#I always love that the crab emoji is like doing the heart with their hands <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[nightlocktime]

Thank youuuuuu! 🦀

[alienaiver]

For the little ask game, “come on, don’t do that. My head hurts” + Tsukki if you’re feeling up to him 🙈🙈 if not maybe Kirishima or Hinata??

I SWEAR TO GOD OPAL MY BELOVED MY BETHROTHED MY ONE AND ONLY I APOLOGIZE SO DEEPLY SO SO DEEPLY FOR THE WAIT!!!!!! life happened and while i know that YOU will always get me, i still wanted to give u a quick and DRAMATIC bow for making you wait for your beloved !!!! of course i went with tsukki for u, i love opal x tsukki with my entire heart !!!! <333333 its also so long... so so long compared to this just being a little writing game IDJESFHSEFHSK [clown emoji] <333 but its what u deserve!!!!!!!!!!!! also it isnt proof read and i swear this is FRESH!!! out of my document. i couldnt fall asleep last night before i had written down a note SO I WOULDNT FORGET MY IDEA FOR UR PROMPT!! and i swear. the note is so funny. it makes no sense. im attaching it to the bottom of this bcos. what the fuck.

You’re situated on the floor, watching the television with intense concentration, eyes wide and analyzing. A documentary is currently on, the sound most likely louder than necessary. In the back of your mind you register the door open and close, shoes shuffled off and feet padding into the living room.

You barely acknowledge his presence as a presentation of giant crab’s anatomy is shown on the screen. He wordlessly bends down behind you and wrap his arms around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. You hum a distracted sound and he scoffs before retreating back onto the couch.

The documentary ends shortly after and Netflix recommends another one as the ending screen passes.

It’s a documentary about top secret UFO projects that’s been revealed. When it starts you shuffle backwards so you’re situated between the legs that Tsukishima spreads to accommodate you. The introduction is loud and unnecessarily dramatic but as Tsukishima kneads your shoulders, you don’t seem to mind much.

There’s a distinct dissonance between the sound effects and the experts talking so you reach out for the remote on the table to turn it up.

“Come on, don’t do that, my head hurts.” the grumble above you clicks immediately – there’s never been a constant need to communicate between you and with so many years of being together – living together, being quiet isn’t awkward or seen as tense. But he’s usually more talkative on Wednesdays since those are his quieter days.

You turn your back to look at him and by God does he look awful. You didn’t get to see him this morning before he left but he must’ve slept like shit if the bags under his eyes are any tell. Right now his glasses are skewed and you reach up your arms to fix their position but he turns his head, “they’re putting pressure behind the ears and it’s grating.��

You get up and grab his hand to motion him to follow. Wordlessly, you go into the bedroom and find your yoga mat, roll it out on the floor and situate yourself on your knees at the far end. You pat your thighs and he narrows his eyes, “I’m not doing that.”

“Where does it hurt? Forehead? Temples? Eyes?” you search his face for any tells but he remains neutral as he stares you down with his arms crossed, “it’s everywhere.”

“Oh, tension then! Come on you big baby, you know I can make it better.”

He grumbles out something incoherent before he starts walking across the mat to you. “Lie on your stomach,” you tell him and he stops in his tracks, “how would that ever be comfortable? My back would be raised in such a weird position!”

You roll your eyes at him – you don’t mean to, you know he isn’t uncooperative on purpose, just that he gets childish when something has inconvenienced him for the better part of his day. You pat your thighs again, this time harder to get the point across. He sighs deeply and theatrically before he does as he’s told. Before he lays his head on your thighs, you gently take off his glasses for him and put them next to the mat. With a wink you promise he’ll get them back after his treatment. He scoffs and rolls his eyes before he settles, breathing out deeply into your legs. “Can I come up for air?” he asks, knowing full well he can breathe just fine as you do your ministrations, he’s just being a little brat. You ignore him as your hands travel to the back of his neck, gently caressing first and feeling for the tension built up there.

You start slow, tracing his nape, shoulders and up to his skull before you place your thumbs on the part of the neck that connects with the skull, pressing down so hard that he whines underneath you, knowing it’ll help but with a natural reaction to pain. You move your thumbs only a few centimeters across the same section of that edge, feeling the built-up lactic acid. You’ve tried showing him how to relief this during the day when he’s been hunched at the desk or have been stressed because he’s so prone to tension but based on the amount you can feel with your thumbs, he hasn’t been doing his little exercises. You file that information for another day when he’s being unreasonable with one of his own demands to you.

He sighs out as you reach the edge by his ears and you know it’s already feeling so much better for him. Your fingers trace the back of his head and down his nape slowly, savoring the connection you’re having with him at this moment. When the fingers reach his shoulders, you start massaging gently, not really working out the knots with power but simply stimulating the blood flow in the area.

“Can I turn now? I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my entire life.” You snort out a reply but lift your arms with a final pat to his back, “get on your back.”

“Stop ordering me around.” The complaint is without any heat as he turns, his long limps hanging off of the end of the mat. It’s a good thing he doesn’t do much yoga, you think. With your fingers you trace his temples and up to his brow, your right pointer coming to the slope of his nose, tracing a line up and down from the middle of his nose, up between the brows and ending at the forehead before traveling back down, repeating the gentle motion. With your left hand you smooth out his worry lines with similar gentle motion, traveling to his jaw too.

Within a few moments you see all the built-up tension release as he relaxes into your hold, his arms going limp next to him and his legs spreading just a few millimeters more. You smile to yourself at succeeding, continuing for a few more beats before you initiate conversation.

“How was work?”

He scoffs and you feel the worry lines slowly reappear but you’re quick to make him melt again. “Hori and I were told to re-label some old, archived files today, you know, my favorite grunt work.” The sarcasm is thick on his tongue and you feel his head turn with the inward rolling of his eyes, “anyways, Hori made a mistake and while he didn’t explicitly blame me when Maruhi came back from lunch, he apologized for our mistake. The audacity to include me in that.”

You nod along, humming to show you’re listening. He continues on for a while, letting go of the frustration he’s had pent up all the way through practice afterwards. He sighs out deeply afterwards, “but Yama called in my lunch break.”

You smile, continuing to let your pointer go up and down by his nose. Sometimes, he can only really fall asleep if you do the motion on him – he’ll never admit it, though. “How is he?” you ask excitedly and you see the smile gracing your boyfriend’s features.

Tsukishima inhales slowly before his smile breaks out fully, “he got hired by that electronic company he applied to!”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

Tsukishima nods along to your statement, the smile never really fading as he talks about his best friend. He continues to update you on your mutual friend’s college life, how he struggles with food and Tsukishima’s thinking of making a care package – though he phrases it like he thinks you should do it, you know what’s behind the request. You go along with a smile, “you can help me buy things for it, then. We’re going grocery shopping Saturday anyways, might as well get things for him too.”

You lean down and kiss your boyfriend’s forehead. When you pull away, you’re surprised to see a pout on his face and when you ask what’s wrong, he pointedly looks away from you. As you try coaxing out what’s wrong, his pout only deepens. Finally, he seems to steel himself, “I was hoping you were gonna kiss my lips.”

You let out a laugh – one that makes him shake around on your lap from how hard you’re laughing. You then lean down and kiss his lips. “I love you, Kei.”

Instead of replying, he simply leans up and kisses you again, lingering with a sigh. As your hand traces circles on his cheek, he mumbles out, “thank you for always helping me with headaches.”

You know it’s not just the physical headaches he’s referring to. You kiss him deeply with a smile.

and here is said, chaotic as hell, note <3

[yamaoops]

ALERT (💌) : ONE (1) NEW ORDER: 

order details : 

— from : zarah <3 

— about :  koutarou bokuto

— order : heart macarons filled with strawberries and cream

 thank you for requesting, your order is being processed now!

hello!! may i please order one heart macarons filled with strawberries and cream? my character choice is bokuto! and my personality i’m an introvert who likes reading books and playing video games. i think im very observant as well, and like to people watch haha! also i value my friends sm and i’d do anything for them! my favorite season is fall! 🍂

ps. your event is so nice i am excited for u!!! 🤩

— @bokutosworld​

a/n: thank you so much my love that’s so sweet of you!! i wanted to write about bokuto so thank you for requesting my darling! please do come and order again <33

(confession): KOUTAROU BOKUTO  —— “WE’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO DO”

now you and bokuto have been good friends throughout high school

(i mean, i feel like he’s the kind of person that knows something about everyone and is just really lovely and funny- you can’t dislike him??)

but of course, he trains a lot and you, being an incredibly good friend, always help him out

like reminding him to stay hydrated and eat early- because you’re just as lovely as he is!!

this tends to make bokuto feel a bit guilty- you’re doing so much to support him but he feels like he’s not doing what you

your phone wakes you up. you groan aloud, rub your eyes and turn around, blindly trying to grab at your phone, your hands pinched like the claws of a crab. you glance around- surely it’s too early for anyone to be calling

“y/N!”

you wince at how loud the voice is, turning the call volume down as you yawn, “kou..?” you ask sleepily, “it’s too early... is something wrong?”

“are you free later today?”

“if i get some sleep, maybe..”

“oh... well i’ll come ‘round to yours then! bye bye!”

you smile at how excited the boy sounds despite the early hour. you mumble a soft “bye...” back to him as you lie down and fall back into the arms of slumber.

morning arrives quickly, as they do when you sleep well and you wake up to a series of “good morning!!” texts from bokuto, all of which are adorned with a high saturation of colourful emojis- some of which you hadn’t even realised exists. you pull yourself from under the covers and shiver into a dressing room before going

by the time you’re downstairs, bokuto is in the kitchen, clearly comfortable, eating dry cereal from a wall whilst he talks to your mum. you raise an eyebrow, slightly amused at how comfy he seems to be. you note his clothes, “don’t you have practice later today?”

he shushes you softly, “akaashi knows- it’s going to be fine, we all deserve a break.”

you swallow a mouthful of toast before you glance at him, “i don’t want you to skip practice for me-”

“well, i can’t go to a cancelled practice, can i?” he winks, “the whole team deserve a break. and you deserve not doing stuff to me.”

“kou- i don’t mind helping-

“today we’re going to do whatever you want to do!”

and you do. the two of you go to town and recreate the flamboyant posters stuck onto the windows of ice cream parlours and flyers stuck on the doors of convenience stores. you buy lunch together and go to the library before returning back

“i should have asked kenma for some gaming tips.” bokuto groans as he lies down after you claim yet another victory

“oh please don’t- that boy is ruthless when it comes to games. i want to be able to beat you at something.” you giggle as he gives you a confused 

“you’re better than me at most things.”

“that’s... debatable.”

“y/n~” bokuto whines as he sits up again, “you’re good at so many things- you’re clever, kind, talented, funny as well as beautiful-”

bokuto clearly tenses when he realises what he just said. you glance at him in shock yourself, glancing down at your controller to avoid his gaze. he reaches hesitantly for your hand.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

“no! no, kou... i’m just surprised.”

the two of you are silent for some time.”

“i do feel the same kou...” you respond quietly, “i just... thought that... that it’d be a burden- i didn’t want to distract 

“yes but y/n i like you.” bokuto responds breathlessly, cheeks red in response, “you would never be a burden.”

you give him a small smile as he opens his arms for you. you laugh and enter his embrace as he holds you close. you look up at him after some time. he leans down to kiss you softly. your arms wrap around his neck as he pulls you close.

“believe me y/n- you will never be a burden to me.” he whispers as he pulls you close again.

thank you for ordering lovie!! if you enjoyed ordering, please do consider reblogging as it would really help me!!

sending hugs, kisses and valentine’s wishes,

���  liya

( p.s. check out the event here )

[mobtism]

what do you think of space and the ocean? Do you prefer one over the other

hate the rdj meme but yknow the version where it says smth like "theyre filled with wonder for the world" or smth like that? i think abt that meme often bc. yeah... thats me

edit: holy shit this ended up being a long post and i didnt even realize... adding a readmore

i love looking up at the stars a lot. i think its all very fascinating and beautiful. i wish stars were more visible where i live... but the suburban light lets only few shine through. i dont have a personal connection to the entirety of space, but stars... suns... theyre very important to me, a part of me. its why i use star emojis for my personal tags... stars and suns have important personal meaning to me,, but i wont get into it now... but i do associate myself with both. while its not exactly space... i do really love the sky. i love to spend time lying down outside and just gazing into it... i feel like a baby in a crib staring up at a mobile lmao. ive seen so many different, beautiful skies near home... purples and pinks and greens and yellows and blues... and no matter what, it's always enamoring to me. and i know its a bit cliché,, but i hope to one day see the northern lights. aurora borealis is a combination of multiple things that are near and dear to my heart: winter/snow... the night sky... and bright, colorful lights.

ive always had a love for the ocean though. aquatic animals are my favorites (alongside reptiles)... and the ocean is so very fascinating to me. in middle school, i had very much wanted to be a marine biologist. i loved learning about the ocean and everything in it. for the longest time, my favorite animal was an octopus, not for gross reasons, but because they are so fucking cool. i used to know so many facts about octopi, but i cant really remember much these days, only the basics... other aquatic animals that i love include, but not limited to: sharks, kraits, horseshoe crabs are my lil guys, my friends... i want to hold them in my hands. crabs in general r so v cool... chesapeake blue crabs are soooo pretty, pelagic red crabs are cool and so funky lookin i love them, they look like a mix btwn a lobster and a crab. however i think ghost crabs are my absolute favorites bc they are like, soooo the epitome of crab. and they come in a variety of colors too!!!!! gosh they are so cool. and they are so fucking neat dungeness crabs are cool too :-)

i also think shrimp are fascinating but i feel differently about them because i like to eat shrimp. manta rays are one of my top favs as well!! love them a lot i think theyre so cool... i could probably talk about aquatic animals for hours but i'll stop here. truly fascinated with all the little guys in there, including the eerie and ominous ones... i love the vastness and depth of the ocean, how inspiring it is to know so little about a world so big and crucial to our own. i have such a love for the water,, it is a piece of my heart... its one reason i love pirates and merfolk, why i would love to be one of either if that were possible. ive felt a connection to the water for as long as i can remember... growing up surrounded by large lakes and multiple small bodies of water too... however ive only seen and been to the ocean three times at the most. i hope to see it more someday, i have a feeling i will.

[asimawv]

I write and conceptualize story to music, so I’ve compiled a playlist of 30 Darkest Dungeon-specific songs that I listen to when writing (and subsequently re-writing) in no particular order, which I hope will help you set the vibe too. :+)

Names in bold are links for easy listening - tons of Hozier and Of Monsters and Men up ahead, five minute warning.

1. ‘Fire and the Flood’ - Vance Joy

If you listen to nothing else on this list, listen to this one - it’s the kind of song that’s made for movies about yearning. Folk influences, choruses of trumpets and vocal harmony, and instruments that are layered for a rich, resonant sound. This is the song I imagine Dismas and Reynauld horse-racing through a crowded outdoors market in the hamlet to, and the song I listened to nonstop freshman year when I first started writing The Myth of Sisyphus.

You're the fire and the flood And I'll always feel you in my blood Everything is fine When your hand is resting next to mine Next to mine You're the fire and the flood

The chorus is built around biblical allusions to the fire (the burning bush signifying first contact) and the flood (destruction of the first world), the beginning and end. Every line is similarly evocative of Darkest Dungeon in their simplicity (“I’ve been getting used to waking up with you,” etc.)

2. ‘Soldier, Poet, King’ - The Oh Hellos

By the title alone you can guess who this is for. Even the Guild quote for the Leper approaches these three things as the defining parts of his character (specifically it’s “a ruined man, a warrior, and a poet.”) This song coincidentally has an old world influence to it, with a Medieval Renaissance style from a guitar playing a lute-adjacent melody.

There will come a ruler Whose brow is laid in thorn Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei oh lai oh Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord Smeared with oil like David's boy, oh lei oh lai oh Lord

To be smeared with oil is to be anointed by a prophet and thus chosen by god himself to be king, just as David was and his boy after him (presumably Solomon). There’s something strangely wistful about the imagery, which is just how I like my songs about bygone kings.

3. ‘Exit Hymn’ - Bear Attack!

This song is about the end of the world in a version where everyone simply stands together in silence watching, rather than having the masses swarming in panic.

Lovely shapes to the world descending, Brothers and sisters. Lovely shapes to the world descending, Brothers and sisters Mute.

It defies Lovecraftian horror, which is based on the premise that “common human laws and interests and emotions have no validity or significance in the vast cosmos-at-large” - it flies in the face of existential nihilism and the despair that it should bring us. That’s why I like this song for deaths in the end-boss fight; it also has a special place for other death-related ideas, like full-party wipes - entire teams of people vanishing into the dungeons, gone insane, holding hands while the darkness surrounds them.

It’s a bare song which has a sanctity to it, mostly just piano and rain and human voices. Just what you would hear at the end of the world.

More under the cut:

4. ‘Pursuit of Glory’ - Jhameel

This song is laid-back. It doesn’t have the Homeric intensity that some of the other songs here do - it’s a guy with a guitar and vocal harmony. By god is it a great piece of writing though (all of Jhameel’s older songs have that quality to them), and all of it is evocative of Darkest Dungeon.

So many eyes set on the path to glory Too many ties, friendship is for the lonely Can't still my heart, my tongue has tasted folly Thirsty for art, hungry for power and money

This is a song for everyone in the barracks, especially the ‘laundry list’ of people and their approaches to the pursuit of glory.

5. ‘Good Old Days’ - Macklemore (feat. Kesha)

This fucker put a Macklemore song in here. I did, yeah. It’s not even the only song with Kesha in it here (I’m sorry.) 

It’s a sentimental pop song, and I am sentimental to a fault. This is Darkest Dungeon AMV material, and I always mishear one of the lines as “we were underground, loaded mercs in that 12-passenger van” so it’s here.

We've come so far, I guess I'm proud And I ain't worried about the wrinkles around my smile I've got some scars, I've been around I've felt some pain, I've seen some things, but I'm here now Those good old days

6. ‘Past Lives‘ - Kesha

Here it is, the other Kesha song - this was introduced to me by a good friend, also in a Darkest Dungeon context. There’s just something about the lovers spanning time trope and finding each other in one life to the next that is irresistible (for the obvious reason in the context of Darkest Dungeon.) It’s a soft song, totally out of place in Kesha’s typical discography, and has a line about losing someone to the crusades, so... you know.

There's just somethin' about you I know Started centuries ago though You see your kiss is like a lost ghost Only I would know But I, I keep on falling for you Time after time Time after time

7. ‘Viva la Vida’ - Coldplay

You cannot fight this. You know that this is the song for King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem, you know it is. Did you know the official name of this genre of music is “Baroque pop”? Yes, that means more songs like this exist. You will live with this information now.

Don’t fight it. Just let it wash over you.

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing Roman Cavalry choirs are singing Be my mirror, my sword and shield My missionaries in a foreign field For some reason I can't explain Once you go there was never, never an honest word And that was when I ruled the world

Mirror, sword, and shield, the three other members of his party, his missionaries in a foreign field. Thinking emoji. I typed that out so I wouldn’t have a repeat of the crab emoji incident.

8. ‘The Boxer’ - Jerry Douglas (feat. Mumford & Sons, Paul Simon)

Partly inspired by the Bible, Simon & Garfunkle’s ‘The Boxer’ is a folk rock song about poverty, loneliness, and homesickness. It’s written and sung in a style that’s strongly reminiscent of older times, and the final verse about its eponymous boxer is particularly powerful:

In the clearing stands a boxer And a fighter by his trade And he carries the reminders Of ev'ry glove that laid him down Or cut him till he cried out In his anger and his shame "I am leaving, I am leaving" But the fighter still remains

This is what I use for Dismas’ life leading into organized crime and his foolish abandonment of stable job prospects in a half-baked bid for fame, as well as being punched down over and over again but with nowhere else to go. That last part is widely applicable across the cast.

9. ‘I Will Wait’ - Mumford & Sons

I am but a simple man. I see 'folk rock' and add it to my Darkest Dungeon playlist. This song I use for Reynauld - it has that sort of “salt of the earth,” somewhat biblical humility in its choice of words and style. 

Raise my hands Paint my spirit gold And bow my head Keep my heart slow

10. ‘Little Lion Man’ - Mumford & Sons

Have we not beaten this song to death yet? Can you blame us? This is the people’s song. We reserve it for all of our favorite fuck-up characters, as primal as Saturn devouring his son. We love this song. Jesus.

Tremble for yourself, my man, You know that you have seen this all before Tremble little lion man, You'll never settle any of your scores Your grace is wasted in your face, Your boldness stands alone among the wreck Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck

The line about learning from your mother in particular is why I think of this song for Dismas’ introspection, but I also associate it with the Hellion.

11. ’From Eden’ - Hozier

There’s too much Hozier in my playlists. There is so much of it, and it’s all important to me, says the hoarder. There’s something about profoundly intimate folk music that I love, and god put folk, R&B, blues, and alt rock into a Vitamix for 45 seconds to make Hozier.

Honey you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

‘From Eden’ is, according to Hozier, about idolizing someone from a distance, written from the perspective of the devil “looking longingly at something he desires - for everything that he does not have.” I associate this song with the Grave Robber for its playfully nihilistic tone - Audrey does say something to the effect of being left for dead by high society and the affectionate bordering condescending address is on-brand.

12. ‘Cherry Wine’ - Hozier

‘Cherry Wine’ is unabashedly about domestic violence, and its sincerity is heartbreaking, the sanctification of the blood spilled in the name of keeping her.

The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine Open hand or closed fist would be fine The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.

This song is strongly tied to the Vestal for me.

13. ‘Work Song’ - Hozier

A song about unconditional love - heaven and hell were just words, indeed.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

I think of this song for both Dismas and the Abomination - it’s a song about love transcending spiritual and even physical need, complete devotion, but something about it is also not quite right. It’s morbid and excessive, self-pitying, and almost ugly in its sincerity.

14. ‘Sunlight’ - Hozier

The strong gospel influence with the choruses, church organ, religious fervor - I think it makes a great song for traveling scenes and church/altar scenes.

I had been lost to you, sunlight Flew like a moth to you, sunlight oh sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight (sunlight, sunlight) But it is sunlight

15. ‘Arsonist’s Lullabye’ - Hozier

The gospel this time is paired with electric rock instrumentation. Something about the lamentation is unapologetic and matter-of-fact in its disturbing inclinations - this is Paracelsus’ song. Arguably representative of Bounty Hunter and Flagellant as well.

Now that I think about it, it’s great for Abomination as well. Damn.

All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever tame your demons But always keep 'em on a leash

16. ‘We Sink’ - Of Monsters and Men

Of Monsters and Men are closer to the indie rock/pop spectrum with influences of folk, with much less biblical influence and more folklore-inspired lyrics. They make for great trailer and action songs.

We are the sleepers, we bite our tongues We set the fire and we let it burn Through the dreamers, we hear the hum They say come on, come on, let's go So come on, come on, let's go

In Lovecraft’s Cthulu mythos, dreams are how the Old Ones commune with humans on the earth’s surface while they slumber in the ocean depths (Cthulhu fhtagn meaning “Cthulhu is dreaming”); I like to think of the ‘sleepers’ as the heroes being tasked to “set the fire” and the ‘dreamers’ being the Heir and Ancestor driven by some unseen force to unearth the antediluvian underground.

17. ‘I Of The Storm’ - Of Monsters and Men

Very somber song, overwhelmingly piano and snare drum and vocals. Also a great death scene song, or for introspection around the campfire, or played to reveal a major event.

If I could face them If I could make amends With all my shadows I'd bow my head And welcome them

18. ‘King and Lionheart’ - Of Monsters and Men

My favorite OMAM song - it’s clearly written about two children, kind of reminiscent of ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ in its fantastical nature, and very upbeat about the end of the world.

His crown lit up the way as we moved slowly Pass the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind Though far away, though far away, though far away We're still the same, we're still the same, we're still the same

This part is reminiscent of the Leper’s journey, but the mentions of taking over a town, howling ghosts, the end of the world, a black sea and creatures lurking below, etc. are all evocative of Darkest Dungeon.

19. ‘Little Talks’ - Of Monsters and Men

Also very upbeat for its subject matter - according to OMAM, it’s a narrative of a woman speaking with the ghost of her dead husband, or going insane and believing that she’s speaking with her dead husband.

Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear 'Cause though the truth may vary This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore

The call-and-respond style of the song is haunting. I like this song for expeditions and afflicted heroes.

20. ‘Wolves Without Teeth’ - Of Monsters and Men

Suitable for both Occultist and Abomination, being consumed by an unseen and otherworldly force that inhabits them - well, maybe just rarely seen, in the Abomination’s case. Special mention to OMAM’s ‘Human,’ same conceptual backing but more raw.

You hover like a hummingbird Haunt me in my sleep You're sailing from another world Sinking in my sea, oh You're feeding on my energy I'm letting go of it He wants it

21. ‘Desierto’ (Original Motion Picture Score) - Woodkid

This is a full album, because all of it is dark orchestral cinema music described as ‘unsettling,’ with the sole exception of ‘Land of All,’ which has vocals to it. I reserve this album for writing fight scenes and for particularly unsettling events because it’s tense and wordless. I read Junji Ito to this soundtrack too, it’s insanely high-strung and discordant.

22. ‘Iron’ - Woodkid

‘Iron’ qualifies as Baroque pop - you might recognize this as the Assassin’s Creed: Revelations song. The large-scale, cinematic style of it and thematic lyrics make it great for writing about dramatic encounters or brigands.

This deadly burst of snow is burning my hands I'm frozen to the bones, I am A million miles from home, I'm walking away I can't recall your eyes, your face

23. ‘Never Let You Down’ - Woodkid (feat. LYKKE LI)

Another somber song, orchestral with some industrial noise in the mix - another great introspection song, or one for a scene with some hard decisions to be made.

Will you come along cause I'm about to leave this town In my eyes, a waterfall, all I can hear, a siren call Could you be waiting by the shore, oh I could drown without you Will you be holding out the line when I fall?

24. ‘Run Boy Run’ - Woodkid

Church bells, fast percussion, strong orchestral presence. For chase scenes, obviously, but great for fast-paced sneaking scenes as well. Also has a strong quasi-Medieval fantasy setting style to it.

Tomorrow is another day And you won't have to hide away You'll be a man, boy! But for now it's time to run, it's time to run!

25. ‘I Love You’ - Woodkid

Don’t let the scream effects and aggressive percussion at the beginning deter you (it kind of took me by surprise the first few times too) - it soon fades into more of the church bells and melodic string accompaniment.

Oh yeah, unrequited love song? It’s free (mental) real estate, baby.

Is there anything I could do Just to get some attention from you? In the waves, I've lost every trace of you Where are you?

26. ‘Vagabonds’ - Grizfolk

A rare departure from folk! Grizfolk is alt rock/indie pop. Stylistically it doesn’t match the feeling of Darkest Dungeon, but lyrically it’s almost 1:1 to arrival in the hamlet and the subsequent expeditions. Good song for writing about recruits bonding.

Oh this careless ground, guessing this is home now Oh in no man's land, at least we're still standing And we're all just fighting, some of us will not return And there's no redemption in trying to find your way out

27. ‘Everybody Wants To Rule The World’ - Lorde

Great trailer fuel, if you’ve seen the AC: Unity E3 trailer with this song - I listen to an extended version when writing fights in the Guild, especially one where two heroes are beefing. It’s got a primal kind of thing going on. I also associate this song with the Arbalest - lyrically, it fits her backstory like a glove.

Welcome to your life There's no turning back Even while we sleep We will find you

Acting on your best behavior Turn your back on mother nature

28. ‘Torches’ - X Ambassadors

More alt rock/indie pop - kind of a rallying song for dark expeditions, hopeful but still somber in nature - some gospel elements. X Ambassadors’ more popular ‘Renegades’ is also a fun tavern song.

Come on, carry your flame Carry it higher Leave it in the darkness Carry your torches

29. ‘Passing Afternoon’ - Iron & Wine

This is a song I use for reconciliation or domestic scenes - Dismas with Junia in the garden, for example. It’s soft and kind of meandering, and features vintage piano - you know, the piano you heard in the basement of your church turned community center as a child.

There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon Summer warmed the open window of her honeymoon And she chose a yard to burn but the ground remembers her Wooden spoons, her children stir her Bougainvillea blooms

30. ‘Some Nights’ - Fun.

You know this song, your mom knows this song, everyone knows this song from like, middle school. Thought it’d be fun to end this list on an uplifting and very popular song. This is the song that a Disney adaptation of Darkest Dungeon would use in the Training Montage™ - from the point of view of Reynauld. It hits all of the points - being their commander rather than their equal, his stern and antisocial zealotry with no true ideology behind it, the ghost of his wife.

Verse 2, starting with “Well, that is it, guys, that is all / Five minutes in and I'm bored again” is where I see it transitioning to Dismas.

Well, some nights, I wish that this all would end 'Cause I could use some friends for a change And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again Some nights, I always win (I always win) But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know

_____

Well that’s all from me! Feel free to leave your own recommendations in the replies, and I’d love to know what you think about my personal picks. :+)

[crewhonk]

Only Happy Accidents (two)

Summary: After being ghosted by YN, a girl he turned out really liking, Steve goes to her door to find out just what he did wrong.

Warnings: pregnancy test stress, gross food cravings, NatBucky fluff, stressed!Steve

Songs: “Archer”- Taylor Swift

Masterlist

____________________________

November 14th / 2nd Week

YN YLN felt like someone came down from heaven and took a shit on her face. She had felt wonderful since Steve had been over up until now, and she groaned, burying her face into her pillow and trying t find any lingering scents of Steve on her pillow. She made a noise in the back of her throat when she found nothing but the scent of her own shampoo. She reached over to her phone under her pillow and looked at it, a thrill shooting through her body when she saw that she had a text from none other than the Retired Captain America. 

From: Grandpa

Morning, pretty thing :)

The dork hadn’t sent her one single emoji, and she doubted that if he even knew what they were that he would like them. ‘too kiddish’, she could hear him say and she kicked her feet like a teenager. 

To: Grandpa

Morning, handsome! How was ur morning so far??

She locked her phone and checked the date on the lockscreen, squinting at the number suspiciously. There was something supposed to be happening right now. Today was a Thursday, so she had it off, but there was something else personally. 

Her eyes widened, and every nerve in her body felt as if it had been dipped in ice water. 

She was supposed to have gotten her period eight whole days ago. 

She ripped her blankets off of her, and pulled her pants down, groaning when there was no blood to be found and cursing to herself. She had always been regular with her cycle. She tracked it, and took vitamins and magnesium and iron supplements and even went sustainable with it— got a diva cup and everything. Sure, her period sucked but it was usually one thing that she could count on to be on time. 

She rushed to the bathroom to splash water on her face and wracked her brain to try to remember if she and Steve had used protection. They had in the morning, she knew— she made sure to roll the condom on herself and everything but the night before was so quick and hurried and oh, God. No. No they had not used protection. 

Fuck. 

“MICHAELA!” She screamed, walking quickly out to the kitchen where her best friend and roommate was, hunched over some law books and eating her smoothie bowl breakfast. YN didn’t even bother teasing her about it and met Michaela’s surprised eyes with her own very, very scared ones. 

“What? Are you bleeding out? What the fuck?” She yelled back, clutching her heart while moving to mop up the glass of water she spilled across the island. 

“No I’m— okay, so you know the guy I had over on Halloween that I told you about?” She started and Michaela nodded nervously. 

“Magic Dick Steve? I remember.”

“Well I don’t think— I don’t think we used protection? The first time? We were both pretty drunk and—“ YN had started to shake. “And I might be reading into it too much but I’ve been really tired lately and my boobs are really, really sore and I’ve been really nauseous? Maybe It’s the flu but I’ve— my period it late.” She finished, and watched as Michaela’s eyes widened. 

“You’re never late.” She whispered, and YN felt tears well up in her eyes. 

“I know.” She mumbled and Michaela stood, walking around the counter and pulling her to her. She hugged her tightly and pulled away, dragging YN down the hallway and back to the bathroom. 

“I didn’t tell you this, but a few months ago when you were in Peru with that Anthropology dig, me and Charlie had a scare and I got a whole bunch of these guys.” She held up a box of thin, paper pregnancy tests from the bottom cabinet. 

“Isn’t that when you went off your pill?” She asked, taking the box. Michaela nodded. 

“Yeah, turns out my body freaked out hugely and said ‘fuck you’ to my period that month.” She shrugged. “Take a few, and we’ll take it from here, okay?”

________________________

So, YN peed in a disposable mouthwash cup (and on her hand a little bit, but we won’t talk about that) and dipped three tests into it, laying it out on the edge of the tub and sliding down he closed door after setting a timer on her phone. Time seemed to become impossibly slow for three whole minutes and she jolted violently when her phone went off. She checked it, and tears welled up in her eyes when she saw that she had gotten a text from Steve. 

From: Grandpa

I’m pretty good. miss you though.

She put her phone back down and stood, opening the door and calling shakily from Michaela. She showed up seconds later, and wiped YN’s tears from her face. 

“I can’t— I can’t look.” She whimpered and Michaela shushed her softly. 

“You can.” Her voice acted as an anchor for which YN could ground herself with and she tried to move her feet towards the tests. 

“What do I do with Steve? I can’t— it would trap him. I don’t even know the guy. I can’t just drop a bomb like that on him when we haven’t even gone on a date yet.” She cried and Michaela frowned, her heart breaking for her friend. 

“From what you’ve told me, he’ll be there for you. He seems like a good guy. Now, let’s look, okay?”

YN nodded and with the help of Michaela, walked across the bathroom and ducked down to see if there was anything other than the first red line. She squinted, and let out a huge breath when there was no line on the first two tests. She checked the last one, and every organ in YN’s body burst into flames when she thought she could see a second, very faint line. 

“Michaela.”

“What.”

“Is that a second line? On the last test.” She whispered, as if raising her voice any louder was going to make the line darker. Michaela leaned in close and squinted, freezing when she did, in fact, see the second line. 

“I think so. I think it is.” She confirmed, and YN’s knees gave out. Her hand absently fell to her lower stomach and she lower lip trembled. 

“This may not be it, though okay? Let’s go to Planned Parenthood and get a real test, okay? Then we can spend thirty dollars on a really good test and we’ll make a plan from there, okay?” Michaela sunk other knees and held YN’s face, wiping more tears away and offering her a small smile. 

“Okay.”

_______________________

There was no way that all ten tests in front of her were wrong. There was no way the printed diagnosis from Planned Parenthood and a pamphlet reading ‘Plans For The Single Parent’ were telling her that her uterus was empty. There was no way the Clearblue test reading ‘Pregnant: 2-3 weeks’ was wrong— it better not be, considering it was a whole thirty dollars. 

YN sat staring at them, bouncing her leg and glancing at her phone every few seconds, half expecting for Steve to already know despite his three unresponded-to-texts still on her lock screen. She could hear Michaela talking to her boyfriend, Charlie in the other room and YN felt truly and utterly alone.

However, her hand had yet to leave her stomach during the whole day, as if the idea of a baby being in there (despite it being no more than a bunch of cells at this point) was a point fo focus for her. Despite the overwhelming elements fo her situation, there was a flutter of excitement in her chest. She had never wanted kids, and then the snap happened, and she was gone and then she was back, and her dad, who was in a plane during the snap had fallen from 5 miles in sky and landed belly first in the ocean. But now that it was a very real possibility, she couldn’t help but get a little excited. 

There was one one person she truly wanted to talk to, right now. The urge to hear their voice overpowered any other feeling and YN reached for her phone, choosing the first contact she recently texted and waited as the phone rang. 

“Hello?”

“Mom? I need your help.”

_______________________

November 31st, 4th Week

“This is probably the grossest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Why are you making this monstrosity in my house?” Michaela groaned, pulling the neck of her turtleneck sweater over her nose as she walked into the kitchen. YN rolled her eyes and shook her head, bouncing lightly to the music playing from her laptop. 

“Just because you’re the pickiest human in the world doesn’t mean other people can’t eat fun foods,” YN replied, lifting the lid on the stove and sniffing deeply. 

“Canned crab with sauerkraut on crackers is not a fun food.” Michaela grumbled and sat at the counter. YN rolled her eyes and stirred the pot, shrugging her shoulders. 

“What baby wants baby gets.” She replied simply and closed the lid, leaning against the counter beside the stove and cocking her head. “Would you prefer boiled clams in hot sauce  or crushed up Doritos dipped in a Starbucks Frappuccino to this or—?” YN trailed off and Michaela gagged openly, covering her mouth. 

“Maybe a salad. With nutrients that the baby needs.” She replied and YN rolled her eyes, opening the cabinet beside the fridge and turning around to stare at Michaela. Her eyes raked over the prenatal supplements and vitamins marked for different days of the weeks and then to the daily pill organizer in YN’s hand. 

“I’ve also cut my coffee from five cups to half a cup because I’m paranoid and I’m not eating dairy, which is hard because you know how much I loved pineapple and cottage cheese together. And this is the only meal I’ve been able to eat this week without getting nauseous and throwing up.” She commented, turning back and turning off the stove. Michaela walked over and leaned over the pot, wrinkling her nose but grabbing a spoon nonetheless. 

“I’m going to try it. Not because I’m curious but because I’m supporting my single-pregnant best friend.” She said, saying a little prayer and shoving the goopy mess into her mouth. She froze, chewed once and gagged, grabbing YN’s hand and spitting the mouthful of food into her hand. 

“I hate you.” She grumbled and stuck her head under the sink, rinsing her mouth and making her laugh loudly, clutching her chest. It was only seconds after that there was a knock on their door which YN made to get. She turned to her friend and pointed. 

“I made you do nothing. That was fully consensual on your part.” She laughed, spinning and opening the door with a smile. 

It was Steve. Holding a bouquet of her second favourite flowers. Smiling nervously with those blue eyes and big muscles and beard and short, carefully styled hair. She remembered in flashes the sound he made when he moaned. The sound he made when she made him laugh. The way he looked sucking whipped cream off her finger. The way his voice sounded that one time when they talked until five in the morning. 

So, she did what any sensible person did and slammed the door in his face. 

At the sound, Michaela walked around the corner, peeking behind YN to see that the door was still closed. There was a knock and Steve’s voice saying something YN couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in her ears. 

“Who is it?” Michaela whispered, seeing the fear in her eyes. 

“Steve.” YN replied, her mouth feeling as if it was stuffed with cotton. Michaela pushed past her and looked through the peep hole, ducking immediately and turning to her with wide eyes. 

“That’s Steve?! You fucked Captain America on our kitchen counter and then hand fed him waffles?” Michaela whisper-yelled. 

“First off, he’s not Captain America anymore. Sam Wilson is, and second yes. Steve isn’t really an uncommon name so..” YN trailed off uselessly and Michaela looked to YN’s stomach. 

“Well I mean it makes sense,” Michaela said quickly. “All of your symptoms are stronger and you only had sex once without protection so it makes sense he has super sperm.” He said and YN shushed her as if Steve was on the other side with his ear to the door. 

“What do I do.” YN deadpanned and Michaela bit her lip. 

“You know what I think you should do. I think it’s time to tell him.” She said and YN nodded, wiping her hands on her pants and walking to the door, hesitating briefly before turning the doorknob and opening it. 

“YN. Hi.” He seemed breathless, and he looked at her softly. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I should have texted, but you weren’t responding and I got worried.”

YN shook her head and opened the door wider. “Steve, I think you should come in. We need to talk.” She whispered, and his shoulders fell as if he was expecting her to say something like this. 

“I figured.” He mumbled, handing Michaela the flowers and following YN to the living room where she pulled a shoe box from the shelf under the table and placed it on the top. 

“What’s going on, YN? Did I do something wrong?” He asked, turning towards her. She sat straight, not taking her eyes off the box in front of her and shaking her head. 

“You’ve been perfect Steve, and none of this is your fault, I should have been more responsible.” She whispered, her throat thick. She could hear Michaela eavesdropping from the kitchen. 

“Then what—?” He trailed off and went to touch her, but pulled away at the last second, not wanting to upset her further. 

“Something happened and I don’t— I don’t know what to do.” She said, finally looking at him with shining eyes. His face crumpled at the sight of her tears and h scooted closer to her, grabbing her hand gently. 

“I can help, YN. Whatever it is I can help you.” He said softly, holding her hand in both of his own. 

“I couldn’t ask that of you, Steve. Not with this— we hardly know each other.” She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She noticed briefly how good Steve looked in his brown coat and jeans and scarf and boots but shook her head when her periphery caught sight of the box on the table. 

“YN.” He said sternly and she melted slightly, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“I’m pregnant, Steve. The baby is yours— it has to be. There hasn’t been anyone since the snap except for you.” She finally said in one quick breath, she looked up at him to gauge his reaction. His face was a flat of marble, no expression or emotion in his eye. She half expected him to stand up and walk out until she remembered that this was, in fact, Steve Rogers and walking away from a challenge was unheard of. That’s what the textbooks said, anyways. She lifted the cover on the box and he peered in, eyes widening when he saw all the tests and pamphlets she had been reading and collecting. 

“Okay.” He said finally and he seems to be wracking his brain for something to say. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Were you just going to wait until you had him to tell me and collect money or something?” He asked. YN raised her eyebrows and shook her head fervently. 

“No, no, no, no, Steve. I would never. I just didn’t— I don’t— know what to do.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, reassuring her by his tightened grip on her hand. 

“I wasn’t sure how to tell you and what you would want to do with her.” She said and he raised his eyebrows. 

“It’s a girl?” He whispered, looking down to her stomach. She shook her head. 

“No, she’s nothing more than a bunch of cells, but ‘she’ just comes naturally to me? You said she was a ‘he’ earlier, so.” She smiled softly and he returned it, not looking away from her stomach. 

“Well, what are the options?” He asked, looking up at her and she shook her head. 

“One, I keep her and you leave.” She started and he looked genuinely affronted. 

“Not a chance. Next.”

“I go to Planned Parenthood—“

“No. Next.”

“I keep her, and you stay.” She whispered, looking up at him nervously. He froze, but nodded surely and cleared his throat. When he spoke he sounded rather choked and it made tears return o her eyes. 

“That’s an option for you?” He whispered and she nodded. 

“It’s my ideal option, Steve. This is your baby too.” She replied, equally quiet. He looked up and pulled her closer to him and she let it happen. Now, their thighs were pressed against the other and their heads were closer together. 

“You move into my place, though. I’ll get rid of my office so we can make it into a nursery and I keep work at work and family at home. I’d like to know you’re both safe.” He said, jumping to what he wanted to happen. She nodded. 

“That’s petty reasonable.” She commented. “I don’t have much, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.” 

“Your turn. Name a demand.” He returned and she wracked her brain. 

“I want to go part-time at work, but I won’t if we can’t afford it.” She said. Thinking about the cost of things came naturally to her since she had grown up in the Bronx.

“Babe.” He whispered, amused and smiling. 

“What?” She whispered back, smiling as well. 

“I have about 100 years of government compensation in my bank account. Plus I was a Stark Employee and an Avenger for twelve years. Money isn’t an issue, I promise.” He explained, and she nodded. The relief that had washed over her then was overwhelming and she coughed into her fist, a sob building in her throat. 

“Sorry,” She choked, rubbing her eyes. “This happens a lot.” 

“It does!” They heard a voice from the kitchen and YN glared a the door. 

“Fuck you, Michaela!”

“Promise?” She called back and Steve smiled, chuckling lowly. 

“Your turn.” She said, nudging him. He sucked in a breath and thought hard. 

“I’m at all the appointments. I’m at all the classes. We don’t announce it to the public, but we don’t hide the fact that you’re pregnant. I’ll have to talk to Pepper soon, but only when you’re ready. I want to be in this with you. The whole ride.” He said and YN blinked more tears out of her eyes. He pulled his jacket off and pulled his sweater sleeve over his fist and wiped them from her face gently. She sucked in a breath and leaned into his touch slightly, not fighting it when he pulled away from her. 

“Good.” There was a pause of silence before he shifted nervously, a new idea popping into his head. “What?” She asked. 

“This is gonna be a little extreme, actually.” He sounded afraid, but she nodded for him to continue despite her own nerves rising. “I’ve been learning that it’s okay to have kids with your boyfriend or girlfriend now, and that’s really great and cool but it doesn’t work for me.” He said and she looked up at him, alarmed. 

“What?”

“We don’t have to, but my Ma would roll in her grave if she found out I had a kid with someone that I wasn’t uh— legally bound to.” He winced at the formality of his own words. 

“I don’t think I understand,” She said. She did, she just didn’t quite believe what exactly he was asking her. 

“I would like to marry you. It’s really important for me that my kid is uh— mine. And was born into a marriage, you know?” Steve’s voice seemed far away as he continued to speak, and YN swayed in her seat. 

“YN?” He asked, watching her eyes become unfocussed and falling for Michaela. She heard nothing more before her eyes closed and she slumped back on the couch, unconscious. 

________________________

The first thing YN remembered when she woke up was a cool cloth being pressed to her forehead. She sighed at the sensation, rolling her head away from the glaring light from the window and opened her eyes, smiling as Michaela looked down at her. 

“Hey, Mich. I had the weirdest dream.” She started, groaning a the pounding headache in her brain and sitting up slowly. “Remember Steve? Magic Dick Steve? Yeah. That’s Steve Rogers. Anyways, I had a dream that I was pregnant with his kid and he asked me to marry him. He was wearing his suit, though which as weird because I couldn’t see his face behind his helmet-hat-thing.” She mumbled, rubbing her forehead. 

“That wasn’t a dream, YN.” Said a low voice from the kitchen. YN looked over and her eyes widened when she saw Steve Rogers walk through the door, a plate of crackers and crab and sauerkraut in his hands. There was also a reusable mouthwash cup filled with her medication and a bottle of water in his other hand. 

“Holy Moses, baby Jesus in the garden be with me.” YN prayed briefly and accepted the plate of food from him, piling it into her mouth much to the amusement of Steve and the disgust of Michaela. 

“It’s the same thing my ma used to crave, actually.” Steve shrugged. “I tried to make it one time back in the day for mothers day but the only fish I could afford was the crawdaddies from the pond down the street and the crackers I stole from Bucky’s house. I couldn’t even use the stove, yet so everything was raw.” He smiled when she laughed loudly at his story. “Yeah, she wasn’t too big of a fan but she appreciated it all the same.” 

“That’s really cute, Rogers.” She smiled.

“I’m sorry for dropping that request on you, I never meant to hurt you.” He muttered eventually and she shook her head.

“I’ve actually fainted twice already so it isn’t too much of a big deal, but yeah. That was a good request.” She scratched her nose and took all the pills at once, gulping down half the bottle with it and leaning on her elbows. 

“I’m sorry again.” He whispered and she shook her head. 

“It’s your kid, Steve. It only makes sense you would want that for her.”

“Him.” He teased and she rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll do it.” She said finally and his head whipped over to her as fast as lightning. She was half worried that she would need to take him to the hospital incase he tore something. 

“What?”

“I’ll marry you. I think you’re a pretty great guy, Steve and I’m not getting any younger, anyways.” She shrugged and Michaela gaped at them like a fish. 

“You’re 24, YN.” She scolded and she looked at her friend. 

“And my baby daddy wants to stick around and support us. It’s only fair I do this for him.” She shrugged, looking between their stunned faces.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, aghast and shocked but looking sedately overjoyed. 

“As sure as I’ll ever be, Rogers.” She stuck out her hand and he looked at it with a raised eyebrow. “You take care of me and your kid and I marry you? Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.” She commented and he took her hand in his. 

“It’s a deal, then.” He smiled softly and tried his damned best to not jump across the couch and kiss her. This was never how he wanted to propose to someone, but hey, he was 106. Never a time like the present, right?

“Damn it.” Michaela swore. The newly-engaged couple looked over at her and she shook her head at both of them. “I’m gonna have to find a craigslist roommate aren’t I?”

_____________________

Tag List (send me an ask, ONLY. must interact with the fic more than a like): yesfanficsaremylife / notyourtypicalrose /  laurxn-robinson / disaster-rose / lille-kattunge / wwecrazed2010 / vxidnik / chewingoffmyfoot / vitamingrant / captainamericasbeard / chrisgalore / songforhema

[hellishvu]

Imagine BTS: when you propose to them

— this is clownery. fkskdk i really love the ideas and i tried to not make it like every marriage imagine but so many wonderful writers !! i probably have a similar idea with someone but me posting constantly ??? everyday?? getting REQUESTS DONE??? im a whole new person, i will open requests soon so get those juices flowing with ideas if you want to request something.

a/n: once again!! will edit in the morning, i should really stop writing at midnight (｀・ω・´)

Kim Namjoon: ˚✧₊⁎

The beach has been Namjoon’a secret favorite spots. Places that he’s shared with you, the many trails, beaches, forests, parks, or rivers. He’s shown you all of them.

You had noticed that he comes often to a beach. You believe that it was his favorite plac eojt of all of them. Playing with the crabs and always telling you watch your step so you don’t step on one. If you did he would kneel down to it and say in a small voice “sorry”. Taking photos of him unaware seeing his pure care of the creatures of the planet. Always texting you asking you watered the plants at home you two share.

So planning this was difficult because you wanted to place the ring on a crab and put it on his chest while he is a asleep so he wakes up to it but there is so many variables that could wrong. Like if the crab decides to steal the expensive ring and walk into the ocean for its shiny collection or the crab just pinches Namjoon instead.

The blanket was set while Namjoon explores his backpack looking for the snacks and the soft nap blanket that was made for the outside. Him yawning due to the drive here was long, kissing you a little while you were in his arms. The smiles and giggles you two exchanged while all your mind was filled wirh is “I want to be with this man for the rest of my life.”

Namjoon soon fell asleep with the sunscreen barely rubbed onto his skin due to him being so sleepy. You place the blanket on top of him making sure the sun doesn’t crisp him to death. Soon finding a crab that was big enough and friendly enough to hold in your hand.

“Hello little guy.” You coo at it seeing it walk a little around your hand, pulling out the ring box seeing it the shell was flat enough and big enough for it.

The set up was different trying to place a crab on Namjoon’s chest while trying not to wake him up nor let the ring fall off the crab. Scene was set and you waited till you grew the guts to wake him up.

“Hmm.. what?” Namjoon almost rolls over you widening your eyes to keep him in place. He looks at you seeing you basically sweat bullets wondering when he would feel that weight.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asks while you feel your heart beating faster looking at the crab trying to signal him to look at it! Rubbing his eyes he looks down, seeing the ring box open with the shiny simple band of metal displayed on the crab.

“You can not be serious.” Namjoon in utter shock of how you got a crab to be this calm and that you were proposing. He felt the cheeks rise up in heat feeling those moments of love rush back to him.

“You did not!” Namjoon picks up the crab slowly seeing it look around having no clue what it’s got itself into. Namjoon picking up the ring box observing the ring. You trying to read his facial expression.

“Namjoon will you do me the honor of a lifetime, to marry me?”

Kim Seokjin: ˚✧₊⁎

Seokjin loves going on vlive because well, it was a chance to connect to army all over the world. That he gets to read their sweet messages and questions that they get the opportunity to get to know him better.

Currently tonight all the members were asleep or too tired from all the recent shows so it was just him. He couldn’t help but feel nervous almost but it soon washed over him when he was talking or rambling about his day. Tonight was the last day you both had time to hang out before the next few weeks would be full of busy hours.

You had asked the members before if they could pretend to be asleep or tired so it was just him. Him and you with the audience of millions but you knew all that you would be too busy staring at was him. While Seokjin was busy reading the comments you walked in unnoticed shushing the camera so the army wouldn’t say anything.

Kneeling on one leg you heard Seokjin let out a “huh” but you noticed he didn’t realize you were there. From the distance you could make out thecomments that were being spammed in the chat “Will you marry him?” Seokjin tilted his head till he looked in the camera seeing not only himself but you.

“No way. No you-” Seokjin turns his chair around seeing you grin happily, you seeing the comments with love emojis.

“Kim Seokjin, you have changed me in so many ways. You made me into a man that is blessed for you to be mine. You always say your jokes for me that I will never get tired of listening to. You’ve shown me the world of places I never knew existed. Please let me become your forever faithful lover, will you marry me?” You say seeing Seokjin hold your hand squeezing it while he tries to keep himself together. Wiping your own tears while he nods.

You place the ring on his finger, Seokjin raises his head when he heard all the members walking in with a cake. The happy cheers and songs being sung while they jump up and down. You were sure that the near by hotel rooms would complain but you saw Seokjin smile grow 10x more. Kissing you showing off his now filled with love ring finger.

“I can not believe you did that.” Seokjin chuckles on your chest. You looking at his finger that is glistening in the light him still not being able to stop staring at it.

“Well I want the world to see that love exists, between all genders. The little representation.” You say seeing the box for the ring sitting on his drawer with the photo of you two. Seokjin turning around pecking your lips whispering a “thank you”.

Min Yoongi: ˚✧₊⁎

Yoongi is always down to try new things with you, but you might’ve taken it too far when you suggested a karaoke night. He came out of the room seeing you all dressed up, thinking you meant to stay home and watch those karaoke youtube videos.

“What are you doing? Get ready!” You pout seeing Yoongi turn right back around to the bedroom. Finding an outfit, the classic black bucket hat and a vline shirt that you gave him one christmas.

“Look at my beautiful boy.” You twirled him around, grumbling something that you’re cheesy. Kissing on his lips gently.

Once you two arrived at the karaoke bar, you ordered a special private room so Yoongi isn’t paranoid that someone will recognize him or worst reveal you two’s location. Walking in seeing the alcohol freshly opened by one of the workers.

“Why don’t I go first.” Suggesting you poured some alcohol in your glass drinking it before getting up to sing. This was part of the plan, you went to the karaoke room checked out the songs and begged them to insert some of you and Yoongi’s songs.

You heard shocking comments of the songs that Yoongi knows, the songs that you two connected to. Clicking on the first song it played getting the sweats seeing Yoongi raise up his glass cheering you on.

Singing closing your eyes because you were honestly scared of seeing Yoongi’s reaction. Afraid that you’ll sound like a dying goose or something. You slowly opened your eyes seeing Yoongi in trance of your singing, knowing it coming from deep in your heart. That you sang this song when you were alone missing him.

Before Yoongi can say anything the next song played, him sensing that these songs were too aligned. The first song was the first date song that played while you kissed him goodbye on his front door and now the second song was him asking you to be his boyfriend at a concert. The favorite artist you two shared, it was connecting too much.

His suspension was right when the next song was you jumping around singing the moving in song, the one that played while you two unpacked and bought furniture, feeling tired from the trips you blasted he song jumping around with him.

The last song was put, Yoongi is ready for anything but the last thing he expected was you proposing. That was the goal at the end of the night, singing your heart out earning giggles from him. The last lyric came to a stop, you singing it softly kneeling down on one knee.

“Yoongi will you marry me and connect our beats to one song?” Very cheesy you know, but it didn’t stop Yoongi from grinning widely his gums showing.

Jung Hoseok: ˚✧₊⁎

Hoseok has been loving the stage, ever since he first stepped on it he has adored it. To be able to show his talent, his love, and his passion for music and dance it was a dream come true that he got that as his full time job.

The charmisa he holds on stage makes any stranger or army completely in love with the show. With the thrills of the stage you decided that is where you would propose. It took a lot of convincing to security and staff to get approved and the fan project that you got organized from the loveliest people on this earth.

It was the end of the show almost, the members coming back stage for once more getting their outfits ready and make up. The rush of getting ready never stopped Hoseok from him kissing you and thanking you for coming. You always did come and always felt proud seeing him on stage no matter how many times you’ve seen it.

“Honey, after show we could get take out? Eat in your room. So the members don’t complain of me giggling like a school girl.” Hoseok asks while he changes into the fancy outfit. The metal belts and buttons seeing it looked like a prince.

“I would love to, now go back out there.” You kissed him, you wrap your hand around his waist pulling him closer to you. Missing his warmth and touch.

“I love you!” Hoseok yells out while he speed walks waving at you. You saw the entire staff look at you, thanking yourself he didn’t touch your butt or else he would’ve felt a box.

“I guess it’s show time.” You said soon enough you heard the loud blasting music come back on hearing the army scream once more.

Honestly you were terrified being in front of that many people anyone would be nervous and you didn’t want to get a no. You could get ran over and it still wouldn’t hurt more than getting rejected by Hoseok. You love him so much that you would go beyond to just see him smile.

They qued you to go and you felt pressure in your chest seeing your hand shake. The entire time you got on the steps walking you felt your knees wobble but you kept it together. The army screamed louder when the camera pan to you showing the “Spring Love Time” on the large monitor. Hoseok having no clue what was happening till the music cut the members all looking at him, they knew what was going on.

The instrumental of Spring Day starting, Hoseok looking behind him seeing you walk. Obviously not knowing where to stare till you landed your eyes on him. The eye contact was strong but he had no clue what was happening. Army started singing and the rest of bts sang the voices of the people he loves to death.

“What is happening?” Hoseok asks Jungkook trying to laugh his way out of this. He didn’t know about this staff never told him this was part of the plan.

You took his hand reaching behind your pocket pulling the ring out seeing his face. His laughs slowly turned into sobs seeing all the wonderful voices and you being in front of him. His mic was cut so you two could have some privacy, Hoseok full blown sobs.

“Hoseok will you—” Hoseok intruptped you hugging you, you lifting him off the air while he cries on your shoulder. You took it as a yes smiling seeing the army light bombs switch to pastel colors. The lights of support.

Park Jimin: ˚✧₊⁎

Jimin spent his absolute hardest to not break the secret of him wanting to propose to you, buying the ring on tour. Trying to sneak by all the people and cameras to get the privacy he needs to buy a ring and keep it a secret from you.

Of course he asked all of the members, knowing he can count on them for any advice espically if it was life changing advice. They all asked what his idea to propse and he was kinda out of focus, that he just wanted to do it! Jimin wants to make it official that you’re his soulmate and lover for the rest of his life.

At first Jimin couldn’t decide on the ring, he went to multiple shops all over the world. Sometimes saying no to saying he’ll contact them if he agrees with them. Sighing once he got back to the hotel seeing the photo frame he took everywhere of you two.

“I’ll find you something perfect just like you.”

On one of the many ring looking days you decided that mid day of him looking through rings you wanted to face-time him. Panicking he answers.

“Where are you?” You ask when he turns around away from the rings, only seeing a fancy dark room with special painting. “Is that a jewelry store?” Again you pushed it seeing Jimin look around.

“Yeah just buying some jewelry for myself.” Lying Jimin hopes you buy it. He never lies to you but this was for the greater good.

The last day, the last tour date Jimin finds that one. The one that screams you, the perfect shiny metal ring he bought it in a instant once he laid his eyes on it. The velvet box softly placed in his palm once he bought it.

The day you two got back together, face to face finally. Kissing him at the private section of the airport. You saw many people pass by such as security and the members, but they stopped wrapping around you two like a circle. It was go time for you, you two being protected from the swarms of people.

You got down on your knees and before you could say a thing Jimin laughs throwing his head back, no way this was happening. You were not proposing at the same time he was.

“Funny you said that.” Jimin pulls the velvet box from his bag, you looking up still on your knees in utter complete shock.

“Is that a yes?” You ask. Him dumbfounded that you ever think he wouldn’t say yes.

“Of course!” Jimin and you exchange rings almost like you two were already married. Feeling like home seeing Jimin’s chuckles and just his face.

Kim Taehyung: ˚✧₊⁎

Taehyung and you two went out just a casual dinner but fancy enough you two dressed for. Taehyung doing his hair while you took your chance of his distraction to check everything. The ring? Check. Breath fresh? Check. Looked nice? Check.

Walking in at the restaurant, sitting at the usual spot sharing and catching up. The funny stories while he was on tour and you sharing what you did when he was gone. Sharing your hobbies and their progress.

“You’re wearing the scarf I gave you.” Taehyung presses his hand on the warm fabric around your neck. Taehyung always shared his fashion discovers with you, always wanting to try new things.

“Of course of course.” You repeat yourself, when the main meal was served you felt the heat rise up. Didn’t know if it was the restaurant or the sudden realization that you’re going to propose in a few minutes. Drinking the cold water trying to cool off, seeing Taehyung enjoying his meal.

Once he was done, you walked around to his side. Him wondering what you were doing till you spoke to him, the loving eyes. The eyes that first spoke to him, the spark so great it could produce electricity. Kneeling down Taehyung was seconds from answering your question.

“Water?” A watior obviously new to the job asks.

“No.” Taehyung blurts out, you looking at him and then the waiter wondering who he is saying no to.

“What are you saying no to me? Or him?” Once again asking, thinking this couldn’t get worse.

“Water?”

“I said ‘No’” Taehyung said again, your knees starting to hurt from still kneeling while this was happening. Finally the waitor gets the memo to let you two have a moment.

“I’m sorry sir, I thought you were tying your shoe.” The waitor gets flustered, not trying to get fired on his week of this new job. Taehyung couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“You get a yes from me. Why would you ever think I wouldn’t say anything else?” Pressing his lips against yours. This was the story for the books, to share with generations.

Jeon Jungkook: ˚✧₊⁎

When you knew you wanted to marry this beautiful gorgeous man your mind went completely blank because you didn’t want to overboard him with a jazzy dancing group that is singing Bruno Mars but you also didn’t want to just take him out. You wanted to make it special. Somehow.. you could make it something unforgettable.

So when you were brainstorming with the rest of the members because well they know him just as much as you do maybe more. They gathered in a circle spilling ideas back and forth others were interesting like scuba diving with sharks while the sharks mouth would have the ring. That was quickly put off the table. Trying to grab each element of each idea that the members shared.

The idea came together, to bring the love of sweets that Jungkook had and combined it with the ring. Somehow you arranged it with the bakery the one that has known you two for years that have seen the relationship grow.

Jungkook was excited, basically jumping in the seat when you drove them there. You told him the excuse of a decorate your own cupcake event they were holding. Opening the door you heard the little ring, Jungkook waving at the cashiers that he considers friends.

“We are here for the decorate your own cupcake thingy!” Jungkook cheers seeing the cupcakes freshly baked on display. You nod at the cashiers giving the code, smiling at Jungkook they lead you two to the back.

It was obvious which one had the ring so you wouldn’t end up proposing to yourself. Jungkook was passed the ring cake, going more into the bakery the place filled with treats and creams to put on the cupcake.

With Jungkook’s hands the cupcake was quickly drowned in sweets, you wondering how he could eat so much sugar. Settling with your favorite, you saw Jungkook finally finish, placing them together Jungkook's mess of a cupcake but it was a cute mess.

When you two sat down, you couldn’t even eat your own cupcake the nerves hitting your stomach the most. Smiling you bite into your cupcake almost choking on it when you saw Jungkook eat it all whole.

“Jungkook!” You scream out when he swallows it, the chews he made. Shocking that he didn’t bite on the actual ring didn’t need to pay for dental care.

“What?” Jungkook tilts his head, you seeing the bakery workers trying to hold in their laughter. You rubbed your temple with your hand.

“I was going to propose.”

“Oh- well you still can, where is the ring?” Jungkook asks seeing there was no different reaction after he said that. Jungkook connected the pieces looking back at the bakery workers.

“I’m sorry!” He screams out, getting out of his chair standing pushing your head into his chest. Saying sorry over and over.

“Do you guys have ring pops?” Jungkook asks, the workers looking at each other before taking out some donuts. That will work, the proposal ended up you two having donuts around the ring finger.

[vegetalass]

Dog House

GOD this fic has been the death of me!!!! i started writing it OVER a month ago after getting the idea at disneyland.... 

ive honestly put so much time into it that i cant read it anymore and it probably sucks since i cant tell if its good quality anymore...

but i hope its okay! i really am proud of it 

beside, i LOVE john wick so... it cant be too bad haha... *broken heart emoji*

i posted it on AO3 here if you want to read it with better formatting

Enjoy!!!!

Warning: contains light violence

John Wick/Reader - 5105 words. 

_________________________

i.

It is a beautiful day. The sun is bright, the sky is blue, and as the waves crash against each other in front of you, it seems as though the world is stuck in time with your breathing.

It is warm, and things are good, as you think about what you should name the tiny gray sand crabs that rest in the small green bucket by your feet. You watch someone in the distance lift their hands and wave at you, smiling from afar, the sunshine a blanket that blocks their eyes from meeting yours, and you push yourself to remember what color they are.

Though it is warm, and you are resting, suddenly, the world spins and you are no longer at the beach but on a cold floor, and the sky is not blue but deep red. Although they were just waving, you can hear the shots, taste the blood and then see as the light goes out behind the eyes of the only person whom you so desperately love.

The image of raised arms blur as they reach out to you in one final stretch, and though you can’t remember their last words, and you’re sure that you don’t want to, you know that they have asked you to take care of the only thing they have left besides you.

A dog.

A dog who is loved and warm and probably asleep, safe at home in wait of a person who is not you and never will be, as you are busy holding a dead body and screaming as you watch a man dressed in black walk away and never come back...

And you are... Oh, God.  

You are...

You...

You are at the dog park, and the sun is bright, and the sky is blue.

You open your eyes suddenly, hands clenched into fists, with your heart hammering wildly against the bones in your chest. Your pupils dilate and then burn, the sun seeming so bright against the backdrop of the green grass and dogs in your vision who bound about through the open park as though there is not a care to be had in the world.

Maybe there’s not, and God, you wish there wasn’t, but you’re not a dog and you don’t like the park. You have long since learned better than to live in some pretend world where you can spend weekends at the beach with all the people you love, because at this moment in time, they are all dead.

Except your dog, that is, and he’s not even really your dog. But you love him, so you save the complaining for in your head and just tell people that he was a gift rather than an inheritance after his original owner died.

You try not to focus on the past often, but it’s hard, especially now that you’re alone. It’s not like you crave love or anything like that, really, because you understand that all things come and go. It’s just that your idea of the future has always seemed to rest on the balance between finding peace and hope, and you have been ashamed to say that as of late, you are not someone who can be considered either peaceful or hopeful.

Not since you watched love die by the hands of a Heckler & Koch P30L.

Baba Yaga, you remember. The title always used to seem so silly.  

Whatever, you think, hands still clenched, eyes still aching, Those days are over now, and I’m at the park.

Even if you can remember every single shot and the moans that came from the dying body you held in your arms after a raid that you were barely lucky enough to escape from alive. You almost wish that you-

“Hello?”

Someone says and you jolt, the deep voice piercing the bubble of concentration you were lost in. You raise a hand to your heart in shock, as you gaze wide-eyed at a man who stands in front of you looking hesitant and apologetic for something that’s completely unbeknownst to you.

You didn’t even notice when he started standing next to you, his tall frame shading you from the sun as you try to look around him, confused.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to stop and say I’m sorry,” he voices immediately, sounding weirdly concerned about something you gather you’re supposed to know about but don’t.

So you freeze, almost completely sure that you look like an idiot as you stare at this stranger with your lips turned down in what’s probably an awkward frown.

“What are you talking about, sir?”

“I...” He blinks at you, eyebrows knitted together in confusion, before his face softens and his dark eyes look down to avoid your worried gaze, “Sorry. Forget about it.”

You blink, still surprised that someone is initiating contact with you at all, before you nod at him slowly.

“Okay,” You hesitate, unsure of what to call him, and what he could’ve meant by his words. He doesn’t seem like anyone you could’ve met before, but you still can’t shake the odd feeling that you have when his eyes bore into yours, “You are...?”

“John.” He replies slowly, almost in a sad way, and you smile back at him absentmindedly, trying to forget the embarrassing miscommunication that just occured as he reaches out to shake your hand.

Again, there is that familiarity to him, an uncanny edge to his presence that makes you feel like deep down, you’re supposed to recognize who he is.

However, you don’t bother wasting any more time with fitting the key into the lock of figuring out who he is, because you find everyone to be slightly familiar now, most faces blurring once you decide whether or not it’s worth it to keep looking at them.

Deep inside, you know it will never be the same.

Nobody is the same.

Besides, by now your concentration has slipped again, as you are distracted by a dog in front of you who is wagging its tail, its little gray face smiling at you as though you are some kind of angel in heaven.  

Which you’re not, but the dog wouldn’t know that.

“Is he yours?” you ask, shielding your eyes from the sun as you reach out to pat his head, once, twice, and then over his ears. The dog’s eyes squint in a deeper smile, so focused and intense that you almost don’t notice the way that John is glancing at you.

“Yes,” he says, relieving some of the tension between your awkward silence, “Do you have one?”

You turn to him, gazing at his profile, before you point, eyes glazing over the crowd as though you can’t remember who you’re looking for.

“I’m watching him for a friend,” you say, distracted by the happy wag of your dog’s tail in distant sunshine as you glance back at John as he nods.

You think of the beach, the sand crabs, and then of the guns that robbed you of that day and all others that could've been like it, and how much a dog enjoys playing in water.

You go silent again.

“...Name?” Johns voice startles you once more, just like when he first spoke, still deep and powerful, and you have to stop yourself from flying off your chair for a second time.

“What?” you turn your head toward him, blinking like a stupid, sitting duck. You never used to get distracted by boys.

“I said, do they have a name?” he smiles, hesitantly, almost kindly, even though you can tell that he knows that there is something deeply wrong with you that you are never going to explain. Not to someone normal.

Not to him.

“Oh,” you laugh, feeling breathless and slightly embarrassed, trying to play off the fact that you’ve already lost yourself again in that far-off world where you’re still on the beach, and still with the people you love. Even if it feels like a different earth entirely now that it’s gone, the sunshine at the park keeps reminding you of that day.

You thought you knew better than to play pretend, and you’re unsure of what to say, realizing very quickly that you don’t have a name for the animal, at least, not a new one, and you blink, nose scrunching, before trying to reply in a way that won’t make you cry, “I actually, uh… don’t.”

It’s not funny, but you laugh nonetheless, and as he raises an eyebrow at you in confusion, you do your best to smile, at least so he doesn’t question why.  

“That’s strange,” he says, in the midst of your childlike giggle, sounding more confused than upset, “My dog doesn’t have one either.”

Though you fall into silence again, being stunned by his response, it’s only after you take another five, okay, maybe ten peeks at him at your side, do you find that you are no longer thinking of the beach, or of the blood that is stained on your hands, but on the fact that John seems to be glancing at you, too, and you don’t have to guess why.  

He seems nice...

Kind of.

ii. 

You dream of a man dressed in black, but you never see his face.

You are sad, and wake up with wet cheeks, but when you finally open your eyes, it seems as though the clouds did all the crying for you as it rains sheets outside your window.

You are going to die.

You are going to die, and the last thing you can think about is the man in your dreams, the dark suit he was wearing, and the gun in his hands, a Heckler & Koch.

You can’t say that you know what love is anymore, though part of you wants to say that one day, you could.

However, you’re still not really that hopeful for the future, and it’s been too long since your last… romantic adventure... that you don’t really think that dreaming of some kind of evil monster in a nice outfit really constitutes as being romantic, and hits the bullseye more for being creepy, instead, especially since you  are  about to die.

Besides, you’ve been thinking about John-From-the-Dog-Park (as you’ve taken to calling him) a lot more than you should’ve been lately, and it’s probably weird to be grouping the two of them together whenever you think about what it would be like to start dating again.

Deep down, you know that being in love would be too hard, as you’re busy taking care of a dog you did not want and still wake up screaming every night because of the way your last relationship ended. But there’s another factor that hangs heavy over your head, and it’s because you have since restarted the process of accepting dangerous jobs you know you’d might not complete again, all for some dumb gold coins.

And this is the part that’s not a dream, even though it all feels so similar.

Though you can’t say that you were expecting this outcome to be your end, it doesn’t really surprise you that you’re going to die distracted and lost on the floor of some restaurant bathroom you have never been to before.

You hadn’t wanted to start working again. In fact, even the thought of seeing that damn leaderboard one more time made you shake, but you couldn’t stop yourself from charging up your old phone and digging up your gun from under a pile of years old blankets after at some point deciding that there was no other way to move on from your past except than to die because of it.

And now, there’s nothing you can do to change your decision except to wait for the end and hope that your neighbors take care of your dog when they realize you didn’t make it back home.

They always said that life is fragile. That you had things to live for, goals to set. And in a way, they were right. You have a dog, and a long road to recovery, but if you were to make it, even if not very far, you had at least one more conversation with John-From-the-Dog-Park to make.

But you cannot ignore the gun in your hand, and the way your sweaty fingers burn with fever as you hold it against your chest. It’s almost as if the entire space around you is some kind of fever dream as you barely slid into the bathroom fast enough to hear the final shots being unloaded into your former coworker’s head just outside its door.

You are going to die, and it’s because John Wick is here, and everyone else who was hired with you to take him down is dead.

You swore to yourself that you’d stop taking jobs. You’d promised. But it’s hard to keep a promise when there’s no one to keep it for, and when you thought you’d gotten good enough at running away and then being presumed dead that you could always make it out of these situations alive. Not that Winston didn’t give you a monstrous earful when he heard your voice for the first time in years after you called to ask who is standing chairman, but… he believed you were dead, at least.

You had wanted to apologize for running away, but in the end, he was right. If John Wick can’t escape, then neither can you.

And that’s why you’re going to die: because John Wick is here, and you can hear his footsteps approaching the locked bathroom door from which you are hiding behind, and the only thing you can think to do is long for things that are just quite out of reach.

Peace, for one. Love, another.

In their absence, you forgot what it felt like to be scared. To be sad. To realize the fact that your dog would be alone once more in a world where you never get to see the beach again.

But beaches don’t usually have guns, and the one in your hands reminds you that it’s waiting to be used just as the bathroom door creaks open despite the prayer you made when hoping that it wouldn’t.

Even though you know that you should probably be praying, you can’t help but think of the man in your dreams instead; the ghost, his gun, and then the color of someone’s eyes. You can barely remember who they belong to before you’re finally able to squeeze the gun in front of your face as though closing your eyes might be a shield that saves you from dying.

From John Wick.

You think about John-From-the-Dog-Park, and it’s only when the footsteps stop and the room rings in silence as you look up and see him that your brave facade falters and you realize the truth.

“John!” You half sigh, half scream when you finally manage to pry open your eyes all the way to take in the sight of the familiar man dressed in black peering down at you as if he were some kind of half-wit assassin.

You can’t tell if he’s shocked to see you, as by the time he is opening his mouth to respond you have already climbed from your slippery spot underneath the sink and left your gun behind to dive straight into his arms and heave.

Bloodstained and sweaty, as your fingers wrap around his waist and you sob into his chest, it’s only when he rests his hands on your shoulders that you realize how you distraught you were at dying. Part of you wonders if maybe the reason you’re crying is because you’re relieved that now, you don’t have to.

“What are you doing here?” John asks, distressed, sounding like an angrier version of the person who always startles you at the park.

It would be scary, except that you do not care if he’s upset and ignore the question. Ignore the fact that John, your John (at least, the one from the dog park) is  the  John Wick and was this close to killing you.

You knew he looked familiar.

“I said-”

You shush him, finally allowing yourself to release him from your grasp, using your dirty hands to smear grime across your face as you try to clear your eyes and nose of snot, tears, and blood so that you can look him in the eyes. You don’t know where he put his gun.

“I thought you were just some random guy with a dog,” you laugh, the same way you do when you’re trying not to seem bothered, which is uncharacteristic for someone who was about an inch away from dying.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” he responds, unmoving.

When you try to continue to smile, it falters instantly when John’s face doesn’t change to mirror yours and his lips do not crook upwards even the slightest bit. If you were happy to see him, he looks almost enraged at seeing you, and you can only whisper in return.  

“I’ve been meaning to quit,” you shrink backwards, your hands now at your sides, as you realize you hadn’t managed to think far enough ahead to wonder what you would do if you didn’t die.

Which you didn’t.

“I think… I should go home now,” you decide out loud, feeling as though the way he is staring at you in silence implies that there is still a chance he might kill you, but you continue to look in his eyes nonetheless, “But it was really nice to see you.”

You begin to hobble away, resting a hand on the cool wall next you while you stupidly turn your back on a man who you are well aware is not kind. A man who has lost more than most people could imagine. But you don’t worry, you don’t even have the energy to, and decide that if he kills you, it would probably be a good thing.

Besides, you’ve only really spoken a few times, and you know that you have both lost the same thing.

He’s just the one who did all the killing.

You stop walking.

“John?” You ask suddenly, not looking back, the empty air responding in the only way you need, “When you apologized to me, did you mean it?”

You can envision face, the way his lips are always in half a frown. You can see his hair, it being just that little bit too long. And you can remember his eyes, and how they look at you as though you are someone he thinks will never be normal, because they always look the same as when you were holding that damn dead body.

You didn’t even recognize him. It was a miscommunication. You were someone else.

But you know now. The dark suit, the Heckler & Koch, and the way he didn’t kill you.  Again.

You look at him, and you realize the reason why he was saying sorry was because he had killed somebody who you had loved, and that he had known the entire time.

The realization makes the world spin, and what little light is shining in the bathroom begins to make you feel sick. Your eyes blur as you begin to cry again, your hands now too limp to wipe your face of the tears and your body too tired to keep you standing upright while you process the new information.

“John,” you gasp, just as you begin to collapse, reaching out for him in the hopes that you don’t end up on the ground.

While you do realize that there’s a lot you should probably start being angry at him for, such as how he robbed you of the one thing you’ve been holding onto for years, the only thought you can seem to process is how warm his body is when he does manage to take your hands in his and pull you to his chest before it’s too late.

Nestled in arms, it doesn’t take much of an effort to close your eyes and pretend that he is someone else, and that this whole night never happened.

John’s voice is low, his lips close to your ear when he finally speaks, killing your fantasy almost instantly, “You didn’t recognize me, did you?”

You continue to weep, shaking your head no while you cling to his body. There are words you wish you could say to him; angry, nasty words. Yet, for some reason, nothing comes out when he finally takes your face in his hands to look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says, before you can manage to speak, one hand back to holding yours, the other pressed into your hair. You’d feel guilty about this, as though you were the one pressuring him into responding this way, holding you like this, but you can’t bring yourself to move, and are so angry that you hope it hurts him to touch you like this, too.

You remember the beach, and how easily the sky can change from blue to red, and you suddenly think of the man in your dreams, the one in the suit, and decide that he sort of looked like John. At first, it makes you feel worse, and part of you boils with rage while you try to come to terms with the understanding of what he’s done to you. But there’s another part of you, one that you’re not sure whether to be grateful for, that also reminds you of how in love you could’ve been with the man you met at the park; the one with the happy, gray dog, if you had just decided to move on.

But it's not that simple, and these versions of people in your head just ended up being the same person.

Your body aches, but you shudder in relief when you finally release John’s neck, trying to avoid looking into his eyes one more time by using your dirty fingers to smear grime across your face. While you can’t say that you’ve forgiven John-From-the-Dog-Park for being John Wick, you still try to focus on the positives: that you are not dead, and you can finally go home to feed your dog in peace.

You should know better, as John breaks the silence first. John Wick, that is.

“Do you need a ride home?” he asks, reaching out for your hand. Though you want to say no, you can’t help but nod, still unable to look him in the eyes in fear of blushing at the man who killed the last person you loved.

iii.

Once again, it is a beautiful day. The sun is bright, and the sky is a beautiful blue. This time though, you are not at the beach, but at the dog park, and your dog is racing against the wind next to another dog you have seen before but do not know the name of.

You try to call out, voice swallowed by something you can’t place, but you don’t really mind, because it’s warm out and you feel sleepy. You watch as your dog runs towards another, a friendly looking gray one, and realize that John must be close by.

So you smile, feeling contented with this dream version of your favorite killer and his dog in a world where he is not a killer and you can be together...

But something doesn’t feel right, and you...

You...

You open your eyes to the sudden sound of knocking, before you realize it is too late to answer and the door to your house swings open in haste.

It is John, except this time he is not dressed in black and he is not covered in blood, and he looks so funny in contrast to the person you always think about, even if you’ve seen him in his pair of sweats before.

“Hi, John,” you smile, eyes closing again, chest stuttering slowly as you suck a breath through your teeth.

“Are you…” he pauses, seeming unsure about the sight that’s in front of him, “Have you been shot?”

“Yea,” You say, squeezing your eyes shut with your fingers pressed against your side. You know that you’re bleeding all over your ugly old couch, but for some reason you can’t bring yourself to mend the wound and save the cushions, as by this point, it’s probably too late to try.

“How?”

“You know…” you wave your hand around, blood trailing down your fingers, and you know that John is most likely thinking of the night when he decided not to shoot you and then of the next time he decided not to shoot you and instead sobbed in his arms, “Work.”

“I thought you wanted to quit?” he asks, though it comes out more as an accusatory statement than anything else. You wish you had a better response, a better excuse, but the only thing you can do is grunt, eyes closed, while you focus on trying not to bleed out.

You can remember the leaderboard and the assigned mission, firing your gun, and then escaping, but your memory stops at the part where you managed to get caught and then torn open by someone else with a firing weapon.

It’s probably not important now, because John is still hurrying to your side, seeming concerned if not just polite, and then lets you reach out a hand for him in a way that seems a little bit familiar.

“Hey, John?” you ask, not waiting for a response before you continue, “Do you ever think about how things could be different?”

He stays quiet, as you have noticed by now that he doesn’t usually respond to your comments, but when you open your eyes to peek at his face, he looks pensive rather than like someone trying to ignore you. He catches you staring, and his face twists in a way you cannot read.

“Yes,” he says, at this point now kneeling by your side.

You nod, your fingers wiping your sweaty face, and he reaches out with a cloth to wipe for you, as you’re sure there’s more blood than tears in your eyes now by the way his handkerchief stains red.

You remember the beach, and how the slaughter that robbed everything from you also gave you a dog, which in turn gave you the dog park where you first met John.

Life is a cycle, you think, and this is the part that’s always shown as an arrow instead of a picture.

Dying.

If this were a different life, and you were not an arrow, maybe John would look at you differently. Maybe you’d both have different jobs and he wouldn’t have to watch you bleed out on your couch as you slowly forget how you even got home.

Maybe he wouldn't have taken up two spots in your mind.

But this is your life, and you are dying, and the last thing you can think about is him.

“I’m going to call a doctor now,” he says, standing up, but you reach for him, grabbing his wrist with your bloody hand, smearing red across his arm.

He blinks at you, puzzled, confused, and you’re sure that he’s wondering why you haven’t passed out yet.

“Wait,” you whisper, blinking up at his face as he hesitates, “Tell me again what they call you?”

John looks confused, but humors you anyway, even though it's not funny, “The Boogeyman?”

“No,” you whine, though it ends up sounding more like a groan, “The silly name.”

“Baba Yaga?”

You attempt to laugh, but heave instead when the gasp you let out causes your wound to burn and forces you to let go of John. As you press your hands against your side, he pulls himself away quickly and sighs when you still manage to pout at him.

Though you recognize his behavior as kind, you still can’t help but think of what you did to deserve this; bleeding out and then being forgotten all over again.

You can remember the first night he walked away, the night when you were screaming so loud you were sure the whole of New York City could hear you. The same night you watched love die, and you don't even know if John was married at the time.

In your stupor, you wonder what his wife must’ve been like, and if you are anything like her.

“You’ll be fine,” John whispers, but his voice still cuts your thoughts in half as you notice that he is staring at you, distracted by something of his own creation as his large hands move to pull an ugly pink blanket from underneath your feet to lay across your wounded body.

You’re not sure if he’s right, but you nod anyway, despite the fact that by now, you can hear his footsteps heading towards the door, feel the fading of his warmth, and when you do manage to open your eyes in one final burst of anxiety, see as he has already turned his back toward you to open your front door to leave. This time, when you reach out for him, you are reminded of the first time you lost someone who you loved.

“John,” you croak, and he stops to listen even though one of his feet is already out of the door, “We should go to the beach sometime.”

He nods, and you watch his lips to see if they twitch upward, even though in some ways, he looks as sad as when you first met him on that day when he tried to apologize.

“Thanks,” you whisper, watching as he finally leaves, hoping that if he saw your smile, you had managed to swallow all the blood in your mouth.

He hadn’t smiled back.

iv. 

You are at the beach again, except that this time, you know that you are dreaming.

Still, the sun is bright and the sky is blue, and the water looks extra beautiful with a happy gray dog that splashes in its waves next to one that looks like your own.

You do not have a bucket of sand crabs at your feet, or someone close to you in the water, but you know that there is a man dressed in black somewhere nearby and that if you were to look for him, that he would wave back at you.

Even at the distant sound of sirens that go off, which seem louder with every passing second, you smile, opening your eyes to look for him, hoping that this time, he doesn’t have a gun.

[the-skittle-under-your-bed]

Some cute shit ig.

“Hey, babe.” my wife settled beside me as I spoke to the computer.

“Jade, I’m in a class.” I turned back to the Zoom course I was teaching. “Sorry, guys. Anyway, do we all understand? Give me an emoji in the chat to show how we’re feeling.”

A stream of thumbs up emojis and one yellow thumbs down appeared in the sidebar. After explaining the topic once more and receiving a thumbs up in return, I wrapped up the class.

“Awesome. See you guys next week! Have a wonderful Halloween!” A steady influx of “goodbye, Ms. Richter”’s popped up, before I closed my laptop, leaned back, and sighed in relief. I loved my students, as if they were my own kids, but sometimes teaching them could be...a hassle, to say the least.

“Tough day?” Jade gave me a sympathetic look as she moved behind me, massaging my neck gently.

“Little bit. Nothing I can’t handle.” I replied.

“I know what’ll fix it.” the raven haired girl gave me a sly smile.

“Oh? What would that be?” I raised an eyebrow and leaned closer.

“Halloween!” Jade pulled two costumes out from behind her. Blinking in surprise, I examined the outfits she had picked out. One was a classic witch costume, with an old black robe that hung over a grey shirt and sweatpants, accessorized with a pointy hat. The other was much more elaborate, a short dress that seemed to have been made from two different pieces of clothing, as the right hand side was silky and ghostly white, while the left side was a bright, vivid green adorned with purple ribbon and sequins.

“What-” I started to ask, before thinking and shaking my head. I loved Jade to pieces, but I’d learned long ago not to question what she was doing or what she wanted others to do. It would never make sense, and only succeed in giving the listener a headache. Better to just go along with it, it always turned out good in the end.

“Well, go on. This is your costume,” she handed the witch outfit to me, “and this is mine.” she held up the dress.

…

A half hour later, having donned my costume and applied some green makeup, I waited in the hallway of our apartment for Jade to burst through the bathroom door with whatever insane getup she had chosen this time. Last Halloween she’d been a spider crab, and an incredibly realistic one at that. The night ended with two kids pissing their pants and us getting kicked out of her 4 year old niece's Halloween party. The niece loved her getup, but Jade’s sister in law sure didn’t. Something about “corrupting the youth” with our “sadistic urges”.

Jade’s brother got divorced a short while later.

The door opened, breaking me from my thoughts, and out stepped my beautiful wife- in a costume that any other day would get her locked up in an insane asylum.

She wore the dress, which had now been accessorized with half of a plastic silver tiara on the right side of her head, and a Harley Quinn-style pigtail on the other. The tiara side had been painted stark white, lips a pale blue, and contacts had been added to make her right eye completely white, no pupil at all. On her left side face, cherry red lipstick and blue eye shadow that went perfectly with her complexion.

I stood there speechless for another second before recovering my wits. “Jade, baby, I love you with all my heart, and I mean this in the most loving way possible, but what the fuck?”

Jade giggled. “I’m part ghost!” she threw out her arms and twirled around like an excited little girl.

Part ghost...now that’s one I haven’t heard before. “What do you mean you’re only part ghost? Was one of your parents a ghost and one human? How did they-”

“No, no, no, silly. Not like that!” Jade rolled her eyes, as if I were the crazy one. “You see...something scared me half to death!”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. Jade always did have a penchant for corny jokes.

My wife’s demeanor suddenly became slightly nervous. “You don’t...hate it, do you? I can change if it’s too embarrassing, I just thought it would be interesting-”

My eyes widened. “No, baby, I think it’s amazing. You look awesome.”

“Thanks.” Jade brightened, though she was noticeably calmer. “C’mon, let’s go before all the good candy’s gone!”

The night ended with two ladies slamming the door in our faces, 5 king sized Crunch bars, and cuddling on the couch with Silence of the Lambs playing in the background.

All in all, it was the best day I could ever ask for.

“What do you mean you’re only PART ghost? Was one of your parents human and the other-” “No, that’s not what happened. You see, something scared me HALF to death.” “You’ve GOT to be kidding me.”

[joonbird]

Snow Angel 🎄

pairing: namjoon x reader (ft. ot7)

genre: fluff

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: merry christmas! ♡

“We’re cornered. There’s no way out.” 

Your head snaps up, your mouth falling open in surprise. Your boyfriend is staring at you, his lips pressed in a solemn line.

“Namjoon, there must be something-”

“There isn’t time.” 

Namjoon shakes his head slowly. He exhales, straightening his shoulders. “We knew it would come to this.”

“Namjoon, no.” You protest emphatically, the words that are pulled out of your lips evaporate into a puff of frost. It is an uncharacteristically cold day for December. A thick duvet of crisp white snow hugs the earth, as snowflakes fall in drowsy succession around you. 

Namjoon reaches down and gives your hand a squeeze. You glance down at your clasped palms. He is wearing his new mittens, they are black, with crimson red crabs lopsidedly stitched into the wool.

(You had given them to him last night. Namjoon had immediately whipped off his WTAPS gloves and thrown them onto the floor in a melodramatic display of Christmas Gift Appreciation. He had then jumped up and down in excitement, small bounces that his lean body weren’t fully in control of. The domino effect went as follows: Namjoon knocked his shin on your bedside table, the lamp fell off, and it broke. Needless to say, melodramatics were not Kim Namjoon’s forte.)

“I’ll go. It’s the only way. I’ll distract him.” Namjoon declares suddenly, it is a sweeping statement, and you gasp.

“No! Namjoon, wait - !” 

But it is too late. Namjoon drops your hand and turns his head to give you one last gaze. “Get out of here while you still can, Y/N. I love you.” 

And then he runs around the corner out into the open.

Slackjawed, you hear it: the sound of Namjoon yelling, and an all too distinctive evil giggle.

Your instincts kick in, and you spring up from where you are crouched, racing out to the open, to where Namjoon is.

Jeon Jungkook is standing there, a fuzzy bucket hat on his head, a sling draped around his neck. The sling is stuffed to the brim with snowballs, and you watch with widened eyes as Jungkook reaches in and grabs a snowball. 

He hurls it at your boyfriend with a speed and ferocity that is both awe inspiring and terrifying. His arms are a blur, and you watch as Namjoon yelps out in protest, his body being pelted with snowball after snowball. Jungkook is laughing the entire time and showing no signs of slowing down.

“Got you!” Jungkook crows. He is distracted, and you look down. 

Your fingers are curled around a snowball. A perfectly shaped snowball. It is the one you had been working on right before Namjoon had sacrificed himself. 

You aim at Jungkook and throw with all your might.

The snowball arcs cleanly through the air, and it feels as if time stands still. You watch, your breath catching in your throat. Jungkook turns, spotting you, and he flings a snowball in your direction. 

You watch, your muscles tight with tension as your snowball continues to fly in the air… before it plops to the ground, no more than two metres away from you.

(Okay, in hindsight that may have been an overly optimistic shot to take.)

You hear Namjoon laugh, just as Jungkook’s snowball splatters over your chest. 

“Two in one!” Jungkook screams, and you turn your focus on him, your eyes narrowing into a glare.

“You take snowball fights way too seriously Jeon Jungkook.” 

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

You point at the sling wrapped around his neck, recognizing the scrawled doodles on the white fabric. Love hearts with legs, a Taehyung signature.

“… Is that Tae’s sling?”

Jungkook lifts his nose in the air and folds his arms defiantly.

“I can’t reveal intel to the enemy.”

You narrow your eyes. “Like I said. You take the snowball fight way too seriously.”

(In fact, the snowball fight was the reason why Taehyung even had a sling in the first place. He and Jungkook had been testing out a snowball fight strategy wherein Taehyung would climb a tree and attack with snowballs from the branches. It had been a self labelled ‘flawless plan for victory’... until Taehyung had fallen out of aforementioned tree during a test run and sprained his wrist.)

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but a piercing scream pierces through the air. The scream is unmistakably Hoseok’s, and Jungkook’s ears practically prick up and he turns, sprinting away, snowball sling bobbing up and down.

You let out a huff of defeat and flop down onto the snow. Your hair fans out underneath you as you stare up at the sky. Despite the icy chill lingering in the air, the sun beats down on your face, the sky blue and streaked with clouds.

You hear footsteps crunching in the snow and your eyes flutter closed.

For the majority of your adult life, you hadn’t been one to make a huge deal out of Christmas. In the past, Christmas had always been a non-event - something to vaguely anticipate, but never something to actively celebrate. That was until you had met Kim Namjoon five years ago. 

You had fallen into Namjoon, into a clumsy and quick kind of love that felt like every cliche bundled up into one - butterflies, songs on the radio reminding you of him, you lying awake with your phone pressed to your chest and a giddy smile painted on your cheeks. 

Dating Namjoon meant holidays under blankets, agonizing over getting your boyfriend the perfect present, kisses absently pressed on the top of your head in between cups of chamomile tea. 

Dating Namjoon also meant being adopted into his circle of friends, and Namjoon had casually warned you five Christmases ago that they were ‘kind of Christmas enthusiasts.’

You had soon learned that ’Kind of’ meant ‘Extreme’. Each of your friends has a Christmas Thing. Hoseok texts you inaccurate Christmas carol lyrics at varying intervals throughout the day, (this morning you had gotten ‘get your boo a partridge in a pear tree. keep that love 100’ and a series of love heart emojis) Seokjin buys everyone matching Christmas sweaters, (the goal being that the more obscure the sweater the better. This year he scrounged up ‘Santa and his Reindeer as outdated vines’ jumpers) Jimin and Yoongi hold a festive movie marathon (during which Yoongi always complains about how the Santa Clause movie has too many loopholes, and Jimin recites half of Home Alone by heart). And last but not least, Jungkook and Taehyung have their annual snowball fight (which you really do need to put a stop to because the sight of Jungkook the Cackling Snowball Machine is one you never want to see again.)

You open your eyes to see Namjoon smiling down at you.

“We lost,” He says simply. “Again.” 

You huff out in frustration and fold your arms.

“Yeah, but that’s because our friends are so-” You begin.

“Intense.” Namjoon finishes.

“And way too competitive.” 

“And weirdly accurate at throwing snowballs. Jungkook hit my er, personal ornaments three times and I swear it was on purpose.”

A giggle escapes your lips and Namjoon joins in, his mitten clapping over his mouth as if to catch his laugh.

“They’re alright,” You begrudgingly admit, trying to keep up your grumpy facade, but you are smiling. Namjoon reads in between your lines as he always does. I love them, even with all their weird Christmas traditions.

“They’re alright.” He agrees, and this time you read in between his lines. I love them, they’re family.

Namjoon’s eyes soften as he gazes at you, his face is all dimples and creased eyes and the tiniest hint of a smile fighting on his lips- an utterly Namjoon facial expression that is only brought about as a result of you. 

He reaches out and affectionately cups your face with a mittened hand. The wool is cold and scratchy on your skin, but you keen into his palm as he leans closer to you.

His beanie is askew on his head, snowflakes dusting the shoulders on his obnoxious Christmas sweater. He brings his other hand to your cheek and his face eases into a smile- one that fills your belly with a golden kind of warmth, one of those signature Namjoon smiles that makes you feel shy and captivated and fuzzy and prickly, all at once. 

“My snow angel.” He murmurs, his deep voice is clear and confident, and you blush, even through the frost clinging to your cheeks.

“You’re so lame.” You roll your eyes at him. Namjoon’s smile widens, your hands wind around the back of his neck as you pull him in closer to you.

His lips brush over yours, a light touch that is silvery and like a whisper, before he leans in closer and deepens the kiss. 

His lips taste like cinnamon, his lips soft and full and you can’t help but swoon into him, at the sensation of his tongue dancing against yours, his hands cupping your face and the sound of him sighing into your mouth. 

He pulls away, pressing a kiss onto your cheek and onto your forehead, and you feel delightfully tipsy with each stamp of his lips to your skin.

“We’ll win next year.” Namjoon says decisively. You scrunch your nose.

(Not a chance: Namjoon has a strange tendency of making cube shaped snowballs that fall apart mid air. You also cannot throw a snowball to save your life, see earlier attempt at taking out Snowball Fight competitor Jeon Jungkook for evidence.)

“Definitely. If not next year, then in five. We can train in secret or something and catch Jungkook and Tae offguard.” You say lightly.

“I don’t even know if five years of training is enough. Jungkook had so many snowballs before. I don’t even know when he had time to make that many...” Namjoon has a perplexed look on his face.

“Fifty years then.” You propose. Namjoon beams at that and nods in agreement.

“Merry Christmas my love.” He kisses the tip of your nose.

“Merry Christmas Namjoon.”

[rootmacklin]

fic meme- self rec

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Tagged by good ol @missparker

1. Of All the Things My Hands Have Held, the Best By Far Is You (Star Trek DS9)

In the morning, Kay sips her coffee at her desk, and the sounds of Herb and Douglas bickering are white noise until Herb slams his own empty mug down on the table, startling her. She looks up, and though it's been months it still feels like Benny should come walking through the door, asking for her report on their feud.

Across the room, Darlene isn't even pretending to work. Her chin rests in her hand as she watches the spectacle unfold before them. Herb is threatening to go to Galaxy for the second time this month and the seventeenth this year. Darlene keeps a tally in her desk drawer- threats to leave, items thrown, doughnut-related fits- and they all have a bet going to see who can predict the year-end totals.

Soon, Douglas will look in Darlene's direction and bark at her to get back to work, but for now, her attention is rapt. "You know I love a show," she always says, and as Kay watches her now she can't help but be charmed by the poorly-concealed delight on Darlene's face.

"What are we up to, now? Fifteen?" Jules asks, appearing beside her.

The smile slides off her face. Before she can answer, Douglas catches Darlene staring. "Miss Kursky!" he growls. "I don't pay you to sit around looking pretty!"

"Isn't that exactly what he pays her for?" Jules asks.

Kay looks up and glares at him. "You know, she's a lot smarter than you all give her credit for."

He pulls a chair over and sits down beside her, and she tries to remember that he is her friend and she never used to mind so much when he'd insert himself into her personal space. "I never said she wasn't smart," he says.

"But she's a secretary, and you're a brilliant writer, and you think that makes you better than her."

"I never said that, either," Jules says. "I know she's your best friend, Kay, but you needn't protect her from me. I think very highly of her."

Kay rolls her eyes and picks up her mug, swallowing down the rest of her coffee before it starts to get cold. Herb throws a pencil across the room. "I know," she tells Jules, but won't look at him.

2. All the Green in the Galaxy (Star Wars TFA)

At the base, it seems like word has gotten around- no one seems very surprised to see a small girl trailing behind the General.  They have plenty to say to each other about it, if the conversations that stop abruptly when she walks into a room are any indication.  She supposes it would be interesting enough, to an outsider.  Another surprise Skywalker, as if they just can't help appearing out of nowhere, once or twice a generation. She has never taken the name.  Luke is her brother, as surely as planets spin around their suns, but her parents were Bail and Breha Organa, her home was Alderaan, and she will honor them with the name they gave her.  She realizes- she hasn't asked Rey her mother's name.  She doubts Rey has been going by the name Skywalker, and the information turned up by the Resistance in their search for Luke had been sparse: a daughter, Rey, age five, alone. "Aunt Leia?" Rey asks.  "Are you very important?" "Important?" "I mean, are you everyone's boss?  They all talk to you like you're their boss." "I suppose you could say that," Leia answers, skimming over the report of another attempt to locate her brother.  It's pointless, she thinks.  He doesn't want to be found.  That they had even stumbled upon Rey's existence was an impossible blessing. "Unkar Plutt was my boss on Jakku," Rey says.  "Even though I didn't say I wanted to work for him.  He said I had to, if I wanted to eat." Leia closes the report.  "You don't have a boss here," she says, kneeling down to Rey's level.  "Do you understand?  No one here will force you to do anything.  Uncle Han and I will take care of you, no matter what."

3. with a heart so heavy and beating like a drum (Dragon Age Inquisition)

She gets too close to a dragon in the Hinterlands and it slices a claw down her side, and there's a great deal of shouting as she falls heavily to the ground. Dorian is the first to reach her side, and he is not a healer but he knows a few basic things. “If you were just dead,” he says, his hand covered in her blood and a strange warmth spreading from his fingers into her wound, “I could raise you right back up. Simple as that. But you have to go and make it complicated, don't you?”

She means to say she's sorry, but when she opens her mouth it's only a wordless cry that escapes her.

“There, there,” he says. “It's all right. I'd rather a slightly damaged Eilif than an undead herald, any day.” He keeps one hand spread over her wound and the other brushes hair out of her eyes, his thumb sweeping lightly over her forehead. “I know it hurts, I'm sorry. I won't let you die, darling. For one, Josephine would be devastated, which I believe would lead to Leliana having me killed in my sleep, and we can't have that.”

She nods, squeezes her eyes shut and hears the terrifying shriek of the dragon as it dies, and when she opens them Cassandra is standing over her. “Stupid girl,” she says, full of relief and fondness, and it's such a great comfort that Eilif finds herself smiling.

Dorian carries her partway back to camp, and when he starts complaining, Cassandra takes her from him, once it's determined that she absolutely can't hold herself upright or even dream about getting on a horse. Cassandra holds her as if she weighs nothing, and when she makes a small noise of discomfort, Cassandra stops momentarily. “We are almost there,” she says. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes,” Eilif says. “I'm sorry. I'm fine.”

4. look for my love where the sun shines (Frozen)

“Would you really have stayed in that castle alone on the mountain forever?” Anna asks. “What would you have done all day?”

“I hadn't decided yet,” Elsa tells her, and remembers the rush of freedom that chased everything else away.

Anna asks, “What would you have eaten?”

“Snow crab,” Elsa says, and Anna laughs and laughs.

Elsa touches Anna all the time, now that she can. A bare, un-gloved hand on her arm, kisses on her cheeks.

The gates are always open and Anna is so, so happy.

They never say “goodnight” without also saying “I love you.” They never travel anywhere by boat.

5. One Red Thread (Once Upon A Time)

Emma's first memory is of being replaced.

She can't remember anything else about that family, the Swans, who had given her a home and a name and must have been kind to her for those three years, must have, because she remembers how hard she had cried when it was taken away. They were going to have a baby, they said. A new baby, their own, and it meant Emma had to go and stay with a new family. She had cried so hard it made her cough and gag, and she had been held and soothed but still sent away.

“Be a good girl, Emma,” they told her. “We know you'll be good.”

She was good sometimes and bad at other times and it never seemed to make a difference, she was always sent back. By the time she was five, anything she had known about being loved by a family withered away like an unused language.

I mean TAKE IT WITH A GRAIN OF SALT bc I wrote some stuff for Lost Girl that I’m real fond of that didn’t make this list but shrug emoji.

[ts1989fanatic]

SWIFT-WATCH

Where in the World Is Taylor Swift? An Investigation.

Is she hangin’ with Ed Sheeran in a mythical forest somewhere? Or being transported in a piece of luggage? One thing’s certain: The world’s biggest pop star has been very MIA.

AMY ZIMMERMAN 07.19.17 1:00 AM ET

ts1989fanatic this so called writer is no fan of Taylor Swift, so if you don’t want to almost puke and end up enraged by this TRASH read no further.

Taylor Swift is the teenage tattoo of A-List celebrities: Every so often we remember that she’s still there, and we don’t quite know what to do with her.

The pop star has been more or less MIA since last summer, when Kim Kardashian took to Snapchat to out Swift as a stack of snake emojis hiding inside a patriotic onesie.

Taylor Swift—an incredibly calculating celeb who nonetheless managed to market herself as the naïve girl next door—might be a snake, but she’s our snake. In a galaxy of eye-roll-eliciting Katy Perrys and rage-inducing Rob Kardashians, Swift always stood out as a celebrity who could generate an infinite amount of relatively inoffensive content about herself.

ts1989fanatic there are several snakes mentioned in this post including the writer, but Taylor is not one of them.

From her rotating cast of Ken doll boyfriends to her famous squad, Swift consistently made headlines. Love her or hate her, but show some freaking gratitude for a woman who would go on a double date with her friend who is currently dating her ex-boyfriend just to feed us clickbait-hungry monsters.

ts1989fanatic Calvin Harris is a Ken Doll OK sure this writer is a moron, and the double date was not to feed idiots like you.

When Swift was exposed as a liar and went into hiding, the entertainment blogosphere lost one of its brightest stars. Swift elegantly toed the line between A-list celebrity and overexposure—a line that Kim Kardashian promptly pushed her over. So it’s no surprise that the media-adept star reacted by doing a total-180, transforming from “girl who gets papp’d every day” to “mythical nocturnal creature who may or may not subsist on the burnt offerings of Ed Sheeran.”

ts1989fanatic I’m still waiting for the unedited full conversation and not the 90 seconds of chopped and edited BULLSHIT that KARTRASHIAN put out to prove Taylor as a liar (until then calling Taylor a liar is CRAP)

Keeping a low profile is one thing, but shipping yourself out of your own apartment is quite another.

ts1989fanatic This has already been proven as BULLSHIT and retracted.

Swift-Watch 2017 reached a new nadir earlier this week, when word spread that the star had been carried out of her Tribeca building in a piece of luggage. Stories like “Taylor Swift Was Definitely Not Being Carted Around in a Giant Suitcase” quickly debunked the rumors, but, still, if you have to clarify that Taylor Swift is not cramming herself into a trunk every time she wants to go to SoulCycle, clearly something is up. So how, over the course of one year, did Taylor Swift go from one of the biggest pop stars in the world to a potential human carry-on? What has this woman been up to? And why does Ed Sheeran always seem to make everything worse?

ts1989fanatic Taylor is avoiding IDIOTS like this writer so that she might actually have a normal relationship and a little privacy from being mocked by the media over everything she does.

The Crab Walk

At this point, the story of Taylor Swift’s Snapchat outing is the stuff of celebrity lore (more specifically, North West’s bedtime story). After Swift fell back on her traditional victim narrative, complaining that Kanye Westreleased a vulgar rap about her without her permission, Kim published footage of Kanye running the offensive lyrics past Swift in the studio. Swift’s lies held up about as well as a street-cast model on an hours-long Yeezy runway, and the pop singer was quickly denounced as a calculating fake. But we didn’t understand the full weight of Kim’s public image assault until a few weeks later, when Swift was caught crab-walking out of her gym to avoid the paparazzi. I’m not saying that Kim Kardashian hypes herself up with a few lines of Pixy Stix every night and watches this video of Taylor Swift walking sideways, but I’m not not saying that.

ts1989fanatic Taylor has always tried to find different ways to avoid the paps, do you all remember walking backwards down a hiking trail I do.

‘Jury Duty’

The VMAs are a site of trauma for anyone who hates bad fashion and Canadian tuxedos. But the annual awards show is particularly triggering for Taylor Swift, whose years-long feud with Kanye West began on that very stage. So when the VMAs rolled around so quickly after Swift’s Snapchat fiasco, the star turned away from her walk-in closet full of sequined mini dresses and opted to fulfill her civic duty instead. Yes, Taylor Swift, image-crafter extraordinaire, managed to avoid a high-profile awards show appearance by claiming that she had jury duty the next day. Knowing that that was a “dog ate my homework”-level excuse, Swift obviously had to go the extra mile and actually show up to jury duty. While a Nashville judge eventually dismissed Swift as a potential juror in the case, the singer still managed to befriend a few lucky Tennesseans—including a local resident who got Swift to sign her copy of The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. You truly cannot make this shit up.

ts1989fanatic It was not a claim that she had jury duty IT WAS A FUCKING FACT.

R.I.P. Hiddleswift

There are suspiciously paparazzi-friendly dates, there are fake Hollywood couples, and then there’s this. Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston announced their brand partnership when they swapped spit for the photogs on a bunch of rocks—as one does. It was perfect synergy from the very start: Tom Hiddleston wanted to become James Bond, and Taylor Swift likes white boys. The “human relationship” proceeded in a manner characteristic of typical human relationships. 

They ate dinner together, held hands, and traveled the world. Swift even let Hiddleston pick out an interpersonal relationship party favor from her closet of affirmational tank tops. Unfortunately, Hiddleston didn’t appear to “heart T.S.” enough to stand by her side once her stock started plummeting—either that, or Swift realized that having such an artificial-seeming relationship was making her look even less authentic. For a deliberately manufactured relationship, Hiddleswift was pretty ill-timed. 

Tom Hiddleston was not Taylor Swift’s most famous boyfriend, nor was he the pettiest. He wasn’t Harry Styles or a Kennedy. He was, however, the most willing to plant his ass on a bunch of cold pointy rocks and make out for some pictures. R.I.P., Hiddleswift: gone but, thanks to an army of dedicated paparazzi, never forgotten.

ts1989fanatic yes their relationship was short lived but this does not mean fake, only two people in the world that know the truth the rest is just Speculation.

Halloween!

Taylor Swift was Deadpool for Halloween, I guess.

ts1989fanatic And you point is you PUTZ

Decision 2017

Despite not having the balls to endorse Hillary Clinton, self-described feminist Taylor Swift urged her 102 million social media followers to “Go out and VOTE.” It worked out really well. Thanks a lot, Taylor.

ts1989fanatic Taylor could not win either way if she endorsed Hillary she would have been attacked for that. Taylor Swift is not to BLAME for TRUMP.

Two Directions

Though technically released in December, Swift’s Zayn Malik duet truly made waves when it was featured in Fifty Shades Darker, a movie about having the least kinky BDSM sex imaginable in Seattle. In January, Malik and Swift co-starred in a music video for the track. Someone on Wikipedia has written a better synopsis of this music video than I ever could: “The video starts with Zayn emerging from his car on a rainy night as the paparazzi take photos. As Zayn enters a hotel he starts singing his part and as the chorus begins he reaches the elevator with red lights and then pans over to another elevator with Swift singing her part and proceeds to her hotel room. Zayn in his room sings the chorus and Swift pours some champagne in a glass. The rest of the video is Zayn and Swift throwing objects like glasses, lamps, pillows across their rooms in anger.”

ts1989fanatic Take synopsis shine it up and stick it were the sun don’t shine.

Super Bowl Bonanza

Swift performed her first and quite possibly last concert of the year in February, telling the audience that, “By coming to this show tonight, you are attending 100 percent of this year’s tour dates.”

ts1989fanatic this part I can’t disagree with.

The Ed Sheeran Rendezvous

Who cares?

ts1989fanatic Millions of fans do you stupid fucking idiot.

Mystery Boo

In May, news broke that Taylor Swift was months-deep into a relationship with British actor Joe Alwyn. While anyone who’s familiar with Swift knows that up-and-coming Brits are her personal heroin, the real surprise was that the singer actually pulled off a secret romance. For months, Swift and Alwyn made like Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk and weren’t seen. A wig was reportedly involved. By the time news leaked, Swift was allegedly already looking at houses in the U.K. (although, to be fair, buying real estate in her new boyfriends’ neighborhoods is what Taylor Swift does between following back on Instagram and going on a first date).

ts1989fanatic that crack about buying real estate is garbage that was something she did once and could easily and probably was coincidence. 

The Drop

Taylor Swift will never miss a chance to screw over her enemies, even if she has to orchestrate her vengeance through a WiFi hotspot that she set up inside her giant suitcase. Taylor Swift came here to do many things—make out with the hottest guys, put more fiddles in pop music, name her cat after Olivia Benson—but she did not come here to play. Katy Perry learned this lesson the hard way in June, when Swift quietly released her entire musical catalog on Spotify the same night that Perry dropped her new album. Perry’s abysmal “Witness”—which featured a diss track about TayTay—just couldn’t compete with Swift’s entire oeuvre. It was a rough day for Katy Perry, and a great day for 15-year-olds with Spotify premium.

ts1989fanatic Sorry but KP deserved all she got.

America the Beautiful

While something has obviously been off in Taylor-world this year, nothing cemented this fact quite like Swift’s refusal to throw her annual Fourth of July party. No one event has ever encapsulated the American dream quite like Swift’s mandatory summer squad meet-ups: a mosh pit of blonde beauties with flat stomachs enjoying water sports and baking Pinterest-worthy goodies in red, white, and blue bikinis. 

This year, instead of heading for Swift’s Rhode Island estate, the squad was left to their own devices. Most notably, model Karlie Kloss celebrated the Fourth by posing for an Instagram with Kendall Jenner—Kim Kardashian’s half-sister. Kudos to Kloss for finding the only other celebrity in the world who probably can’t name a Destiny’s Child song(and has been accused of a far more egregious act of cultural appropriation). Kloss’ decision to spend Swift’s favorite holiday with a Kardashian was read as an insult, leading to the possible conclusion that Kloss and Swift are no longer besties. Adding overblown insult to imagined injury, Lorde was later caught insinuating that she and Swift are no longer co-squad members.

And then there was only… Martha Hunt.

ts1989fanatic Karlie was at fashion week she’s a FUCKING MODEL that’s her job IDIOT, as for Lorde that’s already been clapped back on by Lorde herself.

For someone who gets paid to write, you suck at it maybe you should get into writing fiction that’s pretty much what this whole piece was.