#paper is fiber art too

[inthemains]

Five months of work so far on my EPP rainbow star quilt; just finished the top face. Not sure how I’m going to quilt it yet…

Thanks for looking! :)

[quiltingwitch]

Improvised foundation paper pieced mini blocks, for using up small scraps

[th3wizardoz]

!!!Funshine Bear!!!

I made this guy a while ago and never posted him but I am very proud of him so I figured I should. He now lives with my Clown Opossum I posted earlier this year! They are gay and in love 🩷

(Pattern by StringyDingDing for free on their website)

[thresholdbb]

Feeling the pull to make some sort of fan art but no idea what medium to make it in

Help

[cheesycatz]

The Making of: Life-Size Malworm Plush

(Wormton AU)

STATS

16 ft 3 in (495 cm) long

Total time: 150 hours

Material Cost: $124

Theoretical minimum cost (based on seamstress wage): $2,524

(Progress photos and commentary below)

I'll be referring to my life-size wormton plush as "malworm" for convenience sake.

Unlike my Spamton NEO, Caine, and Fake Peppino plushies, I didn't spend a lot of time on concept art. Since I planned to make the malworm plush as close as possible to its 2D design, I didn't have to add much stylization, other than simplifying some details (no way in hell was I going to make 104 separate embroidered stitches for the segments of his toes, sorry). I mainly used the planning stage to calculate how wide the body pieces needed to be, plotting it out in 1/4 in : 3 in scale and using circumference formula to find the values I needed. I planned to make it around 10 feet long, the length of a young adult malworm. A lot of this project was improv, but, I mean, it wasn't my first or second or third time making a spamton centipede.

The head was quite a complicated shape, so I carved a tiny model out of craft foam, covered one half of it in masking tape, then cut the masking tape mask (hah) into flat pieces. I then traced the pieces onto graph paper and manually scaled them up by using the fact that I wanted the nose to be 1 ft long as reference. The rest of the pattern pieces were very simple, as wormton's teeth, body, legs, etc were very easy to translate into 2D shapes. I used old school notes as paper for the body, as I needed a lot of it. It was entertaining cutting exerpts of Moby Dick and English Renaissance biographies into body parts. I ended up making the body significantly longer; I had to spend $100 dollars on fur anyways, so why not make a maximum size one?

Making the pattern pieces took around 8 hours. While waiting for the fur to ship, I started cutting out the teeth, legs, and eyes. By the time the fur arrived, I had already sewn 36 worm teeth. I did an 11hr all-nighter to cut all the fur in one sitting the day it arrived. After a long vacuuming session and an uptake in the amount of polyester fiber in my lungs, I finished cutting the pieces, taking about 18 hours and 40 minutes.

As usual, the head was the first thing I worked on. It was...kind of wonky once I flipped it inside out. I trimmed some of the fur so that I could actually see what was happening. The main issues were the lack of any forehead, the nose being way too wide, and the cheeks being too flat. I did some ladder stitching as well as modifying the thing from the inside, and eventually made the head look much better. The cheeks still don't stick out that much still, but I'm happy with how the head looks now. I think it conquered the sopping wet owl resemblance. I inserted wire into the nose and jaws to help them keep their shape.

When I started this project, I wasn't sure whether to make it based off of Wormton or just a copyright-free malworm; I decided to do both. I went with red for the non-Spamton version, as I think it really fits the cartoony fly/mothman-style cryptid look malworms are supposed to have.

I sewed a square pouch into the throat and put in all those teeth. I used hot glue to wrap blue squares around a wire for the proboscis, because I think I would've gone bonkers cuckoo bananas if I had to hand sew that entire thing. The throat pouch holds the proboscis when it's not extended, as well as anything else I wanted to shove in there. I never measured it, but it's around 4-5 ft long. I finally made the Spamton... eye patches(?) and a pair of eyelids, though I didn't end up using them in the photo shoot. I also made a new pair of nostrils, as the old ones kind of got swallowed up from all the plastic surgery I was giving him

Now that the head was finished, I got to work on the body. I sewed the white belly and segments of the body together. I left most of the tail open, as the fur was too thick for me to flip it out at a certain point. I worked on the legs, next. After living out my cosplay dreams by putting the claws on my fingers like bugles chips, I grouped the claws together and sewed most of each leg and foot together, leaving me with many pairs of charred drumsticks (did not taste good)

I attached an extra long wire structure into each set of claws, then threaded the wire through each respective leg and stuffed them. I ladder stitched the claws to each foot, then stuffed each with some plastic beans in order to give the feet weight. I then finished sewing each foot shut. I now had a pile of disembodied limbs and one very long scarf.

I wound many long pieces of wire together to create an armature for the body. While the plush's body is way too heavy to be properly posable, the wire does still give some structure. I wrapped the extra long ends of the legs' wires to the metal spine, using the body's leg holes for reference. I then pulled the body up the metal armature like a sock.

I pulled the legs through their respective holes and stuffed the body. It was the first time the malworm was huggable! It's sort of like an oversized body pillow, in a way. I had to ladder-stich all the limbs, the head, and the rest of the tail, as it would've been completely impossible to flip inside out. It was quite difficult to do on furry fabric, and my thread frequently broke from the force I had to pull with to keep the stitches tight. Eventually, I got everything attached to some degree.

The last details I worked on were the mane, tail tufts, and scopula pads. The mane and tail tufts were ladder stitched onto the body, but I decided to use glue to attach the pads to the feet. I think the extra blue details make his proboscis fit much better, and who doesn't love spider paw pads? I also glued some velcro to the eye patches so that they stay attached better. They slide under the black eye rings.

My malworm was finally finished! I tried to put a lot of effort into the photo shoot so that people who don't know about the AU can enjoy it. I wanted to make it seem like some weird entity whose only goal is obtaining more Spamton brainrot. Hence it making Spamton on Mario Kart DS under the bed, obsessing over the Spamton Plush, inspecting the Spamton Shrine, and just generally harassing the photographer (me, I guess?). I wanted to capture the silliness, creepiness, and lack of respect for personal space that Spamton is known for. I thought about giving him a bag of doritos under the bed like that one image of the isopods eating them, but went with the DS instead. I thought it would be funny to see this thing playing Super Mario 64 DS (or Super Spamton 64) and here the "buh bye!" sound effect when it closes the DSi XL.

That's all from me, for now. I have other Wormton related matter to attend to.

Don't let the parasitic Spamton larvae bite

[ganemouchie]

I don't see a lot of visual art for while Jon was reading the "Statement of Jonah Magnus, regarding The Archivist."

His voice sounds strained at first, do you think they were holding their throat? Trying to suffocate themselves before it was too late?

Do you guys think by the end of it the paper was wet with tears?

You could discuss that he was more and more gone as the statement progressed, but I like to think that some fiber inside him refused to give up. I think they cried until the very end.

[kairiscorner]

Helloo, can I request Miguel with an artist reader who draws him a lot? 👉👈 Like the reader has a secret crush on Miguel and he inspires them a lot, without even knowing it. And maybe there's a Gwen-and-Miles-like-situation where Miguel by accident discovers the drawings of him in their sketchbook?

AAAAAAAA ANON THIS IS SO CUTE !! tbh i wanted to finish the miggy fic i had for ate @binibinileonara bc i wanted to connect these two together, BUT I COULDN'T RESIST, I'LL MAKE IT SEPARATE BC WHY NOT !! thank you for the lovely idea btw (i also had an idea like this actually in my notes) THANKS FOR GIVING ME THE OOMPH TO DO IT !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you always had this desire to capture all that interested you in its full beauty, in its unbridled greatness. that was, to you, the essence of all your art pieces; they always reflected how you saw the world, how you saw nature, how you saw people.

you never believed people had one or two faces to them, you believed people were multi-faceted, that every person was a kaleidoscope of beauty, skills, quirks, flaws, fears, hopes, and dreams. you loved capturing every bit of people who intrigued you the best you could, and you hoped that if you stood back and admired the big picture that was them, going over the details and fibers that made each person their own–from the good, bad, pretty and ugly details–you would finally see the whole, uncut image of the person you were illustrating; who you were painting in the colors you saw them in, the colors that stuck with you and filled the empty canvas of your mind with all sorts of shapes and splotches of hues and shades that formed the image of them when their name would come to mind.

and for some reason... that person to you right now was miguel o'hara. you had a lot of things to say about him, even words that many would argue don't exist. you felt a myriad of feelings when you were around miguel, and you knew there was more than just the dictating leader miguel that everyone was familiar with. like all people, miguel, too, was an explosion of different kinds of colors to you–colors that only you could see, because when he was around you... he was more than just the cool, calm, and collected boss everyone saw him as.

he was much more caring, much more funny around you. his smile when you told him a funny story illuminated a bright yellow and a warm orange to you–his eyes would twinkle and you'd see the hazelnut brown in his eyes, and a shade of what appeared to be coffee brown at the bottom of his irises. he exuded a commanding aura, a dark, cool blue–but when paired with you, and only you, he exuded a bright red; a color of fiery passion, intimacy, and most of all... attraction.

he was the subject of your affections, you, the soulful and emotional artist that admired him and all that he was from afar and up close. you admired the way he held your hand when you were scared on a few missions, you admired how gently he held you when you two were caught between a rock and a hard place; and how soft and loving his eyes were when they gazed at you. you knew he might have felt a platonic kind of love for you, what with being so comfortable around you and all, but you felt a different kind of love for him–and you hated denying your creative side the indulgence of capturing him in all his beauty.

hence, you began slowly filling the empty spaces of your sketchbooks and notebooks, or whatever other papers lay around when inspiration struck you, with images of him and only him. you caught his face in moments where he was nonchalant, disappointed, angry, grumpy, and... smiling.

when you witnessed his smile for the first time when you met him, that image was burned into your retinas, into your mind, into your heart. you saw that smile from the minute you went to bed to the minute you woke up, the only thing that saddened you was that you could never hold that man who smiled at you and made your heart beat a little faster–you could only watch him and be with him at a distance. but art was the bridge between you two that'd close that distance you wanted to cover so, so badly.

you did, at times, believe what you were doing was... a little creepy. you refused to let anyone see your sketchbooks even before you drew him, and that was out of embarrassment at your drawings. but now, it was a new kind of embarrassment, a feeling adjacent to guilt and disgust at how nobody but he could fill your mind and have you wanting to keep him in your mind by feeding yourself, indulging yourself in putting him on paper and coloring him in; to be with him at a closer perspective than how you two were in the real world.

you had to admit it–seeing him constantly in your mind, wanting to let thoughts of him out on paper as you wanted to be through with imagining him, but knew you couldn't the more and more you portrayed him–it meant you... wanted him. you really, really loved him.

you knew nobody should know, nobody had to know about this little crush you had on miguel. you'd rather die than have someone peek at your sketchbook that was filled with all kinds of drawings of him. but unfortunately, the man himself bore witness to your caricatures and illustrations of him when you left your sketchbook at his office.

you ran as quickly as you could, praying he hadn't opened it out of curiosity. he was always asking you what you were up to, and you'd immediately shut your sketchbook and laugh awkwardly, claim you were merely doodling. you always left out the part that you were constantly drawing him, and only ever him; and now, he'd find out.

as you entered his office, scouring with your eyes for your sketchbook, a figure emerged from the darkness behind you and gave a slight cough. "this is yours, isn't it?" that low, fluid voice was none other than miguel's. you turned around in fear of what he was going to look like–would any of the faces you drew seeing him as be one of the faces you'd see?

to your surprise... no. he had a different, completely new face that you had never drawn him in; a flustered state. he was blushing, his angled cheeks and high nose bridge were covered in a pink-red hue–and he was grinning. he handed you the sketchbook with a now sheepish smile. "i'm sorry, i wasn't sure if it was yours. i had to... look through for a name. and, um... it was very–" he wanted to continue, but then, he saw you were on the verge of tears.

"i'm... sorry..." you muttered, feeling incredibly ashamed of yours and busted for having indulged in drawing him without him knowing. guilt stirred in your stomach and elicited tears to well up in your eyes. miguel smiled, and as his eyebrows curved upwards together to form a look of reassurance, he placed both hands on your shoulders.

"listen, you have a wonderful talent. i'm sorry if you don't hear that enough, but that changes today. i'm so... wow, i'm so flattered you thought i was good enough to be drawn that way. it feels... amazing, to know an artist sees me fit to be their, what would you call it?" he asked as he wiped a tear rolling down your cheek away from you.

"a... muse." you whispered, wiping the rest of your tears away. miguel chuckled. "right, a muse." he said as he inched closer to you, with the sweetest smile on his face. "i might sound really crazy right now, but... i want to be your muse. i really, really want to be your muse." he said, with emphasis on 'your'.

your face lightened up as the tears that welled up gave your eyes a glassy look, and you saw the blush on his deepen as you became more and more flustered. you smiled and wrapped your arms around his chest, pulling him in for an embrace you needed to release. "and i want to be your artist. only yours." you whispered, to which miguel reciprocated your hug. and it was here that you witnessed him in a new color, a pinkish, reddish hue that made you feel all kinds of happiness and excitement.

a love meant to be captured and painted in with bursts of emotion and care for one another.

a/n: I'M SO SORRY IF IT DIDN'T COME OUT THAT WELL NGL I MADE THIS A LITTLE RUSHED 😭😭😭 BUT I LOVE MIGGY HERE PLSSS AND I HOPE Y'ALL LOVE HIM HERE, TOO <333

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck

[willtheweaver]

A writer’s guide to forests: woodlands made by man

Forests are for the most part, the realm of nature. But what about those with a less than natural origin? Here are some woodlands that are shaped artificially.

Parks and gardens- Trees look nice, there’s no denying it. As long as there have been people who admire trees, there have been gardens and parks. Grassy meadows, neatly trimmed hedges and flower beds may get all the attention, but an accenting grove, or a rambling woodland always adds to the aesthetic. Wealthy aristocrats would import trees from far away places, while more modest landowners and public spaces grow native species. Though the results do look quite natural, they are nonetheless human creations.

Orchard- Fruit and nut bearing trees have always been favored as a reliable source of food. And so people since nearly the beginning of agriculture have been planting orchards to provide for them. Trees are planted in rows, evenly spaced apart for the ease of harvesting. Smaller orchards, those catering to families who pick their own fruit, and those that grow fairly delicate fruits still do the harvesting by hand, while many more rely on machines to do the heavy lifting.

Tree farm/ plantation- Many trees types cultivated are deciduous species, but there are some instances when conifers are preferred. Being relatively fast growing, and usually possessing a single, straight trunk, they are the ideal tree type for use as lumber and paper products. Of course, one cannot forget the need every November and December for Christmas trees.

Palm plantation- The tropics are ideal for growing oil palms. Thousands of acres are devoted to the tree, as so much of our food and other products these days relies on palm oil. This is not a good thing as the demand means that vast areas of rainforest have had to be cleared. In Indonesia, the problem is particularly evident, as the growth of palm plantations is one of the main factors behind the decline of orangutan numbers.

Coconut grove- Almost anywhere you go in the tropics will have coconut palms. Buoyant, the nut floats easily on the currents, and where it is too isolated for a coconut to reach naturally (such as Hawaii), people have brought it with them. As well as the coconuts, the palms themsevles are also used; palm fronds can be used for roofing, and the fibers are used in weaving.

Bonsai forest- The art of growing miniature trees has been practiced for centuries. Some trees are collected in the wild, harsh natural conditions causing the trees to grow slowly and stay small, but many more are shaped over many years. While many bonsai are grown singularly, groves and forests are also popular choices. These can be either monospecific, or mixed, and can be part of a larger landscape creation that includes rocks, water, and figures.

There are plenty of examples of forest areas that are man-made. Don’t feel like you have to confine your story to a natural woodland. Use what you find around you to inspire the setting and drive your characters and the plot. What happens on the earth can easily be applied to science fiction or fantasy. Put your own spin on it (maybe your characters are small and live in a bonsai forest…of course they could also be normal sized people who happen to be in a giant sized bonsai planting).

Edit: As pointed out in the comments/reblogs, I seemed to have forgotten woodlots, so I am going to include those.

Woodlot- Common areas open to members of the community include a mixture of open pastureland and forested areas. People would have their flocks and herds forage here in spring and summer, whilst they managed and harvested the trees. Trees in woodlots would not be felled, instead the branches would be cut back and allowed to regrow. The resulting growth produces straight branches that are used in constructing walls, fences, as well as firewood and charcoal. (Communal pastures and woodlots are not really thought of these days, as many areas were lost over the years due to industrialization, urbanization, and the enclosure of land by the aristocracy)

[briarberrythornedhart]

Prompted by: “sitting in his lap would probably fix me”

“Hey!” Eddie snapped his fingers in your direction. “You’ve got initiative, what’s your move?”

It works, his long, strong, fingers are able to snap you out of the near fugue state you’d been in, just staring at the dungeon master and lusting after him with every fiber of your being, pining because he is so close and so far away and sooo unattainable. You clear your throat.

“I try to reason with…”

All the groans from the other players and the slap of Gareth’s hand to his face suddenly overwhelm you with noise and you feel ever so slightly unwelcome again.

They weren’t gatekeeper-misogynists at all and had welcomed you without prejudice - they’d had girl members before so you were nothing new… but your wanting to solve everything through non-violence was getting on even sweet Grant’s last nerve. He’s biting his nails, which you know means he’s losing his cool too.

“Silence!” Eddie commands the other players. He leans your way from his perch in his throne. “They are goblins. You don’t speak goblin, they are going to attack you…” It’s a teeny bit patronizing. He is equal parts threatening and pleading with you. Warning you he can’t save you from yourself. He isn’t going to go easy on you. He isn’t the type and that has only intensified your crush on him.

“You have the perfect spell…” Lucas points to the relevant spell on your character sheet. Max’s boyfriend is hoping to smooth things over, help you make a good decision, for the good of the party.

But you are relentless. “They are not mindless zombies, they have language and art. They live in villages and raise their children. You can’t tell me they are evil because of their... genetics. It’s the god Maglubiyet who is the real villian.”

Eddie smiles but it is 40% grimace. “I agree with you.... and Whilst I respect your commitment to your alignment and your character, you know you can’t personally resolve milennia-old war between the Goblins and....everyone. And you are running out of time, one is raising a horn to his mouth....”

“I bend down and draw in the dirt road - I draw a box...” You sketch your idea on some loose notebook paper from your journal. “With three stick figures in it, and then draw jail bars over the stick figures.”

Eddie watches you - bemused - as you attempt to negotiate a hostage exchange via cartoons drawn in dirt.

He nods, lips set in the smirk that usually means he’s contemplating a rug pull. “The Goblins look at your drawings. Their mouths hang open. One scratches his protruding belly. One nudges the other with his elbow. Dustin, you rolled next highest Initiative. What do you do?”

You know Dustin has your back. And Lucas will probably want to see how your gambit plays out. But Gareth sneaks up behind the goblins and captures them and everything devolves into violence from there.

Jeff ends up with a Goblin speared on his sword, Grant gets an injury you’ll have to heal next game. No one seems pleased. You feel like you’ve been through the Kobayashi Maru test.

Eddie calls a break for pizza and asks you to hang back for a second.

This is when I get kicked out for ruining the game for everyone, You think.

“You are working through something, aren’t you?” Eddie is hugging his knees in his throne. He is threading his pointer finger through the worn holes in his jeans and popping the threads.

“What?”

“Well, you have been staring... like eyes unfocused and hands clenched and - like - it’s totally okay you don’t want to fight. It’s not all about dungeon crawls and fighting baddies... but if you need to talk about... it. Whatever it is - I’m here. You know.... I c-care. Okay? We’re friends - I want you to know I’ll support you.”

“That’s sweet.” It is - it stings like a slap that you are only ever going to be friends, but it’s sweet too. Sweet-Bitter.

Eddie sighs, looks down and then back up at you through his messy curls, “You know, sometimes I think you’d be happier as dungeon master. You wanna try running a one-shot sometime? See if you’d like it?”

You laugh, “As if you’d share your throne.” You tease. He’s got you all wrong. You don’t want to be in control. You just want him to tell you to do different things. Put you in different situations. Hellfire Club has gotten so much more difficult lately because you can’t stop thinking about Eddie and wanting him in every way.

“I totally would.” Eddie looks faux hurt. He scoots himself to the side in the throne, closes his legs together like he NEVER does and brings his hands in to shove between his knees, leaving you maybe 6-8 inches of space. “Look, I can make room.”

“That’s not enough room for my ass.” You shake your head, smiling. Probably blushing, you feel the heat on your cheeks.

You measure your hips and hold up your hands to show him.

You think he probably doesn’t notice that you bite your lip whenever he is this close. You can just catch the scent of his leather jacket and his aftershave or deodorant whatever it is that makes you want to tear his Hellfire club shirt off with your teeth?? Whatever it is, It’s delicious.

“I see your point. You’re just gonna have to sit in my lap.” He shrugs. Smirks. Pats his thigh.

[atinycafe]

LIME SORBET — ch 03 [studio.log]*

PROMPT; reader finally comes back to s. korea as she finished her training in los angeles, ready to debut as a solo artist under kq ent! exciting right? well her sunbaes seem to like that idea too.

FEAT; alpha!ateez x omega!idol!reader

IN THIS CHAPTER; reader spends her night in the studio, only to wake up 2 a room filled w alphas who r intrigued by her.

WARNINGS; suggestive!! the gang is horny, visualization of what they want to do to reader, but it's not really explicit

WRD COUNT; 8.4k

NOTES; reader is so cute when she's sleepi + mingi princess fans arise + we see her in a bra like okay girl.. + san is so delulu he got me cryin + woo is an ass man in case u don't get it; the boys get HORNY, like embarrassingly so + absolutely no second proofreading cuz im lazy

TAGLIST; @marievllr-abg @cookiechristie @sugarrush-blush; lmk if you want 2 b added 2!

In the depths of Maddox's abode, nestled within his personal studio, the girl found herself immersed in the world of musical creation. The clock struck 3am, yet time seemed to lose its grasp as she surrendered to her insatiable passion. Six hours had effortlessly slipped by, as if fueled by an unstoppable force of excitement that refused to be tamed.

Within the dimly lit space, her senses were heightened, every fiber of her being attuned to the melody that flowed from her lips and echoed through the soundproof walls. The room hummed with energy, a symphony of musical notes and the intoxicating aroma of freshly brewed coffee and vibrant cans of Red Bull. The fusion of caffeine and adrenaline created a swirling concoction, at times threatening to overwhelm her, yet she reveled in the exhilarating rush it provided. It was as if the very essence of her anticipation had taken flight, dancing on the precipice of euphoria.

With each take, her voice soared, effortlessly embracing the emotions etched within the lyrics. Fatigue attempted to wrap its heavy arms around her, but she stubbornly resisted, fueled by an unwavering determination and an unwavering belief in the music she was creating. Sleep became an inconsequential concept, a distant memory overshadowed by the sheer thrill of her craft.

The studio walls bore witness to her transformation, adorned with discarded drafts and crumpled sheets of paper, testaments to the countless iterations and refining of her art. She was a vessel of creativity, pouring her heart and soul into every syllable, weaving a tapestry of sound and emotion that would soon captivate the world.

As the hours slipped away, her mind swirled with a variety of emotions. Excitement coursed through her veins like a surging electric current, occasionally flirting with the edges of nausea. The very thought of her forthcoming album ascending to new heights sent a rush of adrenaline to her head, causing her heart to beat in perfect harmony with the rhythm of the music. It was a heady mixture, a blend of exhaustion and exhilaration that mingled in the depths of her being.

In the stillness of the night, surrounded by the symphony of her own creation, she became a conduit of artistic expression. The merging of sleep-deprived delirium and boundless passion resulted in a raw, untamed energy that propelled her forward. With each passing moment, she grew more resolute, refusing to surrender to fatigue or doubt. This was her moment, her chance to etch her mark upon the annals of music history.

As the night wore on, and the world outside slumbered, the intimacy of Maddox's modest abode revealed itself. The walls, though not grandiose, seemed to hold secrets within their confines. The space was small, cozy even, and the proximity to Maddox's sleeping quarters made every sound he produced perceptible. Amidst the melodies she crafted, she found solace in the faint symphony of his snores. His rhythmic breaths became a comforting backdrop, grounding her in the reality of their shared creative sanctuary.

'Cause if the water dries up and the moon stops shining

As she poured her heart into the lyrics, a cascade of thoughts and emotions tumbled through her mind. The words she penned held a deep longing, an unspoken desire for a connection that had eluded her. In the depths of her creative sanctuary, she allowed her imagination to roam freely, conjuring up visions of what it might feel like to be truly loved.

Stars fall, and the world goes blind

Memories of past relationships flickered briefly in her mind, wisps of summer love that had faded like distant echoes. They were fleeting encounters, mere glimpses of what could have been. But now, with the pen in her hand and the music in her soul, she yearned for something more profound, something that would transcend the boundaries of time.

Boy, you know I'll be savin' my love for you, for you

Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the ethereal realm of her imagination, letting her thoughts drift towards the three alphas she had met just a week ago. Her mind painted vivid portraits of their potential, each one possessing unique qualities that stirred her curiosity. In this realm of boundless possibilities, she allowed herself to explore the untrodden paths of affection and romance.

'Cause you're the best mistake I've ever made

But as the melodies swirled around her, her shyness began to creep in, shattering the enchantment she had conjured. Her mind swiftly delving into vivid and provocative imagery. In a sudden rush of self-awareness, she tossed her pen aside and removed her headphones, as if needing a physical break from the whirlwind of emotions. Her face, now cupped in her hands, she rubbed away the traces of her daydreams, attempting to chase away the lingering images that had captivated her.

But we hold on, mm, hold on

She knew that these reveries were a temporary escape, a fleeting moment of vulnerability and exploration. Yet, they fueled her artistic expression, infusing her lyrics with a yearning that seemed almost tangible. The lyrics became a mirror of her deepest desires, a plea for honesty and authenticity in love. With each word she crafted, she hoped to find someone who could treat her with tenderness, touch her with intention, and unlock the door to her heart.

There's no pot of gold in the rainbows we chase

In that very moment, as she sat there, her mind whirled with a blend of anticipation, hesitation, and a hint of excitement. She couldn't help but wonder if her words held the power to beckon the love she craved. Her song became an invitation, an open door to a future that existed solely in her dreams.

But we hold on, mm, hold on

With a sigh, she took a deep breath and let the thoughts dissipate, like morning mist evaporating beneath the sun's warm rays. She knew that her journey toward love was just beginning, and these words were her declaration, her manifesto of hope and vulnerability. The pen may have been discarded for now, but the fire within her burned brighter than ever, ready to ignite the flame of love when the time was right.

In the hushed confines of their dorm, bathed in the soft glow of dawn's gentle light, the boys stirred, their sleep interrupted at an unusually early hour. It was all thanks to San, the charismatic force among them, who had roused them from their slumber with unwavering determination.

The previous day, as they lounged together in the comforts of their shared abode, their big-eyed alpha, adorned with a magnetic charm, had caught sight of a story posted by his cherished omega (he claimed her as his omega, unyielding in his conviction, regardless of their limited interaction. Though their connection remained one-sided, he refused to falter in acknowledging her as his own!!). In her endearing shyness, she had requested their social media accounts, an invitation for simple communication that sent a wave of adoration rippling through the alphas. Overwhelmed by her captivating allure, they had almost instinctively wished to whisk her away, to shield her from prying eyes within the sanctuary of their dorm, for fear that others might glimpse the untamed beauty that resided within her.

With their own private accounts, meticulously curated to shield their true identities from all but their trusted inner circle, the three boys ventured into her digital realm. Concealing his true identity, Wooyoung ingeniously employed one of his selcas as his profile picture. Under the pretense of running a Wooyoung fan account, he skillfully masked his own involvement, ensuring that only a select few would recognize his true affiliation. San, donning the visage of Kai from EXO, his own idol, and Hongjoong, his profile pic a simple yet enigmatic all-black image. Each detail meticulously planned to ensure that their presence remained concealed from the wider world.

As San chanced upon her story—a selfie snapped within the familiar confines of Maddox's studio, she accompanied it with a concise caption: "pullin' an all nighter, fighting, 1st album coming soon bb!!!", a cluster of petite emoticons adorned her visage, adding a touch of whimsy to the frame— he sprang to his feet in a whirlwind of excitement, his head narrowly missing a collision with Mingi's chin as he propelled himself forward. The image of her pretty face filled the screen, delicate locks cascading around her visage, while her glasses, whether a fashion statement or an aid to her vision, delicately perched upon her nose, lending her an air of innocence that stirred something profound within San. Unable to resist, he discreetly captured a screenshot, already having crafted a dedicated folder solely for her in his photo app.

Summoning Wooyoung from his place in the living room, San began to passionately recount their newfound opportunity to meet her in person. The trio of alphas, who had previously crossed paths with this captivating omega, yearned for the chance to be in her presence once more. The distance separating them felt like an unbearable chasm, their hearts aching with longing, yet they understood the necessity of patience. Having learned of her recent settlement in South Korea and her contract with KQent, they recognized that she needed time to unwind and find solace after a demanding week.

The remaining members found themselves irresistibly drawn to their uncharacteristically high-pitched squeals, converging in the living room. Some opted to nestle on the floor, forsaking the available seating options. In the midst of the excited pair's animated discussion, Yeosang's dulcet voice, with its unmistakable baritone undertones, gently broke the fervor.

"What's all the excitement about?" he interjected, his words carrying a blend of curiosity and soothing melody.

"Our omega," San exclaimed, unable to contain his glee. His smile widened to such an extent that his eyes involuntarily closed, plunging him momentarily into darkness. Within the fleeting blackout, a vivid image materialized—a radiant smile from her—only to dissipate as he opened his eyes, leaving San flushed with a warm blush. He was obsessed. He blinked, he saw her.

Jongho, ever the skeptic, rolled his eyes at San's exuberance. "Oh my God, not again. Spare me for just a minute, my head is already throbbing," he lamented. The youngest alpha had already glimpsed at her pictures from San's instagram account, having surreptitiously explored the depths of his brother's phone. He sought to put a face to the enigmatic individual captivating San's attention. Even though the pictures were candid, their unpolished charm revealed glimpses of her unadorned life. Jongho couldn't deny her beauty, but his weariness was palpable. San's infatuation was understandable, and Wooyoung's as well, but Hongjoong? It felt like an overwhelming influx of emotions for him. It was just too much. And they never shut up about her!

"Guys, I truly couldn't care less right now. We're waking up at 5am, and we must be at Maddox's place in less than ten minutes. It's an urgency, I feel like I'm gonna die," Wooyoung declared, his arms crossing defiantly over his well-defined chest. The gravity of his words was evident, as he foresaw the reaction of the other alphas who hadn't yet encountered his beloved.

"NAHHHHHH, YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR MIND IF YOU THIN—" Yunho's outburst was abruptly quelled by the eldest alpha's measured intervention.

"Okay."

"Yeah, exactly. Seonghwa, tell him—" Yunho turned to him, an air of bewilderment etched across his face, "What?"

Seonghwa, the composed and sage-like oldest of their pack, emitted a weary sigh as his fingers delicately threaded through his tousled locks. "Okay first, let's all acknowledge that a mate bond is quite intricate when it happens to an already formed pact," he began, his words carrying a profound weight that resonated within each individual present. Hongjoong's all sat them down, as soon as they got home that day, talking about how she could be their destined mate, having spurred the need for this crucial conversation, a topic that demanded their collective attention. San and Wooyoung, their faces alight with uncontainable joy, illuminated the room as they reveled in the tantalizing prospect of the ethereal girl potentially becoming their soulmate.

"Are you not even slightly curious about what she's like? After all, she could be our soulmate—that's a connection far from trivial," Seonghwa concluded, his voice carrying the wisdom of countless ages.

A deep and contemplative silence blanketed the room, as each alpha weighed the implications of his words, even those who had already crossed paths with her. It was clear that surface-level attraction alone would not suffice; a deeper understanding was essential. And so, with resolute determination, they reached a unanimous decision—on the morrow, they would convene to embark on an unforgettable rendezvous with this captivating omega, unmasking the layers that shrouded her essence.

"Hurry up, bro! If you don't open that door, I swear I'll kick it down myself," Woo exclaimed, frustrated by the tremor in his leader's hands preventing the key from entering Kyungmoon's door. Joong was stressed okay?? It had been a week since he met his lovely girl, he needed to take some time to breathe and Wooyoung's high pitched voice wasn't making it easier for him.

Jongho swiftly delivered a sharp slap to the back of Woo's head, reprimanding him for his lack of proper and polite language.

At last, the door swung open. Surprisingly, Yeosang was the first to step inside, forcefully making his way through. He paused in the hallway, taking a deep inhale.

"H-holy shit," he whispered, his voice barely audible. The alluring scent of the omega permeated the apartment. His eyes rolled back momentarily as he dropped to one knee. Being exceptionally sensitive to smell, the euphoric sensation coursing through him was beyond imagination.

"It seems she's asleep," Hongjoong murmured, savoring the tranquil but sharp pheromones that floated gracefully above him. It was a scent he could easily grow accustomed to.

Omega scents differed from those of other biological "genera" such as alphas and betas. Their fragrances were more potent, designed to attract as many potential partners as possible. In the past, it had been one alpha per omega, a long-established tradition. However, the mistreatment and endangerment of the omega species had altered the dynamics. Now, it was an omega for an entire pack, comprising alphas and betas. As time passed, scientists discovered that omega scents grew more concentrated, and their pheromones had a stronger effect on individuals than their predecessors.

Upon presenting, omegas began wearing specialized collars to mitigate the strength of their scent. However, the collars merely served as a display, indicating whether an omega was unmated or not. Mated omegas proudly discarded their collars, showcasing the mark left by their partners.

To address the issue of scent control, omegas learned to subdue and manipulate their pheromones as if it were second nature. Alphas possessed a similar ability, using their own pheromones to demonstrate dominance or provide comfort to a distressed omega. This control was entirely conscious and deliberate, except in moments of extreme emotions or, as one might guess, during sleep.

Yeosang's delicate nose began to bleed, a trickle of crimson staining his upper lip. His eyes dilated to such an extent that the coffee brown hues vanished, replaced by a captivating abyss. Sensing his distress, Seonghwa swiftly positioned himself in front of Yeosang, retrieving a tissue from his pocket. Placing it firmly into Yeosang's trembling hand, he offered a comforting pat on the back before moving past him.

Leaving Yeosang to catch his breath at the entrance, the others knew he would eventually regain composure. They recalled moments when he would become overwhelmed at fan meetings and concerts, the amalgamation of scents triggering debilitating headaches that rendered him unable to function once the events concluded. However, with time, he had grown in both self-control and the utilization of a specialized gel that he carried with him—a tube always at the ready.

After carefully wiping his nose with the tissue provided by his hyung, Yeosang uncapped the tube. Squeezing a generous amount onto his index finger, he proceeded to apply the gel beneath his nose. Settling amidst the abundance of sneakers, he closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, allowing the lingering essence of her scent to envelop his senses. Though not as potent as before, it still lingered, a tantalizing presence that left a trace on his tongue, reminiscent of a refreshing concoction of freshly squeezed lime and sweet condensed milk on a scorching summer day. And he hadn't even laid eyes on her yet, but the yearning to feel her beneath his fingertips, to taste her lips, was already fervently alive within him.

Leaning his head against the adjacent wall, Yeosang attempted to suppress the torrent of thoughts cascading through his mind. How was this even possible? Was this the sensation of having a mate? His cheeks flushed a rosy hue, a thin layer of perspiration forming upon his brow as he fought the overpowering urge to rise, rush to her side, and whisk her away to a world of eternal seclusion.

The vulnerable alpha dreaded the impending moment when his eyes would finally gaze upon her, aware that his self-control would crumble in an instant. He needed to regain his composure swiftly. Clasping his head in his hands, he tightened his grip on his hair, silently growling at himself for the inevitable embarrassment he believed awaited him in her presence. Awkwardness plagued him when meeting new people, an innate characteristic he couldn't help but succumb to. Now, envisioning the sweet, enchanting omega who had captivated his senses with her unbeknownst allure, he found himself on his knees for her even before her awakening.

Unable to bear the weight of her presence, he rose to his feet and deliberately veered left, contrary to the path his pack brothers took. He made his way towards Kyungmoon's location, deciding that focusing on the task of rousing his slumbering friend was a far more productive pursuit than wallowing in overthinking within the confines of the bathroom. The mere thought of clawing at the door for even a second of her attention seemed inconsequential in comparison.

"Wait Joong-ah don't wake her up yet, I wanna take a pic," Wooyoung whispered sharply, his words resonating within the intimate connection of their pack's shared mind.

"What the fuck Woo that's so weird," San grumbled, feeling an undeniable urge to retrieve his phone and do the exact same thing as his brother. Sure, he had taken a screenshot of her story, but she had posted it willingly, and she even requested his Instagram account! It was as if she knew he would come across her story and find her utterly adorable. Perhaps she had intended to send him the picture privately but hesitated out of shyness. In the grand scheme of things, taking a screenshot of her story didn't seem like such a significant transgression.

"San in his delulu era," Yunho chuckled, his laughter reverberating through the backchannels of their shared connection. San blushed, realizing that he hadn't closed the pack link before indulging in his overthinking. He whined and pouted at his older brother, grumbling about how he knew nothing and that he shared a profound connection with the slumbering omega in the room that none of them could possibly comprehend.

Approaching her with utmost gentleness, San took in the sight of her petite figure draped in an oversized black ESSENTIALS hoodie. The soft fabric of the hood cradled her bangs delicately, accentuating her endearing presence.

San's eyes lingered on the ethereal beauty that graced his sight. Her delicate features, bathed in the soft glow of morning light, seemed to possess an otherworldly radiance. Her flawless complexion was akin to the finest piece of glass, adorned with a natural flush of warmth that accentuated her captivating charm.

A cascade of silken tresses framed her face, tumbling in gentle waves that danced with each breath she took. The strands, so dark, like a moonless night, glimmered softly. They caressed her cheeks in a tender embrace, further enhancing the angelic grace that she embodied.

But it was her smile, that tender curve of her lips, that bewitched San the most. It was a smile that spoke of innocence, of genuine happiness found in the simplest of moments, such as the dream she must have been in at the moment. A smile so small yet so impactful.

As San's gaze intensified, he became acutely aware of her scent, a delicate and intoxicating fragrance that filled the air around her. It was a scent that captivated the senses, a symphony of citrus notes intertwined with a hint of warmth and sweetness. The gentle waft of her pheromones mingled with the morning breeze, leaving a trail of enchantment that lingered in the room.

The other alphas present in the room found themselves in a state of awe and disbelief. They were stunned by the sheer beauty before them, unable to comprehend how someone could possess such breathtaking allure. The collective breaths in the room seemed to catch, as if the air itself was held captive by her presence.

They couldn't help but feel a pang of discomfort as they observed her slumbering form, tightly wedged in front of the studio equipment. A wave of concern washed over their hearts, causing a sense of unease to settle within them. How had she ended up sleeping in such an uncomfortable position? It was evident that she had been working tirelessly, pushing herself beyond her limits. Their poor little omega, not even a day in, and she was already overworking herself.

The sight of her cramped posture tugged at their heartstrings, fueling a deep sense of protectiveness within the alphas. They exchanged worried glances, their brows furrowed with genuine care. This was not how they had envisioned her first day, and they couldn't bear the thought of her sacrificing her well-being for the sake of her goals.

Gently, they tiptoed closer, careful not to disturb her peaceful slumber. Soft whispers filled the air as they debated on the best course of action. Should they wake her and offer her a more comfortable place to rest? Or should they let her sleep, knowing that she needed the rest?

San gently shook her shoulder, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through his body. The sensation coursed from the point where their skin made contact, making his knees weaken momentarily. "Bunny, wake up," he whispered, his voice filled with affection and longing. Crouching down before her, he softly nudged her crossed arms on her chest with his nose, yearning to rouse her from her slumber but careful not to be rough with her delicate form.

As his nose brushed against the black fabric of her hoodie, a low growl rumbled deep within San's chest. The others turned to him, their confusion evident in their faces, their bodies poised to react if they sensed any danger or harm befalling their omega. The only fear that gripped their hearts was the possibility of her being injured.

"What is it?" the leader asked impatiently, his gaze fixed on San, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in the usually gentle alpha's demeanor.

"Her scent is so overwhelming, I didn't notice the other man's scent on her," San snarled, his voice laced with possessiveness and anger. The room grew heavy with tension, and a nauseating feeling settled upon the others. Their little omega, in the embrace of another? It was unfathomable, a concept they refused to entertain, for it threatened to shatter the fragile equilibrium within their pack. The surge of jealousy and anger fueled their pheromones, causing the air to be saturated with an intense energy, growls echoing throughout the room.

"Oh calm down, I gave her my hoodie, after all those years, I'd think you'd recognize my scent," a familiar voice chimed in lazily. Maddox entered the studio, his presence diffusing the mounting tension. He yawned and stretched, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

The room breathed a collective sigh of relief as the tension dissipated, making way for a blush to color the alphas' cheeks. Their omega remained blissfully unaware, still peacefully asleep. "You guys imprint on her already or what" Maddox yawned again, this time covering his mouth with his hand, his gaze drifting to the MacBook resting next to San on the table.

San, feeling thoroughly embarrassed by his earlier outburst, turned his attention back to his omega, determined to wake her gently without further disturbing the delicate balance within the pack. However, Maddox interjected, his focus still fixed on the files the omega had been working on the night before. "That won't work," he muttered, his eyes scanning the digital pages. "She sleeps like she's in a damn coma. You need to use that big alpha voice to wake her up. I remember only her father's voice could actually rouse her for school." A nostalgic smile played upon Maddox's lips as he recalled the image of the formidable alpha attempting to wake his soft daughter with the utmost care, eventually resigning himself to growls and stern commands.

The rest of the pack chose to overlook Maddox's uncanny knowledge about her, realizing they had already embarrassed themselves enough. Yunho spoke up, his voice gentle yet firm. "We can't do that. It's disrespectful to her if we use that voice without her consent." He understood the power alphas possessed, the ability to command any omega with a certain tone of their voice. Some alphas saw it as natural and didn't hesitate to employ it for various purposes, but the younger generation recognized the discomfort it could cause an omega and refrained from using it without their agreement.

Maddox grumbled in frustration, closing the multitude of pages she had opened. "Cute, but I really need her to wake the fuck up. I have so many questions about what she did," he grumbled, a tinge of exasperation in his voice. "How many songs did she record yesterday? What the fuck..."

Realizing that none of the alphas had budged from their positions, Maddox turned to them, his expression deadpan. "It's either that, or I throw her off the damn chair," he stated flatly. A low snarl inadvertently escaped the youngest alphas' mouth, resulting in a swift slap from the elder pack members. Kyungmoon, being older than them all, demanded their respect, and they were quick to comply.

Rolling his eyes, Kyungmoon approached her chair. As soon as San caught sight of his movement, he instinctively tightened his embrace around his beloved omega, enveloping her baggy jeans-clad thighs with his massive arms, as if shielding her from any harm. With a frustrated huff, Mingi stepped forward, gently nudging Maddox aside.

Bending down to be at eye level with her, Mingi hesitated for a moment before parting his lips, a firm yet tender command slipping from his mouth. "'Mega, wake up."

At the sound of his voice, tinged with a hint of authority, the adorable omega finally blinked her eyes open, still groggy from her meager three hours of sleep. Mingi's face was so close to hers that she could feel his minty breath against her skin. She locked eyes with him, her own still halfway closed, and with a radiant smile, she murmured, "Princess," before drifting back into slumber, soft snores escaping her lips.

Mingi found himself overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions, his heart pounding so fiercely that it felt as if it might burst from his chest. Every fiber of his being trembled, and his cheeks burned with an intense blush that seemed to consume him entirely. He stumbled out of the room, his mind in a haze, unable to form coherent words. In the pack link, his thoughts raced, replaying the precious moment when she had gazed at him with such tenderness, her doe-like eyes filled with affection, as she whispered his nickname. The intensity of his feelings was so potent that it felt as if he could spontaneously combust from the sheer weight of his emotions. Mingi now understood the profound infatuation his pack brothers harbored for her. She had an undeniable power over them, and he realized with both joy and trepidation that she would undoubtedly be the cause of his eventual downfall.

As Mingi stumbled out of the room, his face flushed with embarrassment and his heart in disarray, Maddox turned to the other alphas, only to notice that they were all equally affected by the endearing moment they had just witnessed. Yunho and Seonghwa had their hands pressed against their faces, their fingers trembling with the sheer adorableness that had unfolded before them. San buried his face in the omega's thighs, his ears and the back of his neck turning a vibrant shade of pink, betraying his own overwhelmed emotions. Wooyoung and Jongho averted their gazes to the ceiling, trying to distract themselves from replaying the scene repeatedly in their minds, though a small, subtle smile played on the youngest alphas' lips. Hongjoong sat on the couch, seemingly unfazed as he lazily scratched the nail polish on his pinky, but Kyungmoon, ever perceptive, couldn't help but notice the growing bulge in the leader's pants. Maddox, taken aback by the sight, accidentally spit out the water he had been drinking, managing to turn away just in time to avoid drenching the electronic devices, but unfortunately showering the poor omega in the process.

The room erupted with the omega's whines, her voice piercing through the previously silent atmosphere as the cold water splashed against her skin, instantly capturing the attention of every alpha present. Their hearts ached at the sound of her distress, their protective instincts urging them to offer comfort and reassurance. Their alpha instincts compelling them to provide solace and make things right.

"What the fuck, Maddox?" she wailed, her frustration evident. "Can't even sleep properly in this damn house."

Standing up and shaking off San, she didn't his lingering grip on her sleeping form, her focus solely fixed on Kyungmoon, her expression a mix of annoyance and desperation. She swiftly removed her hoodie, leaving her clad only in her bra and jeans, oblivious to the way every pair of eyes followed her every move, their gazes locked on her with a mix of surprise and raw need.

The emotional rollercoaster they just went through had been like no other. First the jealousy, then how she was adorable, and lastly pure horniness.

The curve of her stomach, gliding effortlessly from under the confines of her bra, ensnared the attention of Hongjoong, the esteemed leading alpha of the room. His experienced eyes, like a connoisseur of beauty, were drawn to the elegant contour that beckoned his gaze. The delicate lace of her undergarment, while intended to provide a sense of allure and sophistication, unintentionally exacerbated his already heightened state of arousal.

A twinge of discomfort gnawed at Hongjoong as he struggled to find a more suitable position, seeking respite from the undeniable physical reaction that her captivating form had stirred within him. With meticulous care, he shifted his weight, his eyes never straying from her mesmerizing figure. Yet, try as he might, the discreet adjustments failed to provide the relief he so desperately sought.

In a valiant effort to compose himself, Hongjoong focused on the intricate details of the room, mentally recounting the soothing hues of the decor and the subtle patterns etched into the furniture. However, the tantalizing presence of the omega before him proved too formidable a distraction, commanding his attention with an unwavering grip. He found himself caught in a precarious balancing act, yearning to sate his desires while mindful of the propriety demanded by the situation.

The enchanting sight of small moles adorning her soft skin captivated Seonghwa's discerning gaze, weaving a spell that rendered him momentarily breathless. Each tiny mark seemed to possess its own unique story, an intimate secret shared only by her and the heavens above. His yearning to explore those delicate spots with tender kisses overwhelmed him, imagining the intoxicating sensation of his lips brushing against the canvas of her skin.

In his mind's eye, Seonghwa envisioned a gentle dance of affection, as he traced the path of those enticing moles, leaving a trail of feather-light pecks in their wake. He could almost taste the sweetness that lingered on her flesh, relishing the imagined flavor that would be unveiled with each loving touch. Imagining the soft strokes of his omega's fingers gently caressing his hair, he reveled in the anticipation of the tingling sensations that would ripple through his scalp, a testament to the depth of their connection.

Yunho's attention was drawn to the striking contrast between his own veiny and robust hands and the delicate frame of the omega standing before him. In that moment, he couldn't help but imagine the possibilities of their union, envisioning the way his substantial hands would envelope her waist with a possessive grip, his fingers seamlessly finding their place in the contours of her perfect love handles.

His mind became a canvas of fantasies as he pictured himself leaving trails of electrifying sensations in his wake, exploring the territory of her body with a blend of strength and tenderness. Yunho recognized the power he held, knowing that his size and stature were capable of delivering overwhelming pleasure, yet he remained acutely aware of the need for care and respect in his actions.

In his musings, Yunho marveled at the way her petite form seemed to fit flawlessly against his own, as if their bodies were destined to intertwine in a passionate embrace. The thought of their connection, of his hands guiding her and igniting a symphony of pleasure, stirred a fire within him that burned with both intensity and reverence.

In a moment that transcended the boundaries of mere perception, San was struck by an electrifying realization that sent shivers cascading right through his very dick. The delicate tapestry of her soft and innocent aura, an ethereal essence that had captivated him since their first encounter, now bore a captivating mark of temptation—a seductive black lace bra that adorned her form with a beguiling allure. It was a revelation that set his heart ablaze, igniting a torrent of desire that coursed through his veins with an irresistible intensity.

As his gaze lingered upon the intricate details of her lingerie, a mix of sensations and emotions unraveled within San's psyche. The contrast between her angelic visage and the provocative undergarment created a mesmerizing dichotomy, a collision of purity and seduction that stirred a primal yearning within him. The soft caress of lace against her supple skin seemed to beckon him closer, inviting him to uncover the secrets concealed beneath those delicate layers.

With each passing second, San's fascination deepened, propelling him into a realm of uncharted desires. He yearned not only to explore the physical contours of her body, but to embark upon an intimate odyssey, delving into the recesses of her mind to unearth the forbidden thoughts that lay dormant. Like a moth drawn inexorably to the flame, he longed to unravel the enigma she embodied, to partake in a journey of discovery that would leave no hidden desire unexplored.

Wooyoung was spellbound, unable to tear his eyes away as the oversized hoodie slipped off her slender frame, unveiling a breathtaking sight. The subtle arch of her back, accentuated by the fabric that clung to her every curve, left him in a state of awe. It was as though her very presence commanded attention, demanding admiration for the sheer elegance she exuded.

The allure of her figure, embraced by the snug embrace of her jeans, stirred a deep desire within Wooyoung. The contours of her backside, a tantalizing glimpse of sensuality, held an irresistible appeal that he couldn't resist. With each movement, she seemed to glide effortlessly, casting a hypnotic spell on anyone who had the privilege of witnessing her graceful presence. Wooyoung found himself rendered speechless, his eyes fixated on her, as he yearned to explore the depths of her enigmatic allure.

In that suspended moment, the world faded into insignificance for Wooyoung. He was completely consumed by her magnetic charm, unable to resist the pull she exerted over him. The urge to reach out, to trace his fingers along the contours that beckoned him, surged through him with an undeniable intensity. It was a silent plea, a longing to unravel the mysteries hidden within her captivating form.

Jongho stood in the corner, his eyes transfixed on her collarbones, captivated by their delicate prominence. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as he imagined marking her skin with tender love bites, leaving an indelible imprint of their passionate connection. Her collarbones, a testament to vulnerability and strength, held an irresistible allure for Jongho, who yearned to leave his mark on her like an artist etching his masterpiece.

As he observed her, his mind painted vivid images of their intertwined bodies, fueled by a primal desire to possess and protect. Jongho's fingers twitched with an unconscious longing to explore every inch of her, to trace the contours of her skin and map the pathways that would lead them both to untold heights of ecstasy. He imagined the intoxicating scent of their mingled sweat, the rhythm of their breaths syncing in a symphony of desire.

Jongho's gaze, intense and unwavering, revealed his unspoken intentions. The fire within him burned bright, threatening to consume everything in its path. He yearned to be her sanctuary, the one who could unlock the depths of her desires, and together they would traverse a journey of untamed passion. In his mind, he had already claimed her, and with each beat of his heart, the intensity of his longing grew stronger, leaving him unable to resist the primal call that reverberated through his veins.

Their momentary thoughts were abruptly interrupted as she turned towards Maddox, her expression filled with annoyance, and flung his damp hoodie at him. "You're such a cunt!" she pouted, her dissatisfaction with her own attire apparent. "Give me one of your t-shirts. I don't want to wear my corset. It's uncomfortable, and I still want to sleep," she declared, her eyes fluttering open and closed, evidence that she hadn't completely shaken off her sleepiness. The boys, momentarily distracted from their wandering thoughts, found themselves savoring the sweetness of the moment, allowing themselves to imagine a scenario where she would come to them, begging for a shirt.

Just as Maddox was about to suggest that she take one of his own, his gaze met Hongjoong's, positioned just behind her. Maddox, being older than Hongjoong, knew it and held him in high regard, respecting him as a perfect colleague. Yet, he couldn't deny the effect of the rapper's lingering stare, which left him feeling somewhat uneasy. Recognizing the biological underpinnings of such a reaction, given his alpha nature, Maddox tried to brush it off with a sigh. "Stop taking my clothes, they reek of your scent. Go ask someone else," he lied, offering an exaggerated eye-roll, assuring the omega standing before him that he wasn't entirely serious but allowing her to believe there was a kernel of truth to his words.

She tilted her head and stared at him, her confusion evident. "Who else?" she inquired. Just as she finished her question, Yunho gently touched her shoulder, stepping forward to retrieve his hoodie from the lower front of his chest, revealing a black t-shirt that made his milky collarbones shimmer against the silver chain adorning them. If the omega had been well-rested, she would have blushed uncontrollably, her heart racing within her chest. However, exhaustion had claimed her, and she simply accepted the hoodie from his outstretched hands, her fingertips grazing his longer ones, causing a faint shiver to run through him. She offered a soft bow before turning towards the door. Just as she was about to depart, she glanced back at the room and inquired about the time. "It's 7:36 am," San cheerfully chimed in. She nodded and directed her gaze to Maddox. "Wake me up in 30 minutes. I'll be in your bed."

With the tall alpha's hoodie in her grasp, she made her way down the hallway, heading towards his room. Along the way, a thought crossed her mind to stop by the kitchen, which was conveniently adjacent to the room. As she ventured forward, the soft glow of daylight streamed in through the windows, casting a warm radiance throughout the space. Eager to don the borrowed garment, she began pulling it over her head, only to find it stubbornly clinging to her neck, momentarily obscuring her vision. Undeterred, she continued to tug at the fabric, inadvertently veering off course.

In her haste to envelop herself in the hoodie's comforting embrace, she struggled momentarily, the fabric refusing to yield, momentarily obscuring her vision. Undeterred by this minor setback, she persisted, unaware of the subtle shift in her surroundings. Lost in a drowsy haze, she collided unexpectedly with an unfamiliar obstacle—a solid wall that seemed out of place in her mental map of the house. Confusion clouded her fatigued mind as she fumbled for an exit, desperate to find her bearings.

But before she could make further progress, her hands were gently seized by another, guiding her with practiced ease. Startled, she raised her gaze and found herself locked in the enigmatic eyes of Mingi, his expression unreadable. Intimidated by his presence, she hurriedly offered her apologies, expressing gratitude with a respectful bow, and swiftly made her way to Maddox's inviting bed. As she glanced down at her petite frame swallowed by the oversized hoodie, she realized it cascaded down to her knees, enveloping her like a protective cocoon. Anticipating the comforting solace that awaited her beneath the covers, she resolved to shed her confining jeans, unaware of the two sharp intakes of breath behind her. With a haphazard pull of the zipper and a deft maneuver of her legs, she discarded the denim, allowing it to fall away as she gracefully slipped into the plush sanctuary of the bed. And there, in the soft embrace of warmth and dreams, she succumbed to the sweet embrace of slumber.

She stirred from her peaceful slumber, roused by the melodious strains of music that filled the air. Blinking her eyes open, she found herself in a state of half-consciousness, still tethered to the realm of dreams. The melodic notes wafted through the room, their gentle vibrations resonating within her soul, beckoning her to awaken fully.

As she gradually shook off the remnants of sleep, her senses heightened, and she recognized the familiar tunes that now danced around her. It was the unmistakable sound of the last song she recorded the day before. Each note and lyric seemed to caress her being, whispering promises of inspiration.

Eager to immerse herself in the enchantment of the music, she cast off the drowsiness that clung to her like a fleeting memory. With a sense of renewed vitality coursing through her veins, she reached for her phone, hoping to catch a glimpse of the time that had conspired against her precious sleep. The digits illuminated the screen with a damning truth—9:04 am—an unwelcome reminder of the hour she had been robbed of.

Oh this fucker.

Indignant at the intrusion of her slumber, she snatched the pillow she had rested upon and sat up, her gaze scanning the room for her unwitting accomplice in this temporal crime. To her right, amidst the symphony of sizzling pans and culinary artistry, she spied Wooyoung and Seonghwa, their culinary passions interwoven with a graceful dance. Further down, Jongho and Yeosang engaged in a hushed exchange, their words cloaked in mystery. Oblivious to her presence, they sat at a regal marble table, absorbed in their discourse. San and Yunho, on the other hand, found solace in the digital realm, their camaraderie evident as they maneuvered through virtual landscapes, softly nudging each other, wishing the other to lose. Meanwhile, Hongjoong and Mingi, tethered by the ethereal notes streaming through their AirPods, bobbed their heads in perfect synchrony, their attention fixated on the music that enveloped their senses, coming out of the familiar MacBook Pro.

Behind the rappers, Maddox remained captivated by the luminous glow emanating from the computer screen. With both hands planted firmly on the armrests of the couch, his gaze traced an enigmatic pattern, his thoughts ensnared by the digital world unfolding before him. The flickering images danced across his vision, weaving a tapestry of intrigue and inspiration.

A feral growl rumbled deep within her chest, a primal instinct urging her to unleash her frustration. Gripping the pillow tightly in her hand, she channeled her pent-up energy into a swift and powerful motion, hurling it with all her might toward Kyungmoon. The cushioned projectile soared through the air, guided by a vengeful determination, until it found its mark with unerring precision.

The impact was swift and resounding—a perfect headshot. Kyungmoon's eyes widened in surprise as the pillow collided with his unsuspecting form. Feathered wisps danced in the air, suspended for a brief moment, before gracefully floating downward like ethereal confetti. The room fell into a hushed silence, the weight of the strike reverberating in the space.

A chorus of laughter erupted, a melodic symphony of amusement and camaraderie. The men turned their attention to the impulsive assailant, their eyes gleaming with mischief and mirth. The omega, a glint in her eyes, relished in the spontaneous act of rebellion, savoring the taste of victory. Her lips curled into a playful smile, her spirit emboldened by the cathartic release.

A melodious chirp of delight escaped the young singer's lips, an innocent and joyous sound that pierced through the air, captivating the attention of all the men in the room. Their eyes turned towards her, their senses heightened, as if drawn to the magnetic pull of her presence. Unbeknownst to her, a heady cocktail of pheromones began to waft from her, subtly stirring the primal instincts of the alphas in the room.

In response to her joyful exclamation, a deep rumble resonated in the space, a contented sound that slipped from the alpha's throats. It went unnoticed by the omega, its significance lost in the flurry of activity. Yet, it held a primal meaning, an unspoken declaration of satisfaction and possessiveness.

Within that moment, a delicate dance of instinct and desire unfolded, unseen and unspoken. The room became an arena of subtle exchanges, a microcosm where primal connections and magnetic forces intertwined. Their gazes lingered a moment longer, their hearts quickening ever so slightly, attuned to the unspoken language that pulsed beneath the surface.

Maddox rose from the floor, his hand gingerly massaging the spot on his head where the pillow had made contact. His disheveled hair stood as a testament to the force of the blow, yet a mischievous glimmer danced in his eyes, undeterred by the playful aggression. "What the fuck was that for, you bitch?" he exclaimed, his tone laced with mock indignation.

Unfazed by his theatrical response, she met his challenge head-on, a defiant smirk playing on her lips. "That's for not waking me up, you dick," she retorted, her voice laced with a playful edge. Her tongue darted out in a teasing gesture, a playful taunt that showcased her feisty spirit. "I need to finish what I was working on," she added, her determination shining through her words.

Maddox, still rubbing the sore spot on his head, protested in defense of his failed wake-up attempt. "I tried waking you up, he—" he pointed accusingly at the leader with a mix of exasperation and amusement. Hongjoong, his smile soft and eyes brimming with adoration, watched the playful exchange unfold. His intervention had allowed her precious sleep to continue undisturbed, a decision that Maddox now found himself at odds with. "He forced me to let you sleep more," Maddox explained, his voice tinged with alarm.

The omega's gaze shifted toward Hongjoong, her eyes narrowing playfully at the leader who had orchestrated her extended slumber. His expression betrayed the depth of his affection, the love that radiated from his being. The mischievous spark in her eyes intensified, and she playfully tilted her head. "If you need to throw a fucking pillow, don't hit me," Maddox urged, his voice filled with a mix of jest and mock seriousness. "Aim the weapon at him!" he added, gesturing towards Hongjoong.

As the playful banter continued to unfold, Hongjoong found himself captivated by the sight before him. His gaze lingered on his beloved omega, devoid of makeup, with faint traces of fatigue evident in her puffy eyes and disheveled lips. Strands of hair cascaded around her, reaching toward the ceiling as if attempting to touch the heavens themselves. In that moment, the world around him faded into a blur, and he became lost in the depths of her soulful gaze.

His heart quickened its pace, the rhythm echoing in his ears as if keeping time with his racing thoughts. The intensity of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Her radiant smile, a beacon of warmth and affection, sent a jolt through his being. It was a single moment, a fleeting exchange of unspoken devotion, yet it held the power to still his very breath.

The words of the moody beta went unheard, his attention solely fixated on the enchanting presence of his precious girl.

Her laughter filled the room, a melodic symphony that danced through the air. "Well, if it's the leader, I can't complain, can I?" she playfully remarked, her voice laced with affection and mirth. With a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, she let herself fall back onto the soft bed, the impact causing a satisfying thud.

Hongjoong, caught in the rapture of her infectious laughter, felt his heart swell with adoration. The intensity of his emotions threatened to consume him, and he needed an outlet to release the overwhelming surge of feelings that coursed through his veins. Excusing himself with a faint smile, he retreated to the sanctuary of the soundproof studio.

Inside the secluded confines of the studio, Hongjoong closed the door behind him and took a deep breath.

[notsodailykurudoro]

Day 23

(day 19 continuation)

“Not a problem!” Dororo gleamed, giving the smaller man his space as he stared around the place. 

It was… something. 

“I could help you tidy up this place if you so let me.” He offered.

Kururu already had started eating and boy was he going at it, he took a brief break of trying to feed his starving self to muster a “Suit yourself” between bites.

And I shall, thought the taller man, tying together his long hair to work better on the stinking mess that was now Kururu's room. He swore he'd seen burrows ten times neater than whatever the everloving heck was going on here. 

Luckily, he came prepared. A soft smile drew onto hidden lips as he began tossing visible junk on a big plastic bag. The room was dark, barely lit by three monitors from the ostentatious mumbo-jumbo that shaped together Kururu's rather expensive setup. Sometimes he wonders where he gets the stuff, sometimes he is brave enough to inquire about such, and sometimes he gets a halfhearted answer. Sometimes, he worries.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't actually worried all the time. For him, for them, for everyone. 

Had anyone ever paid him back?

That was also a sometimes. 

He kept working on the task at hand, he had a long way ahead but he’ll manage, he was more than satisfied with just having managed to get the hermit to eat something that wasn't artificially made or not even proper food at all. 

He could tell by all the wrappers and boxes discarded on the sticky floor that he'd spent at least weeks eating garbage, if not more. A pit sank in his stomach, well known worry setting in his limbs, sensitive enough to feel his vacant eyes stinging. He tried not to think too hard about it in order to stop himself from shaking, but he knew Kururu's health was worsening by the second and he couldn't help but feel unfathomably sad about it. 

He steadied his breathing, squatting down to toss what seemed like a bunch of crumpled papers next to the ginger's bed. 

Dororo squinted, stopping in his tracks as he tried to fix his gaze on a single not ruined sheet lying on the floor beneath the disgusting mass of quilts, gadgets, clothes and pillows that was the litter. 

He held it gently between long fingers, glancing quickly at the smaller nerd that was too distracted eating while he pondered at something on whatever in the world those screens were showing him, before returning to try and take a read at the messy handwriting. 

It was, again, very dark, however he was well accustomed to see among shadows.

So he read. 

…

…?

And he read again.

…

…

… It was a suicide note. 

He felt his heart stop for a whole second, eyes wide as could be while trying with every fiber of his being to not freak out audibly at the fatal discovery. He swallowed, dry, debating whether or not it was a good idea to bring it up to his companion. 

This was awful! Why would he think about such atrocity? Had he arrived too late, or just in time? He looked… rather bad, but honestly he could never tell the difference and that made him feel even worse. 

He had to think, read the room, think about his feelings, plan out how he was gonna say it so Kururu didn't felt awkward and decided he didn't want Dororo in his life anymore, think about his tone and words and when and how and

“WERE YOU ACTUALLY GONNA DO IT?” A heavy teary eyed Dororo exclaimed as he held onto the hikikomori with one hand and held the note with the other.

Startled outta his mind, Kururu tried to narrow his own fucked up gaze towards what he was trying to show him, the contact making him uneasy as well as the crying. 

“I- uh- wuh-” He stammered, finally focusing on what he had in his hands and feeling his heart stop for a solid split of a second. 

Unbothered, a strained almost permanent smile kept the snarky bite on his words as he reached for the note. 

“Now where didja find that…?” 

“WERE YOU? KURURU-DONO, PLEASE! YOU HAVE TO TELL ME-”

“Where?"

“Th-T-The bedframe, beneath it…” The martial arts enthusiast sniffed, easing his grasp on the technician as to not keep bothering further. He was honestly kinda surprised he didn't instantly shoved him away. 

The yellow devil remained silent for a few beats, rereading the thing as if having forgotten that he, at some point in his recent life, stood so ridiculously low to write such a pathetic excuse of a letter. 

The flash of a thought came to him, who was ever gonna read it anyway? but after glancing out of the corner of his vision and seen the barely illuminated ninja shed abnormally large tears, he reconsidered. 

He crumpled the note and tossed it away. 

“Don't worry about it.” He lazily elaborated, slumping forward once again to keep scrolling on what seemed to be a shady forum long forgotten by even god himself, stuff that Dororo could not get even if he tried or cared enough. 

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT!?” The taller man quickly retorted. “Y-Y-H-HOw am I sure you’re not gonna shorten further y-y-your lifespan!?”

Kururu cringed ever so slightly. 

“And I-I apologize deeply if this is still a sour subject to you, but sir, I hold deep worry towards your well being!”

“I know.”

“I'm serious!”

“... I know.”

“So, please do I beg you… Would you tell me if something greatly bothers you? If there's something straining your chest with anguish?”

Kururu seemed so distant from his spot, even if merely inches away, he always seemed to hide just enough to be unreadable yet clear enough to tell he was going through it™. It didn't helped to ease Dororo's nerves. 

“Please? At least would you try?”

“... ‘k” 

“Thank goodness…” He sighed with relief, wiping away some of his tears with the back of his bandaged hand. “I won't ask about the letter, you’ll know when to reach and I'll assist.”

“Will do my best I s’pose.” Kururu muttered, barely audible. Dororo catched it either way, and felt happy about it. “Y’can go back to whatever you were doin’, ain't going anywhere.” 

Ain't dying soon he would had said instead, but he didn't felt like tormenting the man further. Not today. 

“I shall.” 

The ninja bowed lightly, and that's the last he heard of him as he fixed again on the screens, tired eyes fully hidden under glasses that were hit directly by the blue light. 

He felt arms wrap around his frame and he almost jumped at the sudden touch, the scent of incense and pinetrees giving away the perpetrator if not already painfully obvious. 

“Wh… Why…” Words couldn't leave his mouth properly as he fought with his own weird stoicness and months of being a touchstarved sociopathic freak. 

“I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, I hope this isn't uncomfortable to you-”

Kururu considered. His smell was awful if not just rotten, had the temperature of an oven on Christmas and not for the reasons anyone thought, and the feeling of someone else touching him was just indescribable pain. 

And yet…

“... I don't mind.”

Maybe that's what the mask was for. 

They remained like that for a short while before the long haired shinobi retreated and kept trying to tidy up the room, and he went back to mess on his computer, none of them said a word afterwards. 

It was nice. 

[alas9]

✨ 📖 ✏️ studyblr masterpost jam ✏️ 📖 ✨ Day #6 as an independent game designer maybe?

I used to be quite extra in my 20s. I was very immersed in the world of gamer gear and stationery products, I bought too many pink peripherals for the computer and I had several pencil cases full of colored fibers. I feel that getting into the world of development has helped me refine the consumer in me a little, and taught me to be more organized and practical. Since development involves many hours of purely mental work, I make sure I have sheets and pens close to me to capture anything that comes to mind, and I try not to have my desk too full of things to avoid distractions. These are my main items that I always have in my desk and backpack.

Keyboard 60%

Mine is relatively old, it is an Anne Pro 2. As it is quite common in the world of custom keyboards, it is easy to get keycaps for it. For example, I bought it to put Keycaps in Cyrillic when I was actively studying Russian. I bought this one on amazon.

Plastic Paper Containers

I am very fond of writing by hand to develop and organize ideas, so I fill myself with papers. I'm addicted to organizers, cleaning my study and work space is something that overwhelms me a lot, and paper collects a lot of dust, so these containers save you space and hours of cleaning. It also helps to separate papers by subject, in the image I have the folders that I use for development and on the other side for Japanese.

Basic Planner

When I was a fine arts student I was very into journaling. Something that became extremely impractical for me as time went by. Today I have a planner with all the same sheets with space for the date and tasks only. It is necessarily flexible and necessarily pre-fabricated to fulfill its function.

Smart notebook with squared sheets

I always try to have squared sheets to study languages, because I feel that they help a lot to improve writing when you use more complex systems such as hiragana, katakana and kanji. They are also more useful for writing programming languages ​​if you want to do written exercises. They are very versatile and it is not paper that goes unused, ever.

Campus University Extra Fine Notebook

This is my war notebook, the one I carry in my backpack because it is light and I use it as a random note pad, whether for studying programming, Japanese, or for ideas for my game. Then when I get home, I organize the information in specific notebooks or the folders that I showed above.

Black Chinese Ink Pens

I narrowed down collections of different markers and pens to just using these. I don't have any other variety. They are the only ones I use for everything.

About programs I use to organize myself and study

Notion (and trello implementation)

Mine is pretty simple and minimalistic. I use it to set my year long tasks, such as x amount of courses I want to do, books I want to read, games I want to play, notes about aeronautics I use on my game, other documentation about other topics I care etc etc. It's nothing I use day by day. I just get there once in a while to check on things I wanted to do in the past weeks everytime I have time to work on something new. I don't use anything digital to organize day by day tasks.

ChatGPT

ChatGPT is always open in my browser. It's a fixed tab actually. I use it for everything, mainly coding.

Midjourney and Gencraft to create assets and sprites

I use them to create temporary assets for my game, since I'm focused on the code only, and to see how things work I put some AI generated visuals in every non profitable project.

Neocities

It's not actually a tool, but I use it mainly to host my web design projects and to share them with other colleagues. I also dive alot in the community websites there to check for ideas and inspiration.

Github as a portfolio

I used to be quite secretive with my projects, because almost all of them, if not all, were directly linked to my work, and by clause I cannot link my personal image to the company, therefore I never shared anything I did. But I recently started using github as a platform to showcase my work and freelance projects, and I've loved it so far. I know that the tool's strength is teamwork through it, but that has not been the case for me so far.

And that's basically all I use and most people also do I guess 🦦

[noordzee]

I was assigned frames 142 and 274 of the Our Frames Mean Love collab! I could not stop myself from papercrafting one of them, this project was such a fun excuse for everyone to show off their different fanart mediums! The second is a vector illustration done in Illustrator, because the papercrafting demon couldn't win me over twice and I also had a time crunch, I was away the whole week right before the deadline. And well also because I like doing vector art too!

I've included a couple photos I took during the cutting process. Please note the wood stain samples I used for parts of Stede's hair and the sparkly marbled paper I used in Ed's, they're my favorite details! I also managed to find a mulberry paper in just the right reddish-brown for Ed's lip that I fussycut along a lighter seam of pink fiber, giving him a bit of a lip line. I was so pleased with myself for figuring that out, haha. The papercraft piece is 12x6cm in real life!

The full animation featuring these and hundreds of other beautiful artworks can be found here on twitter: https://twitter.com/emcolbs/status/1662126565071749127 Thank you again for starting this, @emcolbs!

[sunsetsands]

Concept art for a new species within the Sunset Sands Sinematic Suniverse: Mechins (pronounced meh-kin). More worldbuilding details below images.

I’ve had this idea for a while, but this is my first time trying to put it to paper. The basic concept is that they are mobile structures made of a wood pulp/paper mache-like material, analogous to termite mounds or wasp nests. The eusocial bug-like creatures that built and lives inside the structure have highly specialized castes for each of its necessary bodily functions, filling the roles of muscles, nerves, and connective fiber. Though none of these creatures are sapient on their own, they come together to form an intelligent collective conscience, that being the mind of the mechin itself.

Because the shape and structure of the hard outer parts is not determined by the resident creatures’ DNA, mechins can take on a near infinite variety of sizes and body plans. They may also incorporate materials besides just the aforementioned wood pulp, such as glass or metal, if they come across it.

The outer shell may take a more sleek, robotic form or a bumpier, organic form. This is more a matter of personal preference than anything, with tendencies from one to another varying greatly depending on region and cultural background.

The social structure of mechins is a bit more solitary than humans, with some individuals, especially larger ones. behaving and being viewed as more as nations than people. They are highly protective of the land they claim and the resources held within, and will fight off any unwanted invaders that may enter, often with weapons built into their bodies. If another mechin is found to be trustworthy, they may form an alliance, with larger alliances comprising possibly thousands of individual colonies. Alliances between mechins are technically a form of polyamorous romantic relationship, and behavior between allied mechins is usually more flirtatious than diplomatic.

The mechin reproductive process involves two or more individuals within an alliance first gathering the materials required to build the outer shell, mostly just plant matter and small bits of metal. After that, one adds a queen to the materials while the others each add a few drones. These initial organisms will give way to a generation of nerve, connective, and muscle organisms which will work together to construct a starting body for the colony-to-be. The structure of the newborn mechin is not set for life, and may be expanded and renovated in accordance with current tactical needs or fashion trends.

Mechin gender is determined by their preferred way of interacting with other mechins, and may change many times over the course of their lives. The long list of meche genders includes but is not limited to “warlord,” “diplomat,” “pacifist,” “isolationist,” and “economist.” It is generally expected that alliances will occur between mechins of the same gender, but straight relationships are not too uncommon.

The mechin homeworld, Borgam, is hotter than, drier than, and about 1.25x the size of Earth. It has five moons of varying sizes and orbits a pair of red stars. I have not yet put much thought into the resident flora and fauna of this planet, but I do know at the very least that there are a few species of eusocial centipede, which are relatives of the species that gave rise to the mechins.

That is all I can currently think to say about these things. Like all of my other assorted worldbuilding messes, I will add onto this post later if there is anything interesting I can think to expand on.

[wazzappp]

i LOVE your body horror/biology jaime designs so much. question about how you think khaji's healing factor works - does it have any interesting ways of dealing with head trauma? it's never seemed to be a problem for jaime, but comics tend not to address that getting your head smacked into things is bad even with armor, so idk if you have any thoughts. is khaji doing something fucked up in there or is it just comic logic.

Hello!! Im so glad you're enjoying my art and my ideas <3.

I have a general idea about Jaime's enhanced healing which you might have already seen here, but I don't really have anything specific for head trauma.

The comics don't have much explanation in terms of healing, but there is a bit with prevention of head trauma I guess. In Rebirth (one of the few good things about it) Khaji mutates Jaime's skeleton. Not much more detail is given about it, but my personal head cannon is some kind of carbon fiber coating. Its lightweight, sturdy (5 times stronger than steel!), and isn't toxic inside the body (we already use it to make stuff like hip replacements)!

They would have to work around the release and production of new red blood cells, maybe interweaving with the network of capillaries, but it could work! Carbon fiber is already similar to a woven texture. It shouldn't be too hard to weave in a few blood vessels (<- that sounds. so much more fucked up when I put it down on paper.)

It wouldn't necessarily help with healing but hey, prevention can be better than a cure!

[monpetitchattriste]

CHAPTER 2 IS UP!

Chapter 2 of my @mlbigbang story is out now! I thanks to my amazing friend and beta @burntwaffle12 and my amazing artist @piratesandpizza! I can't wait for everyone to the amazing art they made!

She could feel the daggers of Lila’s eyes shoved into her back as Adrien unpacked his bag and set up his place at the table. It was too late to decline his request. The class dragged on as the teacher droned through the syllabus, but her attention was fixed on The Adrien Agreste ™. He had an uncanny familiarity as if they had known each other forever. He was, in reality, a stranger, an image that adorned her walls in her teenage years. Yet here he was, seated beside her, and every fiber of her being insisted that she knew him. But she didn’t. In an attempt to avoid eye contact, she glanced at the paper, but couldn’t help herself and ended up looking at him. He bore an uncanny resemblance to Chat Noir, from the emerald hue of his eyes to the sun-kissed blonde hair. It was like seeing a civilian version of him. But that couldn’t be possible, right? She’d grown up scrutinizing Adrien’s image—strictly for fashion purposes. Never had she considered comparing him to Chat.

Her brain was fixated on it, leaving no room for other thoughts.