#songs in the key of x

[elvisomar]

Frank Black | Man of Steel | Songs in the Key of X: Music from and Inspired by the X-Files (1996)

[california-112]

"Rewind to 1994 when during the first part of the second season of "The X-Files" a song called "Red Right Hand" was used as a source cue in the second half of a two-part episode entitled Ascension. [...] I'd heard this song on an L.A. late-night alternative station, driving home from an "X-Files" dubbing session. I loved it instantly, and for the next month or two subjected anyone who came into my office to it, at Mach Q levels. Its very ghoulish bass-line and mephitic lyrical imagery had a haunting effect on me and I found myself cueing it up every time I sat down to write." - Chris Carter, 'Songs In The Key Of X' CD insert

Many reasons to hate CC but he was so real for this

[ragnarockz]

VALUE VILLAGE WAS NOT PLAYING AROUND TODAY 👽💚

Songs in the Key of X, 1996

[donnerpartyofone]

I dare you to deny this song

[stonedscully]

LOOK AT MY SON

[bakedbakermom]

'star me kitten' is such a weird fucking song to put on the xf album (songs in the key of x). the rest of it is all this dark rock and lots of synth and then there's this. guy. whose voice indicates he has smoked even more than csm. doing a spoken word. something. cover of r.e.m. and it's so weirdly uncomfortable and intimate. like i'm listening to my grandpa. trying to seduce my grandma.

[retromusicart]

Various - The X-Files - Songs in the Key of X (Warner Bros., Compilation, 1996) - Design by Katherine Delaney, illustration by Sue Coe

Can't get more '90s than The X-Files.

This official compilation contains music from or inspired by the titular show. One of my favorite tracks from it is a Foo Fighters cover of Tubeway Army's "Down in the Park" (The Foos would later perform a re-arranged version of their song "Walking After You" for the tie-in movie a couple years later).

Image courtesy of Discogs.

[kokokoula]

you fall first, but he falls harder

a/n: i can only write fluff, so please trust me that it's fluff. there's like, one usage of 'she', timeskip spoilers, and a bit of language. it's my longest fic yet (which isn't saying much), no beta we die like daichi

you don't know that tsukishima kei knows about your crush on him. it's so damn obvious, how you turn red so easily when he's around. unfortunately for you, though, he doesn't reciprocate, nor does he bother confronting you about it. you are his closest friend other than yamaguchi, and as much as he hates to admit it, he doesn't want to lose you as one. it's so tedious, anyways.

---

"it's our last year in karasuno, do you have anything planned?" you ask as you lay on the floor of tsukishima's room. you're supposed to be studying, since it was what you came over to do with kei and tadashi, but you gave up somewhere halfway in geography.

"it is my last year, but who knows about you? you've been slacking so much, you'd probably have to repeat a year. and could you get up?" he sighs and nudges your side with his foot.

"asshole," you mutter, cheeks growing red. if you know that he just dodged your question, you don't do anything about it. "just you wait, i'll enroll into kyoto university and make you eat your words, beanpole."

"sure." his reply drips with sarcasm, but he doesn't doubt that you can make it far. there's a knock at the door.

"sorry for being late!"

"tadashi!!"

---

kei knows you can read him like an open book. you can tell he's having a bad day just by a conversation with him through text. he also knows that when he says that he doesn't want to talk, you immediately ring his phone.

the first time it happened, he had tried to decline your calls, or just ignore them entirely, but you're insistent. eventually he picked up, filled with pure irritation at that point.

"could you--"

"i'm heading over. i promise i won't push for any details. i'll even get strawberry shortcake on the way." you immediately stated. he paused to mull it over.

"fine, but if the cake sucks, i'm kicking you out." it's safe to say that the cake was good enough to make this a habit, so much so that tsukshima doesn't even know why you still call him to let him know you're coming over. the both of you know you will no matter what.

so here you are, sitting on his bedroom floor with him and eating desserts in silence, save for the music playing softly from his computer.

"you're gonna get in trouble with your parents when they realise you snuck out." he remarks. you shrug your shoulders, stuffing the remaining taiyaki in your mouth.

"i know."

"don't talk with your mouth full." you roll your eyes with a furious blush. somehow, you being here with him becomes sweeter than the strawberry shortcake.

---

you were there when tsukishima made the decision to go professional with volleyball.

his last match as karasuno's middle blocker had ended. his body was sore all over, but somehow the freak duo managed to convince him and yamaguchi to play one more match back at school, just the four of them with yachi. but even with landing third in nationals and a final intimate match with his teammates, he still somehow felt so unsatisfied.

the walk home with you was silent. he was grateful you didn't say anything. he couldn't handle any more questions about how he was feeling when he himself was unsure. it was when you two stepped outside the convenience store after getting ice cream did he come to the conclusion that he never wants to have a last match.

"i'm not going to give up on volleyball after graduation." he announced out of the blue. you were caught off guard for a bit, before grinning at him. "i expected that."

"why?"

"you call hinata and kageyama freaks for being so insane about volleyball, but you don't even realise that you're just as equally crazy about it as them." you said it so nonchalantly as you eat your ice cream, like you're stating a fact. now it was his turn to be taken off guard. he took a while to let it settle in before chuckling softly.

he should have known that you know him better than he does himself.

---

it's graduation day. tsukishima and kageyama are stuck with their four teary-eyed friends by their side. kei awkwardly pats your head, not knowing how to comfort you. you laugh at his feeble attempt, your rosy cheeks burning red. have you always been this cute? in the midst of all the bittersweet interactions, you get distracted by something on your phone, and let out a gasp.

"what is it, (name)?" yamaguchi asks. you're trembling slightly, and tsukishima grows worried.

"i, uh, got into kyoto university," you say in disbelief. "i actually got in!" everyone congratulates you, but you only care about one thing.

"tsukki, remember that day i told you i'd make you eat your words?" he hums in acknowledgement. you shove the acceptance email in his face, but he can only focus on how proud you look with that shit-eating smirk. "what do you have to say now, beanpole?"

he smiles. that's my best friend right there.

"nothing."

---

you were gone before the new year, and kei was handling your absence well until semester started. he had believed it'd be fine, you were only across the country, not across the world. plus, you promised you would call as often as you could.

but he doesn't sees you in his classes anymore, and you don't come over when he's having a bad day. he got himself strawberry shortcake to lighten his mood like it usually does, but he only feels hollow. it doesn't help that since he's going pro, his volleyball training is almost everyday now, and with your commitments, he rarely gets to call you anymore. it hurts like hell inside.

"hey tsukki, you've been off recently. is everything ok?" tadashi calls him one day.

"i'm fine, yamaguchi." kei lies. tadashi isn't convinced.

"does it have something to do with (name) being in kyoto?"

"why would you say that?" he answered too quickly for his liking.

"well, you bring (name) up quite a bit, and when you realise she isn't there, you get all quiet and snappy." tsukishima is about to retort back, but then it hits him.

oh shit, he's in love.

---

the day you finally return back to miyagi to visit, tsukishima waits at the station with yamaguchi. kei's eyes are constantly searching the crowd and flickering to his watch every so often.

"tsukki, relax, she'll be here soon." he ignores tadashi's reassurance.

tsukishima kei is a composed man, always able to think before he acts. but when he catches sight of you, he runs. before you can register anything, he hugs you, gripping onto you like a lifeline, like he will die if he lets go of you.

"tsukki--"

"gosh, i missed you so much, you idiot." he knows you could have easily lost feelings for him when you were away.

"wha--"

"i've suffered so much because of your stupid, dumb ass." he doesn't care.

"wait--"

"i like you, so go out with me before you have to head back to kyoto." you're back, and he's scared to lose you again. every second you stay quiet, the louder his heart beats in his ears.

"really?" you finally say, your voice barely over a whisper.

"yea." another pause.

"guess i'm yours then, beanpole."

bonus:

"you know, i knew about your crush back in high school."

"what the heck?"

"you didn't necessarily hide it well."

"then i'll have you know that yamaguchi told me everything that had happened when i've been gone."

"...fuck."

[moonswolfie]

The HQ!! boys with their number 1 princess

I highly recommend listening to world is mine while reading!!

in case you couldn't tell this is based on the song world is mine (i'm sure my mutuals are sick of hearing me talk about this song atp lmaoooo)

Characters featured: Ushijima, Kageyama, Kenma, Oikawa, Kita

𖦹:･ﾟUshijima Wakatoshi

"Well, are you gonna say anything or not?!" your sudden outburst surprised Wakatoshi.

"Was I supposed to say something?" he asked, almost used to you getting angry for seemingly no reason at this point.

You huffed, crossing your arms. "You didn't even notice, did you?!"

"Notice what?" he asked, clearly confused. He simply wanted to know the reason you're angry with him and how he can fix it. He thinks you look much better when smiling, after all.

"You idiot! I got my hair done! I was flipping my hair at you all day and you didn't even acknowledge it!" you turned away from him, hmphing.

"Oh. I did notice the hair." he stated simply.

"Well then say something about it!"

𖦹:･ﾟKageyama Tobio

"Hey, let's- what is that?" Kageyama stopped mid sentence when noticing the drawing in your notebook.

You closed it at light speed.

"Hey! Don't look at things you're not supposed to!" you scolded him, clutching the notebook in your hold.

What Kageyama just got a glance at was your self-indulgent drawing of him as a prince kissing your hand.

"It was wide open for everyone to see!" Kageyama defended himself, clenching his fist.

"Whatever, just- you didn't see anything, okay?" you swatted his chest lightly with your hand.

"Wait, that kind of looked like you-"

"You didn't see anything, okay?"

𖦹:･ﾟKozume Kenma

"Get me pudding. That's an order." you crossed your arms, plopping down on the bench.

His very fortunately colored hair left you with a little craving.

Kenma sighed, going back to walk into the store. How in the world does he always end up complying to your demands, anyways?

After he bought the pudding, he brought it back to you, who was still pouting and sitting on the bench with your legs crossed. When you noticed him and the pudding in his hands, your face lit up.

"Thank you!!˜" you smiled cheerily, snatching the pudding out of his hands.

Oh, now he knows why. That sweet smile is far too addicting.

𖦹:･ﾟOikawa Tooru

"Hey! Look at me, will you?!" you kicked Oikawa with your pretty pair of heels.

You went to hang out and he barely even looked at your cute outfit. This is absolutely criminal.

"Owww, stop that, will you?!" he complained, mumbling about how he can't catch a break from being abused. How does he always end up with friends who hit him, anyways?

"Fine, fine, I'll look." he rubbed his back, finally looking you up and down.

"You look..."

"I look...?"

"Pretty okay, I guess?" Oikawa winked, shrugging, as if he didn't just experience ten consecutive heart attacks from how cute you looked in that dress. Internally, of course.

"You little- Ugh!" you swung at him again.

𖦹:･ﾟKita Shinsuke

You walked away from Kita, who was busy with something else. If he isn't going to pay attention to you, you might as well go pet that cat across the street.

Ohh, it looks so cute and fluffy. You're ready to pounce.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being embraced from behind, flinching and turning your head back to see Kita.

"Uhhhh?!" you stammered out, completely flustered. What in the world?! He's actually hugging you right now! Could this mean...

"You almost ran into that person. Be more careful." he explained simply, letting you go and turning back to whatever he was doing.

Suddenly you're worried about your walking abilities with how much your legs are shaking.

[jugganautism]

first post on this account #waow

[fxoxota]

f(x) & SHINee = BESTIES 🫂 ʾ

[johnwickb1tsch]

you’re the worst thing (i’m addicted to)

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here...

Part 1.

“Hey, Hels.”

There is no answer, only the warbling of a bird in a distant tree. The day is bright and blue, spring has come again in all her glory. It doesn’t seem right, somehow, that the sun should still shine, and the birds should still sing.

Because she is gone.

It’s been two years, but you still haven’t really wrapped your head around it.

You still have your last text message thread with her in your phone. It’s as though you could just punch a few buttons and still talk to her. Always, she would answer you, no matter what she was doing. Sometimes you want to type in I miss you and hit send, just to see what might happen.

But then, maybe it is appropriate, that today should be such a beautiful day. On this day, forty-two years ago, your sister was born. Roughly ten years later, you followed. As a direct result, your mother died of complications in childbirth.

Your father still blamed you, but Helen never did.

In a way, Helen was your mother, more than the woman who bore you.

It makes it all hurt so much more.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

You look down at the stone, this massive granite behemoth. You find it rather ugly, to be honest, but it will certainly stand the test of time, nuclear war notwithstanding. Loving Wife, reads the epitaph below.

You know it was true.

You know that perhaps John Wick is the only person Helen loved more than you. But the inscription still seems too brief. Short changing her, somehow. 

But then, John paid for the stone, so you suppose he got to pick what it said. 

You were ensuring her memory lived on in other ways. 

“I finally did as you asked,” you tell her. “I’ve used the photos you left me in a painting. We're going to be in a show together. I wish you were here to see it.”

There is a mean part of you that suspects your submission was only accepted because it contained work from the late, great, photographer Helen Morgan-Wick, but you shove that down into the seething pit with all the rest of your fears and doubts. You didn't use them for the attention. You did it to feel close to her, and because she asked you to. One final art project, the note had said. She knew you too well, knew that the only thing that kept you from toeing the line of the abyss was a good artistic obsession.

You knew she’d planned to leave a project for John too. A puppy, she’d said. You’d shared a laugh over it, through tears, the last time you’d been together. You never found out how that had gone. John hadn’t attended a family gathering since Helen passed.

Too painful.

You didn’t blame him one bit. 

“I miss you, Hels. I feel so lost without you.”

“Amen.”

The sound of another voice behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You turn to find him, in one of his signature tailored black suits, looking unfairly scrumptious despite the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't made a sound in his approach. He never did. The man moved like a ghost and looked like a dark dream. You'd always found him insanely attractive.

You'd never done anything about that, of course. But goddamn, you had eyes.

“Hi, John.”

“Hello, y/n.”

You’ve never run into him at the gravesite before, though you have seen the wilted offerings of daisies left by the stone, and you always had assumed they’d come from him. You haven’t seen him since Helen’s funeral. He hasn’t changed much, really, though there is a sharpness to his aspect you’d never noticed when Helen was alive. An edge to his gaze; how can eyes so dark convey so much? Despite yourself, it sends a little thrill down your spine that you absolutely know you should not revel in.  

Maybe you haven’t seen him in person after Helen passed, but you’ve gazed at him plenty through Helen’s lens. There had been so many photographs of him in the collection of prints she’d left you. Nothing risqué, but the way he’d looked at her even through the camera had been nothing less than intimate.

There were times, late at night in your studio, when you’d pretended he’d been looking at you that way.

“How…have you been?” 

He offers a grim shadow of a smile and a shake of his head that you understand all too well. 

“Nice to be with someone you don't have to pretend with.”

“Yeah.”

You both stare down at the grave, meditating on your loss of this woman who touched you both so completely.

“Do you think she can hear us?” you ask, unable to lift your voice above a whisper.

There is a long pause from her widower, the man she left behind.

“Not really.” He lifts his face to the sun, eyes closed, as though maybe he can feel something of her presence. “But you should talk to her anyway. I might be wrong.”

You smile at that.

“Do you ever talk to her?”

“All the time,” he admits with a huff of self-deprecating laughter. “But then, I might just be losing my mind.”

“Ah well. That makes two of us then.”

You gently lay down the bouquet of Gerber daisies you'd brought for her. Helen’s favorite. If you ever have a garden, you will plant some for her. As it is, you have to buy them from the store. You remember the patch of daisies she’d cultivated in the garden of your childhood home. Their cheerful faces and soft petals. They had been your mother’s favorite too. When you were a girl Helen would sing to you and braid them in your thick hair. You couldn’t know at the time, how precious those perfect days had been.

The wave of sorrow hits you like a freight train, the weight of your loss a crushing force. You start to cry, hiding your face in your hands; you would prefer to do this alone, but you cannot stop it.

You feel an arm about your shoulders. It surprises you—John was never a touchy-feely man, never one for hugs, always preferring a wave or a handshake. Only for Helen, did he ever display any sort of affection. They had always been touching, holding hands or sitting hip to hip on the couch, his strong arm slung protectively around her shoulders. You didn’t want to say you’d been envious of that, but…perhaps you’d wondered, what it might be like, to be so cherished.

When he pulls you against him you only manage some token resistance. “I’ll mess up your suit.” You sound pitiful, even to you.

“I have an excellent dry cleaner.”

His dry wit had always amused you. This time, it breaks you, and you give in. He is solid as an oak, and as it turns out, his chest is an excellent place to cry on. Under the shelter of his chin you wring yourself dry, until it feels like you have nothing left inside you. His large hand rests lightly upon the back of your head, shielding you from the world. He is warm, and his cologne is subtle but heavenly. Sandalwood, maybe, and something spiced. Cardamom, perhaps. A hint of pepper.

You don’t particularly want to move, even though you absolutely should. Yet his hold on you has not loosened, and you tell yourself that maybe John Wick needed a hug just as badly as you did.

“People keep telling me that it gets easier, and I just want to punch them in the face,” you sniffle.

A huff of laughter escapes him. You feel it stir your hair on the top of your head. “Yeah. I get that.”

Finally you pull back, though not as far as you should. You’ve never actually been this close to him before, and you look at each other from a foot away. Sometimes proximity can shatter the illusion of someone’s attractiveness—but not this man. The impossible angle of his cheekbones, the soft scruff of his beard…is it just you, or does the edge in his gaze soften a little, when he looks at you? It makes your legs a little weak, and you kind of hate yourself for it.

It has nothing to do with you, stupid, you tell yourself. Where you and Helen weren’t exactly twins, you did resemble each other strongly. In profile, you’d been mistaken for her in public plenty of times before. If anything, it was probably unnerving for this poor man who missed his wife so much, to hold you, a sorry facsimile, in his arms. Out of pity, most likely.  

Helen had been the good sister. The upstanding one, the kind one. You? You can be such a twisted little thing.

“Sorry,” you sigh, noticing the smudge of makeup on his lapel.

He doesn’t even glance down, that intense gaze still fixed upon you. “Don’t be.”

Unbidden heat blooms from your cheeks to your toes, finding yourself the subject of that gaze. You’ve got to go, before you really embarrass yourself.

“I'll leave you alone. It was nice to see you, John.”

You turn to go, hugging yourself against the early spring chill. Why did you have to feel so bereft, without his arms around you? You take a few steps before he calls after you, “Y/n?”

You freeze in your tracks, a thrill jetting down your spine. “Yeah?” you dare, turning to half look over your shoulder.

“I…was thinking about going to Helen’s favorite restaurant tonight. Would you like to join me?”

Your heart beats double time in your chest, as you slowly turn to face him. You should say no. There’s a thousand reasons you should say no. This was your sister’s husband. It doesn’t matter that he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and that he’s been kind to you, and that he’s looking at you like he might drown if you say no.

“I would like that,” you answer, and your heartbeat thundering in your ears sounds like the hammering of nails into your own coffin.

Part 2

[bl-bracket]

Poorest Little Meow Meow NOT from a BL: Bonus Round

[Submitted Reasons Under Cut]

Han Juwon: He is a typical kdrama lead in theory, his mom has been taken from him at a young age, his dad sent him far away to private schools and is using him in his political schemes. Han Juwon has mysophobia, not a social bone in his body and a RBF that do not endear him to people at all. He's not above using people and a little tweaking of the law to reach his goals.

Wave:

Ryu Sooyel: look how soppy wet he is. no one respects him. not even himself

Vier:

Kishimoto Ruka:

Katha: Khatha is such a poor little meow meow that he should be allowed to participate.

Lee Dongsik: He has been wrongly accused of killing his twin sister 20 years ago but never really cleared his name (no body, no crime, no convicted murderer) and is still searching for her. People still think he did it and are not afraid to treat him like shit. He's heavily traumatized. And let's say he's not above a little manipulation and crime to find his sister and her murderer

Jiang Zisuan: he spent like half of his life trying to avenge the death of his older sister and then for some reason just cant seem to actually do that before (SPOILER) dying in a random woman‘s arms who he employed because she looks like his sister and imagining that its actually her. she also was kind of in love with him which made this whole situation worse. and he killed so many people on the way except the guy he actually wanted to

Yun Biqui: SPOILER WARNING FOR SERIES: Ten years ago, Yun Biqiu was tricked into betraying the sect leader he idolized, Li Xiangyi. At the behest of a beautiful woman, he poisoned LXY; he only intended to temporarily incapacitate LXY, but the antidote he was promised turned out to be fake. LXY disappeared and was presumed dead, and Biqiu never stopped blaming himself and hoping that LXY would return. EXTREME SPOILER WARNING FOR END OF SERIES: When LXY eventually did return ten years later, Biqiu pretended to be re-beguiled by the beautiful woman in order to sabotage her evil schemes; to convince her of his loyalty, he also pretended to betray LXY again, stabbing him non-fatally and bringing him to her. His sabotaging allowed LXY to escape, though, and helped contribute to the defeat of all the baddies. Despite this, he still believed that he deserved to die for everything he'd done previously; when confronted with his past treachery and presumed current treachery, he did not defend himself, and would have willingly submitted to his own execution. Luckily, LXY arrived in time to reveal the truth of Biqiu's regret and loyalty, and also finally gave Biqiu peace by forgiving him for what he'd done ten years ago. And Biqiu cried 🥺

Master Amin: girlbossed to close to the sun

Shiro: Sleeping with a sleazy, much older politician in order to get information about his missing sister, who isn’t even his sister by blood. Openly gay yakuza and ready to fight about that. Cohabitating with a painfully strait laced and uptight virgin penguin. (A cop. Not a literal penguin.)

[dipplinduo]

Chapter 4 of The Dichotomy in Our Hearts is out!!

Sooooo! Fun little notes for this one:

I know I've previously talked about having this being a double update/combined Chapter 4 & 5 finale release. And while I tried my best to aim for that, I really wanted to get something out this weekend after working pretty damn hard on this.

I have no idea what it is with this specific fic, but compared to all of my other works, I for some reason put much more of my time, heart and soul into the writing. There's multiple themes have come up symbolically within this fic that don't come up in other works as saliently - both planned and unplanned - and I care a lot about their execution to a fault. I cannot tell you how many times I've revised and rewritten this specific fic. It has been very agonizing and frustrating if I'm being real. LOL. But! With both the beautiful, beautiful feedback I get on this work, as well as specific encouragement from the iconic @kekstala who helped me break my writer's block, I've been sitting with this work and what it really means to the audience I'm lucky to have for it. I now see the unique elements that make this fic so beloved: there's some level of angst, but it's much different than the type of angst I typically convey for dipplinshipping. There's familial dynamics and researched cultural elements. There's a lot of lightheartedness that somehow balances with incredibly moving moments and deeper conversations that may speak to readers beyond the context of the fic itself. And if y'all see all that?! I want to honor that like fuck, and I want this story to be that bitch that wraps up as graciously as possible given the praise its received.

That being said, this chapter was a much longer chapter, and I'm proud of how it turned out. I didn't want to rush the content for Chapter 5 just for the sake of releasing it immediately - I have a collection of cute, sweet, funny, and endearing moments that I want to flush out fully so this story ends on a high note.

I hope this was worth the wait, and I hope ya' stick around for Chapter 5. :) <3 With love,

dipplinduo