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insomniac4000 · 5 months ago

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Useless Hotline Crush- George Clarke

George Clarkeey adjusted his headset, a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling under his usual confident exterior. Across from him, Max Balegde lounged in his chair, grinning mischievously as he scrolled through the show notes for this week’s episode of The Useless Hotline.

Their guest? None other than Y/N, a rising star in the YouTube and TikTok world, whose hilarious skits and uncanny impressions had skyrocketed her to internet fame. George had mentioned her more than a few times on the podcast, enough for the listeners to pick up on his admiration and maybe a little more. The speculations of a crush had been building for weeks, and now, she was about to be sitting across from him. George was feeling the full weight of their playful teasing, he knew that Max was not going to let him off easy either and it started just how George had expected.

“Alright, George,” Max said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Are you ready to meet your favorite internet sensation?”

“Oh, shut up,” George muttered, but his cheeks turned pink.

Max laughed and leaned into the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome to the incredibly talented, ridiculously funny, and dare I say, George-approved Y/N!”

The studio door opened, and Y/N walked in with a big smile, waving at the cameras and settling into the guest seat. “Thanks for having me! Big fan of the show.”

“Big fan of you,” George blurted out before his brain could catch up. Max stifled a laugh as George’s face turned beet red. “I mean, uh, your videos. Big fan of your videos. Let’s get you a drink, I know I could do with one.

Y/N’s laugh was warm and genuine, easing some of George’s nerves. “Well, I’m flattered. And honestly, George, you’re pretty funny yourself. Your impression of that influencer with the fake apology? Iconic.”

“Oh, thank you,” George said, his voice slightly higher than usual. “Coming from the queen of impressions, that means a lot.”

Max raised an eyebrow at the exchange, his grin widening. “Alright, enough flirting. Let’s get into it. Y/N, how did you get started making content?”

Y/N leaned forward slightly, her enthusiasm shining through. “Honestly, it started as a bit of a joke. I was in uni, absolutely broke, and my friends and I would mess around making little videos. One day, I did an impression of our lecturer that was so spot-on, they dared me to post it. I did, and somehow it blew up. From there it just kind of snowballed really.”

“Snowballed is an understatement,” Max said. “You’ve got millions of followers now. What do you think sets your content apart?”

“I think it’s a mix of things,” Y/N replied thoughtfully. “I try to keep my humour relatable, you know? Like, we’ve all been in awkward situations or dealt with people who are… let’s say, a bit much. And I love poking fun at those universal experiences. Plus, I’m a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my skits. I’ll redo them a hundred times if I have to, no one needs to see the hours of footage on the cutting room floor,” she laughed.

“That’s dedication,” George said, his admiration clear. “Do you ever feel pressure to keep topping yourself?”

“Absolutely,” Y/N admitted. “It’s easy to get caught up in the numbers and the pressure to go viral. But I try to remind myself why I started was to make people laugh. As long as I’m doing that, I’m happy.”

“Speaking of laughs,” Max interjected, “we’ve got to talk about your impressions. They’re uncanny. Do you have a favourite one?”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, that’s a tough one. I think my favourite changes depending on my mood. But people seem to love my impression of the overly peppy yoga instructor.”

“Can we get a little sample?” George asked, leaning forward eagerly, he knew exactly what she was talking about but it was for the sake of the audience who hadn’t seen anything, plus there was a part of him that was really excited to see her stuff in person.

“Alright, but don’t judge me,” Y/N said, slipping effortlessly into character. She clasped her hands in front of her chest and adopted an overly serene tone. “Okay, everyone, let’s just breathe out the negative vibes despite your life falling apart and breathe in the overpriced smoothie and retreat I’m about to sell you which you will definitely need after this.”

George and Max burst into laughter, George clapping his hands together. “That’s brilliant. Honestly, you’ve got the tone and everything down perfectly.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, laughing along with them. “It’s one of my go-to’s because it’s just so fun to exaggerate. Anyway how do you know how perfect it is? I didn’t have you down as a yoga expert.” George’s face then went red.

“Alright, George,” Max said, turning to him with a wicked grin. “Your turn. Do an impression.”

George groaned, though the smile on his face suggested he didn’t mind. “Fine. I’ll do my influencer apology.” He cleared his throat and put on an exaggeratedly solemn expression. “Hi, guys. I’ve made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment. I’m here to take accountability, even though I don’t really mean it. Please don’t cancel me, because I’ve got a brand deal coming up.”

Y/N was practically doubled over with laughter. “That is terrifyingly accurate. The pause before ‘accountability’ was perfect.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” George said with a wink. “What about you, Y/N? Have you ever had to make an apology video?”

“Thankfully, no,” she said, shaking her head. “But now that you’ve done that impression, I’m kind of tempted to make a parody one. Just in case I ever need it, you know?”

“We’ll co-write it,” George offered. “Guaranteed viral hit.”

Max leaned back, watching the exchange with a knowing smirk. “You two are dangerous together. I can see it now: Y/N and George take over TikTok. The internet won’t know what hit it.”

Y/N laughed. “Hey, I’m down. As long as George can keep up with my filming schedule.”

“Oh, I’m ready,” George said, his confidence returning. “Let’s make it happen.”

The rest of the interview flew by, covering everything from Y/N’s dream collaborations to her favourite TikTok trends. By the time they wrapped up, the chemistry between her and George was undeniable, leaving Max plenty of material for teasing in future episodes.

As Y/N said her goodbyes and left the studio, Max turned to George with a sly look. “Mate, you’re not even subtle.”

“Shut up,” George mumbled, but the grin on his face was undeniable.

The comments had noticed too;

Did anyone else notice how George kept stuttering a little at the beginning like he was nervous?

George finally got his dream guest!!

So we’re all in agreement that George is smitten, right? Can we make this a thing? Because I need them to collab again ASAP!

Max teasing George is literally the only reason I’m still alive. But honestly, George’s soft spot for Y/N is kind of sweet.

Two weeks later, the studio buzzed with the usual pre-show chaos. Today’s episode was one the listeners had been eagerly anticipating: a lie detector test. George and Max had hyped it up for days, promising spicy questions and no holds barred.

As the machine was set up and the cameras rolled, Max rubbed his hands together. “Alright, George, are you ready to expose your deepest, darkest secrets?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” George said, settling into the chair and strapping on the sensors.

The first few questions were tame. Max asked if George had ever stolen anything (“Yes,” and he passed), if he’d ever lied to a guest (“No,” and he passed), and if he thought Max was the funnier host (“No,” and he failed, prompting uproarious laughter).

Then came the question that made George’s stomach flip.

“Have you ever kissed a guest on this podcast?” Max asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

George’s answer was immediate. “No.” The machine’s green light confirmed the truth, and George exhaled in relief.

Max wasn’t done. “Do you want to kiss any guest?”

George froze, his mind racing. He forced a laugh, trying to play it cool. “No.”

The machine’s red light flashed.

Max’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his chair, howling with laughter. “Oh my God, George! Who is it? Who do you want to kiss?”

George shook his head, his face burning. “I’m not saying anything. Next question.”

“You’re no fun,” Max teased, but the damage was done. The comments section exploded when the episode went live.

"It’s obviously Y/N. The way he acted when she was on the podcast? Dead giveaway."

"George, we’re onto you, mate. Just admit it already!"

"Max, bring Y/N back and grill George in real time. We need answers!"

George tried to ignore the speculation, but it was impossible to miss. And as much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N’s smile, her laugh, the way she’d lit up the studio. Maybe…just maybe, the comments weren’t entirely wrong.

There had been a couple of messages swapped here and there since the podcast appearance but nothing else, the way Max, Chris and Arthur were going on about it you would have thought they were getting married, but a few messages was more than George was ever expecting.

What he wasn’t expecting however was a message from her when the episode went live.

“Who’s this guy you want to kiss? It’s Isaac isn’t it?” The message teased.

“Why, jealous?” George’s heart thumped in his chest as he sent the response, he was getting really bold now, hopefully it wouldn’t scare her off. He stared at his phone for a while and his heart started beating fast as instead of a message his phone started to ring, why was she calling him? He glanced at the screen and froze for a moment before answering. “Y/N! Hey.”

“Hey, George,” Y/N said, her voice light. “My notifications have been blowing up with people tagging me in the comments of that video and the other one still asking for that collab. I know we mentioned it briefly but I was wondering if you were up for it and maybe we could plan something?

George perked up. “I think it’s a great idea. Your skits and impressions are amazing—I’d love to work on something with you.”

“Awesome. Maybe we could brainstorm some ideas together?”

“Yeah, for sure,” George said. “How about lunch sometime this week?”

There was a brief pause before Y/N replied, her tone teasing. “Lunch sounds nice, but how about dinner instead? You know, make it more of a proper meeting.”

George’s heart skipped a beat. “Dinner works too,” he said, trying to sound casual. “When are you free?”

“Friday night?” Y/N suggested.

“Perfect,” George said, his excitement barely contained. “I’ll text you the details.”

As they ended the call, George couldn’t stop grinning. Max would never let him hear the end of this, let alone Chris or either of the Arthur’s but for once, he didn’t mind.

#george clarke x reader #george clarkey #george clarke #george clarke imagine

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terraswallows · 1 month ago

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Diary of an Awkward trans-girl : Day 4

Dear Diary,

It was a slow day at work today. One of those draggy, quiet ones where your thoughts get too loud, and the weight of pretending starts pressing a little too hard on your chest. I could feel it building—that gnawing kind of exhaustion that comes from putting up “the act,” from softening yourself, from folding your edges in just to make it through the day.

And then, out of nowhere, a memory.

An old video I’d seen years ago. Abigail Thorn’s coming out episode on Philosophy Tube. I don’t even know what triggered it, but I remembered a comment someone had made on one of my posts, how I was going through something similar. A transition. A becoming. A growth that mirrored hers in a quiet, aching way.

So, like the sentimental nerd I am, I rewatched it.

Gods, diary. It hit me like a freight train of feelings I’d tucked away for far too long.

Every word, every breath she took—it cracked something open in me. I remembered how I felt the first time I watched it—how it nestled into the corners of my heart like it had always belonged there. But this time… it was even deeper. Rawer. Louder. More me.

I teared up. Right there at work. Eyes glassy, heart trembling. And of course, my boss noticed—asked what was wrong. I didn’t have the words for it, not really. How do you explain that you're crying because someone else’s story reached across time and memory to remind you of your own? That you're crying not out of sadness, but because something true found you again?

I hadn’t felt like that in so long.

And you know what?

It felt good. To feel. To not numb it out. To remember who I am, and why I started all of this in the first place. To realize that I’m not alone, that I never was. That there are voices out there—like Abigail’s—that echo mine, even on the days I can’t find it myself.

So thank you, world, or fate, or whoever whispered that memory back into me today. And thank you, Abigail, for speaking a truth that still holds me years later.

And… thank you, for listening.

#trans #trans community #transgender #mtf trans #transfem #trans woman #transgirl #lgbtq #lgbtqia

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dvchvnde · 9 months ago

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excerpt; best friend's dad | John Price x Reader infidelity. age gap.

He breaks your heart in Greece. Cuts a jagged line down your middle. Spills your wet, sticky blood over the Naxian marble outside of the Temple of Apollo with just a handful of words.

(fitting, you find: you've always considered your aimless pursuit to his heart some bastardised delusion akin to Icarus chasing the immovable sun—)

And you suppose it's kind. Or as gentle as a man like him could ever let himself be. Still gruff, surly. But you've always loved the sound of his voice, haven't you? That sarky growl reminding you of classic muscle cars, American-made; the low, gritty purr of an old Mustang. Enough to make you shiver, even as he's shaping it around these awful, cutting words. It makes you heart flutter, enraptured as he speaks like he's ripping a bandaid off.

Except that now that wound is being filled with salt. Acid. Cauterising itself from the friction burn when the gauze is wrenched off your skin. A permanent scar right in your sternum. A gaping hole spilling all the ugliness out. You wonder if he cares that it's being slashed across his shoes—no sandals, he griped when you teased him in the airport; I hate the feelin' of sand between my toes—that this madness inside of you is finding a home on the hot pavement, rotting under the summer's sun.

"m'thinkin' about marryin' her."

The her in question is ten years older than him. Pettily, you wonder if this is to compensate for the fact that he's nearly two decades older than you. An obscene age gap, you know. But—

It's Price.

Your best friend's dad. The man you've been in love with since you were sixteen. Falling all over yourself after a dumb boy broke your heart, and he offered to drive you home, silent the whole way there before he stopped, a block away from your house, and told you that boys weren't worth your time. Boys. Boys—

Not men.

Foolishly, you let yourself hope. Let yourself become the very thing they talk about in TikTok videos lambasting age gaps and silly little girls who let older men run them into the ground. Why would a man his age have any reason to be interested in a girl yours? Sickening. Disgusting. You're being lead stray, groomed. But you clung to it still, even as you thumbed through the comments on those videos and found pieces of yourself lying among the rubble.

You've always known what they say about girls like that. And you were just delusional enough to believe that you were different somehow.

And now—

"Gettin' older," he grouses out, and you wonder if she finds the ornery lilt to his cadence as comforting as you do. Or if it rubs her all the wrong ways. "Might be time to settle down."

Shamefully, you wish he'd say, but maybe you can convince me otherwise, climb into my lap, and eat this decision from between my teeth until all I see when I open my eyes is you.

But that's not the John Price you know. Mr Price. Single dad. Widower. Untouchable.

Mr Price who sees you for what you are—smarter than them, he'd said when you broke down in his Bronco after a softball game where everyone, your best friend included, went to an afterparty that no one invited you to.

Quiet, thoughtful, even when you spent the evening afterwards (the fight hashed out between your best friend and you; i'm so sorry and me too) thumbing through old vinyl records he kept in his basement, listening to the classics that kids your age just didn't understand, so why the fuck do you?

Weekends spent bonding over golden cinema (movies just ain't what they used to be; there's no romance anymore, it's all so—vapid; you don't talk like a kid; i've never considered myself one, do you? he didn't answer. you didn't expect him to). Listening to music older than your dad. Niche jokes and texts that read like I saw this and thought of you.

Your fault, of course, for thinking you could trick him into loving you if you played your feelings through Johnny Cash, Vashti Bunyan, Fleetwood Mac, and Smokey Robinson. An impossibility you know now.

Mr Price who knows you. Who sees through the thin skin you wear and into the heart, the core of you. Who must have known since you called him in the pouring rain to pick you up when you got too drunk to drive home. A house party in the suburbs. Waterlogged flats he told you to toss.

Said nothing at all when you apologised with your head pressed against the foggy glass. You never told him that your sorry, Mr Price was for kissing a boy and wishing it was him.

But he must have known.

open book. pages spilling out. silly little girl with your heart cupped in your palm—

So he knows. Has known. Hindsight says this is him letting you down gently before you get any ideas about forever with your diploma tucked into your chest like a shield. A trip to Greece with your best friend and her dad to celebrate the rest of your life looming over you like a thundercloud. Your eye slanting sideways, glancing yearningly back at him.

sorry, but no. look the other way—

And you think fine, fine, whatever, so long as this doesn't hurt anymore—but what comes out is, "oh."

What follows is this:

He says he's thinking about marrying her with his hands tucked tight under his arms. He tells you he wants to settle down with his chin tucked against his chest, four lines rucked across the pinch of his brow. An emphasis, perhaps, on just how serious he is.

You taste salt in your throat. Sand between your toes. The sun blisters against the thin straps of this pretty blue dress that match the melting sapphire of his burning gaze. It's heatsickness, maybe. Or just all the years of want building and building, festering and growing, until it can't climb any higher—forever reaching for god that won't spare you a glance—and—

falling down around you. wings of beeswax and bird feathers.

Solemn, he says, "it's what I should do."

(i saw this and thought of you—)

Your fingers knot into the soft cotton of his dress shirt, pulling the fabric taut between your knuckles until it peels back from the seams, curling between buttons.

You've had too much to drink. Whiskey sour. Scotch neat. Somewhere along the walk to the temple, you snatched a puff of his cigar, the nicotine blooming between your teeth. Head full of cotton too thick for you to think. To retreat.

In the morning, when he refuses to look at you, you'll blame it on the drinks. On the sun. On being young and dumb and untouchable under the Greecian sky.

Daddy issues, you can shrug. You have the diagnoses from every single TikTok psychologist embedded between your teeth. See, mine never loved me and now I'm taking it out on you—

But right now, you kiss him.

Or maybe—

Maybe he kisses you.

It's a mess in your head. Everything turned upside down, all askew because when your lips touch his, he shudders. His chest rumbles under your fingers, expanding with the sudden inhale as he breathes you in. Deep. Takes you into his lungs—all salt-slick, and sunburnt—and groans low in his throat, all want. All heat.

He should push you away. He's your best friend's father. Two decades older than you. Dating another woman who's so far removed from the person you are that she might as well be a different species. Mature. Stoic. Poised. Graceful.

The perfect antithesis to you.

Everything about this must be ringing shrill in his ears: abort, abort, do not engage. He should push you off.

And he does.

After a moment of your greedy, unpractised kisses pepper along the bristles hanging low over his lips, he makes another sound. Angry. Whitehot. His hands slip free from the damp prison of his armpits and latch tight onto you. Thick, hirsute fingers curling over your upper arms, and pushing, shoving—

Your back hits the marble pillar. The air in your lungs punched out.

But when you try to siphon more balmy air into them again, you find an obstacle in your way.

His mouth.

Searing, blistering. Slanting hungrily across yours, devouring. Intense, dizzying. Your head cracks against the wall when he shoves his thigh between the silken softness of your inner thighs, blanketed by the dress that made him swallow when he first saw you in it, eyes darkening like a storm.

(bit short, ain't it? he'd groused, and your friend slipped her hand into yours with a huff. stop being such a dad, dad—)

It slots there now like it's owed the right. Thick thigh spreading yours apart on a gasp, a groan. Corded muscle pressed taut to the seam of you that burns hot. Melted wax. Dripping against his leg. He must feel the way he liquifies you, turns you into putty. It drags a sound his chest. The misfire of an engine.

"Fuck," he breathes, all teeth. Salt. He should be saying, no, stop. go back to your hotel room, and we'll pretend this never happened, silly girl. But he pulls you closer instead, his hand looping around to cradle the back of your tender head in the cup of his palm. A small comfort as he delves his tongue between your teeth. "Makin' me lose my goddamn mind—"

The words are growled against your mouth. You taste the tobacco-smoked fury between his teeth when they sink into your lower lip. Angry, maybe, that you're making him do this. That you had to be who you are, and despite that, he kisses you like you're not.

"Price," you whine, arching into his chest when he pulls at your bottom lip still caught between his teeth. Skin tender, bruised. He ruts into you at the sound, nearly purring. You feel it then. The hard press of his thickening cock against you. Mindlessly gyrating against your hip. The turgid length proof of his desire. His want for you. All you. "Please—"

He folds himself over you. Tucks you into the bracket of his chest, his arms. His fingers are iron bars on your skin, holding you tight to him. Unwilling to let go. His hand on your crown; his fingers gripping your thigh, hiking it up his waist. It's good. Better than all of your meagre fantasies combined. You've wanted this since you knew what want was. When he wandered into the kitchen the morning after a sleepover with a towel slung loose around his hips, his hand scrubbing the damness from the wet tangle of his hair, spilling them down his neck where they disappeared into the thick bed of hair on his chest, his belly.

He paused in the doorway when he saw you sitting at the island, eyes wide and drilling holes into his chest.

"Shit," he'd cussed, gruff and mean with sleep. "Didn't think—"

But you did. Over and over again. With your face pressed against your pillow, fingers shoved into the sticky wetness leaking out of your cunt. Thinking of him. Wrong. Wrong. Terrible—

Dad bod, your friend said with a cluck of her tongue that afternoon. And you feel it under your fists as he heaves. As he eats you alive, whole. Because kissing John Price, Mr Price, is a whirlwind. A maelstrom.

He devours. He conquers. He owns.

He licks into your mouth, petting over your tongue, your teeth, until you can't remember anything else except the tobacco and whiskey tang of him. Heady. An elixir you want to sip from for the rest of your life. Damn him—

He tells you he's thinking about marrying someone else. Then whispers, ash-soft, against your chin that he can't get enough of you.

Grunts, "you need to go," as he sinks his teeth down, hard, into the throbbing skin of your pulse. Laying claim as he slowly comes to.

The coarse hair of his beard rubs your flesh raw when he buries his face into your neck. You can feel the thunder of his heart against the knob of your wrist. The heat of his skin burning through you.

"Fuck," he rumbles again, and you know this time it's for good. Ironclad. But the remorse is paperthin. "Shouldn't have done that, should have—"

"I want you," you whisper through bruised, kiss-bitten lips. "I want you so bad. I loved you since I was—"

"Don't."

The sweat beading along his hairline smears across the naked arch of your shoulder and neck when he moves; a shallow shake of his head. Muted and small. Heavy with reluctance.

The man who meets you when he pulls back is frowning with wet, red-stained lips. His eyes are hardened sapphire reinforced with unbreakable obsidian. There's no inch to move. No cracks to squeeze through.

"This—" he swallows. You hope he tastes you still. Whiskey sour. Scotch neat. The drag of his cigar, the one he coached you through, scoffing when you choked, when you cough. You hope he runs his tongue over his teeth and tastes nothing but you. "This shouldn't have happened."

You don't say anything. Can't. The words are staining his lips.

You nod, slow. Cautious. He tells you he's marrying someone else. Thinking about it. Says this shouldn't have happened—

But he holds you like he can't bring himself to let go. Fingers clutching, clenching tight around you. Possessive. Greedy, even he as he slowly unspools from around you. As he pulls away, scouring his hand down his face with a deep, ragged inhale. Rough, worn fingers digging into his jaw until the knuckles under a dense cropping of umber hair turn white, nails pinking under the strain.

"This isn't—"

You nod again. Soft and slow, but you let your tongue flicker out, chasing the smoke drying on your swollen lips. It stings. The burn makes you think of him. Of his hot, heavy hands on your skin.

His eyes drop down to follow the slip of red that teases out between your teeth, blackening as they trace the new wetness left behind. You can feel him twitch against your thigh.

Your name is a broken snarl trapped in the thick of his throat. You've never heard it like that. Never. It does something. Lights you up from the inside out. Supernova in his arms. Icarus burning, crashing down to earth—

Catch me, Apollo—

He pulls away instead. Detaches from you with a heavy groan, as if the distance that now sits between you hurts him just as much.

The silence is broken by the sound of the crowd just beyond the pillar. You can see the moment it settles over him in the flattening of his eyes, the erasure of all affection that bloomed bright in blue. The terse set to his shoulders. The distance, the space, that grows and grows and grows—

He clears his throat. Mr Price once more. Untouchable. Off-limits.

"You should go," he says, and there's not an ounce of give in the rough flatline of his voice. Fixed. Firm. "You should go back to your hotel room. Come on. I'll call you a taxi."

"And you?"

He sucks in a breath through his nose, nostrils flaring. "Don't worry about me. Just—go back to the hotel room. We can—we'll talk in the morning."

"Where'd you?" She asks when you crawl into bed, the starchy sheets rubbing against your sunbitten skin.

There is a deluge of things you want to say. Things like—

I'm sorry. I love him. I—

can't let go.

"I think I just got my heart broken," you say instead, and wonder when the tears are supposed to come. At the wedding, maybe. But right now, you just feel numb. Empty.

The bed creaks when she rolls over, facing you in the dark. "Really? Didn't know you were, you know, foolin' around with anyone."

"I wasn't. It's—" your dad. But you can't say that, can you?

There's something painfully nostalgic about loving a man you're not supposed to want. A man who cannot, should not, want you back. An unrequited love in a foreign land. Unconsummated in the summer's heart. Sticky, bittersweet heartbreak.

Or, that's what it's supposed to be.

They are not John Price, though. Your best friend's dad. And they didn't kiss you back—

But he did.

And you think it's the worst thing he could have ever done.

#in all honesty #this will pros go nowhere lmao #i have a clear idea for bfd Price and this doesn't really fit #but it was the og idea in my head and i need it to go somewhere while i restructure this story #john price x reader #BFD Price

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themattgirl · 1 year ago

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could you please make one where Chris and reader are dating and reader feels sick and Chris just takes care of her and acts all sweet and stuff? 🫠

an: thank you for the request ily 🧡

this turned out so much longer than i intended

this isn’t my first one shot but it’s the first with one of the sturniolo triplets in it.

obviously their characters have been altered by me a little to fit into the story but i tried to make it as realistic as possible by keeping their personality traits as they are in real life.

also comment or like this post if you want to be added to the taglist

pairing: chris x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fluff, use of ‘babe’ and ‘ma’ as pet names for reader, intentional wrong spelling in text messages to make it more realistic, mentions of nsfw themes, swearing, lots of playful teasing between characters

y/n’s dialogue

chris’ dialogue

matt’s dialogue

nick’s dialogue

mary lou’s dialogue

“it’s just a cold, nothing serious i promise. i don’t think i can come over today though, i don’t wanna infect any of you. i’m sorry for ruining movie night,” i say to chris on facetime before breaking into a cough. i turn the camera away from me, not wanting him to see me in a disgusting state like this. if i could, i would’ve muted myself so he doesn’t have to listen to it either. plus, i know how worried he gets with any type of sickness or unwell feeling really.

so, of course it wouldn’t be chris if he didn’t immediately furrow his brows.

“babe no, don’t apologize. you didn’t choose to get sick.”

he gets up from where he was sitting on the couch and goes downstairs to his bedroom. he puts the phone down so all i can see now is his ceiling. his voice sounds a little farther away when he speaks again, “it doesn’t really sound like nothing serious, does anything hurt?”

“to be honest, my whole body has been aching since i woke up this morning. it’s not too bad, just a dull ache, i can still move and all that, even if i’d prefer to just lay here and rot away,” i laugh and hold back the cough that wants to escape right after in hopes it would make him worry a little less. vainly.

“your voice sounds stuffy and kinda hoarse, does your throat hurt?”

“i forgot you turn into a doctor every time somebody doesn’t feel great,” i roll my eyes even though he can’t see it with his phone still down and him on the other side of the room from how distant his voice sounds.

“shut up, y/n. you feel worse than ‘not great’. you’re not fooling anyone with that act.”

he reappears on the screen. now i can see what he has been doing in the time i couldn’t see him. he put on a hoodie over the tank top he had been wearing before, the hair he had put up in a little ponytail - if you could even call it that - in the front has been untied and brushed. or maybe he just ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times, that’d be more like it.

“anyways baby, imma call mom real quick. be right back,” he hangs up before i get the chance to respond.

i put the phone down next to me on the bed i’ve been in since i realized this morning how much it hurt to stand up and how i felt like i was gonna throw up every time i moved too hastily.

i took a deep breath - well, as deep as a breath can get when your nose is clogged - and closed my eyes to try and concentrate on something other than the throbbing pain in my head.

i feel so much worse than how i described it to chris and i feel bad for kind of lying to him, i do. but he has been dealing with so much of his own lately - new designs for his brand, fixing the shipping issues with some of the orders from his last drop, coming up with video ideas and prefilming those before him, nick and matt go on tour again, preparing everything for said tour - see, he really doesn’t need me to add to his things-to-worry-about-list, especially if he can’t do anything to fix it and it’ll go away on its own anyway.

i feel my phone’s vibration from somewhere in between the sheets and grab it. it's messages from nick.

hey y/n heard your not feeling so good (:/ smiley) i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

hope you feel better soon tho

matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday

I hey y/n heard your not feeling so good 😕 i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

word spreads faaast 😂 i’m so sad i gotta wait another week or so to see you again i only like sleepovers cuz of u but dont tell chris 🤫

I i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

seriously i hate that yk me so well 😐

I its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

at first i was like 🤨 but then i kept reading i LOVE YOUU SO MUCH OMG just so yk chris was the second option

I hope you feel better soon tho

me too now i’m excited for the pajamaaas 😫

I matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday 🤔

i’m gonna kill him like fr this time

hey where tf is chris??

talking to mom shes teaching him sth honestly don’t ask idk

ok 😂 i think im gonna take a nap talk later?

yess get some rest and lmk if you need anything ❤️

ly❤️❤️

after sending the last message i get a call from matt. i contemplate not picking up for a second but decide against it.

“what?”

“uff, what’s that attitude?”

“i’m sick because of you, shithead.”

“we don’t know that. what if you’re the one who passed it on to me, hm? besides, i was just calling to tell you to drink some water and to ask if you need anything. i was actually being nice but you clearly don’t deserve it,” his voice is just as bad as mine, if not worse which makes me feel a little bad, but matt wouldn’t be one of my best friends if i had to worry about him getting mad every time i’m not nice. that’s actually how we bonded after annoying each other every chance we got. we both have a bit of an attitude problem which caused a lot of irritation and aggravation. now we get along better than any pair of best friends. the teasing stayed in place, but now we both know there’s only endless love behind it. sometimes you just gotta let off a bit of steam and we both just get that.

“fine, i’m sorry. sickness really does turn you soft, huh?” i smirk.

“why’re you saying it like you just confirmed a theory?”

“mary lou told me once and i’ve been waiting ever since to see for myself, guess she was right.”

“you are actually the worst. i’m hanging up now. drink water, bye.”

he hangs up the phone and i laugh to myself. what a big baby.

i open chris’ chat and type in a message telling him i’m going to sleep and that i will call him once i wake up again. i don’t bother waiting for a reply and just put the phone on my nightstand. i turn on my side, close my eyes and after that i don’t notice anything anymore.

i jolt up from bed, breathing heavy, body sweaty and heart racing. my room is dark, lit up only by the moon shining through my window. i look around trying to remember where i am and shake the nightmare from my mind.

i reach for my phone and check the time.

11:43 pm

i turn on the flashlight and right when i notice a black jacket hung over the back of my desk chair i hear footsteps coming closer.

chris pushes the door open and steps in.

“oh shit, did i wake you?”

“no i had a nightmare. what are doing here?”

i sit upright in bed and turn the flashlight off when chris flips the switch to turn on the fairy lights around the edges of my ceiling.

he moves to sit on the bed next to me before he answers, “i had mom teach me how to make her get-well-quick-soup and brought you some. she also told me about the perfect remedy tea, i can make it for you,” he stands up again immediately, “i’ll heat up the soup for you first. shit ma, have you even eaten anything today?” he stands by the door, holding the handle but looking back over his shoulder at me.

“chris,” i honestly don’t know what to say to him. he is so sweet i have to fight the tears that build up on my waterline. i just look at him for a moment, a little smile ghosting on my lips.

i’m well aware of how caring, considerate and compassionate chris is as a person in general, but it still baffles me sometimes how much he goes out of his way to make others feel good. i guess i’m just not used to it, being loved like this, having someone do everything that lies in their hands - and beyond that - just for me. it’s astonishing to say the least. especially when i myself have had issues with showing how deeply i cherish somebody ever since i can remember. it’s probably rooted somewhere in my past and how my affection has been received and responded to, that’s what my therapist says anyway.

i shake myself out of my thoughts and move the blanket away from my body to finally get up. immediately chris is beside me, holding me in place, “what’re you doing, ma? stay here i’ll bring it up,” he talks quietly, trying to get me to take in my previous lying position but i stay put on the ground.

“babe, i have been in this bed almost all day. i need to get up. i’ll just come down with you, we can eat together in the kitchen,” i try to convince him.

he looks at me, an uncertain expression on his face for a few seconds, the gears in his head almost visibly turning while he thinks about it. at last he lets out a sigh and nods, “alright then, hop on my back,” he bends over in a piggy back position in front of me and i can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“you do know i can walk, right?” i ask still chuckling.

“i know, come ooon, just do it,” he urges me on and wiggles his hips, making me laugh even harder when i climb on his back.

“you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow, chris,” i complain mournfully once he lets me down to sit on the kitchen counter while he gets to heating up the soup he brought.

chris insists he’s not prone to catch a cold or any sickness easily, no matter how contagious or how close to the source he might be, even though he has proven himself wrong multiple times on more occasions than he cares to admit.

“no i won’t. besides, i could use a few days off even if i have to be sick to get that,” he lets out a huff of air trying to make it sound humorous, but both of us - and everyone who knows chris for that matter - knows that he is exhausted and is in desperate need of a break.

i know he doesn’t want me to get serious about that topic right now though so i try to change routes, “oh my god,” he turns around from where he was stirring the soup on the stove and faces me, confused about my shocked exclamation. i point an accusatory finger at him, my jaw hanging low but a smile still creeping it’s way on my face.

“so that’s why you’re here. you came to try and get infected, that’s why you carried me down too even though you know damn well i coulda walked by myself. and i’m here thinking you were actually being the best boyfriend on earth. turns out my man is a piece of shit,” by the end i fail to stay serious and let out a giggle. well, it’s not like he actually believed that i meant what i was saying but still.

he lets go of everything he was holding, turns around to me fully and begins to stalk toward me slowly.

“oh yeah?” i don’t know if it’s just me or if he’s doing it on purpose but all of a sudden his voice sounds deeper, his face more stern and serious.

“is that what you think then? i’m just a piece of shit?” he makes me nervous at first but the second i see the smirk on his lips i know exactly what’s about to follow.

“chris. no.”

he is standing right in front of me, so close he has positioned himself in between my legs, his hands on the counter on either side of me, trapping me. the finger i was pointing at him long since taken back.

“am i a piece of shit when i make you cum with just my tongue?” his face is so close now.

“stop,” i say quieter than i mean to, almost whisper-like.

“or when i fuck you so good you can’t walk right for days, am i a piece of shit then?”

this asshole is doing it on purpose. he knows i would never have sex with him when i’m sick so he’s trying to rile me up the little fucker. have i mentioned that i actually hate him. like for real hate him. the type of hate that leads to an absolutely mindblowing fuck. shit.

“or yesterday when you told matt you needed a break and came downstairs to my room to suck me off and then you just wiped your mouth and went back up like nothing happened. did you do it because i’m a piece of shit?”

my jaw is on the floor.

“or when–”

“OKAY,” i practically scream, “you’re the best and i didn’t mean what i said, just please stop.”

i’m almost whining at this point.

i try to rub my legs together to ease some of the friction unnoticeably but chris is like a hawk, sees everything, notices everything. and then he smiles. just smiles and goes back to the soup.

later that night, after i was forced to eat almost all of the soup and drink two cups of magic tea while chris downed a cheese burger, fries and three of the last four pepsi cans i had in my fridge, we snuggled up on the couch with a heavy blanket that chris had also asked his mom for, thrown over both of our laps and a random movie playing on the tv.

neither one of us actually felt like watching something but we threw it on as background noise anyway. chris and i have barely seen each other in almost two weeks so all we want right now is to enjoy each other's company. he has been so busy with all that’s coming up for him and his brothers, still is. and i've been studying like crazy because i always feel like i won’t pass if i don’t and when i wasn’t busy with that i’d be at work to earn my living and feel like i’m doing enough. so there wasn't really time for us to actually be together and get to enjoy it. i've missed it.

“you know you’re probably sick because you exhaust yourself all the time,” chris says when he turns to look at me.

“shh,” i shush him with my eyes closed and a smile on my lips, “i got it from matt, no discussion.”

he lets out a little laugh at that, “yes discussion. if you keep going like that, one day it’s gonna have more serious effects on your health than a cold. you don’t even need to do all that. how many times do i have to tell you your life is worth enough even if you don’t work yourself half to death and have a little fun every once in a while,” he rubs my thigh while talking. chris knows better than anyone that i don’t like being put on the spot and lectured about my not-so-healthy habits like that, especially when i know exactly that it’s in fact very unhealthy. but he also insists on having these talks with me because he knows i would shut out everyone else who’d dare to try immediately. he and his brothers are the only three people i have let come so close and they make use of that quite often, might i say. but it’s okay because these people are my best friends and i know i need to be put in check sometimes, i admit. nobody else would dare try but them so i just let them.

i must say, it has helped me improve my life to an extent. they taught me that it’s okay to cut ties with people who are bad for my mental health and encourage bad habits, and that i don’t owe shit to them even if they want to make me believe that. they kept telling me “quality friends are worth so much more than a big amount of bad ones” until it finally clicked in my brain and i blocked half of my contact list.

“look who’s talkin’. mister i work twice as hard as the person i try to lecture,” i jab my finger in his side and he jerks.

“you know that’s different,” he holds my hands in his to stop me from doing it again.

i like feeling his hands on mine. i know he’s my boyfriend and it might be weird to say it like that. but i haven’t seen him in so long, which means i also haven’t felt him in so long. it’s crazy but it almost feels like in the beginning when we were scared to touch each other and would act like we accidentally brushed our hand on the other but we both knew it was fully on purpose.

chris pulls me out of my thoughts again when he speaks, “at least i have an end in sight and work’s gonna be way more relaxed once i’m done with everything. with you there’s always–”

the ringing of his phone cuts him off and he takes a look at the caller id, his mom. he narrows his eyes at me and gives me a look that says “we’re not done yet” but picks up the phone and holds it up so she can see the both of us on the screen.

“i was going to ask chris about you but since you’re with him please pinch him for me,” is the first thing mary lou says when she looks at us. and i gladly do as she says even though i don't know what he did to deserve it.

“oww, what was that for?” chris asks whining and i just shrug and chuckle.

“you told me you would bring y/n the soup and go back home. you lied to me.”

i turn to him with my mouth hanging open, “christopher owen, how dare you?”

it’s so fun to aggravate chris.

he furrows his brows at me and then looks back at the screen, “she literally begged me,” he straight up lies. “i was trying to tell her i didn’t wanna get sick so i could only drop off the soup and blanket and would have to leave again but then she started crying–”

i hit him for real this time, hard enough to make him suck air through his teeth.

“mary lou, don’t believe a word he says.”

“i know, darling, you wouldn’t do that. chris, that’s twice you’ve lied today.”

“sorry, mom,” he actually looks defeated now, “you know i can’t just leave her all alone when she’s like this. i lied because i didn’t wanna worry you. i won’t get sick though,” at that me and her give each other a knowing look but let him continue, “y/n’s weak and in pain, of course i’ll be by her side as much as i can, you probably knew i was here, that’s why you called me,” chris wiggles his finger at his mom with a cheeky smile while she’s trying to hide her own.

“alright, alright,” she gives in, “that’s how young love is, i guess. anyway, have you eaten the soup yet?”

“almost all of it,” i report proudly, rubbing my stomach.

“only forced,” chris side-eyes me and i roll my eyes at him.

“and the tea?” mary lou just keeps going. well, i definitely know where her son gets the caring from.

i grab the mug that’s been sitting on the table for two hours and could now be considered iced tea and hold it up for her to see, “this is my third,” i take a sip.

“very good. okay, well, i just wanted to check if chris is taking good care of you. it’s important for you to get enough rest, don’t go to sleep too late, alright darling? i have to go now but if you need something just give me a call. i’ll talk to you both in the morning. good night, i love you,” she blows two kisses as we tell her we love her and then she ends the call.

right when chris puts his phone down we hear the doorbell ring.

we both glance at the direction of the front door as if we could see through it and figure out who’s standing on the other side. then we turn and look at each other.

“expecting someone?” chris asks me and i just shake my head no and shrug unknowingly.

“open up!” the voice sounds muffled but it’s unmistakably matt.

chris rolls his eyes and sighs loudly and i just giggle.

he moves the blanket and gets up to go open the door but stops in his tracks suddenly, turns around again, bends down and kisses me.

“won’t be able to do that for a while if he’s here,” he explains before he goes.

matt and nick do complain every time we kiss in front of them, so we agreed on trying not to do it anymore. they act like little kids being forced to see their parents being all lovey-dovey with each other. at least one of them always yells “GET A ROOM!” as if they’re not invading our personal space. big babies, like i said.

“what’s up, bitches?” nick walks in wearing the pajamas we wanted to match, holding up his hands. one holding what i assume is my set of the exact same one and a pillow in his other hand.

i jump up from the couch immediately and squeal as i run toward him to hug him.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once we let go of each other, our smiles still as big as ever.

“since chris is here breathing in germs and this one,” he points his thumb over his shoulder where matt is giving chris a pajama pair, “is already sick i thought we might as well have our movie night here since i’m getting it from one of you either way.”

“i’m so happy,” i squeak, elongating the words.

“aren’t you happy to see me too?” matt acts sad and offended when he moves to stand next to nick.

i roll my eyes but give him a big hug, “i am actually.”

chris scoffs and we all laugh. he moves to stand closer to me and i wrap my arms around him, tilting my head to look at him.

“you guys can go in the kitchen, grab some snacks while me and chris put on our pajamas,” i say to nick and matt, my eyes still locked on my boyfriend.

they do as they’re told once the’ve put down their things and soon enough they’re out of sight.

“you good?” chris asks me quietly, stroking my hair gently

“yeah. i just realized our alone time is over,” i respond in a hushed tone.

he gives me a kiss on the forehead before he talks, “it’s okay, we’ll just go up to your room when they’re asleep. nothing’s keeping me away from you tonight.”

hearing it makes comfort spread in my chest in a way i didn’t know i needed right now.

“i love you so much, chris. thank you for everything,” i try to sound genuine, because i truly am.

he holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger and dips his head until his lips meet mine.

“i love you too, ma.”

taglist:

@strniolosworld @that-general-simp @sturniolosreads @whoreforchr1s

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic

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kcwriter-blog · 1 year ago

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Just recently I asked myself an important question. Why do I, a person not usually into angst, continue to romance Solas. It’s not like it’s going to end differently. My Lavellan will always get her heart broken.

The simple answer? It’s worth it. There is a gentleness in how they treat each other that you don’t find in many real-life relationships much less in a video game. It’s soft, quiet, and tender. It’s what love looks like after years with someone you truly care about.

How can that be? Solas isn’t being honest with her. To Solas’ credit, he realizes that. He takes her to Crestwood to tell her the truth. When he realizes he can’t, he breaks it off. Which in and of itself is an act of love.

What he is honest about is his love for Lavellan. He never denies his feelings. A case in point is the aftermath of the first kiss. It would be so easy for Solas to say that he just got caught up in the moment. He doesn’t. He may say that it’s been a long time and that he thinks a relationship isn’t a good idea, but he never denies that he has feelings for her. Even when he breaks it off, he refuses to lie and say she was a casual dalliance or that he doesn’t love her.

For her part, Lavellan never pushes Solas. When he asks for time to think, she grants it. “Take all the time you need.” She understands him. He has trust issues. Getting into a relationship with her would be a big step for him. She may not know what made him that way, but she cares enough to let him decide if a relationship is something he truly wants. She is willing to wait.

This demonstrates a respect for each other and for their budding relationship. They are honest about their feelings. They are willing to take it slow. They talk about it like adults. They go into it knowing there will be risks.

An underrated aspect of the relationship is the conversations where Solas shares his recollections of things he saw in the Fade. Solas isn’t just randomly pulling stories out of his hat. He is telling Lavellan about the things he saw that meant the most to him. He is opening up to her, trusting that she won’t laugh at him or dismiss him. For her part, she actively listens. It’s a quiet kind of loving and, for me, one of the most intimate things you can do in a relationship.

The balcony scene is another place where this plays out. Solas wants to be with Lavellan. He has come up to the balcony to tell her that. He still has reservations. He wants her but he doesn’t want to hurt her.

Lavellan knows he must be the one to make the choice. Instead of kissing him, she puts her hands behind her back. If he wants this, he will have to kiss her. He balks. She asks him not to go. Many people interpret this as begging. That’s not it. She is telling him, quietly, that if he leaves, she won’t wait any longer. “It would be kinder in the long run but losing you would…” He can’t. He loves her. He decides to take the risk.

There is also a strong spiritual component to their relationship. Solas isn’t attracted by her physical beauty. He is all about the spirit. To him she is wonderful. Someone wise. Someone who thinks before she acts. He calls her beautiful in Crestwood, but I think he is talking about her soul, not what she looks like.

There are many other small moments that give us clues as to what their relationship looks like post balcony scene. Solas attempts to comfort her at the Winter Palace by dancing or taking her in his arms. She reassures him that he can trust her. They hold hands in Crestwood. He calls her “my heart” and it’s clear she is precious to him. His voice when he speaks with her in Crestwood is intimate. It’s a vocal tenor we don’t hear anywhere else. He remonstrates with Sera when she jokes about his relationship with Lavellan.

I find it interesting that even if Lavellan is angry, when Solas finds the broken orb she isn’t fist pumping because he didn’t get what he wanted. She treats him with kindness.

He goes out of his way to tell her what they had was real – or that she was right to be angry. No matter what happened they acknowledge each other’s feelings.

Everything paints a picture of an intensely private, intimate, loving relationship. That’s what I love about it and it’s why I keep coming back for more.

#solas #solavellan #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #dai #solasmance #fen'harel #solas dragon age #solas dread wolf #solas x female lavellan #sometimes its about tenderness

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yuzurujenn · 3 months ago

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[2025.02.25] GOETHE April issue - Yuzuru Hanyu Special 30th Birthday Edition

Cover Story

The cover shoot took place at a studio in Sendai, Yuzuru Hanyu’s hometown. That day, he had multiple media shoots, with ours scheduled last. Despite how tired he must have been, Hanyu entered the studio with a deep bow, saying, “Thank you for waiting! I look forward to working with you!” His thoughtfulness instantly captured everyone’s hearts.

The shoot spanned 20 pages and lasted for quite some time. Yet what left the editorial team in awe was his unwavering focus and astonishing ability to adapt to the photographer’s requests. He effortlessly absorbed each instruction and transformed it into expressions that far exceeded our expectations. In one of the most memorable shots, Hanyu holds his own pair of skates—a reflection of his deep love and passion for figure skating.

At the end of the shoot, he once again bowed deeply and said, “Thank you very much! Thank you for your hard work!” before swiftly leaving the studio. The entire team couldn’t help but burst into spontaneous applause.

Interview: Challenging a New Self

On December 7, 2024, professional figure skater Yuzuru Hanyu turned 30. Even now, he continues to train with greater intensity than when he won his Olympic gold medals. We delve into the mindset, beliefs, and unwavering determination at the core of a man who constantly strives to evolve and surpass himself.

Special Interview Part 1: "I Decided to Stick to What I Believe Is Right"

The Current State of Yuzuru Hanyu at 30

For Yuzuru Hanyu, Japan’s national skating treasure, there’s no need for empty flattery. It has been about two and a half years since he announced his professional transition in July 2022. As the executive producer of his own ice shows, he has completed three major productions: GIFT at the Tokyo Dome, followed by RE_PRAY and ECHOES OF LIFE. These monumental achievements brought him a sense of fulfillment that could only come from overcoming such grand challenges. Reflecting on his journey, Hanyu speaks calmly:

"It was both tough and fulfilling. Being thrown into a world of freedom also brought its own kind of restrictions and made me realize my own limitations. It’s been a journey of searching, reaching out, and finally starting to understand many things by my third year as a professional. My connection to visuals, projections, and how the stories link to the programs has deepened significantly. It feels like all the efforts I’ve made beyond skating—branching out, absorbing inspiration—are finally starting to grow into a solid trunk."

Stepping into a space where Hanyu performs feels almost reverent. Through his ice stories, he tackles the profound theme of the meaning of life itself. His wholehearted performances pose philosophical questions to modern society:

"I’ve always wondered about the meaning of my own life since I was young. By the time I became aware of myself, I already had a name and was already ‘living.’ My earliest memory is realizing I could blink on my own. That night, I wondered: What if I fall asleep and wake up as a baby again? Life is so intangible—you can’t even prove your own existence. Because life is so fleeting, I hope my performances can inspire people to reflect on life and what it means to be alive."

The right thing to do is to leave it to each and every once-in-a-lifetime encounter.

Hanyu’s pride in his method of expression is clear. Rather than conforming to expectations, he listens to his inner voice and translates that honesty into his performances. One example he mentions is his 2023 show RE_PRAY, which drew on video game worlds to portray the destiny that lies beyond the choices we make in life.

"Honestly, if I were choosing music just for those who supported me during my competitive career, I think I should have stuck with classical pieces. But I deliberately chose game music because I decided to stick to what I believe is good. As a result, game fans and people who hadn’t been interested in figure skating started to watch my performances, expanding the audience. Every time I create something, I want it to be something I genuinely love, something that resonates with me. I’d be happy if fans of those original works see my respect for them while also enjoying my performance as Yuzuru Hanyu’s unique form of entertainment."

His most recent show, ECHOES OF LIFE, combined piano compositions with contemporary dance and hip-hop to convey the idea that what seems like coincidence might actually be destiny.

"I’ve recently realized that with the right skills and creativity, a lot can be done even on ice. This time, I worked hard to bring movements I learned off the ice onto it. I constantly think about what I want to express at its core and try to translate that through figure skating."

When asked about future performances, Hanyu candidly admits to the uncertainties and evolving passions in his journey:

"Over time, my creative ideas may dwindle. There aren’t many things in life you can dedicate yourself to with complete passion. For me, it’s been figure skating, games, manga, and anime. But who knows? Maybe turning 30 will lead me to discover new interests. I think trusting in those chance encounters is the right approach for now."

Special Interview Part 2 "I Take Pride in the Fact That What I’ve Been Doing Is a Sport"

Being an Athlete Is My Foundation: The Profession of Yuzuru Hanyu

When breaking down what it means to be “Professional: Yuzuru Hanyu,” one thing becomes clear—he never cuts corners in creating captivating performances. His unwavering belief in figure skating as a sport underpins every intense and powerful routine.

"When I turned pro, I made it clear from the start: I am an athlete. Figure skating, while inherently an artistic sport, is a discipline in which the athletic aspect makes up about 80 percent. Without physical strength, you can't skate properly, and without technical skill, landing a quad is impossible. In Ice Story, doing two quads after skating for 30 minutes was nearly impossible. The most important thing for me as a pro is not to lean too heavily into the artistic side just because I’m no longer competing. I take great pride in the fact that what I have dedicated myself to is a sport. As an athlete, I strive for strength and the ability to inspire. I believe that my professional pride now lies in continuing to merge the inspiration drawn from the power of sports with the emotional impact of art."

When thinking of Yuzuru Hanyu during his competitive days, one imagines his hunger for victory and raw instincts on full display. While that aspect remains unchanged, what has evolved is his definition of "victory."

“Every time I create a program, I build it with the mindset that it’s impossible to complete. In a good way. Before, winning and becoming a champion was my main goal. Now, executing this program perfectly has become my challenge and my goal. If I can’t do it flawlessly, that’s my defeat. If I can, that’s my victory. Since an Ice Story performance doesn’t end in just one day, it motivates me to aim for perfection in every subsequent performance. It's like turning what I once thought was impossible into something possible within myself.”

How does he maintain such a consistently high level of motivation? The way he sets his goals reveals the essence of a truly exceptional athlete.

"Setting goals in life is very difficult. The closer the goal is, the easier it is to achieve, but the sense of accomplishment doesn't really generate a sense of self-efficacy. But if the goal is too far away, it feels unattainable, and every day just becomes a struggle. But for me, setting distant goals is more enjoyable in a sense, even if it means struggling along the way."

Searching Earnestly, Finding Value Within Himself

Despite his illustrious records, including two Olympic gold medals, behind those achievements lie countless failures and relentless trial and error. His fighting spirit, the ability to keep standing up after every setback, is rooted in witnessing the resilience of people rebuilding after the Great East Japan Earthquake—an event he experienced firsthand.

“Humans tend to remember negative experiences much more vividly, so forgetting failure is impossible. But every failure has a reason behind it. Maybe it’s because the goal-setting was wrong. But instead of giving up, I search for solutions—whether it's a lack of effort on my part, the wrong method of practicing, or even focusing on the wrong technical aspects. If I keep searching without giving up, I believe I can achieve it. It is really difficult to have the strength to believe. But like the people rebuilding from the Noto Earthquake or the Hibakusha who received the Nobel Peace Prize, I'm sure they are where they are today because they have continued to believe for so long. I experienced 3/11 firsthand, so I have a deep understanding of how powerful human belief can be. It sounds idealistic, but if you don’t give up, things will somehow work out. However, if you half-heartedly try without full commitment, nothing will change. That’s why it’s important to seriously search for what’s valuable to you and keep working on it steadily.”

I have more muscle, technique and knowledge now than I did when I was competing.

The daily routine to remain a top athlete. It was self-training six days a week, an average of more than five hours a day.

“I practice on the ice and train off-ice for about three hours every day. After a quick break, I sometimes train for another three hours, focusing on weightlifting—lifting barbells, swinging dumbbells, the typical weight training exercises. There is no time to relax. Sometimes, my exhaustion shows in my attitude. But I’ve learned to recognize when I’m pushing too hard and try to rest intentionally.”

While he was a fierce competitor during his active career, as a professional now, he’s also a solitary artist. His commitment has become second nature, and through it, he constantly transforms himself into a higher version of who he is.

“In figure skating, even sleeping needs to be considered part of your training. It wasn’t just about being a professional athlete; even during my competitive days, I had to structure my entire life around winning Olympic gold. That hasn’t changed. To be honest, I definitely practice more now than I did back then, I'm more toned, I have more muscle, and I have more technique and knowledge. It's fun to keep improving myself like that."

Valuing Every Small Moment Each Day

At 19, Hanyu won gold at the Sochi Olympics, and at 23, he achieved back-to-back victories at the PyeongChang Olympics. In his late 20s, he attempted the unprecedented quadruple Axel and made a fresh start as a professional skater. The 30 years of his life so far, marked by legendary achievements, are simply a continuation of his present, where he continues to live life to the fullest.

“I think I’ve always been fully focused on the present. From the outside, people probably think I’m someone with an incredibly strong core. But in reality, the thoughts and ideas surrounding that core can be quite fragile. When something bad happens, when I see something unpleasant, when someone says something hurtful… I waver easily. It’s easy for me to lose motivation for practice. But looking back on my 30 years, I think I’ve always managed to live through those wavering moments with care and keep going.”

Now at a pivotal age of 30, Hanyu describes himself as being "in his prime." His widened experience and perspective bring a deep sense of fulfillment.

“I finally feel like my knowledge, imagination, and physical ability are reaching a new level. There are still many times when my body doesn’t fully align with what I envision, but I've finally begun to grasp how to train in a way that moves me closer to that goal. When I set a goal, I think I have a pretty good understanding of the path to achieving it. But I'm sure when I'm 40, I'll realize that I still didn't understand anything back then. It feels like I’ll keep repeating that process forever.”

“I Probably Have a Stronger Sense of Anticipation for Tomorrow Than Most People"

How does he see himself as a professional skater moving forward? Aware of the ever-present risk of injury, his eyes remain fixed on the future.

“I think I probably have a stronger sense of anticipation for tomorrow than most people. That’s why I feel that if I don’t take responsibility for my actions today, tomorrow will only become more difficult. For example, I think my physical condition today is a direct result of what I did yesterday. I don’t know if this mindset comes from being an athlete. Honestly, in figure skating, even if I go to practice tomorrow, there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to practice the day after. So, it's not that easy to draw a blueprint for the future. But, just as I’ve worked hard for the past 30 years, I want to keep valuing the little moments of each day. I hope that when I look back tomorrow, I can think, ‘I gave it my all today.’”

A life rich in experiences has shaped his intricate way of thinking. Yet, he still leaves room for the unexpected. For Yuzuru Hanyu, a one-of-a-kind skater, walking his own path with unwavering composure is, in itself, a continuous challenge.

Source: GOETHE Apr 2025 issue, pg 15, pg 87-101 https://goetheweb.jp/person/article/20250226-yuzuru-hanyu?heading=2 Info: https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B0DRNR4BX6?tag=goetheweb-22

#hanyu yuzuru #yuzuru hanyu #羽生結弦 #figure skater #figure skating #goethe #magazine #interview #machine #translation #gucci brand ambassador

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teaboot · 1 year ago

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Your post about art vs content got me thinking about the differences between the two. To me there is no difference besides the mindsets. One is of creator and the enjoyer, the other is content and consumer it removes the personhood, the joy/emotion, from the equation. Like a writer or video creator may not see their work as art so content creator maybe a way to refer to themselves comfortably but it sounds so machine, emotionless and lifeless, like a cookie cutter recipe mass producing something verses people lovingly crafting something...then again Disney uses a cookie cutter recipe for the most part and it brings out bangers cause people lovingly make it their own so maybe I'm thinking too hard on this

Does my long-winded rant make sense?

see, I get what you mean, but I still feel like the willingness to entertain calling art of any kind "content" reduces it to the facet of consumption where in reality, the experience of consuming art is not the sole defining trait of it.

Reducing arts like music, writing, painting, dance, voice acting, theater, etc. to the role of "content"- a thing created to be consumed, measured and valued by how pleasant or easy it is to digest- I feel that it was our biggest red flag to herald the incoming tide of AI "art".

Because if art is "content", if arts are nothing but consumable matter, then obviously the key to success is to produce as much soft, tasty, edible paste as we possibly can at the lowest possible expense.

It's the same issue I have with "meal replacements", diet culture, nutrient slurries, twenty-step skincare routines, 24/7 body padding and shapewear and laxative teas and "grind culture". It's not a cause, but a symptom, of the disease that is late-stage capitalism.

Things must be produced at low cost and remain in high demand forever. Things must be perfect and palatable and the new hit trend forever. People must pay hand over fist to consume without asking anything in return, and if they start dropping like flies at the unending unrewarded thankless demand of it all, then that must be treated as a weakness. We should all take pride in how much we can spend, pay, give, produce, and think as little as possible about what we ask for ourselves.

So, who cares if, of two identical paintings, one was made by a person and one was made by a computer program? It's the same work, so what does it matter? What does it matter?

I am an artist. I make art. I ask a question, make a statement, declare something horrific or challenging or upsetting or wrong or grotesque, and when you respond, we are together experiencing a conversation. We are existing, two people living one life and reaching out and touching across time and space. No matter the work, you're at the barest minimum saying, "I'm alive, and you're alive, and at one time or another we shared this same world, and at the end of the day we aren't too terribly different. My heart is worth sharing, and your heart is worth the struggle of understanding."

An AI-generated piece, a computer-generated voice, a CGI puppet of someone long since dead and gone, they cannot speak. They have no voice. Ay best, they are the most chewable, consumable, landlord-beige common denominator possible that you can sit and listen to like the lone survivor of a shipwreck listening to the same three songs on a broken record, and at worst, they're the uncaring vomit of an empty, unloving, value-addled hack wearing the skin of someone I know over their own.

When you abandon art to say that you make content, that should not be a point of pride. That's an embarrassment. That's not sitting down for an intelligent discussion with an equal, that's kneeling at the feet of the crowd and saying, "what do you want to see me do? I can be anyone you've ever loved. I can be them, I can be anyone, as long as you love me."

I can make content. I can be consumed. What do you want to consume? I'll make myself consumable. I'll make myself just like anything you like. And I'll make so much of it that you'll never have to go anywhere else, because it'll all be right here, and under all the cut-and-paste schlock you've seen before I will sit alone in the dark and the silence and I will know that I am safe, because I am valued, because I am desired, and I need to be desired or else I am worthless like a factory that no longer churns out steel or a hen that no longer lays eggs or a cow that is too old to make milk.

Content, the most literal meaning, is something which is contained inside a container. What it is doesn't really matter, and the best it can hope to be is something worthy of being scooped out and used.

Art is an experience that transcends value. Art is something you can eat without paying for. You can make it out of anything and anyone can do it. It can be crude and vulgar and bad, and that's a strength because it means something. It always, always means something, and it doesn't matter if you like it or not. It's not content because it doesn't fill anything. It's a living, breathing thing, and whether you want to birth it or eat it, then you're going to have to be willing to put the fucking work in

#I want to apologize but I'm not going to #This is important to me #I do not want to create content #I do not want to be universally loved #I do not want my existence to revolve around being used #I'm not a machine I'm a person and I'll do what makes me happy #Even if that isn't good or useful #I don't want to be pretty I want to be alive #Don't look at me #I'm breathing #I'm screaming #I'm ugly and sharp and painful to hold #And that is not a bad thing #To come back to

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aishangotome · 5 months ago

Text

Azel Radwan: Chapter 17

Chapter 16 Letter

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

The dress that the maids, who now serve me with a sense of urgency unlike when we first met, prepared for me was woven with moons and stars, perhaps in deference to the Living God.

(This dress is truly lovely.)

I can't help but look down at myself whenever I get the chance, admiring the night sky dress.

The fabric itself subtly shines depending on the light, and I'm amazed by the dressmaking technique, which is different from Rhodolite's.

Silvio: They've prepared somethin' quite fine for you. As expected of a woman favored by God.

Silvio, who is accompanying me to the evening party as my escort, also seems to notice the meaning of my gaze and shows a mischievous smile at the corner of his mouth.

Emma: I'm not favored. As you saw during the day, I'm just an easy mark.

Silvio: Don't say that about yourself. Do those two know that you're in debt?

Emma: No. I didn't want to worry them...

(In that respect, it's easier to talk to Silvio because we have an appropriate distance between us.)

The prince of Benitoite doesn't worry excessively about me and maintains his position as a bystander.

Emma: Speaking of which, I haven't seen Clavis and Luke today.

Silvio: That pleasure-seeker has a lot of connections. He's probably drinking somewhere.

(I wonder if he's gathering information about the Triple Alliance.)

Silvio receives two glasses from a waiter and offers one of them to me.

Silvio: Here, you should drink too.

Emma: Thank you.

Silvio: But I won't take care of ya if you get drunk.

Emma: I certainly wouldn't cause you that much trouble, Prince Silvio.

(...Hmm, this is rich and delicious.)

While wetting my throat, I listen to the surroundings.

Nobleman: The riot the other day? Ah, that will soon be a past event we can laugh about.

Nobleman: As long as the Living God is alive, we'll be fine no matter what happens.

Noblewoman: These days, there are diviners for tourists, right? That's why divinations have become inaccurate.

Noblewoman: The Living God's blessings are only for the people of our own country...

Noblewoman: People from other countries are having some kind of influence.

Nobleman: The Living God's residence is supposed to be a sacred sanctuary, but it seems that people other than God's messengers are going in and out.

Nobleman: Even the favored girl aside, the sanctuary should be a sacred ground that must not be defiled, right?

Nobleman: Isn't the recent instability due to those disrespectful people who are violating the sacred?

(It seems like there are a lot of opinions and speculations about the situation in Tanzanite.)

(The common thing is that everyone believes in the Living God.)

(Even if divination has become inaccurate, faith doesn't crumble so easily.)

(At least the nobles attending the evening party are unwavering.)

???: Are you enjoying yourself?

Turning towards the familiar voice, His Majesty the King has come all the way to me.

I panic because I should be the one to greet him, but Enis smiles cheerfully, not seeming to mind at all.

Enis: You spoke to the Living God, didn't you? Let me thank you again.

Emma: But in the end, I couldn't bring him... I'm sorry.

Enis: No, I expected as much. If the Living God were to attend the evening party, it would truly be an omen of a cataclysmic event.

Enis: When he was a child, he often attended evening parties, his eyes sparkling at the delicious food...

Enis: But he stopped attending after a certain point.

Silvio: Oh, that's news to me. Did something happen?

The casual question created an inexplicable silence.

(...)

Enis: ...I'm sorry. Let's stop this conversation.

Enis: Because the Living God wouldn't want it.

(...Enis's expression is strained. Maybe the reason he doesn't attend the evening parties is more complicated than we think.)

Enis, as if nothing had happened, boldly drains the alcohol he was holding.

Enis: It's my turn to show you my sincerity, but it's a little inconvenient to talk about it here.

Enis: Let's meet in the throne room after the evening party.

Leaving only those words, Enis immediately headed to the seat prepared for the king and returned to chatting with the nobles.

Emma: ...That was an intriguing conversation.

Silvio: Ask him yourself.

Emma: It'll cost you.

Silvio: If you flirt with him, he might accidentally let it slip.

Emma: I don't think so.

Silvio: Ha, if you're serious, then I might understand God better than you.

(...)

Silvio: Woman, want to make a bet?

Silvio takes a sip of his alcohol and places the empty glass on the table.

Silvio: On whether the Living God will come to the evening party or not.

Emma: He clearly said he wouldn't come. Judging from the way Enis said it, I don't think he'll come either.

Silvio: Well then, I'll bet that he will come.

Silvio: How about the loser gives the winner a "special service ticket"?

Emma: ...Please forget about that already.

Silvio: Don't order me around.

(Why is he so confident?)

(Even though the odds are against him.)

Silvio: Unlike the last bet with God, I have a good chance of winnin' this time.

Emma: Specifically why?

Silvio: I told you, right? God favors ya.

Silvio: If a woman he favors dresses up and goes to an evenin' party, he normally wouldn't be able to stay calm.

Emma: ...I also said it already, didn't I? That I'm just an easy mark.

Silvio: That guy ain't the kind of good-natured person who would let just an easy mark live in his temple.

(Silvio seems to be implying that Azel's interest in me is genuine...)

I know better than anyone that it's impossible.

Emma: I'll probably win this bet.

Silvio: Keep telling yourself that. I have to start thinkin' about what I'll have yado.

(...Even though I think it's impossible, I can't calm down.)

I finish my drink and gently place the glass on the table.

(But if... if God really does appear at the evening party, then that's...)

In the distance, a heavy door opens with a loud sound.

At that moment, the noise dies down as if everyone has fallen into a dream.

(...That's...)

As if in response, the corners of Silvio's mouth lift.

Azel: I apologize for the interruption. Please don't mind me and continue your pleasant conversation.

Azel: I don't intend to spoil this enjoyable time.

Someone's agitation, someone's joy, someone's astonishment disappear into a world without sound.

The sacred being that has transformed the venue gives a compassionate smile and a benevolent gaze to all the people.

(...That's unfair.)

Enis: Living God...

Ennis rushes towards Azel with a flustered look.

It seems he really didn't expect him to come, and the word "astonishment" suits Enis perfectly right now.

Azel: Why are you so surprised? You called me, didn't you, Enis?

Azel: It's not bad to mingle and talk with everyone in a lively place once in a while.

Azel: Especially now, there are many people who are feeling uneasy, right? I hope my presence will be a source of support for everyone.

Enis: ...We are grateful for your compassion.

(The main character of the evening party has changed.)

From His Majesty the King to Azel--the participants, awakened from their dream-like state, gradually surround God.

Perhaps because he rarely appears in public, God is very popular.

Azel listens to the voices of the people without losing his smile.

Even though I know that he is a greedy, ill-natured God, I can't sense a shred of that.

(Even the people who were anxious earlier, and those who were voicing their complaints... everyone has a peaceful expression now.)

(As expected, God is great.)

Only Silvio and I are not surrounding Azel.

We move away from the crowd and engrave the image of God in our eyes from afar.

Silvio: You, prepare the service ticket, okay?

Emma: ...I don't understand.

Silvio: A loss is a loss. I said he would come, didn't I?

Emma: I admit defeat, but... what do you think he said to me at first?

Emma: He said, "Don't fall in love with me."

Silvio: Ah... he has terrible luck with women too. I understand how he feels.

Emma: After saying that himself, to come to the evening party...

Emma: I think it's really not right.

(If Silvio's guess is correct...)

Come to think of it, even though Azel doesn't mean to, he has a strangely unworldly air about him, and there have been many times when he's made my heart skip a beat.

(His lack of self-awareness is really troublesome. He's intelligent, but he's somehow clueless when it comes to dealing with people...)

As the one being toyed with, I can't stay calm.

Silvio: You can just ignore him. Or have you fallen for God too?

Emma: ...! No. I'm just lamenting the absurdity of it all.

Silvio: Ha, even your ears are red.

Emma: I drank some alcohol.

(...I'm just a little flustered.)

(That's all.)

Silvio teasingly pokes my ear, and I reflexively brush it away.

I glare at him, knowing it's disrespectful, and Silvio shifts his gaze, not at me--but further behind me...

Azel: Prince Silvio, are you enjoying our country's evening party?

(--...!?)

Before I knew it, God, who should have been surrounded by people, was standing behind me.

He places his hands on both my shoulders, and I jump in an exaggerated way.

Silvio: You should entertain the others instead of me. Everyone is eager to talk to ya, aren't they?

Azel: Of course, I'll talk to them, but...

Azel: Miss Emma, could you bring me a drink other than alcohol?

(...His voice is gentle, but...)

I secretly gasp, feeling an inexplicable pressure.

Emma: Are you... not good with alcohol?

Azel: No. It's just that a God doesn't drink alcohol.

(...I see.)

Emma: I'll bring it right away.

Silvio: Ask a maid.

Azel: Miss Emma is right next to me. Please.

(This is awkward.)

I rush away from Azel as if fleeing and look for a drink.

(Let's see, drinks other than alcohol...)

Azel: By the way, there's someone I'd like to introduce to Prince Silvio.

Azel: He's a rising star in our country's economic world, and will surely become a great merchant who will generate enormous wealth.

Azel: I think it wouldn't be a bad idea for Prince Silvio to make a connection with him now.

Silvio: For God to personally introduce someone? You're bein' awfully kind today.

Azel: I'm always kind to you, Prince Silvio.

Silvio: Ha, your intentions are obvious.

Azel: I suppose so. I just told you verbally.

Silvio: ...Well, fine. I'll let ya off the hook this time.

Silvio: I don't want to overdo it and earn your displeasure.

(...Found it.)

When I return with a container of water, Silvio has started drinking his second glass of alcohol with a young man.

Emma: Prince Azel.

Azel: Thank you.

Azel, receiving the water, looks at me for a moment as if he wants to say something, then turns his back.

Azel: Silvio seems busy, so you should go somewhere else.

Azel: Well then, I'll be going.

Azel returns to the circle of people and resumes his conversation.

Silvio also seems to be in a business discussion, and I'm left alone.

(...It seems like he only called out to me to separate me from Silvio.)

(No, I hope I'm just overthinking it.)

(If not...)

(God is too sinful.)

Azel: Ah, damn it, I can't take this anymore.

As soon as the evening party ends, Azel starts cursing.

He ignored me at the venue, but as soon as it was over, he caught me and dragged me into a guest room.

Emma: That's my line.

(I was planning to gather information at the venue, but I ended up being distracted by Azel.)

Azel: ...Are you angry about something?

Emma: Do you have any idea why I might be?

Azel: There's no way I would.

Emma: ...

Azel: Don't look at me with those reproachful eyes. Speak.

Emma: It's nothing. Please don't worry about it.

Azel: ...No, I can't help but worry...

Azel: In the first place, you're the one...

Azel, sitting on a long sofa by the window, points at me mercilessly.

Azel: What do you think you're doing, flirting with another man in public when you're obsessed with God?

Emma: I wasn't trying to flirt...

Azel: Yes, you were flirting. If you say that wasn't flirting, then what is?

(...Did I look that close to Silvio in Azel's eyes?)

Azel: If you get along with other men, the people around you might get the wrong idea and think you're no longer God's property.

Azel: It will only lead to trouble, so don't create unnecessary sparks.

(He has a point, but...)

Emma: Prince Azel... could you be jealous--

Azel: It's news to me that you have any value to be jealous of.

Azel overlaps my words as if to erase them.

His compassionate smile is nowhere to be found now.

Emma: Then why did you come to the evening party?

(I want a convincing explanation.)

Azel: I couldn't ignore it if Prince Silvio was going to participate, could I?

Azel: There was also someone I wanted to introduce to him for future purposes.

Emma: During the day, you were adamant about refusing.

Azel: I thought the wall repairs would take a long time, so I sent you away, but they finished earlier than expected, and I had free time.

Emma: ...

Azel: Ah, and also...

Azel puts his hand in his pocket and takes out a piece of paper.

(Ah, I forgot to collect that.)

In my line of sight, the free service ticket is waved back and forth.

Azel: I thought I'd take this after all.

Azel: You seem like the type who wouldn't listen even if you were in debt, right?

Azel: It's not a bad idea to have a ticket on hand to make you absolutely obey me at such times.

Emma: ...Promise you won't misuse it?

Azel: Me, misuse it? That's absurd.

(Maybe that was careless...)

Azel: Anyway, there were various advantages to showing up this time.

Azel: ...Judging from your face, Prince Silvio must have put some nonsense in your head...

Azel: Don't flatter yourself. I only act for my own benefit.

Azel: Certainly not because I was dissatisfied with Prince Silvio being your escort, or because I was interested in your dress...!

Azel: It's not for those reasons, so don't misunderstand.

Emma: I-I understand.

(But... why won't he meet my eyes?)

At first, I thought it was my imagination, but when I deliberately try to make eye contact, he blatantly avoids it.

Emma: ...Prince Azel?

Azel: I'm tired.

Emma: Is there a connection?

Azel: There is. Don't make me waste my energy on strange things.

(Being this unnatural makes me suspicious again.)

(Azel not meeting my eyes means he either has something to hide or he's embarrassed.)

Azel: Besides, why don't you get changed?

Azel looks out the window sulkily.

Emma: Of course, I'll change, but... I'm going to see Enis now.

Azel: Huh?

Emma: He might already be waiting for me, so I'll go ahead.

I turn around with lingering thoughts, but he quickly grabs my hand.

Azel: ...At night, alone?

Emma: Yes, alone.

Azel: Are you stupid? Enis is the master of the harem.

Emma: But you said that Enis is the best person to ask about the prophecy of the end...

Azel: That's true, but it's not.

(W-what does that mean?)

Just as silence falls, Azel stands up, scratching his hair.

Azel: I remembered something I need to do.

Emma: ...With Enis?

Azel: I couldn't talk to him properly at the evening party.

Emma: ...

Azel: What?

Emma: You're jealous after all--

I immediately cover my cheek with my hand, taking a defensive stance.

As expected, Azel's hand, which was about to pinch my cheek, is left hanging in the air.

(I won't fall for the same trick twice.)

Finally, I make proper eye contact with Azel.

His mystical eyes, filled with stars, are narrowed more unhappily than I expected--

Azel: ...Is that wrong?

Chapter 18

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar!

Holy CRAP I was going to stop translating after Ch 16 for today, but I was way too intrigued with Silvio trying to make Azel jealous. My heart was beating out of my chest during this whole chapter omg I love jealous Azel!!!!

#ikepri azel #ikemen translations #ikemen prince translations #azel #azel radwan #azel radwan main route #ikemen prince azel radwan #ikepri jp #cybird otome #azel radwan jealous

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jadenvargen · 2 years ago

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or tutorials for how you color? (i'm new to digital art (literally like a day in) and it's tricky for me but i love your coloring style. i'm working on this thing w very high contrast shading and coloring is haaard

It's very tricky especially going from traditional to digital! My first pieces were a rotten mess let me tell you. I'm working on making a draw with me or video tutorial for how I color and approach art to be posted to youtube, I just can't record the voice-over until my throat's recovered. I'm not a native english speaker so it's kind of embarrassing to listen to myself speak but I really wanna make it.

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ask-postcrash-curly · 3 months ago

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[ https://youtu.be/ocJlogyxxNY?si=w0eUl2HJNZK0Uoz2 ]

It's okay, it'll be okay. It's alright. It's not real. It's not real, I promise. It's just... like a bad dream. Nothing but noise. It's over now, darling. It's over. I'm here.

Just listen to my voice, sweetie. Do you remember talking me down from my nightmare about you? How terrifying that was for me, how badly panicked I became over it? Try to bring yourself back there again... easy, easy. Slowly. Gentle. It's okay if you can't. I'm right here, Curly. I won't let you fall.

I keep daydreaming about the future, you know. About when all the strands in my hair turn fully gray. (Many of them are already.) About when you're finally here with me, and Kestrel is lovingly married, and his fledgelings are running about my yard in the early springtime. And we are waiting on Lise and her wife and children to arrive from out of state to visit you again. I'll ask the two of you to show me your parents' banana pancake recipe to share with my grandbabies, and you can bicker over who is misremembering which steps. And I will make them whenever you wish, and we'll laugh about how I can never get them to taste quite the same as they were in your youth. But we'll be okay with that, too.

Perhaps by then lovely Madz will have access to that reality-hopping technology they were speaking of. They are more than welcome to join the family - they are already part of it, after all. You said that you didn't think you would be any good with kids, dear, but look at you! Already such a beloved uncle. Oh, I feel so old thinking of it. But the good kind of old.

... Do you like wind chimes? I have some dancing over my back porch. And there is a birdbath and feeders under the shade tree. We'll sit there in the morning and have tea and coffee together - before the sun has risen, when the sky is still a sleepy gray-blue. We can say goodnight to the last of the starlings still out. And Mom will be the first dove to wake again, and fly down to greet us. Doesn't all of that just sound brilliant?

It's okay, sweet pea. Everything will be alright... it'll be over soon, I promise. I'm waiting right here for you when it is.

[Soft humming, once more. Another song. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."]

Oh hey this is lovely. The music and the snow... The wind... It's all so peaceful. Thank you.

Hey!! Hello! Didn't realize it was you. ...Are you sure it's— ohh, you meant the, uh, fire video. Yeah that was shit. I can— Can I be real with you for a second? I think, looking at all that for so long with the fire and the explosions and whatnot, it's— knocked something loose in my head. Some wall that was between me and what happened. I can't stop thinking about it. Everything— the damn sunset, the— I am trying so bloody hard to calm down. It's not real. It's over. It's over. You're here.

Mhm. Listening. Yeah no I remember. Was sorry to see you so upset. I don't think I want to go back then—? Wait. Okay. You're saying that mindset. Of it's only a dream and not real... I know, yeah. Thank you. Just— it was real, yeah? I lived it. It hurt then and it hurts still, despite all logic. Hell, I— I don't think I can ever get out of that room. it wasn't ever safe in there, really, but I used to tell myself it was. Keep thinking of that conversation we had before she told me. She asked me about the locks, I didn't understand— Anya, I'm talking about. She asked why Pony Express didn't put locks on our bedrooms. Just on Medical, Utility, and the cockpit. For safety. For safety. But Medical's not safe. Cockpit wasn't either. Maybe never was? I don't know. Our shifts didn't always overlap. Whenever they did I— I'd be happy I got to talk to him? But whenever I was taking that walk to the cockpit I'd feel dread in the pit of my stomach and I didn't— Safety. Right. We're not either of us safe, not me, not her. But I— when I was in there myself it was safe. Sometimes even with him, but then— Him and me, our spot together, until— Everything's ruined now. Can't think about flying or candles or getting bloody sunburnt or anything I used to like without— being back there. It feels real. ...Sorry. Sorry, I didn't— No, I know, it's okay, I don't need to apologize, but I'm really fucking trying to get calm and it upsets me that I can't, you know? But— I'm okay, I'm not going to have another full-on panic attack. I'm bloody not, I won't. Just— just keep talking. You won't let me fall.

I was trying to do that a little bit ago. Didn't work out so well. I'm sure yours went better, hah. Gray hair. Mm. Sounds nice— Sound nice. And I'm there with you. Mhm. Yeah. To— to visit me. I'm sorry it's hard to make words make sense please just keep talking, I'm listening.

...........................

....................mhm. Brilliant. Yeah.

...........It's okay. Yeah. Over— over soon. And then— with you. Yeah.

(Okay okay I can— I can make this work. No one's in here, door's closed, they won't notice. In for four— hold four— out four. Hurts but nothing new. Again— four— four— four. God no I'm— nope, I'm— I'm focused, I'm focusing on— on the humming, it's really great, it's wonderful. Sunshine, hah. Fucking sunshine. Doesn't— doesn't have to hurt. Sunshine was nice once. Can be nice again. Sun that— doesn't hurt. Just, just warm, and not too bright. Behind a cloud, maybe. Yeah. The sun. That won't change, that'll still be there, and if it gets too much I can— I can move away from it. Prosthetics, wheelchair, something. I'll be able to— leave. Tea and coffee before the sun's up. Sky's gray-blue. Birds are there. And we're home before it's up. Safe. Won't have to look at it. Can close my eye. Got family, still got a family. And when I want something I can say so, I don't have to— not again, not ever. You know what, it's humming and it's lovely. The words don't matter. It's not even literal, it's a bloody metaphor and I like the song and I like her humming so any bullshit in my brain can fuck off and let me have this. I get to have this. Four— four— four. And I get to go home. And have a hug. Have a thousand hugs. Safe, loved, comfortable, comfortable sounds unbelievably nice. Just— keep waiting, it'll come. It'll come. And in the meantime, I'm— I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. If anything happens again they'll pull me back out. If anything happens again the voices will help, I just have to wait. Nothing that hurts me will last. And if it does, well, can hardly be worse than the damn cockpit. Survived that, I can survive anything. I'm surviving. I survived it. I got out, they pulled me out. I'm out. I'm safe. From— from the fire, anyways. Can't win 'em all. Not yet. But I will. I will. I'll get away and I will be bloody fucking safe and comfortable for the rest of my damn life because I have fucking earned it.)

...

Okay.

Okay, I mean it this time. I'm—

I'm all right.

Thank you, Mum. Thank you all of you who saw me through the past few shitty days. They're over and we can keep moving on. One day, then the next. Each one maybe a little better than the last. Cheers.

#mouthwashing #captain curly #curly mouthwashing #curlyposting #anya mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #kind words

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megumismyhusband · 26 days ago

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Hey riu, um, hi... Big fan... heh.....

soooo this is gonna get a little crazy and this is my first ask and I'm kinda scared (having social anxiety ON social media is not for the weak) BUT I have a point to make with this little story (cuz it's basically all abt you... Duh.)

ANYWAY so I've been following you ... I think basically since I made this blog (in like November) or just since I downloaded Tumblr in general, so you and your content has been BIG on my feed for the past six months. BUT as of recent with some of your phantom busters posts, I kinda-sorta looked into the manga and thought, "huh! This seems pretty cewl. Maybe I'll get into it someday soon."

Obv that hasnt happened yet, but that's the important part😈

Literally like five minutes ago, I was scrolling on the the good ol' Tok and whaddya know! A video abt the phantom busters promotional video and their jp voice actors!

so I start watching it, and the video goes through the four silly little mc guys and then the va's names, including other characters they've voiced, and so on.

They show the first guy (the MC of the four MCs I believe, mogari) and his promo is okamoto nobuhiko. This video is already blessing me with THE GOAT HIMSELF (he's Bakugo from mha, uhhhh genya from demon slayer, etc. LOVE the man)

Then they get to the next guy. Ummm OH the cutie with green hair, kotaro. His va also voices Kirishima from mha AND porco from aot. I'm not that familiar with this voice actor, but cewl! I love Kirishima<3

But here's where it gets interesting and where the synchronicity comes in...

Side note, I am a SLUT for getting to know voice actors and their roles. You give me a name, dub or sub (mostly dub), and I can list at least five roles they've filled. Even from animes I haven't even seen.

But, like I just said, mostly dub. so I'm not as familiar with Japanese voice actors. Only a handful (since Im mostly a dub watcher DONT HATE ME)

So, when I tell you, riu...... As Im listening to the promo of kotaro and that voice actor, something popped up in my head as I prepare myself for the next and third promo va + character. Here's what I said in my little walnut brain...

"hm... I wonder if Rin Itoshi's Japanese va is in here..."

Mind you, I literally was just pondering that. It was just one of those "oh, it would be pretty funny if this happened!" kind of moments, yk?

So riu, you beautiful specimen you, I KID YOU NOT WHEN THE VIDEO GETS TO THE NEXT CHARACTER (rather lovely looking gentleman... Whoa...), KAORU, GUESS WHO THE FUCK IS SPEAKING.

KOKI.

FUCKING.

UCHIYAMA.

...

THE Rin Itoshi's voice actor.

Rin has taken over my brain ever since I binged the first season of the anime AND the manga in August (within, like, less than a week mind you. That's how obsessed I got with blue lock)

But I'm very spiritual in the aspect of divine timing, so for me to basically THINK IT INTO EXISTENCE BEFORE ITS EVEN HAPPENED IS WILD TO ME.

So I know how crazy this sounds and ur prob like, "erm, excuse me follower, why are you telling me this?🤨"

1. Cuz it's a phantom busters video. phantom busters, a manga title I have ONLY EVER HEARD from YOUR lovely posts.

2. Koki Uchiyama. One of the handful of jp va's I know, who happens to voice the lovely football player BOTH of us love<3

And 3. ......... Okay I can't think of a number three BUT RIU PLS BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY ONLY YOU COULD HAVE BROUGHT ME THIS MAGICAL MOMENT. YOU, AND YOUR POSTS, HAVE WOVEN YOURSELVES INTO MY LIFE SO MUCH THAT IT HAS AFFECTED MY REALITY AND IS BASICALLY FORCING ME TO PICK UP THE MANGA NOW<3

Okay, rant officially over<3 PHEW that took a lot out of me (I'm scared of interacting w content creators I follow + look up to 💔)

Thank you for reading this tho, and idk if this is, like, customary to say, but I don't mind if you don't post this with a reply or not. I honestly just wanted to tell you this cuz it's crazy to me how much your posts and your blog alone have become so significant in my life<3 I look up to you a lot, especially as a writer with being a writer myself🩷

N-E-WAY HAVE A GOOD DAY/EVENING/NIGHT OR WHENEVER YOU'RE READING THIS!!

(here's the link to the tiktok if you want it, it's actually a rlly good video<3: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8j46osp/

WAIT NO WAY THIS JS SO COOL HELLO!?!? OMG EHAUAU STOP IM LIKE GIGGLING RN THATS AWESOME

also like ily tysm im so glad u like my work😋

BRO BRO BRO IT ACTUALLY MAKES SO MUCH SENSE LIKE RIN AND KAORU HEHSHS WTF THEYRE LOWK SO ODDLY ALIKE?? (call me crazy for this but wtv)

this is actually so cool! anyway i love phantom busters so so much!

TY FOR SENDING ME THIS!

#ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ riuozz replies

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ndconceptarchive · 4 months ago

Text

Unlocked! The Nancy Drew Podcast 001

Scott Carty | Episode 001

Nov 4, 2016

We've been making transcripts of the various videos on the Her Interactive YouTube channel, and one that will be a continued series is for the official Nancy Drew Podcast up on their channel. They regularly interviewed people involved with the making of these games.

Click on the link above for the podcast itself.

Some notes on the episode:

Scott Carty is the voice actor of the one and only Ned Nickerson.

There is some cool information as to what the process of voice acting was like for these games.

Scott Carty originally met Megan Gaiser (the CEO of Her Interactive at the time) at a neighbor's dinner party prior to the release of Message in a Haunted Mansion

Tammy Tucky (TT): Well, detectives, welcome to Unlocked, the official podcast for all things Nancy Drew. I'm your host Tammy Tucky, and we welcome the voice behind Nancy Drew's boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, voice-over artist Scott Carty to the show.

Scott Carty (SC): Tammy, how are you?

TT: I'm very, very excited. That's what I am right now. I think all the girls, think Ned is the perfect boyfriend. So the fact that I'm speaking with Ned today is really exciting.

SC: Well, as the guy who's lucky enough to play Ned Nickerson, I tell you, it gives me some real bragging points to be able to say that I'm Nancy Drew's boyfriend. You know, Ned does have a little bit of a bone to pick because he never gets to go on the adventures. He always has to just stay back at home and be there at Nancy's beck and call.

TT: Yeah, that's actually one of my questions. You would love to see Ned be shown physically in a representation in the game and actually help Nancy.

SC: I think it would be great if Ned finally got invited to go on a trip.

TT: Where do you think he would most like to go if they had to choose a specific place out of the entire world with Nancy?

SC: Oh boy, that's good. I don't know. I think there are a lot of similarities that I have with Ned, and I think Ned would want to go to Ireland. I think he’d want to go to some sort of dark and rainy place and truck around amidst a lot of history.

TT: He seems very mellow, and it seems like a very quaint area to just sit back relax and and enjoy the people. I think he's more of a people person. SC: He could sit and have tea and just wait for Nancy to come back to the hotel.

TT: Well when they when they offered the part to you because originally… I guess we should take a step back.

Originally you were in Message in a Haunted Mansion as Charlie Murphy, who was one of the construction workers helping rebuild this mansion in San Francisco. So they brought you back for future games. But first, you were cast as Charlie. When did you hear about the initial call for being a voice in the games?

SC: You know, the weirdest thing about this whole deal is that when I when I first got that opportunity with Message in a Haunted Mansion, it was the result of going to a neighbors house for a dinner party.

And prior to that, I wanted to do voice over and character work and I wanted to do commercials and my focus was on writing. I was kind of behind the scenes and I worked among a bunch of old radio voices.

(*uses a deeper exaggerated voice*) You know, these were the big radio voices that talk like this all the time. And I've always just kind of been a regular voice. So it was tough to crack into that arena.

At this dinner party, was one of these pivotal moments in my career. I met this woman [Megan Gaiser], and she was the CEO of Her Interactive. We were talking and she said, “what do you do?”

And it was that moment where I said and I declared it to myself (and to someone else) “I'm a voice actor.” And she said, “oh my gosh, that'd be interesting. You should get in touch with so and so and so that's what happened.” Then I got the call and you know, Charlie was just regular old Charlie, very similar to Ned. I think if you can go back and listen to any of his stuff. It was just sort of,

“Hi, I'm Charlie.” It was a really cool opportunity and I remember going in the studio [and thinking] this is what I love.

TT: How did they introduce the character to you? Did they show you visuals of what they were aiming to work on with the computer animation? Or did they say, well, let's get a voice first and then we'll build the image around that?

SC: That's a great question. I honestly don't really recall with Charlie Murphy, I don't ever remember seeing a visual. I do remember seeing a visual of Ned Nickerson. You know, if you put it side by side, there's a striking resemblance dun dun dun.

So I don't know, a lot of the animators (on this project, but [also] through animation in general) they go through and they they pull from the person who's doing the character when they're creating what that character looks like. And you see that in animated movies all the time. But on this one, I don't recall what Charlie Murphy [was supposed to look like], I just remember them saying, “he's just a good guy, and you know, keep it pretty simple. We don't want anything too forced.” TT: Did you get to meet the other voiceover actors or actresses during those sessions? SC: Typically no, because you're coming in and you're in the studio for probably an hour and a half, and the other people have already been in or out or aren't coming in yet.

So, I'm trying to think of who I've met. I think I met the woman who played Nancy Drew many, many years ago, but that was it.

There was one thing that they invited me to that I went to and it was crazy. It was sort of a release party, but they did it with a group of kids. And so they had all these kids that were actually playing the game because it was kind of a user experience. They wanted to see how people were doing it.

And as kids were playing, I would walk up and go, “hi guys.” There was this this surreal experience to see them playing the game, hearing my voice, and then all of a sudden I come over their shoulder and they hear the voice again, but it's actually coming out of the mouth of this guy standing behind them.

So I mean, that was a lot of fun. And that was one of those moments where it's like, alright, this is kind of a magical thing I get to do now.

TT: Now with Charlie, were you told who was the murderer or the the bad guy by the end of the game or were you told ahead of time? SC: No, no, they never, they never will reveal that sort of stuff to us because.I don't know if you knew that. I don't know that you could do the character justice honestly. They want you to get the character as the characters going through the story. So it's just like you, the person playing the game receives it. You know, they don't want me giving you any extra tips that may reveal it.

They want me to just be who that character is. So when I [went in] for Charlie, I don't think I had a whole bunch of interaction.

I'll usually have somebody on the other side of the glass that will be reading back to me and sometimes will interact with me just so that I've got something to pick up off of.

But with Ned Nickerson, most of it's just between Nancy. So I have a lot of those voice prompts where I hear Nancy say something and I go, “It's ok, Nancy, why don't you think about going around the corner and checking out that phone…” and whatever the clues are, but I don't know where it's gonna go.

One of the things I like about the character of Ned is that I get to [play] the part of a guy who is very supportive of a very smart, confident woman, you know? And I think that's what's so great about these games. You got Nancy Drew, who can get into all these crazy situations, but she figures her way through them, and she is smart and can navigate it (much to the chagrin of Ned sometimes).

I mean, he can be that worried boyfriend or maybe slightly jealous. But it never is a situation where he doubts her confidence.

TT: Have you played all the games you were featured in?

SC: You know, I will admit that I have not. I guess I’m trying to recall, I think there are probably close to 20 games that I've been on. And it's kind of, I don't know, one of those things.

I don't wanna get to know the process of the game too much, if that makes any sense to you. I want to be a little bit naive to it. That way I can just do the character and get the parts, and let those parts stand on their own so that I'm not trying to out think myself. TT: I love that they gave you a chance to play two other different characters, Sherman Trout in The Final Scene and Henry Albert Daddle in The Secret of the Scarlet Hand. Is there anything that you were not credited for that you got to voice and you'd like to mention now?

SC: Oh, good question. I think there was one session that we did. And I think [they just gave me] some little…We call them ‘wild lines’ where it's just random stuff that I'm muttering in the background and off mic. So it wouldn't really be identifiable to any particular character, I don't think. I mean, it's just so much fun to be a part of that and to know how people receive it.

Like when you're talking about going through and playing it just as a fan, it is just so cool to hear about. I was tipped off to the fact of how people post YouTube videos where they play the game to try to share clues.

I had no idea such a thing existed many years ago until I walked into my daughter's daycare and I'm carrying my daughter in. And all of a sudden, her daycare teacher looks at me. He goes, “good morning, Ned Nickerson.” And I'm like, what? This is a grown man. I think he was probably in his late 20s or so. I said, “how do you know about that?”

“Because we play”, (he and his wife), “We play those games all the time”. I said, “really?” And he goes, “yeah”. And he goes, “We were going through clues, it was on YouTube.” “Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?” “You gotta go check it out on YouTube and just go search, ‘Ned Nickerson.’” And I did. And it was, I'll admit, slightly horrifying to me because you're sitting there watching these people playing the game and going, “oh, Ned, oh, Nickerson.” It was so funny.

TT: If we were to talk to Ned now, what does Ned think is the perfect type of date to take Nancy out onto (because we really don't get to see Nancy outside of her mystery work)? So what do you think Nancy would like to do with the Ned if they had a date night?

SC: Oh wow, you want Ned to bring the romance right now, huh? The writers at Her Interactive do such a good job with all of this. But, I will say if I were to take that on and say I'm Ned Nickerson, and I wanna plan a date for Nancy, I would do this.

“Nancy. Here's what I wanna do. Let's go to a map store. And explore some maps. And then we're gonna go to a bookstore and we're gonna find a new book for you to read. After that, we'll go grab lunch. (This is gonna be a long day, by the way) Go grab lunch and take it to the park. Now you're gonna need that map, Nancy. Because in that park is a clue.” And then I would take her on the scavenger hunt.

It would be great if I could take Nancy to Central Park in New York. We would have a scavenger hunt.

TT: I think you're onto a storyline here. If we bring Ned in and he starts a scavenger hunt which actually leads to a real mystery.

SC: See that way, I'm actually in the same city with her and it leads to a real mystery unbeknownst to Ned, because Ned just sort of stepped into it again. Let's see if we can make it viral.

TT: Yes, please. That would be a lot of fun. I love watching some of the people play the games as well too, because it's really cool to see everybody's different experiences with it.

For a long time, I had no idea that there were a lot of other people who love these games too. It's really nice. It's like a really, really lovely fandom and there's boys, girls, all different ages, so it's wonderful to have that legacy continue. And you and you were a part of it.

SC: It's been really crazy. I mean, it's neat that you bring that up, and I appreciate that. You know, as I told you, the story at the beginning of how I just sort of stumbled into that role, but then it kept going and going and going and it was sort of every year they would call me and I get to do more.

So just to be a part of that and to know to really know what the company was about with Her Interactive, the fact that they were creating content that wasn't really at the time (back in the late 90s- early 2000s) wasn't really available to girls, and I remember when they explained that to me. Megan Geyser was the CEO at the time. I was like, that's awesome. I'm totally on board with that. That's even before I was a father of a girl. So, now to know that it's out there is really, really cool. It's cool to be a part of now.

TT: What do your kids think about you being that Ned? Do they know?

SC: *jokingly* I keep it a secret from them.

TT: Have they played the games? SC: My daughter's now 12. I'm looking at the whole stack of them on my shelf here in my studio. I think that it would be kind of fun to pull them out and let her explore them, and just not really tell her anything about it and see what happens.

TT: And, you have other projects too, I have to add. So why don't you tell us about your Facebook page, of course, your website, and what your most current project is at the moment? SC: Well, you know, part of what I mentioned, [with the story at the beginning] of speaking up and saying, what you are and what you want to do, that you have to be able to to vocalize your dreams and your passions.

This was an example of where that started, as I went through my career as a writer, as a creative director and doing radio commercials and all of that. One of things I always wanted to do was to be on TV. I did some TV training in college, but I was always told I look too young, which is a good thing to have. It allowed me to get some experience until I finally started to look a little bit older. And people still tell me I look young. I appreciate that.

But what I finally did is, I said I wanna go to TV and that got me into doing TV entertainment. Now I am a freelance entertainment correspondent and so I'm a journalist. I get to fly all around the country and sit down with movie stars and, and talk with a lot of them, including a lot of animated projects, which is great. That's some of my favorite stuff when we're talking about voice work.

So I do that for a TV station in Seattle, and I also contribute to a couple of other platforms. And yeah, there's a show coming up that I'm getting excited to announce and then I do my own show, which is called the Scott Carty Party. And it is a web show that I've just started and got a couple coming up here.

So the trials are sort of out of the way and it's just a chance where we sit down and chat with really interesting people. The next one in November that'll be doing will actually be deep down Voiceover Mastery Summit in Los Angeles, just outside of Hollywood. And I was just down there yesterday where we're gonna be sitting down with just an incredible selection of voices from so many different things.

We've got the two guys who play Ratchet and Clank, David Kay and James Arnold Taylor will be there Tara Strong EG daily Tommy Pickles from Rugrats. I got to meet her yesterday, you know, and then Melissa Disney.

She was your most recently heard to announce the Emmy Awards and this is all headed up by my really good friend Randy Thomas, who is she was the first woman to ever be the live announcer at the Academy Awards. She's done the Grammy, she does the Tony Awards every year. And so that's gonna be really, really fun to do. We're gonna take the show down there, but I'll also be part of the panel and and people get to come attend that. So it's a real mixed bag of what I get to do, but it's pretty awesome. It's pretty fun.

TT: I will definitely be tuning in it.

TT: Will you be posting it on your facebook page? SC: I will in fact in fact I will have something on my Facebook page and you can find me on Facebook at Scott Hardy live at Carty and then on Twitter at at Scott Carty really tough to remember and then even more difficult is my website scottcardi.com.

It's hard to remember isn't it? Ohh very hard it's.

TT: I am. I'm having, I think I need to write this down just in case. Sure, you'll tweet it out for me.

SC: But, but yeah, so I'll have all of that listed. In fact, I have a link that I'll post that if people want to register, if they're in the Los Angeles area or they can make it really a variety of things. They can show up for the entire event.

They can be there for part of it, or they can come and just be part of the cocktail party.And the Scott Cardi party that we do at the end. TT: I can only Wish you the best of luck with everything and again, I can't wait to see your panel. I will include all the links that Scott has mentioned for our listeners below in the YouTube channel show notes and I I can't wait. I hope we get to have you back on the show to talk more about Ned and possible future mysteries he may or may not be involved with. So it was really a pleasure. SC: Thank you, Tammy. It's been really fun talking to you and I'm really I'm intrigued by your show. I think that what you're doing is awesome. You've got some great content there.

TT: Oh, you’re so sweet, I'd really like to thank you.

SC: It's fun being a part of a team. It's fun collaborating and in what I do and I know what you do, as a one man band on so many things, you have to cover everything. You've gotta do the writing and do the editing and do the posting and promote it and all of that with her interactive.

It's great because you're going in and you're part of a team and you've got writers who have spent an enormous amount of time creating the characters and storyline and it's all ready to go and then the audio producer that you get to work. With and you know, you get to go in and be a part of it and then it just magically happens. So it's been a really spectacular experience being a part of it.

TT: And if you could describe your experience working for her Interactive and being a part of the Nancy Drew universe. And one word, what would it be?

SC: Spectacular!

#it's locked podcast #podcast #interview #transcript #mhm #message in a haunted mansion #behind the scenes #nancy drew #nancy drew games #voice acting

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tiktaaliker · 9 months ago

Text

my thoughts on the stuff ive listened to during work; note that im not basing my reviews on how good the actual book is, its based on how my personal experience was to listen to the audiobook while working in the lab

Animorphs books 1-3: i read this series as a kid but only once, so i was familiar with the story enough to not get distracted but i had forgotten enough of the details to be kept engaged. Voice acting was fine, tolerable to listen to, character voices distinct enough to differentiate without being annoying (albiet with at least one exception). Biggest issue is length- since my shifts are 8 hours, i got through the first 3 books in a single shift, and the specific version i was listening to was split up into a handful of short parts each book so i kept having to switch to the next video, which was way too much of a momentum-stopper (and work interruption) to stick with this series specifically.

The Witcher books 1+2: eh. was fine enough. once again this was something i was familiar enough with to follow without having to worry too much about missing details, while also being somewhat entertaining. i think i liked it a lot better to read than to listen to. voice acting was fine. biggest issue was that i had finally gotten used to the narrator pronouncing dandelion as dan-DIL-leon for the first book but in the second book he switched to pronouncing it as DAN-dee-lion and i had to stop partway through because of it

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: i remember enjoying reading it a lot more than listening. Ill be the first to admit that im kind of picky about audiobook narration and this one just didnt hit right, but was overall a good experience. Voice acting was fine, and the actual story was very entertaining as expected. Perfectly acceptable.

Discworld books 1-2: extremely good listens. Voice acting was great, character voices were fun and fit the characters really well, only skirted the line of being annoying. fantastic story, but not too complicated or unfamiliar, so i could still follow and be entertained while still focusing on work. Will probably continue the series at some point, but giving myself a buffer period before i start up again to avoid series burnout

Malevolent parts 41-44 (catching up with the podcast lol): man. theres just something about listening to a guy getting gutted and filled with maggots while working in the lab of a hospital. like broooo you are going to get sepsis!!! Very good listen, as expected, just kinda funny trying to keep a straight face while talking to coworkers and simultaneously listening to arthur's no good very bad day

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell: probably the best one so far for what im using these for. The length meant i was able to spend like 4 whole shifts on the one audiobook. Footnotes were incorporated fantastically, narrator and voice acting was phenomenal, and its also pretty much my favorite book of all time. Ive read this SEVERAL times, but because of how fucking huge this thing is theres a lot of details i forgot about or misremembered. Only issue is that it was split up into several audio tracks, so i had to switch to the next one a few times per shift. They were each around 2 hours long however, so it wasnt too inconvenient. Also at one point i fucked up and accidentally skipped like 8 whole hours without realizing until after an hour in where they referenced an event i KNEW i hadnt gotten to yet lol

Catch-22: man they really went all fucking OUT on the voice acting here. All characters are EXTREMELY distinct, so im very easily able to tell who's talking even without speaking tags. One of my pet peeves in audiobooks is when the narrator whisper-yells when a character is meant to be screaming. That does not happen here. Narrator fucking COMMITS. Yelling, sobbing, laughing, all of it. Fucking fantastic. Phenomenal as an audiobook, i think i mightve even enjoyed it even better than actually reading it.

Slaughterhouse-five: man. this one is ALSO an audiobook that is fucking PHENOMENAL. biggest problem is that i got WAYYY too into it. I really needed to just sit down and soak it in, which was not very condusive to a workplace environment. I now have a self-imposed limit where im not going to be listening to any more vonnegut books from now on because i KNOW itll have a similar affect

His majesty's dragon: this one couldve been good, but the recording i found was not. The guy reading it did a big spiel at the beginning of each chapter and kept adding unneeded commentary like it was a middle school read along. Im going to be getting a library card today so i can use libby, so i might come back to this once i get access to an actual official audiobook lol

murder on the orient express: nope. barely lasted three minutes into this one

percy jackson and the lightning thief: see this is an example of something ive actually read too many times as a kid so i know the book too well for an audiobook to be entertaining. Dropped it after less than a chapter.

the kane chronicles: had potential, i remember liking the story a lot as a kid but i hadnt read it nearly as much as the pjo series, and i think it wouldve been at least vaguely entertaining. However, half the book has one of the narrator sdoing a really bad british accent for his sister's voicelines and i just couldnt do it. i didnt have the strength. Dropped after maybe 4 chapters.

Camp Damascus: the only audiobook of the lot that i actually bought, and the first one i got through that i hadnt read the physical book before. Interesting story, ok voice acting. Solid choice to listen to. Not quite what i was expecting, but pretty good story! Had some EXTREMELY gnarly descriptions of body horror thrown in at like. two points of the story maybe. Didnt really affect me personally but kinda threw me off in a 'this feels like a different story entirely' sort of way. Dont have much else to say here since these reviews are more talking about my experience with these as audiobooks specifically, and i havent read the book itself to be able to compare this one.

#howling #long post #these are arranged mostly in order of when i listened #you might be able to notice at what point i started getting desperate to find something good to put on lol

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