#narrator txt

[madmutts]

Facing Fears: Lapse Arc.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

Angelo sniffles and huffs to himself as he sits just outside the lair. He feels shame for crying yet again, but he simply couldn't hold it in. With his hoodie draped over his lap, he scrubs away tears with a sleeve. The turtle grumbles to himself, "Just.. jus go in…"

He has to go home eventually. His brothers will find out whether he wants them to or not… Angelo takes a deep, shaky breath, then stands up on wobbly legs. He uses the wall to support himself, dragging his feet as he steps through the entryway to the lair. It's quiet… Angelo can feel anxiety spike inside his chest.

He barely makes it halfway to his train car when he hears a voice from behind, making him freeze.

"Angie! Where've you been?" It's Lee. And he doesn't sound happy… Angelo's hands shake. "You were supposed to text one of us every hour, you-"

The box turtle holds his breath when Lee cuts himself off. He can feel him step closer, and Angelo shrinks in on himself a little, still not having turned to face his brother.

"Mikey… Why do you smell like that..?"

When the younger turtle finally takes in air, it's shaky. He blinks away the sting of tears, only turning further away from Lee. "I.. I don.. know wh. what you're.. you're talkin about…"

"Mikey."

Lee's stern tone makes Angelo tense further, and he whimpers, those tears blurring his vision. It's only when his older brother is just a step away that he speaks again, his voice small and timid. "I'm sorry… I don't-.. I d-d-..."

The hand not gripping his hoodie and mask raises to his face, covering his eyes as he grimaces. He hates crying so much like this… He feels childish.

Angelo flinches when a hand lands on his shell, and he looks up at Lee, whose face holds a… worried expression. Not mad. Just.. concerned. And that makes Angelo cry harder. Why isn't he mad? He should be very mad.

"Oh, Angie…" Lee mutters, brows creasing and arm going around his little brother to pull him against his plastron. He leans down to rest his beak against Angelo's head. The younger turtle hiccups and whines, crying against his brother's stupid shirt.

"I'm sorry… I'm-.. I tried. I was- they-" Angelo lets out a small irritated groan, face scrunched up. Why is it so fucking hard to just talk? "I tried. so hard. n-not to.. I- hh.."

Lee gently shushes him, rubbing his hand along the younger turtle's shell. "Slow down, little brother… Take it easy."

The box turtle clings tightly to his older brother, his hoodie and mask abandoned on the subway floor. "I didn't want to- I-.. I don't wanna.. b-be like this anymore.. I-"

With a quiet shush, the slider nuzzles his beak against Angelo's head. "I know. I know, Angie…"

Muffled hiccups and sobs leave the smaller turtle, his babbling quieted by the hand on his shell and soft words from his brother.

There's a long moment of Lee just holding Angelo, standing in the middle of the lair. But eventually, Lee leans away a bit to look down at the box turtle. "Hey.. let's get you to bed, ok? We can.. talk about this later. When you're not… like this."

Angelo just sniffles, nodding against Lee's chest. The slider bends down to pick up that orange hoodie, then gives Angelo a pat on the shell. He guides his wobbly brother to his train car, trying to be as gentle as he can as he nudges Angelo into bed. The box turtle feels so heavy with exhaustion, sighing as he finally lays down under his soft sheets.

Lee tucks his little brother in. As he goes to stand, he feels a tug on his shirt. "Stay.. please.."

He gives Angelo a small nod, and sits back down at the edge of his bed. "Yeah.. ok."

He watches as Angelo easily gets comfortable and very quickly falls asleep. After a long moment of silence, he looks over at the doorway, seeing their other two brothers standing there. Tello has his arms crossed, and Raphie needs to bend over to even see inside. They all share an expression.

"...We can talk in the kitchen."

[wilddogz]

Introduction!!!!

Hello and welcome to the wilddogz blog! This is an RP blog with the future and present feral au turtles! This post is something to help get people in the know of what is going on here :)

We have...

Raph! Eldest of the present feral turtles. He is 23 canonically and his tag is #raph txt

Red! Eldest of the future feral turtles. He is 36 canonically and his tag is #red txt

Their nickname(s) for MC (Reader) are "Lamb/Little Lamb"

Donnie! Second oldest of the present turtles and the older twin to Leo. He is 22 canonically and his tag is #donnie txt

Purple! Second oldest of the future feral turtles and the older twin to Blue. He is 35 canonically and his tag is #purple txt

Their nickname(s) for MC (Reader) are "Starlight"

Leo! Third oldest of the present turtles and younger twin to Donnie. He is 22 canonically and his tag is #leo txt

Blue! Third oldest of the future feral turtles and the younger twin to Purple. He is 35 canonically and his tag is #blue txt

Their nickname(s) for MC (Reader) are "Dove/Songbird"

Mikey! Youngest of the present turtles. He is 21 canonically and his tag is #mikey txt

Orange! Youngest of the future feral turtles. He is 34 canonically and his tag is #orange txt

Their nickname(s) for MC (Reader) are "Sunshine/Sunflower and Honeybee"

And finally... MC! They don't show up often and not much is known about them, but they will make an appearance from time to time to make sure the turtles aren't causing any trouble >:). Their tag is #MC txt

#narrator txt means that a post or answer to an ask is OOC!

More to be added as time goes on!

[daddyn3xus]

what if I like... made a traditional rp blog for Lee.... like the ones where you use "" and ** and asks would be responded to like you're in the same room and not just talking over the internet.....

I miss having blogs like that fjhsdjgdsfhsd yall could ACTUALLY fuck Lee!! fhjdvgdsfs

[bestmutt]

Unless what??

I mean....... Money.

[vega-482]

Kevan Brighting's opinion on voice AI

You've probably already seen this screenshot of an email of Kevan's opinion on AI generated audios

YES it's the real Kevan Brighting

However I'll explain the full context in this post and how we got this email

[warning for brief NSFW mention]

We obtained it thanks to @/shinakazami1 who asked him directly!

Ok so, since someone from a TSP discord server I'm in posted a NSFW AI generated audio of the Narrator, and someone else pointed out it wasn't ok to feed Kevan's voice to an AI and using it for making NSFW content without his consent, I wanted to know about his opinion on the matter but I was too coward to ask myself

But Shina had previously said she could ask Kevan directly if we wanted to commission him but didn't want to ask directly, so I told her if she could ask Kevan directly about his opinion on the matter, I wanted to ask specifically about the NSFW AI audios, but she decided to ask him about AI generated audios in general, and she'll ask him about NSFW voice commissions and other NSFW matters later

And that's basically how she got his opinion about AI generated audios

So the best thing we can and should do as a fandom is respecting him and his work, as well as his opinion on the matter and stop doing AI generated audios with his voice since he doesn't agree with it

[croh3]

malevolent dating sim. you play as arthur and try to romance all the eldritch beings that are whipped for you (john, yellow, kiy, kayne, mr scratch, collins). in the bad endings they kill you

[loveofastarvingdog]

HOW IT FEELS TO BE KNUCKLE-DEEP — timothy l.l.s.h.

anyone else always thinking about the unspeakable hunger, my best friend, the unspeakable hunger.....

my poetry tag list (ask to be added or removed) @gracekisses @callcenterkilljoy @icantleave @hauntedpearl @chaosnatural @raytoroinmybackpack @carveredlund @pinknatural @obsessionofspn @destielgaysex @faithdeans @heartshapedcas @howldean @redwinesupernova @cosmosinfinity23 @impala67-aka-baby @samsrowena @aturnoftheearth @themichaelvan @casbeeminestiel @notreallyaroad @frogstiel @magdaclaire @agonynatural @superhell @honkytonkdyke @how-the-feathers-have-fallen @earthpit @raspberryfemme @patchesofwork @wolfinmyribcage @ididit-allofit-foryou @moderngirlmp3 @saybiwithme

[mimisquids]

Chemical burns as a metaphor for love

[pigeonpalacade]

Having actual discussions with teachers about fight club is kind of crazy to me because I forget that it's not this niche little tumblr fandom that I've settled into but is actually a widely popular movie featuring extremely well known actor Brad Pitt

[madmutts]

A Drive Home: Lapse Arc.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

Angelo stumbles out of the bar bathroom, bandana clenched in his fist. God, his hair’s a mess. He rubs his wrist against his mouth with an irritated grunt– one step at a time, Angie, he hears mind Raph echo. “Oh shut up,” he murmurs.

“Angel?”

Buh..? As the box turtle steps forward, his snout makes contact with weighty fabric and fur. He looks up- woah. This dude’s tallll. Mumbling out an apology, Angie tries to scoot around, but the yokai blocks him. A deep, husky voice enters his ears. Not in a screechy, painful way, but with flow: like a nice shot of shitty ass whiskey.

“You haven’t been ‘round in a while,” the man says. “I thought you went sober or somethin'.”

Blinking blearily up at the yokai, he takes a look at the face that seemed to know his own. Oh– it’s the hyena bartender. Crud. He stammers a little, a small embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks. “I-I- uh.. I don’t- you know, I just-..." 

‘Bartender Guy’ raises a brow at Angelo, who stands there wobbling and shuffling in his spot. Mikey only barely registers his sigh. The bartender places a hand on the turtle's shoulder. "Look, I get it. I see this kinda thing happen all the time. Those guys? Your friends? They're drunks, man. And when you hang out with drunks, you gotta also get drunk."

Angelo stares down and clutches his hands into loose fists. Ah yes, shoes. How interesting, mmhm. He blinks rapidly as he feels the sting of tears, and his lips wobble. The turtle takes in a shaky breath, raising a fist to scrub at his eyes. “I’m tryin.. I’m tryna b-be better, I s-swear..”

The hyena grimaces, his hand leaving Angelo's shoulder. "Oh- no. I didn't mean-" He sighs again, glancing away for a moment. The bartender opens his jaws to speak, but he's cut off by the turtle. 

"I don't- I dunno why I'm h-here.." Angelo hiccups in between his words, his speech slurring from how wasted he'd gotten, "I shouldn't ha-have.. come here… I'm so stu-stupid. I jus.. I jus wanted friends.."  

Bartender Guy purses his lips, "Hey, no, you're not stupid-" Angelo whines, cutting him off again. "Noo..! They're gonna be so- so mad at me..!"

"Who? Your friends?" 

"No! My brothers! I promise.. promised! I wouldn't dri-.. drink anymore..! They're gonna hate me… Buh-" Angelo stumbles a little, a hand shooting up to stabilize himself against the wall. Then he leans against the bartender, hiding his embarrassed, flushed, and tearful face in that nice, clean button-up. Bartender Guy stares down at Angelo for a moment, his hand landing on top of the turtle's head. He then looks away, around the corner to the bar where Angelo's so-called 'friends' laughed and drank. 

"I jus wanna go home…" Muffled against his shirt, Angelo mumbles, sniffling quietly. A moment passes before there's a gentle pat on Angelo's head, and the bartender whispers down to him. "Hey.. How ‘bout I drive you home? I’m supposed to be clocking out soon anyway.”

Angelo wobbles a little as he leans back to look up at him, "But.. the guys..-" "Don't worry about them, I’ll handle it."

The turtle stares up at him for a second, before sniffling with a slight nod as he rubs his eyes again. The bartender gives him a small sympathetic nod and a pat on the shoulder. Angelo sways a bit as he makes his way to the door, then sits on the steps leading out to the street. 

Sitting in the cool and calmer air of the Hidden City, Angelo attempts to take a deep breath. With a whimper, he crosses his arms over his knees and rests his head on them. In his hand still rests the mask he usually ties his hair up with, his thumb idly rubbing the fabric.

He was so stupid. He knew he made a promise, and he broke it anyway. He broke it anyway.. Stupid, stupid promises. “Stupid, st-stupid Angelo.”

Angelo closes his eyes, letting his mind be carried by the quiet sensations of the city night. Though it still bustled, it was still much quieter than the streets of Manhattan. Quieter than the screams of war and fallen angels.

He likes the quiet.

A gentle pat lays itself on his backside. One eye opens lazily towards Bartender Guy. “I’m back,” he says. He left? “Your pals said bye, and that they hope you get home safe.”

Angelo hums, feeling slightly better. At least for the meantime. “Mmmm.. I suppose that dep-pendss on you, Mister.”

Bartender Guy huffs out a laugh– after so long, he was already used to his ex-regular’s behavior. “Yessir. Now- let’s get ya home.”

He helps Angelo up, letting the shorter man lean on his figure all the way to the car. It’s nothing grand, being your average five-person vehicle. Comfy. Sliding right into shotgun, he sinks into the cool leather, head tipped back. He weakly blows at the threads of hair sticking to his blushed cheeks. 

As the sound of the driver seat’s door closing and the engine revving up fills his ears, he yanks at his sleeves, hoping to relieve himself from the heat of his hoodie. His impaired motor skills prove the act to be a struggle, the hoodie latching on too snuggly on his shell.

The hyena glances over to his passenger while backing onto the road. “Do you.. Need help?”

Angelo growls. Bartender Guy raises his free hand in playful surrender. By the time the hoodie successfully plops off his form and onto his lap, the two yokai were freely riding down Hidden City streets.

Angelo’s head buzzes, his bartender friend’s words coming out as static. He pulls out his phone in a daze. There on his screen were multiple notifications of people worrying over him... Maybe he should update on his location? That’s what a sober person does he thinks. 

With two hands, the turtle navigates his way through his disorganized phone to his camera, taking a photo of the car and his lap. Click. He wasn’t sure if it was the car shaking or his hands shaking, but either way, the picture came out good enough. The blurry lights outside looked pretty– like strokes from a painting.

His eyes still fixated on the phone’s camera, he tilts it to his left, towards the driver. Through the lens of the camera, Angelo watches his relaxed form, his eyes calmly looking at the road ahead. He was… huh. The car slows down as it reaches a stoplight.

Click.

Bartender Guy, to Angelo’s surprise, glances over to the phone, noticing the photo taken. Angelo’s fixation on the phone breaks, and he glances up to the Bartender Guy– at the same time, Bartender Guy looks up at him as well. They stare at each other.

The bartender gives a bashful smile. “Um.. What are you doing?”

Angelo, for the second time that night, looks away embarrassed. He quickly goes to hide the phone, which results in the cell laying sweetly on the car floor. “What are.. you, doin, huh?” he retorts.

The man wiggles his fingers on the wheel. “Driving?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Dang, I’ve done been got.”

Angelo smiles, quietly laughing to himself. His smile lasts only for a moment though, as he gazes down at his mask. His brothers fill his thoughts again.

He murmurs, “Stupid, stupid Angelo.”

“..Don’t call yourself that.”

Angelo’s eyes widen. He hadn’t expected the man to hear that. He turns his head towards Bartender Guy, whose eyes were back on the road but had a firm frown. Oh.. Did he make him upset? “I’m s orry..”

He shakes his head. “The only one you gotta feel sorry for is yourself, man.”

The turtle furrows his eyebrows. No, but that’s not right.. “No.. not, not right..”

“Not. Right?”

“Not right.” His head tips up and down. “I broke.. A promise.”

“Angel-”

“Angels don’t break promises.” He looks at his hands, tracing the phantom cracks. “Misstter.”

Bartender Guy goes quiet, letting Angelo ramble. The turtle continues.

“Angelsss.. are supposed to be good! Unstoppable forces! Nooo flaws or weird kinda-demon possessions or deep unress-solvved issues. Whatsoever!” His hands nonsensically flap in the air. 

“I’m s’pposed to be an angel, y’know? Comes in the name. In the jobbb. In the war. Not that you know anythin’ bout the war, haha. I dunno if anyone I even know here died or survived then.” A part of him knew he shouldn’t even be talking about the war, but no part of him was thinking straight right about now. “But no! No good at savin’ anyone. Not then, not now. No good at keepin’ prommies.”

He lets out a pitiful laugh. “No good at not getting wasted.”

Angelo pulls his legs up to his chest, letting the fabric of his hoodie squish between his thighs and plastron. “Imm no angel. No good at bein’ a brother either. I’m just.. Nothin’.”

Silence begets the two. Bartender Guy stares straight ahead, quietly processing the information given. As he moves the turn signal though, he speaks up. “No, you’re not.”

A pause.

“Huh?” Angelo blinks slowly in confusion.

He sighs. “You’re not nothing– I think you’re wrong.”

Flares of anger hiccuped from the back of Angelo’s throat. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe not.”

“..What?”

The bartender turns the wheel. “Sure– maybe I don’t know you. I don’t even understand like. Half of what you just said right now honestly. 

“But I want to. I want to know you, your story. Your family. Anything you’re willing to.”

For a short moment, Angelo stares into Haida’s eyes– trying to understand. “..Why?”

He shrugs. “Because you’re cool?”

Angelo frowns and touches the surface of his skin. “No, I’m not.”

“Funny too. And– I dunno. You can be fun.”

“I drunk cry like, all the time-”

“Believe me when I say I’ve dealt with worse.” He slows down before reaching his point. “Listen, like. I may not know you, but I do remember you. And I don’t think you give yourself enough credit bud.”

Angelo’s lip trembles. “..What does it matter? My bros are gonna.. gonna hate me,” he repeats.

They finally reach their stop: Run of the Mill. Bartender Guy sets the gear shift to park before leaning back and turning to Angelo with a smile. His teeth stuck out, but it didn’t make it threatening: rather, the smile was soft. “No, I don’t think so. No one can hate you.”

Angelo sits, stunned. The bartender, after exiting the vehicle, goes around and helps him out of the car, grabbing his phone from the floor along the way. “You remember what to do, right?” He asks. “Call Hueso, portal back?” Pushing away the weird feeling rising in his stomach, Angelo shakily nods.

He secures his hoodie and mask in his arms and stares up at his driver. “I guess, um… This is goodbye?”

Bartender Guy types something on Angelo’s phone before handing it back. “Reckon so. I guess the next time we meet, it won’t be back in the bar, eh?”

Angelo flinches and looks down. He fiddles with the fabric of his hoodie sleeves. “I dun.. I d-dunno if I can.. prommise that.”

He shakes his head.”You don’t have to.” He smiles as he hops back in the car, this time with full sets of teeth– the trademark of a hyena. “I believe in you. And I think that’s more than nothin’.”

And with the wave of an arm, Bartender Guy drives away. Angelo stares off at the friendly stranger– well. Maybe friend? He’s not sure anymore. He looks down at his phone, curious as to what the bartender had typed.

Huh. It was a contact number.

“..Haida.”

[daddyn3xus]

Ok guys I am this close 🤏 to making characters for sunflower and moon anon just so I can draw Lee fucking them, whatcha think

[bestmutt]

do u have a dni list ? :)

Uhh ig not? I don't got beef with anyone

That might change tho.

[narrator-kun]

i think one of my favorite things about the svsss fandom is the plots we make up and blame on qinghua the amount of numbered wives i have read with ridiculously specific plotlines (that sqq remembers by heart!??!?!?!?) that are followed up with "wow, great job sqh" its the funniest thing ever

[leblancsvoleur]

It's really funny how in the first story, Arsène Lupin is presented to the audience like some force of nature, a creature of the night. His name was first revealed in midst of a violent storm at sea, then the message was cut off by a literal lightning strike like some horror movie. (There's also a bit of Poseidon imagery that connects to 813 here, if you squint.)

The information that the ship was infiltrated was meant to be kept secret among the crew, but oh oops, it somehow slipped and now the entire ship knows. How mysterious. Most importantly, the passengers of this steamship were full of the wealthy middle and upper class. Lupin was said to be amongst them, in the first class cabins, and they were terrified at the thought of him.

Oh, Lupin was seen nowhere near the scene of the crime? Well, obviously "a man like Arsène Lupin could commit a crime without being actually present." He can straight up walk through walls and be in two places at once, apparently!

Then there's this line where it describes how he picked the most valuable stones from the jewellery, "like flowers from which the beautiful colored petals had been ruthlessly plucked." Like, holy shit, Arsène Lupin the Evil Flower Plucker.

He's the rich people's boogeyman. They're convinced that he can do anything, like a supernatural presence that stalks them, the monster that hides under their beds.

[orange-coloredsky]

idk if i ever have gone on this tangent but dima's actions on the island are a smaller scale replica of the sole survivor's actions in the commonwealth and -- (a glowing red dot appears between my eyebrows)

[pigeonpalacade]

I think there should be more fight club college aus out there... we know they both went and I just think it'd be funny