keyboard of the winds

the houses as satisfying sounds


Gryffindor - opening a can of soft drink, running water, a crackling fire, rain on a tin roof

Slytherin - cracking knuckles, the pop sound a cork makes when leaving a bottle, the sound horses’ hooves make, the swish of a ball going through a net

Ravenclaw - the pop of bubblewrap, slamming a book shut, typing on a keyboard, ice cracking

Hufflepuff - the purr of a cat, the sound of wind chimes, the sound a golf ball makes when it goes in the hole, the click of a computer mouse

today i learned that if your fingers are slightly off on the keyboard and you try to type “shiro”, you’ll wind up with “shorp” and i’m very tempted to just start calling him that. takashi shorpogane. 

shorp will form the head. 

shorp says patience yields focus. 

shorp loves keith. 



[VID] [170607 - 170611] FTISLAND’s Video Recap

170607 10th Anniversary Showcase

170608 Mnet MCountDown

170608 FTISLAND at Hongkira

170609 KBS Music Bank

170610 MBC Music Core

170611 YHY Sketchbook

170611 SBS Inkigayo

  • Wind
  • Love Sick
  • Interview (pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3) (The quality is really bad but this is the only video that I still found surviving on Youtube :/)

Honorable mention:

170606 FTISLAND’s 10-year songs mashup special

PS: Please do watch the music shows performances on the official videos linked above, don’t forget to give your likes and leave comments! Do you know Primadonnas?? xD

Unnecessary musical things

Aries: the Pocket Trumpet

Taurus: recorders

Gemini: Country music


Leo: being in a practice room with someone reaaaal sketch

Virgo: moldy reeds

Libra: Triple flats

Scorpio: sketchy slide oil stains

Sagittarius: Valve Trombone

Capricorn:  that one soprano I who won’t shut up about the fact that she’s soprano 1

Aquarius: squeaking woodwinds

Pisces: that screaming sound effect on keyboards

Hogwarts House Sounds


Compact closing, lipstick lid being put back on, high heels clicking on the floor, paper ripping, turning on a shower after a long day, food sizzling in a pan, scissors doing the snip thing, nails tapping on a table, the hush of snow falling at night 


Stepping on a crunchy leaf, fire crackling, laughing with friends, wet boots squeaking, snap of a barrette, waves, orchestra warming up, flip flops, the quiet as people fall asleep at a sleepover


Cheering crowd, wind whistling in your ears, roller blades, engine revving, *stomp stomp clap*, fireworks, shrieks during roman candle fights, large cat purring, breath-held silence while sneaking out at night


Pens scratching, turn of book pages, keyboard clicking, birds chirping in the morning, owls hooting at night, wind in the trees, movie quotes, phones vibrating, soft quiet of a library

a list of Korean slangs

안물안궁 = didn’t ask, not curious
하의실종 패션 = the kind of fashion where you wear a shirt so long it covers your shorts and makes you look like you’re not wearing pants
바람돌이 = someone who is multifandom (who changes idols like the wind)
키배 = (from 키보드 배틀) keyboard battle, a fight on the internet
트청하다 = (from 트윗 청소) to clean up your tweets
언팔 = unfollow
탈덕 = unstan someone
어그로 = aggro, aggression (particularly unnecessary aggression)
졸귀 = fucking cute
존잼 = fucking funny
노답 = no answer, as in “you just said something so stupid I can’t even form a reply”
핵노답 = nuclear no answer, like above but even worse
노잼 = no fun
드립 = a bad pun or bad joke (from 애드립, adlib)
개드립 = a super bad pun or joke

i-always-watch  asked:


At the very end before Numar can land the final strike on Spite, a beam of light shines down and envelopes the wolf. He is slowly drawn up into the air before taken into the docking bay of a UFO.

Once aboard, the interior lights up to have the wold standing in the middle of a bedroom, overlooking the shoulder of a 25 year old man hunched over his desk, typing away at his keyboard as he types this message.

That’s right. He winds up in the bedroom of his creator and in order to win the game he must defeat me, Numar-mun.

And he does.

In one hit.

Cuz screw it, I’ve never really been good in a fight.

That’s right, I’m dead and still typing this somehow.

Good bye.

Uuuh, I guess I’m finishing this post up then?

Why is this guy’s keyboard so filthy? Jeez, he really needs to wash this thing more often.

Okay, uh, secret ending? I guess now I control what happens in my timeline???

Uuuh, lets see.

I get my soul back, but Asriel also gets his back so we can both be happy.

Chara is alive again and not some kind of ghostly wraith child obsessed with revenge anymore.

Gaster, my dad, and everyone who has wound up in the Void are back in their appropriate timelines.

Spite never existed.

The Uprising never started so there was no attempt at a second great war.

Aaaaaand I think that covers it.

The end.

Bye everyone.

This was hard to type out with claws. Hope you all appreciate the time I put into this.

The Signs as Sounds

Aries: Fireworks. Loud and beautiful to hear.
Taurus: The crispy sound you hear, when you eat chips.
Gemini: Flipping through a book.
Cancer: The sound of rain hitting a window.
Leo: The sound of crackling fire.
Birds chirping in the morning. Can either be really annoying or nice to hear.
Libra: Wind blowing through trees.
Scorpio: Typing on a keyboard.
Popcorn popping.
The sound of clinking wine glasses.
Aquarius: The sound of the ocean.
When you hear a smile in someone’s voice.


a little birdie told me someone doesn’t know whos in supertramp and THAT’S BASICALLY A CUE FOR ME TO MAKE A HUGE INFO DUMP ON WHY I LOVE SUPERTRAMP SO MUCH

L to R: John Helliwell, Dougie Thomson, Bob Siebenberg, Roger Hodgson, Rick Davies

they’re a bunch of nerds that i love lets  talk about each member

ROGER HODGSON aka my love

this is Roger Hodgson and he’s amazing. he’s one of supertramp’s main songwriters along with Rick. I definitely have a crush on him but can you really blame me? He’s a wonderful guy and probably the nicest musician I’ve ever heard of. Seriously, his kindness, passion, and love knows no bounds and you can SERIOUSLY tell it whenever you see him in concert. His smile is the most wonderful and sincere smile in the world, and it brings sunshine to stormy days. (Truth. I saw him on a rainy day and once he started playing, it stopped raining.)

He has a high pitched voice and he writes all the songs he sings, as compared to Rick’s deep gravelly voice. He sang songs such as Give a Little Bit, The Logical Song, and my personal favorite, Hide In Your Shell. He’s pretty much the hippie of the band. He played guitar and keyboards in Supertramp, but he’s played bass and flageolet on their first album.

He left in 1983 for a solo career and he still tours today. He also made some weird music videos in the 80s, but who hasn’t?


Rick is probably grumpy, but we love him anyway. He’s always got a full beard and if he doesn’t, something happened because that only happened TWICE in supertramp’s career. He’s the other main songwriter of Supertramp, writing songs like Goodbye Stranger, Crime of the Century, and Bloody Well Right. He’s pretty introverted and he likes the blues. He played keyboards and sometimes played the harmonica in Supertramp, but he was actually a drummer first! 

When Roger left Supertramp, he made a promise to not play any of the songs Roger wrote. (You see, technically every song is credited to the both of them, but in reality, the one who sang it = wrote it.) In 1988, he broke that promise and Roger was heartbroken. They haven’t really spoken since, and no, there won’t be a reunion.

Despite what some people might say, Rick and Roger don’t hate each other. They might have had opposing personalities, but they never really hated each other. They just don’t talk anymore. I don’t think it’s even possible for Roger to hate anyone, to be honest.

JOHN HELLIWELL (more like john HELLAwell)

WHO DOESN’T LOVE THIS GUY???? John’s the saxaphone guy and also master jokester. In the Roger era days of Supertramp, he did all the announcing, so he was probably the one the audience knew the most. Rick and Roger were much too shy to do it themselves, so they got John to do it. He doesn’t mind it because he’s naturally the center of attention. He plays sax, obviously, but he does other wind instruments and also keyboards when needed in live shows. 


he’s scottish, obviously. He plays bass for supertramp and left in 1988. He likes sailing and now he lives in Chicago somewhere, which is close to me. He’s very wiggly on stage.


Also spelled Bob C. Benberg because he wanted to get around some laws because he’s actually AMERICAN. He plays the drums for Supertramp and he’s a stereotypical Californiaer. Californier? I don’t know. He got drunk a lot.

SPEAKING of sleepy Johns, what about John poke-typing out a blog post, and winding up passed out over the keyboard. Sherlock’s lips quirk up when he finds him like that, and he lets out a soft huff of laughter as he walks over, gently lifting John’s arm from where it’s been resting on the keyboard and holding down the H key for who knows how long. After undoing and deleting all those ‘hhhhhhh’s, Sherlock finally reaches the top of the document–John’s blog entry. While John is still slumbering, Sherlock sneakily reads what he’s written. And his heart does a strange flutter, because this isn’t like the other stuff John posts to his blog. Or…well it is, but John’s blog posts don’t usually talk in so much detail about Sherlock’s eyes, or how fond John is of his hair, or how much he loves it when Sherlock smiles, even when it’s just a little upturned corner of his mouth. Sherlock reads the post, realizing that John is just as aware of Sherlock and all his little habits and behaviors and quirks and physical traits as Sherlock is of his.

John mentions his lips, how soft they look, how hard it is not to stare sometimes, especially when he’s smiling. He talks about Sherlock’s expressive face, poking fun at the way his nose wrinkles in distaste, noting fondly how his brow furrows with concentration, reveling in how he can see those eyes light up when Sherlock makes a connection, and he even tries to list all the colors he can make out in them. John writes about that special tone Sherlock uses just for him, sometimes mere seconds after being completely condescending and derisive to someone else. He notes all the little acts of kindness he shows him that sometimes Sherlock himself didn’t even realize he was doing for John. And Sherlock knows he can be abrasive even to John, but there’s not even a mention of those moments.

John always writes his blog entries like that, but later goes through and deletes the soppy bits. No need to let everyone know that he fancies his flatmate—especially not said flatmate. But now Sherlock knows, and this one time he takes the chance, and after a moment of hesitation, he dips down and rouses John with a feather-light kiss to his cheek, a gentle hand laid on his shoulder. Sherlock’s lips linger there tentatively for a moment, and then tired, sleepy John, just barely starting to wake up, makes a soft little humming sound and instinctively turns his head just slightly, seeking out Sherlock’s lips with his own, even if without really being aware of what’s going on yet, like a newborn kitten blindly feeling his way around. And Sherlock freezes, eyes gone wide as John sleepily, lazily presses his lips to his. It’s nothing much, just a chaste peck, but it’s lingering, and slow and so, so tender. John’s half—well, mostly—asleep, and the sentiment is just so genuine and uncensored, and Sherlock’s afraid to kiss back and break the spell by waking John up further. It’s a relatively brief kiss anyway, and John lets out another sleepy hum of contentment as he starts to blink himself into awareness.

And John is SO RED when he wakes up fully and realizes what he’s doing. And EVEN REDDER when he realizes Sherlock read the un-redacted version of his post.

Pitchfork: The Year In Music 2014 ,The 100 Best Tracks

Taylor Swift

“Out of the Woods”



Though “Shake It Off” had been uncoiled weeks earlier and cemented Taylor Swift’s somewhat vague “‘80s-pop” agenda, the release of “Out of the Woods” was the moment where it all snapped into place. Working with Jack Antonoff of Bleachers and Fun., Swift creates a chant-along that’s Taylor-made for a Reagan-era flick, though I can’t imagine Harry Styles standing on any lawns in Nashville anytime soon. (I feel like Harry Styles doesn’t raise his arms for anyone. For more Harry Styles fanfic, please visit my Tumblr.) On “Out of the Woods”, Swift and Antonoff build a monster chorus worth the price of admission, but in the glorious last minute, they deploy all their weapons—from the shuttering drums to the cascading perfection that is Swift’s vocal performance—for 2014’s Best Breakdown. —Corban Goble

Taylor Swift




Dating back to her earliest records, Taylor Swift’s songs have navigated the familiar tropes of Western romance: Romeo and Juliet, cheerleader versus geek, the shy girl who falls for the rebellious boy, Prince Charming and his white horse. On her shapeshifting new album 1989, “Style” is perhaps one last look at the version of Swift who sees herself in broadly drawn characters—in this instance, a “classic” girl wearing red lipstick who has fallen for a slick-haired, white-teed guy with the “James Dean look” in his eye. But where those early songs were often parables, this one is more of an allegory: Swift dredges up iconic imagery of the American '50s as a way of framing an on-again, off-again relationship so intense that its essence feels infinite.

But “Style” also seems like a distilled look at a future version of Taylor Swift. Though it is structured like so many of her previous tracks, it’s not her meticulous songwriting that throws you into a headrush. Instead it’s her vocals, tense and restrained, misting emotion in cascading sighs and implied ellipses. But more so it’s the instrumentation from Max Martin and Shellback, which traces a line from Jan Hammer to “Teenage Dream”. Swift delivers wallops in small moments, so her producers bust out the heartstoppers: a pre-chorus riff that’s like a car screeching short, then undulating waves of keyboards underneath the hook that feel like the wind blowing through your hair. Most stunning of all is a guitar figure that scribbles its own story of indefinite lust across the night sky. —Jordan Sargent


Rain beats against the window like fingers tapping rapidly on a keyboard. The wind whips frantically through half-bare trees that bemoan the loss of their fallen leaves. The symphony of nature’s violent breakdown serves as backdrop to the broken yet thundering drum that is his heartbeat.

Quick flashes illuminate the room long enough to cast fractured and melancholy shadows across the open space of the first floor of their home. Once full of warmth and light, it is now barren and stark. It was fitting really. The one person who managed to bring life to this space, to his life, is gone. The shining beacon that is her energy has been extinguished. Why should he weep alone? Why should he be the only one falling apart and shouting to the heavens and any god that would hear him? Why should he be the only one – living or otherwise – who felt cold, hollow and lifeless without Abbie gracing the world with her steadfast, beautiful and dazzling presence?

Oh, yes. The storm and shadow-filled empty space were most fitting indeed. They were raging and weeping, as was he. His back and legs ached now from keeping his vigil against the front door for hours but it mattered not. Nothing held meaning anymore without his light.