#( btw i hope this is good enough )

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 61-64)

* I-I don't think we were talking about the same thing...

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[inkskinned]

she says he won't let her get a dog, which is fine, because they're in an apartment, and that's the kind of thing people say about their partners. he won't let me get a dog. and you're at a dinner party and you tilt your head a little to the side just like that dog he won't let her get, because is this the thing that's going to upset you? you don't know every corner of their relationship, she could be joking, they could have had so many healthy conversations about the dog, right, and maybe she's not letting herself get the dog because of money and time and whatever. but, like, she did say let

and she wants to move away from his hometown and he wants to stay and then he tells you with a wink and a conspiratorial stage whisper don't worry i'll convince her and she laughs about it - so clearly this is something they laugh about. but you do just stand there and stare at him like what the fuck, man. you can't say what you want to say which is why do you get the final say on everything because they're both obviously aware of the other person's stance on this and have obviously had private conversations about it and what are you going to do about it except make a scene and then he'll be mad at you and call you one of those bitches behind your back and she'll cut you off, which is a loss that doesn't feel worth it just because he makes you a little skeeved out every 3rd comment

and they both agree he just isn't the type to get flowers which is fine because everyone shows love differently, and are you really gonna judge someone based on their sense of individual relationship responsibility? maybe he's constantly cleaning her car and writing her poems and making her furniture or something. maybe she doesn't even like flowers and this is perfect, actually. and no you couldn't date him, obviously, ew; but like, she tells you she's happy. you almost send her a tiktok that says don't be 25 and the cool girl that doesn't need anything, you'll hate not getting flowers at 30, but that's like, starting drama & you shouldn't start drama needlessly.

and you're a little older than her but not so much older you can pull the whole trust me on this one babe thing and besides that wouldn't have worked anyway (when does it ever) and besides you have trauma so you and your therapist both agree that you're always looking for a problem even when there isn't one. and you tell yourself that just because you see them for 15 minutes every month does not mean you can identify every single red flag based on a single shitty half-joking(?) comment

and besides, what are you going to do? she says i actually wanted another stand mixer but thankfully he stops me when i'm about to spend too much money and you're standing there like are you okay? is this normal? is this just something people say? and again - what are you going to do?

to your therapist you try to language it - it's not, like, any of my business. but sometimes, doesn't it feel like - you should do something. there's got to be something, right? you've tried dropping little hints but they sail right through and you've tried having a single serious conversation and she got upset because why does it matter to you, yes it's different but we're happy, it doesn't need to make sense to you and you're like. really unwilling to push a boundary about it anymore; because the truth is that you know logically it shouldn't matter to you, as long as both parties are happy.

and besides, you've been wrong before. it's just... like, every time you see them both, something else happens, some kind of shiver down your spine like do you even hear each other when you talk. it's their strange, bickering orbit. just the way he's on his phone through dinner or watching sports instead of helping in the kitchen or, fuck, another one of these little throwaway comments he makes about we'll see about that, babe. she laughs when he calls her passions stupid shit and meanwhile she gets him tickets to see the knicks and he tells you well at least she's smart about something and still! it's none of your business.

you say get the dog anyway and she laughs. like, this is is you being funny. and not you saying - no really. get the dog. get the dog and get out of here. pack up and start running.

[shroommush]

So i drew some fanart of @pompadorbz sorry boys "still wakes the deep" au ! I had fun with the more action filled drawings, and definetly wanna do more >:P

While drawing, i got to brainstorming about what character roles the boys might take in the story. Like, charlies probably caz, and maybe phil is caz's friend whos a cook (i forgot his name) but then i thought about if characters like Rennick had a coresponding cc, and i immediately thought about schlatt. So, i have ideas about what expanding the au might look like, but this isnt MY au, so for now ill hold off on yapping my ideas and just share what ive drawn for now

But either way, i REALLY enjoy this au and love all the ansgt potential it has. Like i was thinking, who out of the boys would end up being the last one? (Aka, taking caz's place at the end of the story with the lighter) and thought that, out of the boys, it would just make the most sense to be tommy. And thats HORRIBLE, AUGH ITS SO SAD but i LOVE IT

Anyways, sorry for the rambling, i hope you guys enjoy the art :] i still have to draw that other scene with charlie on the elevator, tho, so i might come back with more later

[caramelly-art]

[atmospheral]

Distantly, he hears Sanji say it. "You know that's not Ace." And he knows this. The wavy hair, the freckles, the slight furrow of his brow even in unconsciousness. How could he not?  Even now, white-haired and black-winged and strung up in green fluid, he is Luffy's brother. And he hears himself reply. "I know. But I'm still taking him with us." - if i could see your face once more

seraphim ace AU inspired by @lunisoular's amazing art (1, 2) and also by the fact that ace was offered a position as a shichibukai (which he turned down)

black-haired seraphim!ace under the cut:

[kaiserouo]

i love him

tbh i think the lineart is better than the final result

[crescentfool]

happy mochizuki monday!!!

[toxintouch]

yk how in veres likes on his character sheet it says he like cooking (badly)…… WHY HAS NO ONE DONE A FIC ABOUT THAT YET‼️⁉️⁉️ THAT SHOULD NOTTT BE A WASTED OPPORTUNITY. i’m not even joking im ab to send this to so many people because i can’t let this go to waste 😞

Here u are anon!  For the record, you are completely free to send this prompt around wherever you’d like!  It was such a fun idea, I’d love to see more takes on it. ^^

Warnings: Vere talking Innuendos? Innuendos.  So many, and I don’t guarantee that they are funny lol.  Just a general silly vibe and imo: absolutely  tooth rotting fluff.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅SOUS CHEF ‧₊˚♡₊˚

You find yourself wandering through Lowtown during the lunch hour, trying to decide what sounds like a good meal.

Your mouth waters at the scents being carried on the breeze, a plethora of pleasant aromas wafting out of the eateries nestled inside the Amaryllis District, so fragrant that you can smell them all the way down on the bustling streets of Lowtown as long as you stay downwind.

However, if there’s one nice thing about knowing Leander it's that you also know you don’t have to go that far (or spend that much) for a delicious lunch. 

Near enough to the Wet Wick, there’s a series of side streets that make up an eclectic amalgamation of Lowtown and the Amaryllis District, and in it: a small and inconspicuous eatery.  The menu changes often, though you aren’t sure if that’s out of innovation or necessity, but the food is always filling and reasonably priced.

You follow the winding streets, getting lost for a brief moment before correcting your course, traveling until you see colorful chipped girih tiles and wide, clean windows.  You let yourself into the shop, the now familiar sound of hinges in need of an oiling welcoming you.  

There’s an assortment of goods on display–jars of honey and spiced fruit and loaves of braided bread with seeds–all kept safely locked away beneath an enchanted pane of glass.

Looking around, though, you don’t see anyone selling said fantastic wares.

You call out, expecting the shop keep or her wife to come running but instead you hear…silence.

Followed by a loud metallic clatter.

You freeze, unsure what to do, what the threat is–if there’s even a threat?–but before you can make up your mind, you’re greeted by a most unexpected sight.

Vere comes out of the kitchen area, his hair swept into an artfully stunning up-do that reveals the long line of his neck and clavicle, blemished only by the heavy collar locked around his throat. 

He’s wearing a weighty linen apron over his clothing, presumably to protect his outfit, though–his long gossamer sleeves are completely discordant with the notion, making you think that maybe the apron is more of an aesthetic choice.

“What’s this–?  A mouse?  In my kitchen?” Vere asks playfully as you continue to stare, dumbfounded.  He wields a spatula in his hand like a weapon–swatching it into his off-hand like a riding crop with a decisive snap.

“Where is–?”

“–The shop keep?  Wherever she pleases–the shop’s closed on Mondays.”

(You really don’t like the way he’s watching you…  Or the way he keeps inching closer…)

You take a step backwards, your eyes never leaving his.  “Oh,” you say, bandaged hands reaching blindly behind you.  “I didn’t realize.  The door was unlocked, so…”  You trail off.

You find the doorknob at last.  You attempt to turn it only to find that it won’t budge.

“Was it?”

Vere saunters up to you, tail swaying behind him.  You manage to tear your eyes away from his predator stare to search for possible exits, though you know for a fact you won’t be fast enough.   You look back and he’s already in your space, crowding you against the entryway.

(He smells really good, actually.  Like leather and spice and the subtle cling of perfume and incense.  And beneath that, something–earthy–animalistic, but in a way that’s intoxicating as opposed to unpleasant.)

“I was just about to make myself a snack–how nice that a snack came to me.”

“Stop playing around.” You try to steel yourself and inject the perfect amount of scolding into your voice while combating his heated stare.  “I know you’re just fucking with me to try and get a reaction; you and I both know you’re not going to eat me.” 

If he was, he would have done it by now.  Sometime within the weeks you’ve known him.  …Probably. 

Unless he just likes to play with his food.

“I didn’t realize you knew me so well,”  he says, looking amused.  “Perhaps I didn’t plan to, but now I simply can’t resist.  You look so absolutely delectable, how could I possibly contain myself?”

You don’t get the chance to reply.  Vere’s countenance changes suddenly–you watch his ears flatten a second before you hear the screaming whistle of a teapot.  His ears twitch in annoyance at the sound, his perfectly sculpted face showing a sour sneer.  He gives you a sideways glance, calculating.

“Then again.  I find myself in need of a sous chef.  Congratulations on your promotion.  Come along now.”  He hooks a finger into your cloak and pulls you easily into the kitchen.  (To be fair, you don’t struggle.  Anyone would want to see where this is going, right?)

He releases you once you’ve crossed over the threshold, waving his fingers uncaringly towards a second apron affixed to a hook on the wall as he beelines to remove a glass teapot from the stove and stifle the noise.  He moves quickly as you watch, casually throwing aside the spatula in his hand in favor of an ornate silver teaspoon.  He measures a vibrantly colored tea into the inlaid steeping container of the equally ornate teapot and takes a pleased inhale as the tea’s fragrance blooms, humming as he flips over a delicate hourglass to keep track of the steeping time.

There’s silence for a moment–

Him watching the teapot and you watching him.

“Well?”  He asks, without looking up.  You’ve seen this look before, you think – this pensive, almost lonesome look that makes your heart ache against all better judgment.  “Staying or going?”

He grins when you put on the apron.  You search his face for some sincerity, but he’s all sharp teeth and tall ears, covering any glimpses of deeper emotion with a sheen of smugness.  He circles you once you have the apron on, taking in the image.

“Mm, don’t you just look adorable.  Very domesticated.”

You’re pretty sure that the word he’s looking for is domestic. But of course, he knows what he said and he meant to say it.  You decide that he’s probably betting on your correction, already armed with a witty retort.  You smooth the apron down while pointedly looking away, deciding that you won’t give him the satisfaction.  You hear him chuckle.

Since you’re avoiding looking at Vere, you look around the kitchen for the first time.

It’s a spacious workspace–moreso than the storefront, even.  There’s a large iron stove unlike anything you’ve ever seen, covered with magical runes and dials, with a large hearth built into the belly of it.  A plethora of pots and pans have been placed on the burners, left to sizzle and pop in the red hot heat.  

Oil is singing from the heated, shallow basins but you don’t see anything cooking inside.  

There’s a slab of meat diced into neat squares and a heaping bowl of lumpy batter set to the side of the stove top.

“What are you making?”  You ask, trying to make sense of the scene.

“Panko crusted fish filet.  And there’s a pasta in the oven.  For dessert, I was thinking–” he gives you a sly look, one that makes your ears feel warm, “hmm, well.  I just had a much better idea in regards to dessert.”  He makes a show of licking his fangs, the movements of his tongue slow and sensual.

You think you tied your apron too tight; your airway is feeling a little constricted.  It seems to be getting worse the longer you watch.

You clear your throat, tearing your eyes away.  More ingredients, most partially prepared, and a host of dirtied pots and pans greet you.  You turn your back to him as you explore, fully engrossed in all of the views that the mess of a kitchen has to offer.  You’re almost afraid to ask: “So, what am I here to help with?”

“Oh?”  You don’t hear Vere come up next to you, but you feel him brushing up against you.  “Does my darling sous chef require…instruction?  A guiding hand, so to speak?”  You freeze, feeling his breath against your ear, shivers running down your spine at his light and teasing chuckle.

But then he’s breezing past you, making a wide dramatic gesture toward the large tome perched surreptitiously on the counter.  “Lucky for you, I’ve a recipe.”  His tail wags swishes elegantly behind him as he beams with pride.

His tail knocks the whisk out of the mystery batter beside the fish filet but he takes no notice.

Vere hops gracefully up onto the counter, reaching for the batter.  He does an impressive twist in order to grab hold of another whisk and you take the time to appreciate that.  Then, with Vere occupied and seemingly ignoring you, you take a look at the recipe book.  

The text is old and withered with the occasional dash of sprawling spidery script painting the margins.  (Said writing is utterly illegible–you’re actually not sure if it’s in a language you can read, though if you squint you think you can see something that looks like the word ‘cake’.)  The page it’s opened to is ripped in half, rendering precious steps of the recipe lost to time.  You spot a mysterious bite mark piercing through the corner of the leather cover.

And can’t stop yourself from surreptitiously glancing over at Vere.  He’s moved on from the batter (which looks as lumpy as it did a minute ago) and is now eating skewers of raw fish with his nails.

“You’re not supposed to eat while you cook,” you say, the time worn words out of your mouth before you can examine your personal stance on them.

“Says who?  Some limp dick?  No shame in indulging, pet.”

“You’re not even gonna have anything left to cook,” you warn.

“Hum, sounds like my sous chef should get to work covering them in batter instead of just standing there before I eat them all.”

You roll your eyes, but follow through with instructions.  The space is unfamiliar and your movements are slow and unsure with Vere looming over you from his perch on high, watching.

One of the pans of oil gives an ominous pop.  “Hmm, sounds like it’s hot enough,” says Vere.  “Move over.”

“Is that safe?”

“For me,” Vere says simply.  “And it’s faster.  Now stand further back or you'll get splattered–and not in the fun way.”  Idly, he tosses a batter covered filet into the shallow pan.  The resulting hiss makes you both cringe.

As if on queue, the hourglass for the tea gives a gentle chime, lighting up with a golden glow.  (You’re beginning to wonder how this humble shop can afford all these magical items, but then again this is the city of secrets.  You’re probably better off not knowing.)  Vere’s ears perk up, pleased.  He tosses the remaining fillets in the pan without a fuss, setting lids on top of each to contain the oil, acting as if doing so is going to stop any potential disaster.

Main course forgotten, he moves on to digging something out from inside one of the many cupboards.  “Be a dear and cut this for me, will you?”  He hands you a delicate peach before heading to the tea pot, stirring the contents and adding what must be a priceless amount of honey.

The peach in your hand is overripe but still vibrant–amazing, as you haven’t seen fresh fruit at all since you came to Eridia.  Your mouth waters anew as you remember what led you here in the first place–your quest for a meal–and you’re almost tempted to take a bite, follow Vere’s advice and sink your teeth in.

“My, my.  I’m almost jealous.  I thought you only looked at me like that.”

Vere shushes the denial from your lips, bossing you around regarding how he wants the peach sliced before shooing you out of his way and finishing his remaining tea preparations,with the look of an artist at work.  The tea is a warm oolong color, made only more alluring once the infusion of peach is complete.

It’s refreshing, too, once Vere serves it to you over ice.

You can almost ignore the great plumes of smoke coming from the oven.

Vere cooks how others might enjoy a leisurely stroll. 

Which is to say, he seems to be having fun, but you’re not convinced he intends on really going anywhere.  Still, there’s a rhythm to it–a dance, though he leads you in expected loops and turns, changes the tune at a moment's notice.  He’ll get bored of the task at hand and find some new spice to peruse, demand you taste test an ingredient or give your opinion on a dizzying new flavor he’s concocted.

(He manages to convince you to sample a bit of cucumber soup from the cold box.  You retch, proclaiming it salty, downing another glass of delicious peach oolong–

“I can still taste it in the back of my throat…!”–and he cackles wildly.)

Thick locks of hair are falling out of his up-do by the time he’s satisfied, framing his face and bringing your attention, again to the inviting line of his clavicle.  He tosses his loose hair over his shoulder, preening.

The recipe book is basically ruined, and the pasta is null and void, but some of the fillets look mildly edible.  The artful garnish is beautiful, at least.  The kale and orange slices really bring out the crispy burnt bits.  Vere seems to enjoy plating the food a great deal, humming and rearranging and circling the display until he deems it arranged to perfection.

He’s elegant when he takes a bite, biting down with a crunch.  His tail goes very still for a moment, then shivers microscopically as he chews.  He swallows in a manner that you can only describe as dignified, dabbing his lips with a napkin.  You wait in anticipation, but Vere says nothing for a long time.  Then, he quietly takes the old recipe book and throws it away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t insist on you trying it too.

You end up snacking on some of the pre-made goods, drinking the remaining tea and lounging at one of the shop’s cozy little tables.  The mood is light and easy, and the view is magnificent.  Outside, there’s nothing but trash littered streets and urchins, but inside…the afternoon glow coming from the window illuminates Vere like a sunset, painting him in dazzling shades of gold and red and bronze.

Vere hums, peering at you pointedly through his sooty lashes.  “So, dessert?”

You can’t imagine the look that comes across your face–whatever it is, it makes Vere laugh.

“What are you giving me that look for?  My intentions are pure.” His voice is a masterclass in syrupy false-innocence.  “As clean as Leander’s bed sheets after–”

“Please don’t finish that sentence and give me any mental images,” you beg.  “I have to sleep there tonight, I’d rather not know.”

“Ignorance is bliss.”  Vere agrees, closing his eyes and appearing to bask in the sun for a moment.  His face does something that you don’t quite catch–some hidden expression–but then, he’s smiling easily.  He must really be relaxed if he can still smile seconds after thinking about Leander.  You’re still admiring him when the shadows against the walls flicker, and suddenly he isn’t sitting next to you any more.

Instead, he’s returning from the kitchen, a tray in hand.

He sets it down in front of you, revealing an assortment of strawberries and an ornate silver porringer of what appears to be melted chocolate.  Vere sets it down on the table, plucking the small dessert spoon from the chocolate once he’s seated across from you again.

“Occasionally, life does offer up something sweet to savor–only for those willing to go out and take it.”  His tongue darts out to lick the chocolate off the spoon in his hand.  He maintains eye contact as his tongue laves across the basin and–embarrassingly–you think you get a little lightheaded from the intensity with which your blood rushes to your face.  The crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you that he know exactly where your mind has gone.

Setting the spoon down, Vere instead picks up a bare strawberry, leaning in closer to press it gently to your mouth.

The chocolate is overly bitter–a little burnt, perhaps, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you’re tasting the remnants of it on Vere’s lips.

(Before leaving, you plop a few coins down on the counter as payment.  You brought enough to cover your food…but definitely not enough to cover the mess in the kitchen.  There’s really nothing you can do about that.  

You hope you don’t get blacklisted.  You’d like to come back next Monday.)

Hope you enjoyed if you made it this far! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[footlongdingledong]

got to act 3

[pup-pee]

i just i jist i justi just i just i jsut i just ji jstu kji just i just

“kinda” a redraw of this but not rlly like @ all

[cosmicstarlatte]

Belphie being mean and pinching readers nose while she's sucking him off and not letting off until he finishes🥺?

-From: Goodgirly🔒

18+ nsfw, minors do not interact // dubcon, mean belphie, degrading bj, tears

"Mm...you can do better than that."

Belphie disappointedly looked down at you as he slid his cock out of your mouth and slapped it against your cheek a few times while you coughed and gasped for air.

He sighed. "Let's try again before I get soft."

Before you could take another deep breath, his hand found itself on the back of your head, while the other guided his thick cock between your swollen wet lips once more. He let out a small content hum as you gagged, your warm throat squeezing around him.

He peered down and grinned when he saw the tears in your eyes and the way you struggled to breathe. He could feel his cock getting harder. Now they're getting somewhere.

Belphie kept his hold on your head and with his other hand he pinched your nose, cutting off the only air supply you had left. You dug your nails into his thighs and struggled as your loud wet choking and gagging filled the room. Belphie let out a low groan as he fucked your mouth.

"Fuck! You look and sound so much fucking better like this."

The fat tip of his cock abused the poor narrow walls of your throat with each thrust. Big fat tears rolled down your cheeks as he continued pummeling into your face, balls slapping against your chin. You tried to push against his arm, his thighs, anything to at least let you breathe a little but his strength was unmatched compared to yours.

"Hah...! You can breathe when I'm done! Oh fuck, fuck, almost there—!"

With a few more harsh thrusts, his hand finally let go of your nose as he reached his peak. He moaned as he spilled his cum down your throat; while you desperately breathed in as much air as you could.

Once he was finished he slid his cock out and admired the piece of work left on the floor.

Your hair was a mess, tears still running down your cheeks, and drool covering your chin all while you coughed and gulped in globs of air.

Belphie could feel his cock stirring once more. ⬦

[marcmorrigan]

@fenglianweek day 6: memories/growing up

the best thing thats ever been mine

[nights-flying-fox]

Mystic Sickness Part 1

This is based on @turtleblogatlast 's post about mystic sickness idea :D Hope you like it!!!

Word Count: 2178 ☆ Fandom: rottmnt ☆ Warnings: a brief mention of throwing up, nothing else i can think of ^^ ☆ AO3 Link: N/A

 Raph has had his bad mornings. He had been sick from overworking too. With how he felt today, he could tell it was a mix of both.

 

 Except it turned out there was more than that. It must be, or else why would a clone of himself stare at him like that?

 

 Raph yelped as he fell from the bed. "What the-?!"

 

 His copy didn't seem to care. It lay on his bed, not even looking at Raph. The turtle blinked in confusion. That was definitely his own ninpo copy. Why was it here, and why was it moving like that? Raph tried to focus and control it, just like he always did, but he failed. The copy still lay on the bed.

 

 He stared at him. Raph was too tired for that, not to mention how early it was-

 

 "AH-"

 

 Raph turned around. "Leo?"

 

 There was nobody else in his room though.

 

 "Is this some sort of joke?" Raph grunted. "If so, Raph's going back to bed and leavin' you to deal with today's plans alone. All day."

 

 "RAPH NO-"

 

 He turned around again, looking everywhere searching for his brother. Again, nothing.

 

 "I am really not in the mood for pranks-"

 

 Suddenly Leo appeared in front of him, "RAPH HELP I-" and disappeared.

 

 Raph looked at the empty spot where a second ago his brother stood. First his own copy, now Leo. What was going on?

 

 "RAAAAAPH!!" 

 

 Raph groaned, “WHAT IS IT DONNIE?”

 

 “WHAT THE HECK ARE YOUR COPIES DOING?!”

 

 His copies? Raph glanced at his copy on his bed before leaving his room and heading to the living room. He had many ideas, most of them nonsense considering his tired and hazy mind. But nothing could’ve prepared him for this:

 

 Many copies of himself running around, accidentally breaking some stuff, some sitting in random places... Donnie was standing at the other entrance, looking tired and angry. Pissed off even.

 

 He noticed Raph looking. “Dear brother, may you explain what is going on during such an early hour that you have decided bring out a whole army of yous?”

 

 “It is not me...” Raph mumbled as he walked towards Donnie, not being able to look away from the chaos going on in the room.

 

 “They are your copies though. Can’t you control them?” Donnie pointed out. “Genuinely asking. I am too tired to be salty.”

 

 “I tried but it is not working.” Raph tried again, failing. Then gave his full attention to Donnie, “You are tired too?”

 

 “I suspect I have caught a cold.” He nodded.

 

 “Me too. I’ve been feeling down since I woke up.”

 

 “Groan. It better not be some sort of illness.” Donnie said.

 

 “As long as it is not rat flu, it will be okay.” Raph reassured.

 

 Donnie shuddered. “Rat flu. Let’s forget about the failure and move on to our current problem.”

 

 “Cold or them?” Raph asked.

 

 “...” Donnie stared at nothing before answering. A usual sign of Donnie being sick. “Yes.”

 

 “Okay, okay. Sickness. Leo has the most knowledge about this.” Raph said out loud. “I’ll go and ask him.”

 

 “Mhm.” Donnie had already begun walking towards the kitchen.

 

 Raph started walking towards Leo’s room, ignoring the messy hallway. Since when did they have all that stuff and who was responsible for this mess? Probably his clones... When he reached to the room, “Leo?” he called. He received no reply. Raph didn’t bother asking again. He walked in, not caring about Leo’s upcoming protests. Except there was none because Leo wasn’t in there. “What?..”

 

 Oh. Right, he had seen Leo for a second in his room for a second. He had appeared and disappeared as if teleporting. But Raph didn’t remember seeing his katanas. He glanced around and saw the swords near his bed on the ground. He was right.

 

 What did this mean?.. What was going on this morning?? Raph began getting annoyed with whatever was going on. Not to mention how anxious he started feeling not finding Leo in his room. Where was he?

 

 Maybe he was with Mikey. Maybe they were doing some stupid prank.

 

 Raph a bit faster from before left the room and began walking towards Mikey’s room. Normally Mikey would be up, making breakfast. But if he and Donnie were right, he should be in his room resting. As he stepped into Mikey’s room, he hopped to see him and Leo doing some sort of mischief.

 

 Instead, he found Mikey levitating, golden chains around him, asleep.

 

 “What the shell?!”

 

 Mikey yawned, blinking. “Mmmmmorning Raphie!” He smiled, being the morning person he was. “Is there any possibility you let me sleep a bit more?”

 

 “Mikey, you are flying.”

 

 “What?”

 

 “Look around, Mike.”

 

 Mikey did. In a second his expression shifted from confused to shocked to excited to panicked. “I AM FLYING!”

 

 “THAT’S WHAT I AM SAYING!” Raph yelled. “GET BACK TO THE GROUND NOW.”

 

 “I DON’T KNOW HOW TO!”

 

 “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW?!”

 

 “Boys, what is all this yelling for?..” Raph heard Splinter’s voice come from behind. Then he heard a gasp. “ORANGE WHY ARE YOU LEVIATING?”

 

 “I have no idea.” Mikey answered. He noticed the chains around him, “Oooh I also have no idea what these are but cool.”

 

 Raph took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. First things first. Pops, have you seen Leo?”

 

 “Uh- no. No, I haven’t.” Splinter turned his attention to Raph, less surprised and more worried.

 

 “Mikey, did you see him?”

 

 “Nope!”

 

 So Leo was lost. Don’t panic Raph. He is probably somewhere around here, he thought. “I’ll text April.”

 

 “Red, is everythin—”

 

 Suddenly, just like how it happened in Raph’s room, Leo appeared in the room. He looked very puzzled, tired, annoyed, and a bit panicked. Before Raph could be sure, Leo disappeared again.

 

 His voice, however, was heard from another room. “COME ON!!”

 

 And then from another room, they heard him again. Raph couldn’t make up the words but he sounded irritated.

 

 “Was that Leo?” Mikey asked.

 

 “Yes.” Raph answered, still very confused.

 

 “Where did he go?”

 

 “I don’t know.”

 

 “Boys, what is going on?” Splinter sounded serious.

 

 Raph sadly didn’t have a proper answer. “That’s what I am trying to figure out.” He sighed. “Can you check Donnie? He is in the kitchen and said that he felt sick too.”

 

 “I will be waiting you two there.” Splinter nodded. “I’ll look around for Blue on the way.”

 “CAN SOMEONE—”

 

 Leo’s voice came from his room.

 

 “—HELP ME—”

 

 This time from somewhere closer.

 

 “I think I can handle him.” Raph said.

 

 Splinter smiled, “I’ll make you chicken soup.”

 

 “Thanks Dad.”

 

 As Splinter left, Raph reached for Mikey. Grabbing his blanket, he pulled him closer to him. Mikey watched him with sleepy eyes. “Raphie, can we sleep more?”

 

 “No, Big Man. We need to help Leo first, and then we need to eat something.” Raph said softly, walking out of the room meanwhile. Mikey huffed but didn’t protest. Raph decided to find Leo following his voice: “Leo? Where are you?”

 

 “RAPH! Bathroom—” Suddenly his voice was cut. Then continued from somewhere else, “Never mind. I-” Another pause. The Leo calmly yelled, “I’ll go insane.”

 

 “What’s happening?” Raph shouted.

 

 “I keep teleported-” “-without wanting-” “-to every second.”

 

 “That sounds bad.”

 

 “You don’t say-” “DONNIE IS THA-” “THAT WAS MY MUG!!”

 

 At least Leo didn't teleport out of the lair.

 

 "I think we should call Draxum." Mikey hummed, somehow unbothered.

 

 "Wha- why?" Splinter's reaction hadn't changed even after everything. 

 

 "He knows about mystic stuff." Mikey said lazily. It reminded Raph of how he was when he had eaten one of the poisoned pizza puffs.

 

 "You think this is because of a mystic problem?" Raph asked.

 

 "I know it is because of a mystic problem." Mikey confirmed. 

 

 "How?"

 

 "Can't you feel it? Hm?"

 

 Raph wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel. Donnie leaned towards them, goggles on his eyes. "He is right. There is something wrong with our mystic energies." 

 

 "I'm calling Draxum." Raph announced. 

 

 "Already on it." Donnie interrupted. He, from out of nowhere, had found his phone and was calling the yokai. 

 

 "Please tell me you're solving this." Leo appeared next to Raph, not looking good.

 

 "We're calling Draxum." Mikey smiled.

 

 "Oh good, because I- hrk-" 

 

 Luckily before he could throw up, he disappeared. 

 

 "We need you here. No, we didn't put the world in danger. We aren't dying either. No, we aren't calling you so you can cook us your new abomination. Abomination as a strange creature made of food, i.e. Sloppy Joseph. No, I'm not talking about your food. Yes. There's a problem with our ninpo. Okay, goodbye." Donnie put the phone on the table. "He'll be here soon." 

 

 "Good… Donnie, what's that?" Raph pointed at the tech that wasn't on the table a second ago. 

 

 "Ah. A piece for my new project. Why?"

 

 "When did you bring it here?"

 

 "...I didn't."

 

 "What do you mean I didn't?" 

 

 Donnie raised a brow. "I didn't bring it here. I was thinking about it and it appeared." 

 

 "Appeared?"

 

 Donnie shrugged.

 

 "Since when do things appear when you think of them, Dee?" Raph questioned.

 

 "That's a talent of mine, dear Raphael. My ninpo is very unique in comparison to yours–" Donnie began explaining.

 

 "Since when do they appear without you controlling them?" Raph corrected his own question.

 

 "Ah. Yes, that would be… since last night." 

 

 "And you didn't think of telling us?" Raph was losing his patience, to be honest.

 

 "I didn't think it would be a problem." Donnie admitted.

 

 Raph wanted to break the table. "You thought it wouldn't be a problem." He repeated. "And what if you accidentally create something deadly?" 

 

 "Come on Raph, he creates something deadly all the time." Mikey chimed in. "Like pipe bombs." 

 

 "Mikey, don't!" But Raph was too late. A pipe bomb was formed next to Donnie's mug. 

 

 "None of us is dumb enough to use a pipe bomb, we will be fine." Donnie stated. Then took a sip from his tea. 

 

 Raph wasn't sure about that. He trusted his brothers, but he also knew how much of a trouble they could be. 

 

 Leo appeared among them again. "Dee, I'd suggest you not enter your lab." He said tiredly. 

 

 "Nardo, what did you do to my lab?" Donnie looked at him with a mixture of horror and anger.

 

"Adiós." He made a peace sign and disappeared again.

 

 Donnie immediately opened his phone to check the cameras inside his laboratory. Raph could see the fury in his eyes. Maybe Leo was lucky to be teleported every second, now that he got on Donnie's hit list. 

 

 Splinter put bowls of chicken soup in front of them, "You boys look terrible."

 

 "Thanks." Raph sighed.

 

 "You'll feel much better after my delicious soup." He said. "Now, only if Blue could join us…"

 

 The soup was warm and smelled delicious. Raph couldn't wait to taste it. He would already, if he hadn't noticed his copy coming in. Ninpo Raph walked towards them, stood by them, then took the pipe bomb and ran.

 

 "What the-?! HEY STOP!" Raph got up and ran after him, leaving Mikey to float again.

 

 He chased his clone back to the living room, but it was hard to catch yourself. Especially in a room full of yourself. He stopped, trying to find which one was the right clone. When he did, he was leaving towards the bathroom. Raph didn't waste time following him. Before he reached him though, someone made his copy trip and fell. 

 

 "This yours, Boss Man?" Leo asked.

 

 "Yep." And with a punch, poof the copy disappeared. "Thanks."

 

 "Save me some soup." Leo said before getting teleported again. 

  

 "I will." Raph sighed, taking the pipe bomb from the ground. He could hide it in his room for now. Then go back and drink some soup so he can focus on the situation better when Draxum arrives. Perfect plan.

 

 He quickly walked to his room, found a nice place to hide it, and proceeded to grab his mask and stuff. Then he remembered the transceivers Donnie had put on their gear. They could use this to communicate with Leo! If only Leo can stand in a place for a moment. Raph still thought it was worth a try, so he went to Leo’s room to get his stuff as well before returning to the kitchen.

 

 Donnie had dozed off on the table with a few weapons and tech things that Raph didn’t know their names around him. Mikey was still floating, also sleeping. He seemed to be fine though. Splinter was enjoying his own bowl of soup. Raph sat down and finally tasted the soup. It was delicious, as always, even though it wasn’t warm anymore.

 

 “Did you boys mess up with somebody evil again?” Splinter asked Raph.

 

 “No, we were training and patroling the past few days.” He answered. “That’s what I don’t understand too.”

 

 “Hmm...”

 

 “Don’t worry, Pops. I am sure it is something Draxum can explain. Then we can fix it all at once and then rest.”

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

DARK CREAM WEEK: day 5- punish/reward

idk man i think your threats would work a lot more often if you stopped being so handsome about it fdrgbegh<333

dark cream week and comic are by @zu-is-here

[milkbreadtoast]

The artist list announcement was finally made on twitter so I can say it..!!

IT'S SUCH AN HONOR TO BE PARTICIPATING... I really wish I could go there in person but just the fact that they're letting me participate all the way from overseas is so exciting!! I really wanted to do this bc I love twsb and yeseo sm so I'm so honored to be invited... I think the way fans organize these types of events for their favs/fav works is so amazing!! I wish this kind of thing was common where I live too... I've been working rly hard preparing artwork for this event and I can't wait to share them T///T EVERYONE GET READY TO CELEBRATE THE MOST IMPORTANT INTERNATIONAL HOLIDAY NEXT MONTH FEB 22...!!🤎💜

[bonos-grindcore-sideproject]

Okay, HTDAAB re-release with EXTRA songs! Okay. I'm weak. It's fine.

Still waiting for a new album though. I know you guys are sitting on one. I know Edge is still twiddling the knobs. Come ON, already.