at others. He also had the ball and chain which made him slower, made him trapped. Despite this, his clothing is comfier, wearing sweats, a hoodie and socks. His hair was longer too.

Both had the blindfold, as well.

Predator had the shadowy claws which wrapped around his lower arm like gloves and fizzled off in a billowing cloud-like way. His clothing is still comfortable but much less loose. He wears baggier pants, foot wraps, hand wraps (visible without the shadow) and a loose long-sleeves shirt. His hair is also shorter.

Agent and Rosy took these ideas and expanded upon or changed them up. Both Texel and Pursuit are very different from the original concepts. All art of Pursuit belongs to Agent, all art of Texel belongs to Rosy.

Pursuit retained his comfy but tighter clothing style, but lost the shadow hands, instead gaining an adaptivity ability. He is VERY cat coded, and he is very much the kind of cat that bites you and holds your hand so you do not move and stop giving it attention. He is a menace to society, I would not have him any other way. Lethal weapon motherfucker... scared cat..

Texel retained his shadows! But he gained hooves.. truly becoming the sheep. He also gained the ability to be entirely consumed by the shadows as self defense. Both giving into his fear and self-victimization but also projecting those horrors outward. Denial keeps you safe and hurts everyone else trying to help.

The Minds.. Like I said, I never sketched anything substantial for them, so we will go straight into Oswin and Andy's designs! Oswin drew everything for Function, Andy drew everything for Morality.

Morality is closer to a purple, which is indicative maybe, of how much he feels. As well, he has a white eye and his source is on the non void part of his face! His hair is down and more relaxed. Overall, actually, Morality's design portrays him as more casual. Morality is.. electric. He has a defensive mechanism of being electrical fencing wire and zapping anyone who touches him.

Function is the opposite, with a black eye and glowing teal pupil. His source is on the right. He wears a button up and his hair is higher, more put together and "formal". Function is capable of changing smaller parts of the maze at a time. From the wallpaper and flooring, to shifting walls around in order to escape the others or find them.

Whole had no concept design from me either, esp bc I did not initially include him in the au, however in development, he came to be! and thus... Francey drew the blackhole man himself :)

Other Drawings

Here are some more drawings of everyone! Most from Agent and Kai who went bonkers... I really REALLY love all this art. So much.

Here is Agent's art of everyone. The first one includes some titles for each of them Agent made :]

Here are also some 2/3rd or more like 2/6th Wholes Agent drew. I won't specify who is who. You can guess.

Aaand, Labyrinth Heart too :]c

Here is a drawing I did of 2/6th with Purpose and Function. He didn't get a name, I'm not cool and creative like Agent with that. Also next to it is my art of Labyrinths Soul.

Also my concept for the Six-Pronged trident.

Here is a bunch of art Kai did too. :]c

First up is everyone in Kai's style!

Next is Being in the maze :]

Also... Oswin's meme videos. Which are very important. But I can only upload one.. so have this one.

Volume Warning though!!

AND... And I think thats it! Actually.. There are a LOT more doodles but this post is long and I am terrified it won't save.

So! \o/ I am happy to answer any other questions about Labyrinths as well, I am sure the others would be too. But don't let me speak for them... Though maybe check the replies here for any notes from them. I know I've missed something.

#chonny jash #cj heart #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj mind #cj soul #cj whole #labyrinths au #the masterpost.. the laby masterpost #fanvoids #others art #art that is not mine!!!#cjverse chatroom #cjverse chatroom rp

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childofthewolvess · 3 days

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Becoming open and loud about being a pagan & witch is scary. But what makes that any different than a Christian being open and loud about their faith?

This is for any pagan, witch, or practitioner that may be in a similar situation as me; where it is perfectly safe to be loud and proud about identity and religion, but for some reason, the fear of being judged still lingers.

I am participating in ancient practices that long pre-dated Christianity, my morality and purpose is centered around my religion. It's very important to me. It connects to every part of my being, and I've been dedicating my life to nature itself for years upon years. Though I constantly reassure myself I am definitely not the only pagan in the world, nor my country, and definitely not my state, I sometimes feel as if others view me as "crazy" or "delusional" when they hear about my faith. There is stigma that comes with saying you're a witch; perhaps it is because I grew up in a military culture where I was surrounded by the normalcy of Christianity, or it's internalized fear of judgement since I'm a tour guide and my salary is reliant on how I am perceived by the public eye.

06/02/2024: Gratitude and Faith

Yesterday, on my tour, I listened to the two sweetest ladies talk about how thankful they were for the Christian God & Jesus (capitalized out of respect for their religion). These two women were in tears looking at the beauty of nature and speaking on how grateful they were to experience God's gift. They talked to me about one of their grandsons, who was a priest who dedicated himself to "our lord and savior Jesus Christ." They were so proud of him and his dedication to the Divine. They talked about guardian angels and how they must've been blessed today, with all the amazing wildlife we'd seen on the tour. I smiled. It was wonderful hearing how proud they were of their faith.

I paused underneath a pine overshadowing my van while my tour was exploring by themselves. I thanked my deities, especially Apollo, for healing my sore throat to allow me to storytell on my tour, and Loki, for the beautiful chaos of nature itself. I thanked Ares for his strength to get through the 10 hour day while struggling with my disability, and Aphrodite for her beauty and charm that allows us all to express our love toward the beauty of the mountains. I thanked my familiars for being my guiding light my whole life, for running alongside me and teaching me the way of the wolf, for dancing through my storytelling and protecting me.

In that moment, I realized it: we're not all that different. Those two ladies, thanking their God and angels, are not at all different than me, thanking my gods and guides. In fact, the only difference itself is the system we each believe in, but somehow, across both drastically different religions, we equally found gratitude for the mystical speaking through the natural beauty of the physical world.

It gave me hope.

If these two ladies, living by God and Jesus's word their whole life, didn't receive a blink of an eye at their deep gratitude toward their faith, then neither should I. Why should I worry about being open about my identity as a pagan, when I don't blink an eye myself at another person's dedication and faith? What makes me, as a witch, "crazier" or "delusional"?

And that's just it: nothing does. It's a stigma existing within myself and within society to fear others that are unlike us. An instinct. As humans, the unfamiliar and mysterious frightens us; including the beliefs of our fellow humans, because if we don't believe what they believe, what is to say that our or their belief is wrong? But that's just it: there is, and never has been, a wrong and right in religion.

It all boils down to gratitude and happiness. If you are happy and content with your faith, then why hide? Why hide, when it is safe to express your love for your religion, when it brings joy to your life and possibly others?

That's just it. You don't hide, if you don't need to.

I decided yesterday, I won't hide anymore. There is nothing for me to fear but the judgement of others, and the only judgement that matters in my life is my own. I will be loud, I will be strong, and though I don't feel the need to convert others to my religion, there is something special about explaining how my faith brings joy into my life and shapes my moral trajectory. There is nothing wrong with expressing it. I would never judge another person for finding beauty in their religion and gratitude amongst their faith. So I won't fear myself finding beauty in my religion and gratitude amongst my faith.

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captainmalewriter · 1 year

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The Body Sculptor

Commission Story

"And now, ladies and gentlemen of the crowd...” the MC paused as he spoke over the mic at the International Body Sculptors Competition. The air in the room was electrified from the audience’s anticipation. Then, after teasing them long enough, the MC continued. “Let’s give a warm welcome to our next contestant Kim Jae Eon from Korea!!”

With that, Jae walked out onto the stage and was immediately greeted with loud cheers from the crowd. The young Korean man was dressed in nothing but a white pair of shorts and a generous amount of body oil. Although Jae was just a rookie in the bodybuilding scene, it was clear that he had the makings of a champion with the reception he had received in the minor leagues.

Jae stood at center stage with muscles fully flexed as the audience took in the glorious sight of his glistening body. Countless men and women were shouting their support for the rising Korean bodybuilder. Some even wolf whistled as Jae showed off his physique.

Although Jae was able to keep a straight face as he competed, he couldn't help but smirk on the inside. All his hard work and commitment had paid off. With a jacked body combined with a handsomely cute face like his, Jae had his first bodybuilding competition in the bag. With that thought boosting his ego, Jae struck a pose to show off his melon sized biceps. The audience's cheers only grew louder as the judges gave Jae perfect scores across the board.

While Jae Eon and the rest of the body builders were competing live in London, not everyone interested in spectating had the financial means to be there in-person. There were two people in particular who were very interested in the body sculptors competition.

One of those two people did not exist beyond official government records. No occupation. No known family. No social life of any kind. They preferred to live a life of solitude with minimal interaction with the outside world. Partially because they greatly valued their peace of mind, and partially because living under the radar made their line of work much easier to manage. This person was best known by their online alias The Body Sculptor. The title was self explanatory; they were self employed as a bodysuit maker. The price on their custom made bodysuits usually ran somewhere in the thousands, but the extremely life-like quality of the suits made every penny worth it.

But why would The Body Sculptor be watching the international bodybuilding competition? Simple. The Body Sculptor's latest client Val had requested a custom bodysuit of one Korean model Kim Jae Eon. Val was an ordinary guy with an ordinary life. Although Val had many man crushes, the muscular and cute Jae Eon never failed to catch his attention. After stumbling upon The Body Sculptor's hidden website, Val had been going back and forth on whether or not to get a bodysuit for well over half a year now. He had the financial means to meet the steep price, but he was always unsure and always ended up backing out last minute. In the end, Val made his decision and went all in. Now all he had to do was wait until his custom bodysuit came in the mail. Luckily, he had Jae's competition performance to keep him satisfied until it came. Seeing the buff model flex his muscles reassured Val that he had made the right choice.

The days went by quickly. Then, one day, Val woke up to a package delivered notification. He smiled, and hurried to pick up his mail. While he had a few envelopes waiting for him, he ignored them all once he saw the hefty box with his name on it. Val picked it up and hurried back inside.

Val wasted no time in getting out a sharp knife to open the box. He tore it open like an excited child on Christmas. Inside the package was a postcard that said ‘thank you for ordering’ on it. Val grinned as he picked it up and tossed it to the side. Underneath the postcard was a black pull string bag. Val proceeded to pull it out. The bag was surprisingly heavy, and Val could feel his fingers sink into it as he used his strength to pull it out of the box.

He then opened the strings and pulled out a life size bodysuit of Kim Jae Eon. Val propped up the bodysuit against the wall. Thankfully, the little air the suit had inside helped keep it standing. Val took a step back to admire the craftsmanship. He was impressed (as well as somewhat horrified) at just how realistic the bodysuit looked to the original. All the facial features and bodily details such as the tattoos were exactly as Val remembered them. If it weren’t for the lack of breathing, he would’ve believed it was the real Jae standing right in front of him!

A grin spread across Val’s face as he clapped his hands together and smacked his lips in anticipation. He used his fingers to trace along the sharp jawline of the bodysuit but quickly withdrew his hand when he felt the rubbery material. Val stood back with a look of contempt on his face.

“Man, seriously? $2000 for a rubber suit?”

Val let out a sigh as he stared at the replica of Jae Eon. He knew it’d be a mistake to expect actual synthetic skin on a bodysuit, but he also expected something better than just plain old rubber. He bent down to take a closer look at the bodysuit. No matter how much he scrutinized it, it looked just like Jae Eon no matter how much he stared it. But no attention to detail could change the disappointment Val felt for the building materials. He would have to send it back.

Val grabbed onto the rubber bodysuit, ready to repackage it. But as he held the replica in his hands, an idea had struck him.

“Well...” he thought out loud to himself. “I already bought it, and it’s already here... I might as well try it on at least once.”

After rationalizing his thoughts, Val proceeded to try on the bodysuit. He laid it out on the floor. He squeezed out any air it had inside. Val couldn’t help but feel like he was handling a giant pool ring, but he ignored the feeling and pressed on. Then, using his hands to stretch out the mouth, Val started to stick his feet inside. The rubbery material was cool to the touch, and although the bodysuit was tailored to his exact measurements, it slid on like a glove.

Val continued pushing the rest of his body into the bodysuit. It was a slow but steady process as the bodysuit accepted Val in its embrace. His legs filled in the bodysuit’s legs fully. The bodysuit's dick fit over his like a custom made sleeve. The rest of bodysuit filled in nicely too; torso to torso, arms to arms, and finally, face to face. Val pulled on the bodysuit head like it was a mask, and the entire thing snapped into place with a latex like sound. It was a snug fit, but Val could feel himself moving inside the bodysuit. But as he adjusted to his new body, the bodysuit sprung to life as it started radiating a human’s warmth. Then, Val’s vision shifted from seeing through the eye holes of a mask to literally seeing with Jae’s eyes. He had become one with the bodysuit, taking on Jae’s identity for himself.

“No way... it worked!!” Val shouted out in his new voice. It caught him off guard at first to hear Jae’s accented voice instead of his own, but he quickly accepted it. It was what he wanted after all.

He ran to his bathroom for the mirror. Surely enough, his eyes weren’t playing a cruel trick on him. The mirror showed Jae Eon staring back at him instead of his own complexion. Val smirked with Jae’s face, and it hit him that he was actually living out his body swap fantasy. All that was left was to admire the goods, but this time with a more personal perspective.

“Oh man... Check out these muscles!”

Val flexed his right arm while using his left to feel his new, hard muscles. He was in awe the entire time he fully inspected his body. With him inside, the rubbery feel of the bodysuit had transformed into actual skin. He took a whiff of the new him and was pleasantly surprised to smell the scent of a freshly cleaned man oozing with testosterone.

Val could feel the peach fuzz hair and bulging veins as he ran his fingers up his arms and down his torso. He cupped his new pecs and gave them a good rubbing down. He could the weight of the beefy pectorals on his chest as he bounced them with ease. Every muscle in his new body was well defined and toned to the max. Val already enjoyed the view from the outside, but with the bodysuit on, his pleasure only doubled. That cute face and muscular body were all his.

Val abruptly stopped his self worship session when that last thought crossed his mind. He had no problem keeping up the maintenance his new body would demand of him, but he began to question just how real the bodysuit was. Fortunately, he knew exactly how to test it.

Val went straight to his living room and kneeled in front of a storage chest he kept there. He opened it and pulled out a few dumbbells he kept in there. Val had bought them to do some light at home workouts, but he wanted to test his new body’s strength to see if it was just for show or not. Val noticed the difference right away. With his new muscular body, picking up the weights was as easy as picking up paper! But despite the successful experiment, Val wasn’t satisfied just yet.

With the heaviest weights in hand, Val proceeded to do the hardest work outs he knew how to do. These were the exercises he saved for when he was feeling particularly daring. But what was a challenge for his usual body was nothing but an ordinary workout for his new body. Val worked up a sweat and even built up a pump inside his new body, making the muscles bulge out even more than before. Only after the workout was Val fully content with his latest big purchase.

And so, the days continued to go by. Val continued to live his everyday life while keeping the Jae Eon bodysuit ready to play whenever he was in the mood. At first, Val kept the bodysuit as a special piece only to be used for special occasions. But then Val started using the bodysuit more regularly- to work, to eat, to socialize, to exercise, he even went to sleep with it on! He donned the bodysuit more and more until he spent entire days as his new identity Park Seo Joon.

"우와! 이 허벅지 근육 좀 보세요! 나는 거대하다!!" (Wow! Just look at these thigh muscles! I'm huge!!)

Val showered inside the bodysuit too. The flowing, warm water ran through his hair and onto his broad shoulders. All of his limbs were beefy slabs of muscle, and Val enjoyed slathering himself thoroughly with soap as he washed up.

The light dusting of black pubic hair coupled with a thick, veiny cock with a bright pink dick head was definitely one of his favorite parts of his new body. It would always harden whenever he showered, and occasionally he would indulge it by stroking one out. He could hardly believe just how amazing it felt to jerk off in the bodysuit. At first, jerking off in the bodysuit felt like jerking off but with a tight dick sleeve wrapped around his member. But soon enough, Val couldn’t even tell the difference between his own cock and the bodysuit’s. Jerking off was just like the real thing, if not better!

Once he was done showering, Val continued about his day. But as he sat down to watch his favorite TV show, he quickly became bothered by the fact that it was in English. As the time went by with the bodysuit on, his grasp of the English language faded away until he eventually got fed up and set everything to Korean. It was the language he was most fluent in after all.

Val fixed the language settings on his TV and sat back down on his leather couch. While watching, his phone rang. He hit the pause button and picked it up.

"안녕하세요? 말하는 박서준." (Hello? Park Seo-joon speaking.)

Seo Joon nodded as he listened closely to what the caller had to say. Then his eyes lit up. Apparently, his photos had been trending in South Korea's pop culture scene. Enough so that a social media agent from South Korea had reached out to sign him on as a new social media star!

He looked out the window as he thought about the enticing offer, though quite frankly, he already had his answer. He agreed to the offer and moved to South Korea under his new identity, leaving behind his old one Val. There, Seo Joon lived a comfortable life being adored by people who loved his handsome, muscular, attractive body just as much as he did.

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