#i recommend listening to her songs

[sugaroto]

So... I was listening to "Αρωματικά κεριά" by Fegaroskonh and it kinda inspired me to draw it ♡

I don't usually post art but hey😅 that's a nice song

Lyrics under the cut (with translation)

Το τέρας κάτω απ'το κρεβάτι μου έχει αλλόκοτες συνήθειες κι όλο ανάβει αρωματικά κεριά

The monster under my bed has strange habits and keeps lighting aromatic candles

ασυνήθιστη εμμονή απ' τις 3 ως το πρωί μυρωδιές από κανέλα και βροχή

Unusual obsession from 3 to the morning smells from cinnamon and rain

πεταμένα κάτω σπίρτα και να κλαίει όλη νύχτα γιατί είναι λίγο κλειστοφοβικό

Thrown down matches and it cries all night cause it's a little claustrophobic

πόσο φριχτά είναι τα άλλα τέρατα αγνοεί τι κι αν μυρίζει όλο το σπίτι λουκουμάδες μάλλον είμαι τυχερή

How horrible the others monsters are it ignores and what if the whole house smells like donuts maybe I am lucky

το τέρας κάτω απ' το κρεβάτι μου αγαπάει τα παραμύθια

The monster under my bed loves fairytales

και φοβάται λίγο τα γερμανικά

And is a little bit afraid of german

αν τη Ραπουνζέλ γνωρίσει υπαρξιακή θα πάθει κρίση

If it meets Rapunzel it will have an existential crisis

κι έτσι το βιβλίο κρατάμε μακριά

And so we keep the book away

του αρέσουνε οι κώνοι και να πίνει τσάι λεμόνι κι όλο λέει ότι το τρώει η μοναξιά

It likes cones and to drink lemon tea and it keeps saying that it's full of loneliness

τι κι αν είναι τα άλλα τέρατα φριχτά προτιμώ απ' το να ζω μέσα σε θρίλερ τα αρωματικά κεριά

And what if the other monsters are terrible I prefer rather than living in a Thriller the aromatic candles

[haveihitanerve]

My Sun And Stars

“Nausea is a feeling of discomfort or sickness in the stomach, often described as an urge to vomit. It can also feel like an unsettled stomach or queasiness.”

“Thank Siri.” Stephanie Brown grumbled, arms cradling the toilet bowl as she lay crumpled in the corner of her bathroom. She totally wanted the textbook definition of what nausea was and not what caused it.

But before she could snark this totally useless comment to her inanimate device, a new wave smashed into her and she bent back over the bowl, hurling up her breakfast, and probably last nights dinner, and then all of her internal organs. Or at least, that's what it felt like.

She stayed there for a few minutes, just heaving until nothing came out anymore, and let herself fully collapse to the floor.

After about five minutes when she was sure her body wasn’t going to immediately kill her if she tried to stand, she wobbled to her feet and flushed, washing her hands and her mouth in the sink before stumbling to her bed.

It seemed there was no more denying the test at the bottom of her trashcan. Siri, after giving her about seven different ways to say she felt like her insides were being stretched like a rubber band and basketball-ed out through her throat, it had, in fact, given her a list of reasons as to why she was feeling nauseous. And, unfortunately, pregnancy was decently high up.

She curled onto her side, dragging her comforter over her shoulders as she tugged out her phone. Her fingers hovered over her contact list, lip caught between her teeth. It wasn't that she didn't have people to call. It was just… who.

Her thumb moved to the pinned number, only a heart as the name. Steph sighed, switching off the phone and dropping it on the bed next to her.

Tim… He would… she didn't know, actually. There was no doubt he would care for her if she told him. He had taken care of her when the child hadn’t been his. But that had also been… obligation free. When she hadn’t known who he was. When the kid hadn't been his.

Her hand reached down, cupping her stomach. Last time… she didn't have a particularly good memory or fondness of being pregnant. She hadn't wanted it, the father hadn't been around, and she had been young. So young.

Steph sighed, dropping her hand as she sat up. There wasn't any way to actually keep the pregnancy hidden, not from the worlds greatest detective and not from Bruce either. It wasn't like she saw them on a daily basis or anything.

She dropped her head into her hands, taking deep, measured breaths. She was due for a date with Tim later, at seven. He’d said he’d come to pick her up. Steph glanced at the clock. It was twelve.

She let out a soft whimper groan, getting to her feet and grabbed her coat. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

The walk to Wayne Manor was long, but Steph didn't mind. The cold air gave her something else to focus on, like the numbness of her hands, totally a symptom of the wind and not her anxiousness, and the fact that she was inhaling Gotham air.

She had to smile at that thought, though. It was one of Tim’s biggest gripes. How she and Jason and Bruce all relished breathing the city in deeply, how unbalanced they felt outside of Gotham, how rejuvenated the toxic air made them feel, while it made him gag.

Her smile dropped as she neared the Wayne gates, bypassing them with ease. With her keys. She knew it would set off alarms, she never used the gate the normal way. None of them did, save Alfred. But she honestly was too tired to care.

Bruce, surprisingly, opened the door. “Tim isn’t here. He and Cass are out right now.” Steph nodded, the numbness spreading slightly. She had wanted to put off the reveal, but now that she was here she just wanted to get it over with.

“Steph?” Bruce asked gently, and she realized he’d been speaking. He stepped aside, gesturing at the foyer. “Would you like to come in?” For about the first time, Steph realized she very much did.

She nodded, stumbling into the entrance as Bruce closed the door behind her, still so gentle. So careful. He reached for her jacket, but Steph leaned away. She needed the comfort of something thick around her.

“Would you like a blanket?” Bruce asked quietly, because of course he knew. Of course he saw. He always saw. Saw all of her. Too much.

Steph nodded, allowing him to slip the jacket off her shoulders, ignoring the tender way in which his fingers brushed against the nape of her neck, so warm, so familiar, so comforting.

She marched into the den instead, away from him, away from his eyes, away from his knowing. But of course he followed, he always followed, and a big, heavy, comforting black blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, a purple bat stamped on the back. Her blanket. Because he’d made one for her. For all of them. His past Robins, Batgirls, his children who had found such comfort in curling under his cape that he had made them blankets of it.

“Is everything alright Stephanie?” He asked gently. Steph shook her head, sinking onto the couch. She knew he wanted to push. It was just how Bruce functioned. But he held back, nodded. Brought her a plate of food, a glass of water, and let her sit. Quiet.

Steph nibbled at the warm cookies, freshly baked, and watched the door. He didn’t come, not for a while, long enough that Steph stood, muttering about using the bathroom to Bruce, who only nodded and returned to his book.

She headed up the stairs, stumbling into the annoyingly lavish bathroom, and leaned against the sink. She wasn't feeling nauseous, thank Diana, but she still felt unsteady.

“Steph?” A knock on the door. Steph breathed shakily, realizing belatedly that her eyes were stinging with tears. “Steph?” Jason knocked again, more insistent. “I saw you go in there Brown. You good?” He sounded so worried. So… so much like he cared about her. He did, of course. She knew that.

“No.” she choked out, and it was all he needed, picking the lock and opening the door.

“Steph…” he breathed, closing the door behind her. “What do you need?” Straight to the point. She appreciated it. No questions she didn't want to answer. No useless comforting words that didn't help.

“A hug.” She gasped out, and Jason moved, enveloping her in his arms, cradling her as they sank to the floor, Jason’s back thumping against the door.

It wasn’t until she spotted the wet spots on his jacket that Steph realized she was crying. She hadn't cried. Not when the pregnancy test had come out. Not when nausea had crippled her to bed for three days, not when Bruce had been so gentle.

But now… hot, fat tears streamed down her cheeks, and Jason didn't comment, holding her close, his arms warm and strong and protective, blocking her from the world, from words, from things she didn't want to talk about, from herself.

She didn't know how long they sat there, Jason rubbing soothing circles on her back, but at some point Bruce had come up, knocked, asked quietly if she was okay. Jason had answered and he had left again.

Steph hiccuped, tears finally empty. “I got you.” Jason murmured, lifting her without strain, setting her on the counter and grabbed some towels, wiping her cheeks free, and handing her a few tissues.

“Steph?” Bruce’s voice. Outside the door. So he hadn't left entirely. “Tim is here.” Steph nodded, and Jason called out a thank you to him.

“You okay? What’s Timmy done?” Jason asked, hands resting on either side of her legs as he looked up at her face.

Steph shook her head. “Nothing I didn't want.” She mumbled. Jason raised an eyebrow and she realized how bad the words sounded. She let out a slight hiccupy laugh, shaking her head. “I’m pregnant.” The words blurted out before Steph could reconsider, and Jason stared at her, mouth actually dropping. She laughed again, shaking her head as she used the tissues to wipe at her eyes.

“You're- so- this. Tim-” Jason stumbled backwards, grabbing his head. He shook himself, pulling himself together, most endearingly. “So um,” He gestured to her, to the mound of tissues, to the tear stains on his jacket. “Were these uh, happy tears or…?”

Steph shrugged. “I don't. Know. Emotions?” She guessed and Jason nodded.

“Okay. You’re telling Tim?” She nodded. “How long have you known?”

Steph twisted the towel in her hands, looking away. “I took a pregnancy test a few weeks ago. I got sick last week. I wasn't sure, but um… for about a week now?” She didn’t specify “a few” meant six.

But Jason undoubtedly knew she wasn't telling the full truth. Honesty, but withholding information was basically the family's motto. Bruce was lucky they were at least all honest. Not fully, but honest nonetheless.

Jason helped her off the sink, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear and helping to wipe away the last few residues of crying. “You good?” He asked quietly, and Steph almost laughed. His resemblance to Bruce was almost scary.

“I'm good. Gotta get it over with.” She shrugged, reaching for the doorhandle, but Jason caught her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“You know that no matter what Timmy says, you’ve got a home here. With us. B won’t let you leave once he learns he’s a grandfather.” He pulled back, looking her in the eyes. “And you’ll always have a place in my apartment. You know that yeah?”

Steph nodded, pushing his shoulder. “You’ll make me cry again you jerk.” Jason laughed, opening the door.

“Good. Now, I feel a little bad, so just know that Tim won’t deny you. He’s not like that. I promise. And if he is…” Steph snorted, leaving the bathroom and heading down the stairs.

“I know. I know. Thanks Jason.” He stayed at the top of the stairs, saluting.

“Of course. Dead Robins gotta stay together y'know?” He smirked, smile turning softer. “Need me?”

Steph shook her head. “No. Thanks. I've got to do this alone.” Jason nodded.

“I know he’s my brother, but you’re my sister too, Steph. I’ll beat him up.” Steph laughed, waving over her shoulder.

“Bye Jason.” He sighed, but let her leave.

Tim was in the den, waiting for her, if his nervous tapping was any indication. He looked up the second she walked in, eyes scanning her carefully as he walked over, hands automatically settling on her arms.

“Hey, you okay? You've been crying.” His eyes were worried, hands careful as he tugged her to the couch. Bruce nodded to them and stood, giving them privacy.

“I’m… fine.” Steph murmured, sinking onto the couch next to him, folding her legs under her body as she tugged Bruce’s blanket to her.

Tim was watching her, leg bouncing. “You’re scaring me Steph. What's up?” Steph sighed, fiddling with the blanket on her shoulders.

“I’ve uh, been sick recently. Nauseous and um, I’ve been craving these awful pickle hotdogs.” Tim wrinkled his nose, but she could tell his mind was whirring, cycling through why she thought this was relevant information to share.

As much as she liked to talk, most of it had a purpose, and he had been one of the first few people to notice it. “Pickle hotdogs again?” He murmured, slight teasing in his tone. “You haven't wanted those since-”

Steph saw the exact moment he realized what she meant. His gaze darted up, scanning her again, as if she’d already be showing.

“You- you’re pregnant.” It wasn’t a question, but a carefully stated fact. Steph nodded, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t withdraw, and he didn't yell, but he didn't react positively either. In fact, he didn't react at all.

“Okay.” Tim said softly. “You’re pregnant. Still in the first trimester, so you have time. Bruce has money, I have money, hell we could even do it in the cave here if you want, Alfred knows how, I think, he was a doctor, and of course we have enough medicine to keep you unconscious and free of pain, you won't feel a thing-”

“Tim, what are you talking about?” Steph interrupted his fast paced ramble, and he paused, looking up at her.

“What?” Steph’s arms curled around her waist.

“I want to keep it.”

And she knew it was true. Before, abortion hadn't been an option. Not just because there would have been no one who could have provided it for her, but also because it had been too late when she’d discovered it, and much too late when she had a discussion with herself on whether or not she wanted to keep it. It hadn't mattered what she wanted, anyway. She wouldn't have been given one.

But this time… this time she had a choice. This time she was older, this time she could handle a child. This time she wanted a child. And Tim… Tim was the father. She wanted him to be the father. But if he didn't want to- Steph looked at him, but Tim’s eyes were glowing.

“You want to keep it?” He breathed. Steph nodded slowly, unsure. Before she could ask what he wanted, she was pressed into the couch, Tim’s arms wrapped around her in a tackle hug.

“I love you I love you I love you I love you.”

Tim chanted into her neck, arms squeezing tighter, and Steph laughed, lifting his head between her hands. “You.. you want to have a kid?”

Tim’s smile was blinding. “Are you kidding? With you? Yes. I- I always wanted kids.” He admitted quietly. “When I became Robin, and then Red Robin, it… the dream became just that. A dream. But then I met you, and you were pregnant, and then we dated, and now…” He sighed. “I thought you’d never want kids after what happened. And i was fine with it. I am fine with it. But if you want it. If you are… then yes. Yes.”

Steph leaned up and kissed him, and his hands dug into her sides, kissing back like he’d never stop, like he’d never let go, like he’d never leave her. Steph knew he wouldn't.

“You are the father, by the way.” She murmured a half hour later, Tim’s head on her chest, his hand drawing lazy circles on her stomach as her hands glided through his hair. “Just in case you wanted it from me. We can do a blood test, of course, I know you’ll want that. But you are. Its only you. Its only ever going to be you.”

Tim propped himself up on his elbow, leaning down to kiss her again. “Its only you for me too Steph. Spoiler and Robin. Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown. The dead robins. Forever.” Steph smiled, running her hands through his chest.

“That sounds pretty perfect Wonder Boy.” Tim grinned, hand tightening on her hip. “Perfect.” Steph laughed, and they sat up together, slowly, leaning against each other.

“Two imperfect people. How perfect.” Tim laughed, and Steph couldn’t help it. She kissed him again. 

[zylphiacrowley]

Walk through the world with care, my love And sing the things you see Let new names take and root and thrive and grow And even as you stumble through machair sands eroding Let the fern unfurl your grieving, let the heron still your breathing Let the selkies swim you deeper Oh, my little silver seeker Even as the hour grows bleaker, be the singer and the speaker And in city and in forest, let the larks become your chorus And when every hope is gone Let the raven call you home

[geekynichelle]

Current author drama aside, to be honest, I'm giving Greek Myth retelling's a break. However, if someone wants to recommend something not written by a racist or fake feminist, and that includes any of the following, I'd be open to it:

-Good Ares and Aphrodite rep.

-Dionysus and/or Ariadne content

-Odyssey related shenanigans

[cobaltpegasi]

i’m on trial, waiting ’til the beat comes out.

edelgard & florence + the machine (which witch) graphics for @seiliecourt’s prompts

interact and credit to use! shuffle a playlist of yours and make an edit of the song that comes up

[sunmisbf]

not chungha inviting stupid ass rape apologist hyuna on her radio show

[sciderman]

Sci do you listen to Chappell Roan

in all honestly i haven't listened to anything released in the last decade (sorry) but she seems nice. i like her aesthetic.

[jackalopedaily]

JACKALOPE DAILY DAY 307

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by the gorgeous and fabulous @cordiallyfuturedwight and @aprylynn for february's roundup:

tagging the usual music favs: @jiminsproof @thvinyl @jimin-gaon @visionsofgideontheninth @spicyclematis @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @monismochi plus @kimtaegis for the amy macdonald of it all 💜 and also you, dear reader. MWAH

[chevalierlagarce]

I'm know this sound hypocritical coming from me considering most of the stuff on my blog but I'm sure that both Ethel Cain and Fiona Apple hate a good chunk (wouldn't say the majority of their fandom but a significant and very loud part) of their fandom... So many of us behave in a way that Ethel Cain and Fiona apple have criticized and I feel kinda bad for them

like I don't think that Hayden is going "I love the way my fans are talking about dating older men and romanticizing their 3ds and other mental illnesses" lol (not a problem for me because I'm aroace but I do be romanticizing going to the great dark) and I don't think Fiona Apple is a big fan of the "I'm just a girl" thing that a weird amount of her new fans have been doing (and neither am I even if I do indulge in it)

I wonder how a part of their fandom can be so different from them and the views they hold and I think that this can be traced to how that part of the fandom tend to aestheticize their music and very rarely interact with their lyrics and interviews and what not.

once again I know how hypocritical this is coming from a blog that is mostly about my disordered eating but whatever

[asurrogateblog]

do you love early era pink floyd? do you love songs over 15 minutes long with multiple movements? do you love disturbing abstract poetic lyrics? do you love organ-centric psychedelia? do you love freak outs and happenings? do you love to writhe on the floor? then I suggest to you:

[hwangism143]

nobody:

absolutely nobody:

fanfic writers: *gearing up to dissect taylor swift's album as soon as it releases and use the most gut-wrenching, heart-breaking lyrics as inspiration for werewolf smut*

[faunandfloraas]

I was tagged by @haenglixie @crmsndragonwngss @chanrizard to post the first ten songs in my On Repeat playlist / my monthly receiptify / 10 songs from my on repeat playlist shuffled - thank you for the tags my loves!

1- chemicals collide - cloud cult 2. Destiny - Seungmin 3. Ring of Fire - June Carter Cash 4. Wonderous place - Drug Store Romeos 5. FNF by skz 6. Question - the old 97s 7. Scars - skz 8. Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond Of Each Other - Orville Peck and Willie Nelson 9. Run - HAN 10. Easy Living - Billie Holiday

I tag anyone who has a spotify and would like to do any of these!

[pyjamaart]

Love in the Crossfire!

[nubs-mbee]

Hoziers Psychopomp really gets me, cause it’s about a memory he had as a kid where he saw an animal get hit by a car, and a person nearby who had witnessed it ran over to comfort the animal as it passed away. Obviously there’s a lot more going on in the song beside that, but it reminds me of when I was a kid and had a very similar experience. Except there was no other person, and it was me running over to comfort the animal and giving them some of my lunch. Anyway what really gets me is how the car didn’t even slow down, just kept speeding off and out of our neighborhood. And then THAT reminds me of that childrens book where a boy writes poems about his dog? And how a car came speeding past his house and hit his dog and didn’t even slow down. Just killed his dog right in front of him. Anyway it’s crazy how someone can change your life like that without even giving it a second thought.

[villain-in-love]

I think it's a good time for a small introduction on my Pandora Hearts s/i.

This is Katharine Mortifera, Pandora's head investigator and Jane Ledford's personal valet.

Mortifera puts her curiosity and thirst for knowledge above everything else, which, combined with her outstanding analytical skills, makes her a very effective detective. Unfortunately, her opportunistic nature and disregard for any sort of morality or law often gets her in trouble.

The only reason this woman is still not in jail is because Pandora can’t find another investigator of her level that would agree to the kind of dangerous job that entails working with the Abyss and illegal chain contractors. And Mortifera is just the right kind of unhinged to enjoy such job without demanding unreasonably high remunerations.

Fun fact: she hates being seen without her sunglasses, so she wears them even indoors. Touch them and you will die. This shit is DESIGNER and were custom-made specially for her. The glass is also optical because Mortifera is a little short-sighted.

Music:

6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro / Con) by Will Wood and the Tapeworms

Crazy = Genius by Panic! At The Disco

Scary Mask by Poppy ft. FEVER 333

The Mephistopheles Of Los Angeles by Marilyn Manson