#Sample sound review
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krazetv · 2 months ago
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Epic World - Cinematic Landscapes by Eduardo Tarilonte | Playthrough
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californiaquail · 1 month ago
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i really wanted to go into this perfume house that was supposed to be open but had a sign on the door saying they'd be back at noon every time i checked (three times) (after noon) 😒
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sctir · 2 months ago
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does anyone want a rannie reviews (fragrances edition)
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thethingything · 2 years ago
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I absolutely feel you, I have samples coming of five different zoologist perfumes and its absolutely tragic they're so expensive.
if you're looking for a cheap(er) brand, my favourite so far is Imaginary Authors, and their full bottles are $95. at the moment a city on fire is my staple perfume, I even got a full bottle. (their packaging looks like a book its fantastic)
- 🪲
oh I remember you mentioning Imaginary Authors last time and I meant to look into them but forgot. that's definitely a more affordable price if we end up liking some of them.
City on Fire sounds really nice from the description on Lucky Scent, and I'm kind of tempted by Saint Julep and Fox in the Flowerbed too. also, I love the more unusual notes they have listed on some of them, like first kiss and stardust
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jowelhossen · 6 months ago
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Sony WH-1000XM5 Review | The Best Wireless Noise Cancelling Headphone 2024
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Key features Sony WH-1000XM5
SPATIAL AUDIO HEADPHONES: Bose Quiet Comfort Ultra Headphones with spatial audio give you an immersive experience that makes music feel more real.
Read Full Review>>
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eyes-on-the-weather · 1 year ago
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since i left you by the avalanches is such an album for everyone to listen to. like, if you’re only familiar with plunderphonics through the most memetic of mashups, or not even that much, you should really listen to this to get a great idea of just what can be done with sampling, the value of old samples, the skill involved in good plunderphonics/turntabilism. for people who are more in the mashup scene, listened to the mouth albums or follow some tourneys, this album is still really good to listen to because of its more experimental/house sound, like in live at dominoes, electricity, and stay another season. and some of the tracks are just plain good times- i have to mention the funky turntabilism of frontier psychiatrist & radio. if you don’t have in you a big love for Music with a capital m, maybe this is the album that’ll do it for you; if you already do, listen to something thoroughly unique to maybe awaken something more in you
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reckonslepoisson · 1 year ago
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The Night Before the Death of the Sampling Virus, Otomo Yoshihide (1993)
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Otomo Yoshihide’s The Night Before the Death of the Sampling Virus unnervingly assembles monochrome urban dystopia out of very real, present, recognisable audial environments. As an experience it is filmic and can be interpreted as flitting between scenes and spaces; rooms of the dying, of violence, of madness, of fucking and of serenity, environs still but for the monotonous drone of TV or radio. It is impossible to turn one’s ears away from. 
Pick: ‘Nintendo’
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jade-curtiss · 1 year ago
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I think she just want me to redeem her, not morally, but people deserves peace. Her son couldn't (not skill issue, the vibe is just like i mean...unless it's for jokes because they both are good but complete opposite approach (not in a lol country lol metal kind of thing. Ironically no, the problem with melodist metalers is that all believe their name is wolfgang or something, buf it's not and the kid would have been too angry to pay attention)
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doyoulikethissong-poll · 9 months ago
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M.I.A. - Paper Planes 2008
"Paper Planes" is a song by British hip hop artist M.I.A. It was released on 11 February 2008 as the third single from her second studio album, Kala (2007). It samples English rockband the Clash's 1982 song "Straight to Hell", leading to its members being credited as co-writers. A downtempo alternative hip hop, pop track combining African folk music elements, the song has a less dance-oriented sound compared to other songs on the album. Its lyrics, inspired by M.I.A.'s own problems obtaining a visa to work in the USA, satirise American perceptions of immigrants from war-torn countries, and said that the issue was probably "them thinking that I might to [sic] fly a plane into the Trade Center".
M.I.A. had wanted to work with American producer Timbaland for the album Kala, but her application for a long-term US work visa was rejected. This was allegedly due to her family's connection to the Tamil guerrillas, commonly known as the Tamil Tigers, a claim M.I.A. denied. Her visa problems were also attributed to her criticism of the Sri Lankan government's discrimination and alleged atrocities committed against the Tamils, with whom M.I.A. shares an ethnic and cultural heritage. She expressed this on her politicised debut album Arular. The unexpected success of "Paper Planes" paralleled M.I.A.'s condemnations of the Sri Lankan government's war crimes against the Tamils, generating accusations that she supported terrorism.
The song received widespread acclaim from contemporary critics, who complimented its musical direction and the subversive, unconventional subject matter. It won awards from the Canadian Independent Music Awards and the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (ASCAP), and earned a Grammy nomination for Record of the Year. The song has received praise in publications such as NME, Pitchfork and Rolling Stone, each naming it among either the best songs of the 2000s decade or of all time. The review aggregator Acclaimed Music reports it as the second-most acclaimed song of the 21st century.
"Paper Planes" was used in the theatrical trailer for the 2008 stoner comedy Pineapple Express, directed by David Gordon Green, which catapulted the song to mainstream success in the US. "Paper Planes" and the DFA remix appear on the soundtrack to Danny Boyle's drama Slumdog Millionaire, released in 2008. The video game Far Cry 3 (2012) begins with "Paper Planes" used in the opening cinematic sequence.
"Paper Planes" received a total of 68,9% yes votes!
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krazetv · 1 year ago
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THE SCORE by Sonuscore & BestService | Review & Playthrough
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beesmygod · 1 year ago
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in an astounding twist of fate, im looking into what is actually going on with google adsense. they're in hot fucking water right now actually.
this summer, an enormous and scathing review by adalytics (an independent media research website) came out criticizing google for a myriad of things which could be politely summed up as "fraud". we're talking like. theye were taking money to serve ads on pages that got 0 views regularly. thats not what people pay for lol.
as a result google mysteriously issued some refunds (""credits"", because "refunds" sounds bad) but insists it was all normal. adexchanger has a summary of an adage.com article
Google vehemently denies the report’s findings and that the credits are in any way related. “Issuing credits to advertisers is not uncommon,” a Google spokesperson says, adding that “Adalytics used a flawed methodology to make wildly inaccurate claims about GVP.”
so over the last four or so months, google has been making core updates to its adsense network with, apparently, very little warning to the people using it. and everyone's numbers tanked. hard. oct 2023 appears to have been esp brutal. both the search engine journal and lily ray from amsive, apparently a huge name in marketing, released reports that are completely nuts. the lily ray one is esp detailed and has a timeline of updates
73% of overall respondents indicated that they have seen their Google Discover traffic drop to 0 during the past 3 months. Among websites that lost Discover traffic, the most common complaints were dramatic traffic declines; dropping to 0 impressions and clicks; extreme percentage decreases in clicks ranging from 50-99%, and massive losses in revenue from AdSense and other ad networks.
50 to 99%?! yeah that's a small sample size but that's a fucking hell of a swing and a trend.
according to the search engine journal google appears to be saying "well, we''ll see what we can do" the same way that you would say "let me look in the back" when you know full and well its not in the back. like this reads to me as "them's the breaks". which is uhh. i think a really big problem.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago
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compos mentis 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: ookay here we go with this guy.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The restaurant is buzzing with voices. It adds the disorienting ripple in your head. It feels like there’s something crawling over your scalp as you try to blink away the haziness. It’s just fatigue. That never goes away, only ebbs and flows. 
You sit on the leather cushion of the curled bench. The booth is lit by a small chandelier hanging above and the plucking of strings strums under the drone of patrons. The sconces against the wall are blurry and bright and the people all around are merely shadows. 
The server appears and doles out the food. You got the butternut squash soup with a French bread roll. With the weather turning chill, it sounded delicious. Besides, you don’t have the stomach for anything heavy. 
You glance over at Andy’s thick sirloin and your mother’s glazed chicken. Your hunger roars in your stomach. You shakily unwrap the cutlery from the cloth napkin and thank the server as your mother taps her glass. The man, in his pressed white shirt, smiles and pours her some more. Andy clicks his tongue but says nothing. 
“Anyone else?” The server offers. 
“We’re good,” Andy answers for both of you. 
You could laugh, if you had the energy. Anyone would look at you and know you shouldn’t be indulging. No, you have your lemon water and that’s good enough. 
“This looks delicious,” your mother chirps and takes a gulp of chardonnay, a hum at the flavour. “Oh, that is divine too.” 
“I hope you enjoy. Both of you,” Andy says. “I know you had a busy day.” 
His elbow touches yours, almost as if it’s intentionally. You look at his shoulder but no higher. You steady the spoon over the bowl and dip it into the soup. You lean forward to taste as your mouth jabs into one of the slices of grilled chicken. 
“Mm, the maple is nice but a bit much,” she complains after a sampling. 
Andy exhales slowly, measuring his breath as if to conceal his sigh. It’s strange. He seems annoyed by your mother more often than not and yet he takes her out for dinner and got her that fancy ring. You don’t understand relationships. Not past the shallow ones written onto the screen. You probably won’t ever know the real thing. 
You rest your spoon on the wide brim and take a piece of the bread. It’s still warm and it smells wonderful. You pinch off a morsel and dip it into the creamy broth. You nibble on it, resisting the urge to shovel it down. 
“You sure the soup’s enough?” Andy asks. Again. He questioned you when you ordered an appetizer over and entree. He even offered to get an appetizer for the table instead. 
“Oh, sweetie,” your mother swallows around her words. “You know she doesn’t eat very much. Her stomach is so sensitive. And look, that’s such a lot of soup. She probably won’t even finish the bread.” 
You nod. You could gobble it all down but you know better. You’ve been sick before from letting your appetite deceive your mind. She’s right. You’ll be full soon enough. Your stomach always starts to ache after a few bites. 
“Ah, sorry. I don’t mean to pester. I just want to make sure you have everything you like. If you wanted a piece of my steak, I think there’s a lot more than I need here,” he chuckles and cuts into the sirloin. 
“Oh, she can’t have red meat. Too heavy for her,” your mother tuts. “Really, Andrew, you are so sweet to offer though.” 
“Yes, thanks,” you murmur as you squish bread between your fingers. You’re suddenly very conscious of every bite you take. 
“So, any more doctor’s appointments?” He asks. “I could come along next time? Since we’re gonna be one big family. I’d like to help out if I can. All this work shouldn’t be on you, Danica.” 
“Oh, my,” your mother slurps more wine. “You really are a dream,” she touches his sleeve. “That would be wonderful. Nothing this week though. Just next month but she does need her script filled. If you don’t mind getting that, it would be a great help.” 
You want to shrink into a speck of dust. You hate it. You’re rarely ever included in conversation. Not for real. You’re only ever the topic of discussion, like you’re not even there. 
“Mom, I told you,” you insist and wipe soup from your oxygen tube. “I can go get it. It isn’t very far.” 
“No, no, no. I told you before. You cannot take the bus. It’s absolutely out of the question. You could get caught on something or worse, you could fall.” 
“Hm, that’s... she’s an adult, Danica, if she wanted to--” 
“Andrew, you don’t know the risks. I do.” 
He opens his mouth then shuts it. His lips thin as he holds back his retort. He saws into the steak. 
“Well,” he looks at you, “if you’d like to come along, I can always drive you.” 
“I can just do it myself,” your mom insists sharply. 
“Relax,” he warns. “She wants to do it herself, she can. She’s not entirely helpless, is she?” 
You chew your lip. Your mother has that look. The dangerous one. Andy’s never seen what it can truly lead to. 
“Whatever is less trouble,” you utter and focus on your soup. “Sorry.” 
“Sorry for what?” Andy challenges, “you did nothing.” 
You nod and take another spoonful. It’s really good but you can’t truly enjoy it. You just want to go home. Away from these strangers. Home where you can be alone. Where you can put some walls between you and your mom. You know you’ve already ruined her night just by being there. 
🩷
Your mother almost finishes the bottle. That’s not unusual but since she met Andy, it’s less frequent. As you leave the restaurant, she’s leaning heavily on him, her heels click unevenly as one shoe keeps slipping loose. You follow, clutching tight the handle of your tank. 
You stop by the SUV as your mother purrs and wraps her arm around Andy. She squeezes his butt and you look away, slowing as you try not to intrude. He flinches and pushes her away, clearing his throat. 
“Danica,” he girds quietly, “please, not here. You’re drunk.” 
“I’m not, I feel good,” she slurs. 
Embarrassment scalds across your chest and down your spine. You never wanted anyone else to see her like this. You know it’s not her fault. It’s yours. She’s stressed from taking care of you and gets a little carried away trying to unwind. 
“You’re all over,” Andy gets her to the passenger door as she staggers clumsily, “come on.” 
He angles her around with one arm around her back and opens the door. He gets her into the seat as she giggles and her hand flutters down his shirt. He pulls away as he catches her hand before she can get any lower. You linger by the back of the car and act like you’re not watching. 
He mutters but you can’t make out his words. He clicks the seat belt around your mom and slams the door. You wince and the wheel of your tank squeaks. He sighs and his shadow turns to you. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he opens the backdoor, “come on. I’ll get you two home.” 
You nod and come forward, head and shoulders down. “Thanks,” you drag your tank with you, “sorry.” 
“Sorry, for?” He wonders. 
You sniff and shake your head. You don’t know how to answer. How do you explain the truth to him?
“Here,” he reaches for your tank as you say nothing. “Let me help.” 
You have to keep from crying out and reach to shove him away. You’re overly protective. You have to be. That’s what keeps you going and you’re just not used to other people touching it. He lifts it as he nudges you gently. 
You grab the side of the door and haul yourself up. You heave as you fall into the seat, light-head and he fits the tank in in front of you. He reluctantly lets it go and tickles your knee. 
“You okay?” He asks. 
You watch his hand. You nod and grab the seat belt, “fine.” 
“Hmm, I should probably look into some more accessible, huh?” 
“No, no,” you protest weakly. “I manage.” 
“Well, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have to just manage. You should be comfortable. That’s why I took your case.” He brings his hand up and surprises you as he brushes your cheek. You twitch. “You like dinner?” 
“Yes, sir,” you answer and flatten yourself to the seat. “Thank you.” 
He hums and tickles your skin before he recoils. He draws back and grabs the door. He gently shuts it as his eyes cling to you. Your heart is racing. You’re breathless yet that isn’t so unusual. 
He gets in the front seat and your mother babbles and reaches for him again. He swats her back and starts the car. She mutters and slumps into the door. 
“Danica,” he says. She doesn’t respond. He repeats it louder. She snorts. He curses under his breath. You’re happy she passed out, it’s worse when she doesn’t. 
You sit in silence as Andy backs out of the space. He looms rigidly as you shrink as small as you can. Usually, he’s nice. He has this way about him that you assume comes from being a lawyer. He makes himself approachable. But not right now. He’s agitated. You can feel it fuming off of him. 
“I’m sorry,” you eke out as the tension strangles you. 
“You don’t need to apologise for her,” he insists with another sigh. 
“But... she drinks because of me. I know.” You say. “Because I’m sick.” 
He clucks and squeezes the wheel tighter. “No, that’s a bad excuse. She’s an adult.” 
You don’t argue. There’s no reason too. For once, someone isn’t blaming you. Besides, how far did it ever get you. 
He drives on and you turn to watch the dark buildings pass outside the window. The moon is a sliver above and the stars a speckle around the wisps of clouds. You stare up into the expanse, admiring the streaks of dark blue, black, and grey. 
As the car slows, you tear your eyes from the sky. You blink in confusion. You’re not at your house, but Andy’s. You’ve been there once before.  
He shuts the engine off then sits back and spreads his hand across his forehead, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I just realised I’m at the wrong house.” 
You stay silent. You thought your mom was asleep. He turns to look at you as he flicks on the compartment light. You squint at the sudden brightness. He means you. 
“Do you need anything at your house?” He asks. “Medicine or...” 
“It’s... in my pack,” you touch the belt bag across your stomach. “Tank’s mostly full.” 
He nods and looks you over, “I’m sorry. It’s been a long night. You don’t mind the guest room?” 
You shake your head. You don’t want to make his life any harder. And he should apologise to you. No one does that. They don’t owe you that. 
“Alright, again, I know it’s not easy for you. Probably a lot cozier at home,” he turns straight and shuts off the light. “Let me get your mom inside.” 
He unbuckles his seat belt and his keys jingle as he opens his door. You click the button on your belt and pull the handle. You push outward and the door is pulled from the other side. Andy appears in front of you. He helps get your tank to the ground and offers his hand. 
You don’t want to be rude so you let him help you down. You wheel around your tank as he shuts the door, the opens the passenger side. He ducks into the car and drags your mom out. He stands straight and shuts the door with his elbow. 
“Sorry to ask but could you unlock the door? Code is...” he gives you the numbers and you blink as you try to keep track of them. 
“Okay,” you nod and shuffle past him as he waits. You go up the walk and lift your tank up the low stone steps. You’re overly aware of him behind you. 
You get to the door and stare at the keypad. As you enter the numbers, you realise they’re familiar. It must be a coincidence. In a certain format, they would denote your birthday. The pad flashes green and the door clicks. 
You push down the lever and step back out of the way. 
“Go on,” he nods. 
“No, it’s okay,” you say. “Mom needs to lay down.” 
He looks down at the woman in his arms then at you. Even in the dark, you see his disappointment. Again, you can’t help but wonder why he puts up with her. You have no choice, as she has no choice in taking care of you, but he does. 
“You’re a good daughter,” he says as he slowly steps past you. 
You trail after him, your tank bouncing through the door, and you shut it behind you. You stand on the mat and roll your wheels back and forth, trying to get the excess dirty from them. Then you sit to take off your shoes. 
“You can turn on a light,” Andy chuckles as his shadow looms over you.  
You stare up at his silhouette. He’s close. He must not realise it in the dark. You turn and flip the switch.  
He smiles as he keeps a hold of your mom, “I’ll put her on the couch for now,” he says, “then I’ll get you settled.” 
You nod and bend to move your shoes onto the rack. You don’t look up again. You’re hot. Very hot, even though cool air flows from the vent just across from you. It’s just because you’re used to being at home. That’s it. 
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ckret2 · 8 days ago
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Do you think Bill would like 100 gecs and/or hyperpop?
sometimes I get asked "would Bill like [music]?"—usually about music that's outside of what I've already said he seems to like—and I feel like the majority of the logic behind those questions is "this sounds Weird™, and Bill is Weird, so therefore, I think he should like it."
I've got a very detailed post—plus multiple expansions on it—about what music Bill seems to like based on canon. Outside of LITERALLY non-musical sounds like rising shepherd tones, all evidence suggests his tastes are pretty mainstream: popular 40s~60s music like jazz, motown, and garage rock; and popular dance/club music, seemingly from the 90s onward.
Bill is the Joker "to men like me, Crazy Train is about a normal train" meme. He's a trillion-year-old alien; I'd suspect that to him, "weird human music" probably doesn't even register as weird music, merely human music, which is all equally weird by virtue of being alien to him (or perhaps equally non-weird, by virtue of being so small-mindedly human). Musically pushing the envelope is still well within the bounds of Shit Humans Listen To to him. A guy who considers rising shepherd tones musical isn't going to think extreme distortion or heavily processed vocals are remarkable.
(I think the fact that one of the faux reviews of TBOB is from Weird Al going "this is too weird for me, I'm just Normal Al now" says something about just how far Bill sits outside of even "weird" human musicians' concepts of normalcy.)
So for him to like hyperpop, it'd have to stand on its own merits as the kind of music he'd already like rather than getting a special VIP pass just for being weird.
And when you discount the "hyper," hyperpop is pop. Pop of many genres, but still pop. It's got bits of hip hop and bits of dance and bits of metal and bits of punk—and when it sounds like dance music, he might like it based on its merits as dance music.
But because of its shifting nature, with a lot of artists and in a lot of songs, it doesn't tend to remain dance music very long. It's dance for 20 seconds and then it's heavy screamo and then it's a capella with a drum track consisting of clapping and then it's dubstep for 15 seconds finally we can dance to this again and then it's ska and then it's a kawaii J-pop love song but in English and then it's the THX sound. Bill's only intrigued for the non-consecutive 38 seconds that it's dance, dubstep, and the THX sound.
And we can't discount the fact that he finds (some) synth music painful. Since he seems fine with modern EDM, I think it's probably particularly-80s-sounding synth music that's the problem—but since hyperpop stylistically samples so widely, I'd imagine danger synths aren't off the table. So there's that risk too, even if it's a small one.
On top of that? A lot of the genre runs on "cutesy sounding, angsty lyrics." I think Bill's neutral on cutesy sounding, but I think he's disgusted by angsty lyrics. As if HE'D play that whiny mopey spineless junk! He's a PARTY GUY, he's a FUN GUY, he's ALWAYS HAPPY, and NOTHING EVER BOTHERS HIM! When he's eight substances deep into a wild bender/party he doesn't wanna hear a song about using 4loko as a coping mechanism to hide your depression/anxiety! When he's being Haunted By The Ghosts Of His Terrible Past, he doesn't turn on music that he finds relatable and wallow in the feeling, he pushes it away and drowns it out with something loud and cheerful and positive—and that is canon.
So, he may like specific hyperpop artists whose music is particularly danceable and whose lyrics are less consistently angsty; but given the genre they're embedded in, he'd be unlikely to stumble on them naturally. It's definitely out on the periphery of the kind of music he'd listen to.
At their heart, I think 100 gecs sounds more like early 00s emo than like any other one genre, especially their more recent stuff. I think getting into emo music could fix Bill Cipher; but "I think this would fix Bill" is basically a synonym for "I think in canon Bill wouldn't touch this with a 10 foot pole."
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badboydevotee · 6 months ago
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Highway to Home: A Birthday Surprise
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The campus was quiet on a Saturday afternoon, with most students scattered across campus or lounging in their dorms. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the sprawling lawns. You had taken this rare opportunity to do something special—something for Sho, whose birthday was today.
Sho was known for his cocky attitude and his less-than-welcoming demeanor, but you had seen another side of him—one that was more complex, more human. As a friend of Leo and Sho’s, you had been exposed to the softer, hidden facets of Sho’s personality. And while he might act like a stereotypical apathetic delinquent, you had come to appreciate the occasional glimpses of his heart beneath the tough exterior.
The crowning jewel of Sho’s personality was his cooking. His food truck, "Highway to Home," had become something of a legend on campus, earning rave reviews from students who were fortunate enough to sample his culinary creations. And although you weren’t quite in Sho’s league when it came to cooking, you were determined to make something special for him today. You had spent the entire morning in your tiny apartment kitchen, trying to replicate one of his simpler dishes—a creamy risotto, with the hope that it would convey your appreciation and affection.
With a final sprinkle of parsley and a dash of freshly cracked pepper, you finished plating the risotto and set it carefully in a box. It wasn’t perfect, but it was made with genuine care. You had also picked up a small, thoughtful gift—a vintage keychain that matched the aesthetic of Sho’s dark blue bandana.
You approached Sho’s food truck with a mixture of nervous excitement and determined resolve, your steps purposeful as you neared the truck. Inside, Sho was busy cooking, his focus entirely on the sizzling skillet in front of him.
As you reached the window, Sho looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours with a flicker of curiosity. He raised an eyebrow, his typical smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“What’s this?” he asked, wiping his hands on a towel as he leaned against the counter. “Did someone order a special delivery?”
You held out the box with a shy smile. “I made you something for your birthday,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I know I’m not as good as you, but I thought you might like it.”
Sho’s expression softened, and he took the box from you with a gentle touch. He carefully lifted the lid, and his eyes widened slightly as he inspected the risotto. There was a pause, and then he looked up at you with an amused glint in his eye.
“So, you’re gonna celebrate my birthday, huh?” he said, his tone half teasing, half genuine.
You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “Yes, I am. And I also got you a little something.” You handed him the gift—a small, wrapped package.
Sho accepted the gift and opened it with a mix of curiosity and surprise. His fingers brushed over the vintage keychain, and a rare, sincere smile spread across his face. “Well, this is pretty cool,” he said, his voice softening. “Thanks.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a warmth spread through you. “You’re welcome. I hope the risotto is at least edible.”
Sho chuckled, a genuine, unguarded sound that seemed to come from deep within. “Alright, let’s see if you’ve managed to make something that won’t get me food poisoning.”
He took a spoonful of the risotto, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he tasted it. The moments stretched out, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, awaiting his verdict. After what felt like an eternity, Sho’s expression relaxed, and he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and approval.
“You know,” he said, still chewing thoughtfully, “this is actually pretty damn good. I might have to add it to the menu, just so I can get some of this more often.”
Your face lit up with a mix of relief and happiness. “Really? I’m glad you like it.”
Sho nodded, his gaze lingering on you with an unfamiliar tenderness. “Yeah, really. And for the record… thanks for making my birthday a little more special.”
There was a quiet moment between you two, an unspoken understanding settling in the air. Sho, despite his usual bravado, seemed genuinely touched, and you felt a flutter of warmth at the connection you were building.
“So,” Sho said, his playful smirk returning, “what do I want for another birthday present? Hmm… I suppose I’ll take you. Just kidding.”
You laughed, a genuine, happy sound that seemed to surprise even yourself. “You’re impossible.”
Sho grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Yeah, but you like it.”
As the sun continued to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, you and Sho shared the evening together, the warmth of the risotto and the shared laughter creating a cozy, intimate moment. For once, the tough delinquent seemed less like a hardened rebel and more like someone who had found a small, unexpected treasure in the middle of his ordinary day.
AO3 vers.
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fiveredlights · 3 days ago
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under the whispering door by TJ Klune given the maxiel treatment—but i only read the blurb, the top goodreads reviews and the free kindle sample because i haven’t decided if i want to pay $10 to read the book yet
“Ah.” Daniel brings the tea up to his lips, aggressively huffing out short and sharp breaths. The steam bends in Max’s direction, like the chicanes on circuits he’s driven on throughout his whole life. Or well. The chicanes he used to drive on.
Daniel takes a sip, hissing through his front teeth, before biting down on his tongue, cursing the teacup like it personally set out on a vendetta against him. He drops the tea down, the murky brown splashing along the rim and onto the table.
It’s kind of stupid, Max thinks. To be trivialised by silly things like the temperature of tea. It’s not like he could harm himself further.
“My official title is Ferryman,” Daniel continues, looking back up and smiling at Max. He wonders if he bit hard enough if he would still bleed. Can people still bleed here?
Max raises his eyebrows. “Ferryman?”
“You know? Because we ferry people to and from realms. Like a boat.” He holds his fist and pumps it up and down two times. “Choo-choo.”
“I know what a ferry is, Daniel.” If he didn’t watch the dirt be shovelled on top of his casket, Max might’ve thought he was hallucinating. Or in a coma. Maybe both. “And trains make the choo-choo sound, not ferries. Is that how boats sound in New Zealand?”
Daniel, for his part, doesn’t bat an eye. He tilts his head, ever so slightly and leans in, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. Max almost tells him to get his elbows off the table. “You and I both know you’ve been to Australia too many times to confuse the accents for another.”
Max blinks a couple times, and Daniel just leans further in, smiling even harder. Another stupid thing, to add to the list. Something deep in his gut swirls larger every second he witnesses Daniel’s smile.
He wants to punch it off his face.
“I’m good at my job, Max,” Daniel says, with an air of almost too much confidence, considering his job is to literally just walk people into the afterlife. A dog could do it. “Best to not keep secrets from each other, hey?”
“If you knew who I was, then why ask anyway?” Max questions.
Daniel seems to seriously consider it, searching Max’s eyes for something. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he’s definitely trying to find something. Maybe he’s a mind reader too.
“I think people are more complex than words on paper,” Daniel replies. Definitely not a mind reader. “I want to know who you say you are.”
Max picks up his tea, watches as Daniel tracks every minuscule movement he makes, eyes flicking down to his mouth as he mimics the two puffs of breath Daniel did minutes earlier. He didn’t need to.
The tea is uncomfortably lukewarm.
“That’s very generous of you,” Max eventually settles on. “Usually people have already decided who I am without even asking or knowing me.”
“Like I said,” Daniel finally drops his chin off his hand and the elbow off the table, leaning back in his chair. “I’m good at my job. That’s why I stay,” he says, grinning.
Most of his shiny pearlescent teeth are on display, and it feels like the grin of a wild and crazed animal trapped in its cage, baring their teeth as a method of distraction.
He would know. Max has spent a long time watching his smile transform into something that could bite. He perfected it enough to sink and burrow underneath his thick skin, so it would be easier to sink it into someone else’s.
“I thought we weren’t keeping secrets from each other?” Max asks, running his tongue on the sharp edges of his upper teeth.
It’s incredibly satisfying to witness Daniel slowly absorb what he’s saying, attempting to shutter himself up before Max can dig any further.
“No. No I guess not,” Daniel echoes, bringing his teacup up, slowly sipping the tea. There’s no slow and sharp huffs of air, just someone who is trying to pretend he hasn’t been pierced through his soul.
It’s too late.
Max has already bitten.
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koiiiji · 7 months ago
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tourists
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summary; your boyfriend loves traveling around the world with you, to explore new tastes, share new memories together and experience some local culture.
tw ; fluff, established relationships, chris being gentle giant and your pookie
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
just as soon as chris finished trainings and won latest championship, his sponsor offered him opportunity to travel to Korea - to evaluate some new possible team members and train them. honestly chris didn’t really cared about new people in team, real interesting fact for him was newfound possibility to visit another continent and try new, local cuisine, and oh, of course he didn’t forget that you also had an area where your enthusiasm went wild. so before agreeing to this trip Chris requested two visas permissions, including flight tickets and went home with a calm soul, in anticipation of telling you good news.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
it’s been a while since you and Chris went somewhere on vacation. of course you followed him around on all his competitions, to show your support and assistance, if it was needed, but you honestly missed weekends when it was just you and your boyfriend. you missed time when you two explored new country through your own ways - Chris with his unstoppable urge to eat and endless stomach and you through the fashion. oh, how you like to explore new places with small shops that sells local handmade (bonus points for Chris if it's food, like homemade honey or jam, canned vegetables, local pastries or any kind of homemade alcohol), souvenir shops, shops of local brands, everything that is somehow connected with the new place where you just arrived and what it could be attributed to fashion or collecting!
there is a theory that if your energy doesn't match, or if you can't stand each other on vacation, then your relationship won't work out. well, you and Chris didn't have that problem. you have an idyll in this regard - all the places, and in general everything related to eating, were planned by Chris with special passion and trepidation. restaurants, cafes with good reviews and large portions, street food shops with the juiciest items, fairs where you can taste traditional dishes and see how they are prepared.
on the other hand, the cultural program was on you - museums, temples, exhibitions, where Chris obediently followed you as long as he was well-fed enough (you put an extra note in your head - to not leave a building if Chris hungry, pookie becomes really moody and whiny if he doesn’t eat enough… he is really dependent on food). and of course shopping - honestly, Chris shared your passion for souvenir shops. he could fill his stomach as much as he wanted, but you couldn't bring food with you as a memory, but collecting symbols in the form of animals from each country sounded fun. he has a separate shelf with a variety of animals that represent each country, and they all are in different styles - funny, realistic, cartoon, wooden, porcelain, stone.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
the flight to Korea was long but filled with excitement and anticipation. as soon as you landed, the vibrant energy of Seoul enveloped you. the city was a bustling mix of modern skyscrapers and ancient temples, and the aroma of street food wafted through the air.
Chris had already mapped out all the best places to eat, starting with a famous street food market. you spent hours wandering through the stalls, sampling everything from spicy tteokbokki to sweet hotteok. Chris's eyes lit up with every new dish, and you couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm.
after a few days of indulging in Korea's culinary delights, it was your turn to take the lead. you guided Chris through the narrow streets of Insadong, where traditional teahouses sat next to quirky boutiques and art galleries. you found a shop filled with some local clothes brands, their vibrant colors and intricate designs mesmerizing.
"Chris, look at this one," - you said, holding up a beautifully embroidered piece of clothing "isn't it stunning?" he nodded, appreciating the craftsmanship. "it's beautiful. you should try it on."
you spent the next hour trying on different items, each one more gorgeous than the last. Chris snapped pictures, his face beaming with pride as you modeled each outfit. next, you visited a quaint shop selling traditional Korean pottery. Chris found a small, intricately painted tiger that he added to his collection of animal souvenirs. "this will be a perfect addition," - he said, placing it carefully in his bag.
that evening, as the sun set over the Han River, you and Chris found a quiet spot to sit and watch the city lights come alive. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. "this has been perfect," - he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of your head "i love experiencing all of this with you." you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "i feel the same. thank you for bringing me here, Chris."
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
one afternoon, after exploring Gyeongbokgung Palace and wandering through Bukchon Hanok Village, a sudden downpour caught you both by surprise. laughing and soaked to the skin, you and Chris dashed into a nearby café, shaking off the rain as you entered. the cozy atmosphere welcomed you with the warm scent of broths and herbs. you found a small table by the window, the glass fogged from the contrast of the cool rain outside and the warmth inside. the café was quaint, with low wooden tables and cushions on the floor, traditional Korean paintings adorning the walls. Chris ordered two bowls of something traditional, hoping to warm you both up after the unexpected drenching. when the steaming soup bowls arrived, you eagerly took a sip, the rich, spicy broth spreading warmth through your chilled body.
Chris watched you with a tender smile, his heart swelling with love and admiration. he adored these moments with you, the way your eyes lit up when you saw something you liked, the small smile that tugged at your lips as you savored new experiences. you were his anchor, his joy, and seeing you happy made him feel complete.
as you continued to enjoy the soup, Chris froze for a moment, mesmerized by the beauty that surrounded him. your hair was slightly damp, your clothes clinging to your body, but your cheeks were flushed from the heat of the soup. your eyes were closed as you savored the wonderful spicy taste and the long-awaited warmth in your throat. Chris hung there for a while, admiring you, the spoon still halfway to his mouth and his mouth slightly open.
"you're so beautiful," - he whispered, almost to himself. you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze and smiling softly. "what?" - you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice. "nothing," - he replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. "i just love you so much" you chuckle, looking away from the bowl, and gazing at him through your eyelashes. "i love you too, Chris. this trip is amazing. thank you for bringing me here." he mischievously grinned at you, his eyes shining with mix of pride for himself, what a good boyfriend he is and genuine joy of sharing memories together.
as you finished your meal and the rain continued to pour outside, the warmth of the café and the love between you made everything else fade away. you were content, happy, and deeply in love, ready to face any adventure as long as you were together.
— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —
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