#internet-radios

[puppyeared]

littlest furth shop

@laikascomet

[dammjamboy]

rtvs 4/20 stream experience @wayneradiotv

[wolfer13579]

Alastor: *Barges into Lucifer’s room* Are you alright, my darling?

Lucifer: Yeah. Why? What’s up?

Alastor: I thought I heard something loud drop.

Lucifer: That was my shirt.

Alastor: Your shirt fell and made that noise?

Lucifer: I was inside of it.

[aristotels]

pro tip: install radio sure and just listen to radios all over the world for free, you got shitload of genres - ska punk, pop, 80es rock, like all kinds and theyre tagged so you can search stations you like, and you got all kinds of radios in various languages, afrikaans, polish, arabic, english...so on so on... basically lots of cool stuff...u know spread your horizonts

[plulp]

IM NOT A DOCTOR BUT I THINK I MIGHT BE ABLE TO HELP

[ukgk]

[prenzea]

this is kind of a joke but i seriously think we should bring back rickrolling because the amount of people i saw that were actually, seriously pissed/upset at the rtvs crew for bbvrai was wild lmao

youtube link that says "omg hlvrai 2 is here!" but it's just a rickroll? perfect. incredible. exactly what rtvs did last night but it was a 5 hour breaking bad roleplay.

[the-avs]

Promo~?

As the camera flickers to life, thanks to some fiddling by a man in a blue suit, you were able to see four individuals. The TV-faced man sat back down, sighing and breathing heavily, as though he had just performed serious labor. On the far left, just beside the TV-headed man, was another man with red hair and deer ears, and a sinister smile painting his lips as he sipped on what looked like black coffee. On the other side of the TV man, there was another man smoking a cigar with pink fumes swirling around the room, and wearing a large red coat with striped neck fluff. And finally, on the far right, there was the only girl in the room, a young lady with red, white, and black swirled hair, scrolling on her phone with a bored expression. She appears the most trendy of them all in terms of her clothing.

"Phew..." the TV man panted, turning to face the deer-eared man beside him. "Fuck, Alastor, why did you insist on this camera?" he demanded between breaths, the deer man simply lowering his mug from his lips and setting it down onto a coaster on the table.

"Ah, tsk, tsk, darling. You simply don't know the difference between class and 'trendy'. Rest assured, an older camera will do us just fine," the man assured. He then tilted his head, his smile never dropping, although he looked confused. "So I suppose it's on then, yes?"

"The fuck- Of course it's on! We're rolling! Fuck, let's just go down the line. Vel, you first, because I can't breathe," the TV man insisted, drawing out a groan from the girl. She didn't put her phone down, but she did spare you a look, looking at you with a bored expression.

"Fine. Name's Velvette, youngest overlord and ruler of social media 'n shit. Yadda yadda, you get the gist, don't be a dick, don't be a fashion disaster, and we'll get along fine," she listed as though it was nothing before quickly returning her gaze back to her phone.

The man beside the young woman gave a sinister smirk, a sickening look of lust painting his already creepy face. "Heya, sweet cheeks. Name's Valentino, owner of the Pride Ring's porn industry. Need a guy, a girl, something in between? I got you. I also accept 'sir' or 'daddy'~." Creep. Luckily, the attention is quickly taken off of him when the TV-headed man feigns a cough to get your attention.

"Ignore him, ignore him," he tried to laugh it off and be nonchalant. Valentino was still creepy, though. "I'm Vox, of course, the CEO and main engineer of VoxTek and numerous other products you may have heard of, including Voot Floops, VVs, the sound system Valkyrie, and of course, the Vogitek music app, not to mention VoxTube and the like. Pleased to make your acquaintance~" he said in a charmingly fake, yet professional tone, clearly attempting to maintain the appearance of the group's leader.

"Vox, darling, this isn't an advertisement," the man beside Vox said with a chuckle, a Cheshire grin spreading on his face. "Greetings, you wayward sinners! I'm certain most of you already know of me, but for formalities and politeness sake, I'll introduce myself. You may know me as the Radio Demon, my name is Alastor, darling! A pleasure to meet you, certainly, quite a pleasure! Now then, you see, we on the AVs have been rather bored as of late, and we'd like to socialize with those around us, so... would you be so kind as to give us a promo, dear~?"

(( Feel free to ignore, interact if not tagged, or ask for your tag to be removed!! :D ))

@human-monokuma @unknown-ultimates @ultimate-rider @pizza-for-my-friends @bartender-husk @bigkaijubaddie @hellhound-loony @hoshi-neko-hikari and anyone else!! Tagging is hard lmao-

[disease]

omg... this app is the cutest thing i've ever seen

Poolsuite.FM: "the super-summer music player"

[myntesuniverse]

I thought I’d share an encounter I had the other day:

as a matter of fact, after freshening my memory on some lingo that frequently eludes itself to me, I do in fact NOT “simp” for Alastor. I believe I’ve also been described to “kin” with him, which I suppose means relate in some way? I suppose that is more accurate.. (I must say, I am quite charmed by Lucifer, platonically of course, but nonetheless.)

[radiofreealbemut]

Welcome back in PAYwHATYOUWANTdAY (zero include) !!! Now each no air month, the 23th you will find a selection of 10 records from the PWYW zero include land of freedom. I do this because it’s important to do not forget that to break the rules is the better way to stay free ^^ And also of course because it’s so frustrating to share only free download music. (Previous selection is here https://radiofreealbemut.tumblr.com/post/751249798357745664/various-artists-out34-1-welcome-in )

[wormonastringtheory]

Sometimes your at your ex's family's place because you live there because you're besties and his dad's friend comes over and brings a friend along and you get into conversation and your ex's dad mentions Dan and Phil (because of his running bit that they're both actually dead) and it turns out that your dad's friend's friend worked with Dan and Phil on their radio 1 show. Because why not. Extremely hilarious when Dan and Phil were my special interest in high school and me and my ex bonded over them on our first date.

[thisbluespirit]

How To Find Your (British Actor) Blorbo On The Radio: A Brief Guide

(Disclaimer: British, because the main tool I'm using is the BBC's Genome.)

If you want more of your fave actor, or you love full-cast drama podcasts/audios (and audiobooks/NF content too) here's a guide on how to get your hands on BBC Radio broadcasts.

The BBC have a great free resource called Genome, which has all the Radio Times listings from 1922 to the present day (plus some of the actual articles), and it's searchable. Up until its arrival, it was really hard to do that, so \o/

Not all actors do radio and not everything you find will be obtainable, but it's always worth a try! It's especially likely for actor-blorbos who do other audio work, or theatre (theatre tends not to pay so well, and radio is a handy extra thing that can be more easily slotted in between performances than TV/film.)

Go to Genome, and put your blorbo's name into the search box:

Press search, which will bring back a bunch of results from both radio and TV listings from 1922 up to the current year:

2. Filter down to "radio only" on the sidebar to avoid scrolling through all the TV. At the top of the page you can change the display order to First broadcast (or Availability, if you want it only to bring things currently available to stream on the BBC website), among other options.

I can also cut down on extraneous results by selecting a date range that only covers when my guy was active.

I scroll down until I find something that looks interesting, in this case a proper audio drama, called The Hornblower Story. It's from 1980 and is an adaptation of a well known book. The details give me enough info to search the wider internet, and see if I get lucky...

3. Search the internet and listen to your blorbo act in radio drama!

There are several ways to obtain radio drama online. If you use streaming sites like Audible and Spotify, it may be there, although usually only if it's had a commercial release.

The BBC still broadcast old programmes on the radio, so it might be currently available on their website to stream - and unlike TV, you can listen to BBC Radio anywhere in the world! (If you are in the UK, you can also download and use the BBC Sounds app.) The Genome will usually provide a link for you to go straight there, if that's the case.

However, obviously, most BBC Radio from past decades is not available commercially or being broadcast by the BBC now and some doesn't exist in the archives, or was never recorded (as with TV), but as methods of recording audio at home have been widely available since the 1950s and 60s, there are loads of off-air recordings of radio made by listeners/collectors, and some have freely shared their copies online. Some are in closed forums etc., but three good sites to try first are YouTube, RadioEchoes & the Internet Archive.

I usually start with a Google search - e.g. '"Title" radio' or radio bbc and if that doesn't give me anything add on first "Radio Echoes" and then "Internet archive" to the search.

And I'm in luck! Radio Echoes appear to have the adaptation I'm after. I need to check the broadcast dates to see if they match up & then I can stream or download for free - and hear my blorbo play a stern Admiral for 5 minutes or less, hurrah!

Clicking on the links takes you to a screen where you can press play to stream or right click on the play bar to download the mp3 file to your device. (Click the "Save audio as..." option).

These are archive off-air recordings, so the quality can vary, especially for older programmes.

4. Rinse and repeat with each new likely Genome discovery.

If you find a copy of what you're looking for on the Internet Archive instead, you'll get up a page with a play bar (like the one above), with episodes listed plus details (to varying degrees) below. If you want to stream, just click play and enjoy. If you want to download it, then click on the MP3 files line on the right-hand sidebar, which will then give you an "X no of files" button to click and you can download them to keep.

(You can download all the files, but I usually cut straight to the chase and just nab the MP3s.)

Sometimes the BBC have released a commercial audiobook. In those cases, if you already use audio/music streaming subscription sites like Audible or Spotify, you should be able to find it there.

If you don't, or you want to buy a download, I've found the best option (weirdly!) (for UK users, at any rate) is to get the audiobook up at Penguin Books, which links to various paid subscription streaming and download options, so you can find the best one for you (and you know it's been recced by a hopefully reputable source.)

Last year, I wanted to buy Vivat Rex, the BBC's landmark dramatisation of all the English history plays rolled into one giant starry-cast Jacobean audio serial, and successfully used this route. (I'm very old by internet terms and still like listening via MP3 files on my MP3 player, as long as it survives.)

Pretty much the only affordable download option I've found so far I got courtesy of Penguin's links to Hive. (But this may be a UK only option.)

If what you're looking for seems likely to exist even if you can't find it by any of these methods - keep trying! New things are being added daily to all these websites, and the BBC cycle round old shows all the time.

And if you want to go deeper, there are closed forums etc. for radio enthusiasts where you need to make an account, but you may then be able to torrent or download an even wider variety of things.

Of course, whether or not your blorbo has been in anything good or any radio at all will depend on them, but I hope this guide will help enable you to find out!

YouTube, Radio Echoes, the Internet Archive and Old Time Radio all have radio from other countries too. So while the BBC Genome can't help you with anywhere outside the UK, the other links here can be good places to look around and browse for things you might be interested in.

You can of course use the same methods to search for things like a favourite author, or particular plays, to see if the BBC have done any radio adaptations - BBC Radio have done heaps of things that have never been adapted on screen, so it's always worth a look for anything you'd be into.

Radio Echoes is browsable as well as searchable, and while Internet Archive is a bit less so, there are some excellent collections you can look through, like the Saturday Night Theatre collection, and the BBC Radio Shows listings.

[radioroxx]

i dont know what iirc means. i will never know what iirc means. i have looked it up like four times in the past month and i forget the meaning every time. no one tell me im giving up on this one

[shoshiwrites]

Decided to try my hand at a little postwar. Big thank you to @basilone for the prompts that inspired this ♡ Bucky Egan/War correspondent OC, also on Ao3! NSFW.

the nearness of you

The table’s littered in paper, a handful of pens, black-red-blue, the bound copy of her manuscript beside, her wristwatch, the coffee cup separated from its saucer.

The clock behind her, above the stove, reads just after one. 

She should probably try and get some sleep, she knows, but he’s due back in tonight, the tiny D. C. apartment they share until the paperwork goes through on a house. She hasn’t seen it in person yet, but he’s told her about it. Says she’ll love it. It’s got a nook for her desk, he says, a big window to the backyard.

A yard.

That’s a new thing, too. Hydrangea bushes and trees to watch the birds.

She inspects the coffee grounds at the bottom of the mug, dark specks in the dim light of the bulb above her head. There’s more sugar to be had now, a whole canister of it there on the counter, labeled in blue, and she can’t break the habit of only sprinkling a touch with the tiny spoon.

She doesn’t know if she’ll ever get used to it, waiting.

It's not like she hasn't done. The landscapes blur in her mind, the muddied boots, the blood, the tall dry grass, the leaden skies and swoops of birds — starlings, and the flies.

The radio next to the canisters of sugar and salt punches out the program sign-off in static, the tinny “Star-Spangled Banner“ that follows. She keeps it on for the baseball games, when he’s not here. The noise keeps her company, the promise that he’ll ask about the scores. Thank you for listening. Good night and good morning.

She makes it through half of the next page before she hears the turn of the lock.

“In here,” she says, like a stage-whisper, and her voice is thick, like she’s been sleeping. Like she hasn’t spoken since he left. 

“You’re up,” he says, and it’s a statement and a question at once, colored by his own face and curls that look like they might have seen a moment of shut-eye in the back of a taxi. He sounds a little surprised, maybe that she’s awake, that she’s greeted him before he’s opened his mouth. His cap must be by the door, and no need for an overcoat in the summer. She knows it’s only the hour and the neighbors that have kept him from coming in with a boom. He looks tired, the same softness to his face that she knows comes from exhaustion. She wonders how he’s been sleeping.

It’s the usual questions and answers, slow this time, and still rushed — have you eaten, how was the train, how’s the story going, hear anything good, and the last one means she gets to produce the little scrap of paper with her pencil marks, the scribbled notes. Two to one Yankees. Chandler walked nine in the first four innings but took a no-hitter into the ninth. Someone hit a one-out single. He guesses until he hits the name that rings a bell. She nods, and his eyes crinkle in delight — at the win, at the paper, at her own eyes warm with love.

He sees the manuscript pages too, the coffee grounds, the hunch of her shoulders. There’s a question in it, like maybe it’s not going as fine as she says it is. She reaches for him. “I missed you.” Maybe it doesn’t help anything, saying that, when this is what they do. Have done. Maybe it does. He smells a little bit like a smoking lounge, the faint scent of aftershave applied many hours earlier.

“Missed you too,” he says, wrapping his arms around her when she stands. “I missed my wife.”

She doesn’t know when she’ll get used to that, either.

Maybe she doesn’t feel like one, a wife, here with a dirty plate in the sink, and the coffeemaker that needs cleaning, and her slacks, and her hair curling away from her forehead.

He kisses the top of her head and maybe she does, here in his arms.

“How much,” she asks, and the feeling gathers in her throat, something tumbling.

He pulls back, the smallest smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’d say — a hell of a lot.” He cups her face with his hand, traces his thumb at her chin, kisses her like he’s passing a secret. “A whole hell of a lot.”

“Mmph,” she says, into his shoulder, and he looks like he might laugh.

“How much for you?”

She tucks a curl behind his ear. “”Bout the same. Maybe more.”

“More, huh?”

She pokes her tongue into his mouth, in the next kiss. His hands grasp the small of her back, his fingertips wandering lower. She shivers when he travels beneath the hem of her top, skims his fingers along the bare skin of her hip.

“John-” Her voice is a little breathy now, half-serious. “Don’t go starting something you can’t finish.”

“Now, just what are you accusing me of, Josephine?” His thumb presses against her hip, a promise. She starts to unbutton his jacket, the back of her hand falling to ghost against the front of his trousers. “Where’s the goddamn couch?”

They’d moved it to the spot themselves, not-so-gracefully accounting for the difference in their heights. It’s not as plush or as comfortably upholstered as either of them would really like, but they’re not about to waste too much time complaining. He settles himself over her, or tries to, hipbones framing hers. 

She bites her tongue with a crack about needing coffee, even though she knows he’d laugh. He’s like that, he can laugh at himself. She lets him work his hand between her legs, over the brown herringbone. 

Maybe they didn’t think it through either, as clothed as they are. It doesn’t stop either of them, her from pulling him down to her mouth, the wet kisses and flushed cheeks, the growing hardness of him under the olive wool.

They hardly wiggle out of them, the inconvenient trousers, just enough for her to grab at the back of his thigh and squeeze. “Alright there, Mrs. Egan.” 

She goes redder, a sight, and the dark tufts of hair just above the waistband. He sighs out against her throat. 

She’s wondering just how comfortable he is exactly, knee wedged like that against the couch, until she feels him against her, slick and swollen, until-

Her exhale’s sharp, the twist of it, the little gasp-groan of it, of them, her nails against the curve of his back. 

He covers her like a blanket, heavy and warm, the dull oak moss of his aftershave, like everything she’s ever missed. The movement of his hips grows quicker, spooling tight in the bottom of her stomach. 

“Got me right where you want me, huh,” he asks, and his eyes are hazy with it, stormy-beautiful-blue. 

“All I dreamed about-” she breaks off with a noise, a whine, a spot inside hit just right. 

“Missed me, huh?”

“So much-” Every day, since-

She clenches around him, the edges of her sight shimmering, watches his mouth fall open that touch it always does. A second or two before he remembers just what exactly they’re doing, how they ought to be careful if they don’t want-

She arches, her gasp swallowed with a kiss. He comes in her hand, a dribble sliding down the crease of her thigh. The sound the sticking makes, between their bodies, pulls another noise from her chest.

Heavy, unthinking kisses against her nose, her forehead, her lips. Her shoulders lift, needing more of him. 

“I kept thinking about this,” he says, hoarse. “On the train.” A fresh thrill runs through her, touches her cheeks. “Almost missed my damn stop.”

She doesn’t push the errant curl back that brushes her forehead from his. “That wouldn’t have made either of us too happy.”

“Me in Richmond, and my darling wife here on this couch.”

“My darling husband in Richmond and me here on this couch.” Her fingers play at the back of his neck, the moments before they’ll get up and clean and dress for bed. “Good thing you wised up, then.”

“With the real thing here at home? Be pretty hopeless if I hadn’t.”

She traces her thumb against the corner of his mouth, watches his eyes follow her collarbone. “Does Mr. Not Pretty Hopeless care to join the Mrs. in the shower?”

He dips his head, kisses the crook of her neck and shoulder, intent on kissing across her chest. “Care to? That’s the best offer I’ve heard all week.”

[x4c0ld-hvnds4x]

Radioshack in the 2000s & 2010s 🔊

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧