#i've got a headache

[memes-saved-me]

Not the open window at the end

[schizo2709]

So, in light of the last JK gifset I reblogged, I recapitulate: Yesterday he was live AGAIN, like, is he that bored or what I thought when I got the notif. Live every other day...huh. I didn’t watch and it’s now deleted. Why? Who knows. For one, he wasn’t entirely sober (again). Not a problem because he’d fun singing Justin Bieber songs? Oof...sorry, I know, one of his idols. And listened to popular Indian songs which got Indian ARMY excited on my timeline.

But then he proceeded talking about stalking, stalker fans, and...oof...I’m human, too. His words! And to please respect his privacy and not follow him when he’s out in private, which happened again very recently when he went home from the gym.

Said he wouldn’t have said any of this while sober...

And then he FELL ASLEEP while the live was still ON! I don’t know how or who ended the live eventually but he just fell asleep and...started snoring...and a candle was still burning which had ARMY freaking out...understandably...

How am I going to tag this so it doesn’t show up in the tags? I’m not sure if this ‘only the first 5 tags count’ still works?

EDIT: He posted this morning! He’s okay...hopefully...

[bleaksqueak]

Who knows!

Read today's page.

Read from the start

Support artists and the production of this comic

[relicsongmel]

Something I've always found fascinating about Raymond Shields is that despite seemingly having altruistic reasons for being a defense attorney, his reasons for trying to convince Miles to be one are anything but.

It seems understandable enough on the surface. After Ray comes around and agrees to work with Miles in The Imprisoned Turnabout, he sees remnants of Gregory shining through him despite von Karma's influence. Whether or not he recognizes that Miles' decision to become a prosecutor wasn't just born from that alone—that it was in tandem with wanting to distance himself from anything that reminded him of his father to alleviate the burden on his heart—is up for debate, but regardless: he acknowledges Miles as Gregory's son through and through and wants to capitalize on his dedication for pursuing justice in a way that he knows would make his father proud. He wants to let Miles in on the life he was robbed of at 9 years old—the life he once dreamed of living, where he follows in the footsteps of his father by giving everything he has to save people, by fighting like hell for the vulnerable and the condemned.

That said, as much as Ray dresses up his proposition by making it out to be as if he's looking out for Miles' best interests (and the best interests of society, even)...his motives for trying to get Miles to switch sides are almost entirely selfish. Ray's efforts (and most of his actions in general, really) are ultimately a product of his desperate attempt to cling on to anything related to Gregory out of an inability to move on from his death. Wearing his hat and coat, leaving the name of his office unchanged...and now, requesting that his son literally change jobs just because he can't bear the weight of his own loneliness anymore. Because he can't bear to think that the damage done by DL-6 is irreversible and Miles has moved on while he has stagnated for the past 17 years. Because he has an idealized vision of what he thinks Gregory would want and fails to realize that his son's occupation wouldn't matter to him as long as it brings him happiness and fulfillment. In his mind, letting Miles go means accepting the circumstances that brought him where he is and allowing both of them to move on. And that terrifies him.

It's even more deceitful when you realize that Ray's pitch comes at a very opportune time for Miles given his circumstances at that point: that is, he's under threat of investigation for prosecutorial misconduct and at risk of being stripped of his badge. Ray might fake incompetence, but he's not stupid—and he takes full advantage of Justine's warnings to try to sway Miles when he's in a more vulnerable position in terms of his job. Which is...pretty fucked up, to put it lightly. Despite having a better idea of where he came from compared to most people, through this Ray shows a lack of understanding of who Miles truly is and a lack of respect for what he's come to value, even if his path toward obtaining those values had some bumps along the road. But he's so blinded by his grief that he doesn't even stop to consider how much he's really asking of him, or what Miles is really searching for.

Ray was moved by Gregory. He values saving people. Defending the weak is an undeniably noble endeavor. But to ask that of someone else without consideration for their best interests is decidedly less so.

For all his occupation requires a certain selflessness, Raymond Shields is far more selfish than he lets on. And I for one find that contradiction fascinating to unpack.

[nocreativityfornames]

You know what's one very obvious/simple plot I'd like to see turned into an Obey Me! event? MC getting sick. Like, I know we've seen this exact trope many many times before since the fandom has written about it multiple times but hear me out:

What's the plot of a majority of Obey Me! events? The brothers messed something up/got into a troublesome situation and MC spends the entire event running around trying to help them.

And you know who's never been on the center of an event? MC. Sure, we're literally the main character and we're there 100% of the time, but like I said before, the focus is always on the other characters and us helping THEM with shit.

Also, I think we've just got done with the "x character focused" events with Lucifer being on the spotlights of the last one. So what's a better time for it to happen? Like, we NEED an event centered around MC and the brothers being the ones to reach out/help them through it.

And what exact trope has never been done in Obey Me? MC getting sick. Like, it's the perfect plot: MC comes down with a fever or something, and through the entire event, the brothers are taking care of them and nursing them back to health.

Like, I just wanna see boys taking care of us in canon. I wanna see Lucifer scolding us for being stubborn and not taking care of ourselves while feeding us some soup. I wanna see Mammon being the tsundere idiot he is and doing the tiniest things to help us while simultaneously grumbling about how he isn't worried about us or anything like that. I wanna see Levi bringing our favorite games to our room so we can play together since Lucifer ordered us to not get out of bed. I want Satan to read us a book to help us fall asleep, I want Asmo to come to do our nails, prepare us the best baths, and talk about whatever juicy scandals we've been missing recently by not going to RAD. I want the twins to be so soft and careful with us because they're worried sick and want us to get better as soon as possible. I want all the side characters to visit us and bring us little gifts and sweets to make us feel better.

Please, devs, give us a Sick!MC event! I promise we'll cherish with all our hearts and will go back to it every time we get sick just to feel comforted by our favorite boys. 😭

[lovesickgoose]

Bottom text

[archangeldyke-all]

could you do reader taking care of sevika when she's on her period? i bet she would try to be so tough about it but i would just wanna baby her ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh <33 thank u

poor baby sevika :(( it's crazy, u guys always send me period asks when i'm on mine!

men and minors dni

when you first get together, sevika never talks about her period.

she just grits her teeth and bears it, ignoring the aching in her abdomen and lower back, the headaches that plague her for a week, her rapidly changing emotions and cravings.

she doesn't even tell you, only letting on when you're trying to get in her pants, pushing you away with a smirk and a "sorry babe, it's my time of the month."

you gawk at her. she blinks. "wh-- sev, you're on your period?" you ask. sevika nods. "but i just made you build a bookshelf!" you say. sevika blinks again.

"...so?" she asks. you huff.

"so! so you should be relaxing! i should be pampering you! what are you doing? go get in bed!" you demand. sevika chuckles and kisses your forehead.

"you're cute." she says.

she doesn't let you pamper her. she doesn't even let you give her a lower back massage. she insists she's fine-- she's had hundreds of periods in her lifetime, and she's survived all of them. she doesn't need to be pampered.

but you don't give up. you put it in your calendar, tracking it to the best of your ability so that when the next month rolls around, you're ready.

you start subtly. you know that it takes time for sevika to warm up to affection and care, and you're willing to give her all the time in the world. that doesn't mean you'll stop trying, though.

the next month, you're sure to keep her properly medicated. in the morning, you hand her two painkillers before she leaves from work. she frowns at them..

"what're these?" she asks. you shrug.

"for your cramps." you say simply. sevika blinks.

"...how'd you know?" she asks. you shrug.

"i didn't... just a lucky guess."

"you've been tracking my cycle?" she asks with a disbeliving look. you giggle and kiss her cheek.

"well, duh. gotta take care of you." you say.

she takes the pills and storms out of the apartment. (she only storms because she's flustered. when the door slams behind her, sevika struggles to keep a smile from growing on her lips at your consideration."

this becomes a habit. you force feed her two painkillers in the morning, two when she gets home, and two before bed. she always rolls her eyes. (but inside, she's squealing like a little girl and jumping up and down.)

she doesn't admit it to you, but her cramps are nearly unnoticeable once you come into her life.

the next month, you kick it up a notch.

as she's laying in bed, waiting for you to join her so you can sleep, you run to the kitchen to throw a heating pad in the microwave. sevika doesn't suspect a thing until you come sauntering into the bedroom with the pad behind your back and a smirk on your face.

"what?" she asks with a glare, knowing you're up to no good. you laugh as you crawl in bed beside her, sneakily sliding the heating pad over her lower stomach beneath the covers. she jumps, then sighs, melting into the sheets below her. you smile and kiss her forehead.

"feel good?" you ask. sevika hums.

"yeah." she admits. you grin, and then kiss her again, before flicking the lamp off and pulling her against you.

you add the nightly heat pad to your little pampering routine.

the next month, you start figuring out sevika's cravings. now that you're living together, you get a good look into her eating habits and routines. you notice a few days before she's due for her first day of her period, that she's been reaching for sour candies and spicy chips more and more frequently.

so, on your walk home the next day, you stop at a convenience store to pick up a family sized bag of hot fries and several sour candies. you don't make a big deal about it, knowing sevika will try to deny the kindness, you just store the snacks in the cupboards and leave them there for her to find.

the next month, she finally asks you for a little back massage, admitting to you that it's been killing her this month.

you agree eagerly, straddling her legs and gently working some lavender oil into her lower back, becoming nearly as relaxed as sevika is beneath you as you watch the tension in her body melt away.

she ends up falling asleep beneath you, so you decide to give her a lower back massage each night before you place her hot pad on her skin. she's always out like a light by the time you're done, snoring and drooling into her pillow. she's adorable.

sevika stops smacking you away when you sneak your hands under her shirt to let the heat of your hands soothe her bloated lower stomach. instead, she starts leaning against your chest, sighing and grabbing your wrist in thanks.

she starts talking to you more, letting her complaints out to you. she'll come home pouting and complaining of a headache, and you'll pout right back at her, before giving her a gentle neck massage and pulling her onto your tits for a nap.

sometimes, she'll break out on her period, and she admits to you that it bothers her. so you gently paint her face with your favorite hormonal acne mud mask and put her in the bath, handing her a tall glass of whiskey and kissing her sweetly before letting her relax in the candle lit bathroom.

eventually, you guys end up syncing your cycles. you take turns taking care of each other, sevika handing you pills while you hand her a bowl of chips, wrestling to be the first to give the other a lower back massage, soaking in the bath together. sevika doesn't hide her pain and discomfort from you anymore, knowing that you won't think she's any weaker for it, knowing that you'll do anything you can to help relieve her of it.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

[wowa-bublord]

my dad is home from the hospital!!!! I'm so happy!!!!! we aren't nearly out of the woods yet but the surgery went amazing and he's healing really well. :,)!!!

[definegodliness]

3 hours of hyperfocus later... 😅

[mysteryboy1249]

Finally went and watched Zero Tea Time and like, how is this man still functioning at all??? If we're to assume that Furuya sleeps about 2 hours a night regularly, I'm sorry but this man would in no way shape or form be able to do what he does. - Sincerely, someone who has legitimately slept 3AM to 5AM regularly for several months due to having pre-existing sleep issues and a job that started at an ungodly time.

Like, yes I get that I shouldn't be thinking too deeply since anime logic, but also on this same schedule I felt like I was about to die by week 3 and was essentially a human zombie with my mental health down the sink by week 6(and technically I was sleeping more than 2 hours since I would take some naps as well) so I have some strong feelings about this. Hell, there's no way this man would be able to keep track of what time it is let alone all his jobs and secrets with that amount of sleep. Even if we go under the assumption that he sleeps 3-4 or even 4-5 hours usually and the 2 hours was a special case this man would still not be able to make all those deductions and chase all those criminals. Sure you won't feel as shit, but you definitely will still be feeling quite shit.

No wonder this man depressed and insane with a sprinkling of anger issues and seems to be constantly lowkey disassociating in Zero Tea Time. Yes most of it is because he's the only one left and is horribly traumatized but also like Furuya, have you considered taking a nap? It doesn't solve the trauma, but give yourself 8-10 hours of proper sleep and you'll be waking up ready to take on god.

As a side note, are there fics where Furuya is severely sleep deprived and how that impacts him? Because so far I haven't seen any but I also don't usually go out of my way to find Furuya centered fics. Because if there isn't I'll write one myself, not enough chronic sleep deprivation rep round here in general. Mans mother hens everyone around him, he deserves someone to mother hen him back to force him to sleep because the world will not in fact end if he takes some time off.

[hood-ex]

The desire to have a No Capes AU where the Titans crew go to a boarding school and sneak out at night to read poetry in a cave...

[bleaksqueak]

Did you know that Procreate doesn't have a lot of the standard filter/effects tools that Photoshop and Clip Studio have? For the most part I'm A-OK fine living without those, but the one that boggles my mind is that Procreate doesn't have a stroke feature. I bring this up because I use stroke a lot for subtle things, and I use it a lot for graphic things (like comic binding boxes, lettering, etc.)... and, for the current illustration, I used it for almost the entire background. So do you want to know the stupid way to simulate the stroke effect in Procreate? SURE YOU DO. You have to duplicate the item, or lines, you want to have a stroke effect on... You then move it below your object/lines, gausian blur the duplicate beneath to 2 - 3%, then keep duplicating that blurred copy and merging it with itself until the extra selection of pixels created by the blur are, once more, solid. It's a lot of duplicating and merging. PROCREATE, PLEASE, THIS IS YOUR ONLY TRUE FLAW. Please add a stroke tool my family is starving.

[allastoredeer]

Do you have an idea of when you might release the next part of just kiss already? I don't want to rush you or anything, I'm just curious

I was hoping to get it finished and posted this weekend, but it's getting longer than I anticipated, so my new goal is to have it finished and posted by next weekend.

I have been rewriting the first three fics in between writing this one, and I actually just posted the revised version of "De-Lovely" this morning ^.^ (shoutout to halleyshiro! Thanks for beta'ing for me! You're amazing 😍)

The story is ultimately the same, nothing MASSIVE was changed. I just went a little deeper in description and hashed out more of Lucifer's thoughts and feelings. I think it flows a LOT better now and I'm very happy with how it turned out. You don't have to reread it to understand the rest of the series, but there's a few more goodies added to it if you're looking for anything new, so its there if you want it 😊

Crossing my fingers that this next fic won't take much longer LOL I'm very excited to post it. I'm having a lot of fun with Alastor and Lucifer's dynamic.

[girlfriendline]

a story in four parts (aka: that one time the smelling salts were a little too powerful)

[doctorbrown]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 13 / 31 * CAMPFIRE 」

September 6, 1885

Purple really was a beautiful colour.

Turning the brooch over in his hands, he’s struck by the simple elegance of the vibrant flowers, their pop of life and colour against the gloomy, dust filled California night. Emmett had never given it much consideration before—purple was a fine colour; one he had no real opinion of—at least not until Clara gave him a new appreciation for it.

Even the fire looks dull by comparison, unable to match the splendour of the flowers in his hand no matter how it dances in the darkness.

Clara. He runs his thumb over her name embossed in the metal, thankful that Marty was asleep and entirely oblivious to his emotional turmoil. Emmett frowns, looping his earlier discussion with Marty in his head, unable to quiet either side of this heated debate.

His head screams be scientific about this. His conscience, borrowing his young friend’s voice in order to tip the scales back in the favour of logic and reasoning, throws the weight of the universe at him—you are singularly responsible for the fate of the timeline now. You have chosen to circumvent the boundaries set for mortals and tread where no man has before, stomping across realms that fall solely within the purview of the Gods, and now you must suffer the consequences for your actions.

Such dangerous knowledge could only come with personal sacrifice. Perhaps that was why it took three decades’ worth of dogged resolution and pertinacious research in order to accomplish it—some things were not meant to be touched by man.

He cannot stay in 1885 any more than Marty can, not without serious repercussions to the timeline. Their actions have already left indelible scars on history as they know it; they’ve introduced an entirely new, unknown variable to the timeline by inadvertently preventing Clara’s death, and while Marty had managed to somewhat convince him that renaming an entire ravine wasn’t the most universe-shattering thing that could have happened, they’d never done something like this.

This would be an entirely new future shaped by countless unforeseen aberrations from their original timeline.

His heart, however, steals his voice, advocating for selfishness in spite of the timeline. Marty had already done just that, inadvertently altered the timeline, and nothing unravelled because of it. He and Marty still became friends, he finished the Time Machine precisely on-time, prevented his own death…

He knew the future—that very knowledge alone should allow him to avoid causing any major changes to the timeline. This time, he could prevent his death, he could send Marty home, he could live out his final years with the woman who fit perfectly into that hole in his heart and made him whole.

Just thinking about her makes Emmett’s heart swell. Just like these flowers, she is beautiful—a vision, and Emmett wonders, privately, when his heart pulls him away from all reason and sense, how such a woman could’ve been bestowed with such a tragic fate—able to make him feel as awkward as a schoolboy in front of the object of his affection with little more than a smile.

Emmett sighs, staring into the fire. No, no he can’t do that—to allow himself this comfort while denying and cautioning Marty against this very thing would be grossly hypocritical of him, not to mention highly irresponsible.

There will never be another woman like her in all of time and Emmett isn’t lost to the heart-wrenchingly cruel irony that is that the one woman that makes him almost willing to believe in the foolish, unscientifically romantic notion of soulmates just so happened to be a woman who no more belonged in today than he did.

Marty’s voice inevitably wins out and Emmett turns the flowers over in his hand one last time, searching for some yet undiscovered third option that will satisfy everybody. He’s right, as much as it rips his still-beating heart from his chest to admit. There’s only one acceptable course of action available to them now and though it is a small, almost negligible comfort, at least Clara will live out a full life.

And the moment they get back, he will destroy the blasted Time Machine and everything related to it to avoid any temptation of returning to the past.

It’s for the best.

If only he believed that.

Emmett stands, delicately slipping Clara’s brooch into his pocket while his heart drops like a stone into his stomach.

The campfire pops three times as he saddles up Archimedes, shooting embers into the air, and were he a superstitious man, he may have considered that an ill omen.