#this is healing music to me

[sharlmbracta]

have i ever shown you guys this video exists

(kinda fairly loud at the beginning so volume warning)

this 10 yr old piece is epically full of love

[front-facing-pokemon]

[sunleaffe]

young revolutionaries in love 💞

[undeadvinyls]

i know its absolutely not rockstar's vibe but lemme self indulge

[vasito-de-leche]

okay I read your analysis on Forget Me Not and I'm in tears now thank you. (No but really thank you, it's such a touching piece.) Can you PLEASE for salvation of our fans souls write anything to like,,, give him hope? Forget Me Not x reader but it doesn't have to be actually all-out with hugs and kisses. We may,,,,,,,, just show him a new hobby? Any hobby of your choosing or idk play an instrument together. Just to give him something else to focus on, to channel at least part of his energy from self-destructive activities to something less hurtful. I'd personally like to bandage his (not actually wounded but still) hands as if they were bleeding. Something of the kind. Sorry for mistakes writing is incredibly inconvenient cuz tears aaa.

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "hands, fingers, scales"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 2.3k words. self-harm implied You've befriended Forget Me Not the same one befriends a rabid, beaten, old dog. And while he's much too busy fighting his inner demons, you're more worried about stopping these "pernicious habits" of his. A casual afternoon trying to make sure he's taking care of himself turns into something deeper.

thank you so much for the ask, nonnie!!

I got a little carried away with this request because thinking about how fucking insufferable and confusing FMN has to be just to indulge in HAND HOLDING and GETTING A FUCKING HOBBY made me so deranged and feral as if hes not fucking TOUCHSTARVED lmfao. this guy's love language is straight up worshipping, mf is not subtle about it

either way, hope you like it! here's the lil preview!

Sometimes, Forget Me Not understands the reason men and women kneel at the pew to worship and pray.

Devotion is something arcanists and humans share, whether honest or not. He's witnessed the rich and the poor, the pure and the depraved, and every binary that rules this world - all of them begging, pleading and praying at the end of their lives, casting away the pride they've held on for so long for the chance of salvation. Once stripped down to their core, there is nothing to do but hope God has enough love in His heart to look their way. 

And sometimes, Forget Me Not prays that you’ll find someone else - anyone but him - to fill the role of devotee.

The gentleness in your eyes whenever you look at him is enough to bring him to his knees, and Forget Me Not doesn't know what to do with himself but to worship and pray. Praying that you'll continue to look at him for a little longer, silently begging for your attention until you finally tire of him. Do you think yourself holy enough to replace the vitriol in his veins?

He does.

On good days, he even hopes that you can save him.

You never asked him to become your one and only believer, of course. You're not even aware of the space you take in his mind, nor the conflicting images he keeps conjuring of you at night, he's certain of this. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, holding his hands and inspecting them for any injuries. This role is one of the many self-imposed tragedies in his life.

Your thumbs knead and massage his palm, as if you could soothe the pain away, and yet you refrain from pressing down hard. He's at your mercy, why hesitate? What do you see that he cannot?

Something is bothering you. It's obvious in the way you touch him, like you're afraid of hurting him, as if you were the one with a body count between the two. Every so often, your movements come to a halt and you both sit in silence, until you return to your ministrations, filling the nothingness with your sighing and humming.

All he needs is to look up, right at your face, to know everything he wants to know - but he's too much of a coward for that. Instead, light grey eyes follow your index finger as it slides under the cuffs of his shirt. You trace over the bone of his wrist and continue upwards.

He can't tear his eyes away.

Normally, Forget Me Not wouldn't mind. There is an addictive thrill to witnessing the shock of anyone who dares get so close and personal, but he feels himself shrink when you brush against his scales and recoil away on instinct. That's when he raises his head and finds your eyes in the dimly lit staff room.

That expression on your face - surely, you were regretting every choice that led you to him. By now, you might've surely realized that there is nothing for you to salvage in this shipwreck he calls a life. All attempts to check on him were surely a façade for whatever ulterior motives you continued to withhold from him. He's stubborn, believing that he can read you like an open book, but now he's just as lost as you are. When he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it and he grows a little restless at your words.

"Sorry, sorry! Did I, uh, hurt you? Dumb question, you would've definitely told me if that were the case. Anyway, it looks like you're okay! I don't know why I was so worried, actually."

His silence prompts you to continue, and all Forget Me Not can focus on is the absence of your warmth.

You raise a hand to gesture dismissively at your behaviour, brush it off to ease your embarrassment, that much he understands - though it's painful to watch you fumble like that, to deny what he hides under his clothes. Forget Me Not thinks of filling the space between your fingers with his own, just to drag you back to that quiet, albeit suffocating, moment of peace. Instead of doing that, he retreats and places both hands neatly on his lap.

"Thanks for indulging me and, yeah uh, again - sorry about that? It just caught me off guard. I should've been more careful."

But you were never careful with his space or his rules, plunging in and out of his life and leaving him to figure out where he stood in his game of push and pull. Why were you being careful now?

"It's nothing, I understand," he lies. Everything you do means the world to him and he doesn't even understand why. "It cannot hurt to know what sort of things the person pouring your drinks might be hiding under their sleeves."

The word "hypocrite" lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out with as much venom as he can muster, but it stays lodged behind his teeth because he knows he's even worse: Forget Me Not prays that you'll stay with him, while also opening the door right out his life for you. As much as he wants to, he has no right of calling you out.

He's not used to receiving apologies and so he chooses not to think too hard on yours - though he's dreamed countless of times for the perfect situation in which he finally rips out one apology after another from the throats of those who wronged him, this one feels different. Undeserved, even.

His heart, that wretched lump in his chest, finally settles down and he prepares to end this interaction to save you the awkwardness of addressing his "deformities". But then you go and surprise him once more.

"Come on, I already told you..." You sigh and he inhales in tandem, but you're much too busy rolling your eyes to notice. "That whole thing you do, when you start scratching or, like, picking at your hand? You've been doing it more lately. It had me worried you might've been doing, I don't know - something."

Forget Me Not's eyes widen in surprise. The audacity to notice such things about him? And to put them on display without a warning? What else did you find out?

Part of him wants him to embrace his nature and scare you away, but that's the side of him that's been slowly losing this battle of attrition in his heart - you're a bad influence for him, after all. The other part... Well, it's still trying to sort itself out.

He settles for slowly undoing the buttons on his sleeve. It only takes a moment to roll up the fine fabric to his elbow, knowing you're staring right at him, through him maybe. The expression on his face is one of indifference, one he fights to maintain - this is the most vulnerable he's felt in decades.

That unsightly pattern begins exactly where his sleeves usually end, coiling around his forearm not unlike a snake and traveling upwards. The scales are dark, an iridescent black that reminds him of an oil spill in the middle of the ocean, and the ones at the edges fade away into lighter hues until they mix with the pale, sickly tone of his skin. He knows the sort of beauty he holds, one that can only be admired at a distance, turning into a grotesque imitation of a man when up close.

Forget Me Not presents himself to you and, with his free hand, gets ready to pluck one of the scales off.

"Wait, don't do that-!"

Seizing his arm and holding it close to your chest, you deprive him of the catharsis that comes with this level of self-mutilation. He knows you're connecting the dots, feeling the scattered, empty spaces from all the times you saw him pick himself apart and more. Your fingers brush against his bare skin looking for said spaces, counting them in your head, mourning their loss.

Some scales are in the process of regrowing like unwanted parasites, and he wishes he could feel anything at all just to be closer to you.

"God, what is wrong with you?! What was the point of that?"

Something compels him to laugh (perhaps it's your heartbeat reaching out to him loud and clear through your clothes, he feels it faintly) it comes across as sinister and condescending, the only way he knows how to express joy. Like he's making fun of your concern.

"Apologies," Forget Me Not begins to say, readjusting his glasses. The way you try to keep his own arm out of his reach doesn't go unnoticed. It's such a petty, childish gesture that makes his grin widen and your frown deepen. "I was under the impression you found this little oddity distasteful. There's no need to worry - they will return in a few days, they always do."

"Still, don't do that. It's not funny. It must...hurt a lot."

"Ah, but it doesn't. If else, I'd compare it to being pricked by a very small needle."

"You're just going to find something to nitpick and contradict everything I say, aren't you?" It's the least he can do to repay all the headaches you've given him, and for forgiving his transgressions too easily.

An intrusive thought makes itself known from the depths of his mind - would you forgive him just as readily if he were to kill someone in front of you? If he showed you just how destructive his arcane skills could be when given free reign? Where would you draw the line? And how much could he continue to push his luck before he lost you?

Before Forget Me Not realizes it, you've loosened your grip on his arm and returned to that previous moment of suffocating peace - the only difference is that you've gone from being deep in thought to troubled and miserable, one hair away from darting out the room and refusing to speak to him. At this, his pinky finger wraps around yours and neither of you mention it.

"Can't you... I don't know, do something else?"

"I could be doing my job, but alas, you're keeping me prisoner here." He says, like he's not delighted to be given your undivided attention. There are no complaints when you step on his foot with a huff, he deserved that one.

"I'm talking about the scales thing! You could wear gloves. If it happens when you get distracted then, I could hang around to make sure you stop in time." A pause, and then the sound of your voice becomes unsure and so very small. "Maybe if we covered them with bandages...? But that could be annoying. Band aids? No, no - too unprofessional. It would ruin the whole aesthetic you're going for."

You continue to trail off, coming up with many different ideas and solutions to a problem he caused. He doesn't understand why you'd even bother in the first place. For you to reciprocate the attention he gives you, to care about him? That's the hardest pill Forget Me Not has ever swallowed - it's something he twirls around with his tongue, as if deciding whether to poison himself with bliss or spit it out and continue latching on to his doubts and insecurities.

Outside, in front of everyone at The Walden, he's the one leading the crowd and talking for hours on end, commanding their attention and manipulating the flow of every conversation.

Behind closed doors, all he does is listen to every nonsensical thought, unnecessary opinion and strange anecdote you throw at him.

"...No, that won't work either." Absentmindedly, you fix and button his sleeve back into place.

You've grown used to his silence the same way you've adapted and grown used to his flaws.

"I mean, it worked on me - getting a little slap on the wrist whenever I started biting my nails, but..." Without even thinking, you rub circles with your thumb across his knuckles.

You might as well be the stupidest angel in heaven.

"Why don't you just get a hobby? That's good enough, right? It's been so long since I've heard you play piano, the one by the stage." And just like that, you're on your feet attempting to drag him outside for a demonstration. "You could teach me! That way, we get to do something fun and I get to keep an eye on you."

Forget Me Not knows he has nothing to offer to this world, but when his saint looks at him with such hope, he cannot refuse. The path to recovery seems almost doable when you bump your shoulder into his, challenging him to play the hardest song he knows.

The stars in your eyes whenever you recognize all the songs he plays becomes intoxicating, more so than the sweet, sweet revenge he's yearned for since he spiraled into decadence.

Some days, his patrons join with their own singing or humming, and he forgets that he hates each and every one of them for as long as his fingers dance across the keys - a momentary reprieve from the constant stream of negativity. It doesn't take long for his body to remember his training and soon, he's improvising.

A melody for gloomy, rainy days. A whimsical tune here and there for celebrations.

A song for you and himself - the first one he teaches you and the only one he plays in private, when he's all alone with nothing but his thoughts. Solitude has gone from a noose wrapped around his neck to the perfect time to compose and hone this long forgotten passion. For the first time in forever, he doesn't dread the silence of an empty room, the endless wait between his shifts at The Walden - not when he can simply fill them with more and more music.

And so, Forget Me Not plays, hoping that you'll continue to cheer him on. Hoping that this tiny spark you've ignited in him can truly become his salvation.

[justanotherghostwriter]

I am fully acknowledging that X-Men '97 may have flaws. I just can't see them right now because the first episode has healed so much of my Bad Scott Summers Representation trauma I'm sobbing on the inside. And a little on the outside. (That theme song legit made me shed tears.)

I am trying to be cautious, and remember that Ororo, Hank and even Logan didn't have much time to shine (and, boy, do I miss Bobby a lot from the lineup) but... :3 My boy got to be strict and cool and smirk-y and a great leader and vulnerable and respected and approachable and awkward and "No, but have you met my wife" levels of proud of Jean.

I'm just going to sit here and bask for a while.

[cinamun]

My spotify wrapped just proved that I am the Blackest person to have ever existed.

Good morning.

[cassiaslair]

from i prevail's album, trauma ( 2019 ). slightly modified to fit dialogue prompts. if it's in parentheses, feel free to omit it.

bow down.

get on your knees & bow down.

i come alive, i'll survive, take on anything.

so paint a target on my back, let 'em come to me.

i'm on another level that you'll never reach.

if you seek forgiveness, you'll get nothing from me.

you will never know, it's the price i pay.

look into my eyes, we are not the same.

i'm in control, & you'll know my name.

i gave my life, gave it everything.

the best of your best ain't good enough.

keep running your mouth, & i'ma call your bluff.

so... i had this dream, it meant everything, & i watched it come alive.

i let you in, underneath my skin, & i learned to love the lies.

now i lay awake & i contemplate... have i become what i hate?

would you go to war? would you die for it?

paranoid.

something isn't right, i feel it in my bones.

every time i look around, it follows me home.

i get so stressed out when my head gets loud.

all this emptiness inside, i can't fill the void in my mind.

sometimes i just wanna die (wish that i could tell you why).

is it all inside my head?

i just can't escape the noise.

i think i'm paranoid.

every time you leave.

all i ever wanted was to find someone.

holding it together is the hardest part.

every time you leave, i lose a little piece of me.

every time we speak, words don't do it justice.

it's just us from here.

finishing the puzzle is the hardest part.

everyday wishin' you could stay, 'cause our minds may change, but our hearts remain.

i can't believe you gotta go away again.

if you ever start to hesitate & you feel the weight, it starts to break.

we're not the same; know that this means everything to me.

no one said life gets in the way.

rise above it.

i've been patiently waiting, tying my stomach in knots.

i've been lost in the moment, going to war with my thoughts.

if you're feeling the pressure, the pressure's all that i got.

so if you think you're ready, i'm here to tell you you're not.

you're in over your head.

i'll be damned if i ever let you get me again.

i will stop at nothing 'cause i was made to rise above it.

one of these days, everyone will know (but for now i stand alone).

i count my enemies like trophies.

i've got nothing left to prove.

when i look at you, all i see are trophies.

i'm not afraid to put it all on the line (like it runs in my veins).

you cannot stop me, so don't even try.

breaking down.

i think... i think too much.

i'm a little bit paranoid.

i think i'm breaking (down).

maybe it's in my blood.

hate every single second, minute, hour, every day.

everybody's out to get you.

every time they ask me, i just tell 'em that i'm fine.

i try to hide my demons, but they only multiply.

everybody fucking hates you.

i say i'm feeling hopeless, but no one's listening.

i don't really like myself.

DOA.

on our knees, we pray as we waste away.

we dig our grave, dead on arrival.

i close my eyes & contemplate on why i chose to be great.

i find myself trying to escape from where i'm supposed to be safe.

maybe i should pray like i'm supposed to be saved.

sometimes i feel like getting even, but i choose to behave.

i'm mentally locked in a prison (& i need bail).

i wish i was more flourished. i wish i had more courage.

i wonder if it's all worth it (i wonder...).

dead is the land of the free.

am i not worth saving?

gasoline.

let's burn it fucking down.

back from the dead to tell you that i'm alive.

killed the old way (but i survived).

fuck the blueprint.

death or exile, you decide.

tell 'em all that i made my name.

now it's mine to send up in flames.

this right here is as far as you go.

this right here is where i lose control.

burn it all down, i don't give a fuck.

fuck what they say, fuck everything.

kill it all (kill everything).

nothing but red inside when i close my eyes.

break or bow down, you decide.

tell 'em all that you can't be saved.

tell 'em all that you dug this grave.

learn to live in this mess you made.

hurricane.

tell me i was never good enough.

remind me of the demons that i've been running from.

tell me who the hell you thought i was.

just blame it on the person, the person i've become.

lately, i don't give a fuck.

i can't be myself when i'm with anyone.

(&) maybe, i'm already gone.

i'll never be the same.

it hit me like a hurricane.

i don't know why i drown my mind (in everything they say).

it got the best of me.

tell me that i'm lost inside my mind.

i reach out, but it's pulling me under.

remind me i've been searching for something i won't find.

tell me i was never worth the time.

just blame it on the person you think i left behind.

look into my eyes.

believe me that the storm is coming.

let me be sad.

i'm holding back right now.

('cause) i'm numb to what's around.

i miss the life i used to have (with you right here).

now everything is turning grey.

i'm blacking out the shades for now.

let me be sad.

let me be sad, even for a little while. just a chance to catch my breath.

let me be sad, even for a little while, 'cause it's all that i have left.

can you see it in my eyes, i've been distant?

i can't tell if it's the end or the beginning.

i know i haven't been myself, i'll admit it.

i put up walls so if i burned any bridges, just know i'm doing everything i can to try & fix it (but knowing me i'll probably miss it).

these voices get so vicious.

feels like i'm ripping stitches.

i wish some days i could go back (before life changed, it was so fast).

that time is gone, & i know that (so please, let me be sad).

when all i see are memories, i don't wanna lose a thing.

low.

i'm so damn low.

i can't lie, i'm falling (the floor gave out again).

the walls are caving in.

i've got these voices in my head.

i don't know why i'm broken.

my world is sinking in.

they tell me that i'm not enough.

is it my time?

even when i'm high, i still feel low.

voices in my head won't leave me alone.

i keep falling.

i'm in over my head again.

i'm on my own, i know it.

i think i'm too far gone to save.

i can't let go. i'm holding, i feel it slip away.

the more they say, the more they cut.

i'm hanging by a thread (don't know if i let go).

i'm doing everything i can to fix the problem.

this is how it feels when you hit rock bottom.

deadweight.

i'm cutting out the deadweight.

let me take a second to get this through to you.

it's time you get put in the rearview.

cut ties, there's nothing left to your lies, i'm seeing right through.

let me lay it out so it's clear for you to see.

i'm done with the ones that don't believe.

i'm cutting out the ones who drag me down.

all this negativity weighing down on me.

admit it's so pathetic to think i'd carry you.

i'd rather watch all the lows you sink to.

now i can see what you're really all about.

turn your back & run your mouth.

i laugh at all the time you wasted.

you're bitter, i can fucking taste it.

so if you think that you can drag me down, it's gonna come back around.

keep it up, motherfucker (i'll cut you out).

i don't belong here.

'cause i don't belong here.

those days, it was all i wanted.

nowadays, it feels all the same.

used to stare at my bedroom ceiling wishing everything would change.

now it's hard when you're always searching for the life that you left behind.

time disappears, year after year.

how the hell did i get here?

i feel so far away.

minutes turn to hours & the hours into days.

i gave up everything.

you don't know what you got until you throw it all away.

looking back on the past, all the time i wasted...

i'm running from everyone that tells me that i'm fading out.

must be mistaken 'cause i don't feel anything.

you know i got this brain, it drives me insane.

some days i feel i can't take the pain.

i can't explain it 'cause i don't need anything.

[baeshijima]

ROBIN I AM UR BIGGEST FAN AND LIFETIME SUPPORTER PLS SIGN MY FOREHEAD

[raplinesmoon]

The D-Day finale was the epitome of love in all its finest forms.

To see Yoongi go out on that stage, from every growl to soothing melody, to give his best until his voice ran hoarse, that’s love.

To see Hoseok and Seokjin in the crowd, waving their army bombs and choosing to spend their day off with their brother and with us, that’s love.

To have Yoongi give us stickers and thumbs up, for the crowd to give their everything to him, from the fan chants to the signs, that’s love.

To watch Namjoon come up on stage and perform with Yoongi, the one he’s been with forever, that’s love.

To witness Namjoon performing the most beautiful song, one that he’s worked so hard on, and for him to share it with us first, that’s love.

To watch Yoongi shed tears and be so openly vulnerable while performing, for him to show his pain so openly and ask for our voices to help him, that’s love.

To see him thank June, Adora, Yi-jeong, and all his other team members for helping him along the way, for putting on such a great show for us, that’s love.

To finally get to see Yoongi’s tattoo, one he chose to put on his injured shoulder, and to witness him walk through the door at the end, to know that he’s healing and so are we, that’s love.

I hope Yoongi knows that we love him and Bangtan in every way possible, because they’ve shown us enough love to last seven lifetimes 💜

[synthshenanigans]

NEW SONG TODAY

[flugame-mp3]

no matter the other shit that's been going on in my life, talking about this tour with y'all and experiencing it together has helped save my life this year. i know people have said it but i'm so glad we got to do this together. and i can't wait for next time. i'm giving you all a big giant hug, i love you and i mean it!!!

[dank-meme-legend]

A few lyrical moments in HTDIO where they just Get It

"So much can go wrong tomorrow by simply being me." - "So Much in Common"

"When I mess it up, when I mess it up..." - "Butterflies" (my favorite HTDIO song at the moment omg)

"But if it's hard, then its worth doing it right!" - "Butterflies"

"Do I only exist on this planet to make someone else feel inspired?" - "Nothing at All"

"If you stay, which people don't normally do." - "Drift"

“Try to decipher each new impossible rule.” - “Under Control”

“Taking authority, some recognition.” - “Under Control”

[starry-bi-sky]

what piercings does Danny have in your CFAU?

Danny’s got double lobe piercings on both ears, and then helixes, and an orbital on one side! Then he’s got an eyebrow piercing on the right side of his face. I don’t have any particular reason for why he’s got piercings as an adult, I just thought it’d be a fun way to indicate a physical change from when he was 14 and last saw the Waynes, to the next time they see him. Although with this version of Danny (rather than my original, unserious beta version of CFAU), it probably would follow that he'd potentially get piercings when he was older. (So not a total shock)

[kazbrekkerfast]

has anyone written a tangled wesper au becuase I friend just showed me a post about it and I have gone feral

like wylan is so tangled coded he can do music and sing and draw and is locked away by a gaslighting ass bitch and just wants to leave and escape his tower and then this hot flirty thief arrives and helps him escape they are literally perfect omg

[berrylovesmymood]

I love my music taste but I'd never play it out loud :>