#i guess i just need some comfort

[pikatik]

Would you want to see animal crossing art from me???

I think I'm getting hyperfixated on animal crossing somehow, I wanna doodle some villagers!!

And maybe humanizations, I bet it's so interesting to try to go for different shapes for the characters!!!

[a-leg-without-fear]

Fucked Up Leg

Wanted to throw my hat in the proverbial ring and try out writing about St. Matthew Murdock. This fic is a little dark as it deals with what I go through with my chronic pain. This is why I am Leg and leg is Me.

Ship: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 1,733

Warnings: cursing, depressive thoughts, talk of doctor visits, talk of dealing with medical issues, an extremely comforting and loving matt murdock

It was half past 9pm when your leg started aching. You sat on the leather couch with a book in your hands and a blanket over your lap. The billboard across the street shined blinding yellows and blues in through the windows, shadows chasing each other along the edges of your vision. The scent of the dinner you’d shared with Matt, fettuccine alfredo with roasted chicken, floated through the air and settled around you. You could hear commotion in the apartment below you. You assumed there were some new neighbors moving in with how much foot traffic there was, but you weren’t quite sure. You, of course, didn’t have Matt’s senses. 

At first, the pain was just a slight twinge, a dull ache. A deep rooted uncomfortableness that seeped from your hip socket and spread throughout your upper thigh. Knowing this was only the start of a quickly worsening night, you retreated to your and Matt's bedroom in an attempt to keep weight off your leg.

Matt was out on his nightly patrols. He had left at around 8, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead and promising to be back before 2am. At the time, the firm deadline appeared a blessing. Usually you would be left in the dark as to how late Matt would be out. Hearing him give you a set time made you breathe a sigh of relief. Now, however, you thought of how far away that curfew seemed as you settled into your shared bed, bracing for the pain to get worse.

You laid on your right side, gingerly placing a thin pillow between your thighs. The little bit of separation between your legs tended to help relieve some of the pressure on your hip socket. You let your knees bend naturally as you tried to get comfortable. The lights from the billboard were less bright in the bedroom. Partially due to the angle of the beacon in the night, but also due to the paper you’d taped to the windows in an attempt to block out any and all light. You could feel the silk sheets slide against your bare legs as your shorts hiked up beneath the covers. You plugged your phone into your, thankfully, long cord that stretched long enough for you to use it on your side. 

You faced the bedroom door, the right side of the bed empty. Not intentionally, as you’d keep off your left leg anyway, but because Matt would lay on the side of the bed between you and any danger. He was sweet like that, always putting himself in harm’s way for you and others. You chuckled to yourself as you began scrolling aimlessly through your phone. You knew for a fact that if Matt could take your reoccurring pain and put it in his leg to give you relief, he would. He would in a heartbeat. Sacrifice his own fighting ability to give you a chance of being able to dance again.

God, you missed dancing. You used to go to dance classes every week, sometimes multiple nights in a row. Letting yourself flow to the music as you followed choreography, bouncing from foot to foot, swaying your hips, laughing when you would mess up. For years that’s how you kept active, kept busy, kept happy.

Until your leg decided to say “fuck you,” that is. The doctors assumed it was “just too much dancing” that did your leg in. What started as a tear in the cartilage in your hip joint spread throughout your thigh as other problems arose. Stress fracture in your femur, a worn ACL, torn muscles under your kneecap. A seemingly never ending list of problems made you debilitated, forcing you to use a cane and, in extreme circumstances, a wheelchair. The doctors tried physical therapy, medication, and even surgery. But the problems kept reappearing. You would have fine mobility and limited aches for a good few months, maybe even a year. But sooner or later that dull ache would find itself rooted in your hip. And you’d just have to strap in for a long ride.

About 10 minutes after you’d laid down the pain got worse. The ache turned into a sharp jab, like someone had stabbed you in the hip and kept the knife there, sliding and slicing to create waves of pain that lasted for minutes at a time. You clenched your jaw as you tried to remain focused on your phone. This wasn’t anything you hadn’t been through before. You could handle this. Of course it felt like a hot poker was stuck in your hip socket, but that was just a regular Tuesday for you.

Then the muscle above your knee twinged. A redhot spark of pain you could feel in your teeth. The pulsing shocks permeated throughout your entire leg, not just your knee. Stacked with the ache in your thigh it was beginning to be unbearable. 

Your phone fell from your hands as your eyes squeezed shut. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shuddering and wincing. Nausea began to build in your stomach and your head began to spin. The muscles beneath your skin started to jump and twitch. You blew a sharp gust of air out of your nose.

“Fuck me,” you whispered. Why? Why, when things are going great, your leg practically lights itself on fire? Just last week you’d helped Matt take out a handful of bank robbers, dodging blows and landing punches like Black Widow herself. Matt had even been impressed at how well you maneuvered yourself. You kicked and squatted and jumped like there was no tomorrow. And not a muscle was out of place the next morning.

Laying in bed, arms wrapped around your trembling body, leg having a tantrum. All you could do was resign yourself to this neverending feeling of hopelessness. Will it ever get better? Is there some magical cure you just haven’t found yet? What are you doing wrong? You could feel yourself spiral in your depression, the minutes and hours blending together to become an ongoing existence of pain. It felt like a rock had sunk itself to the bottom of your stomach. Your heart was racing, anxiety coursing through your veins. Was this what would become of your life? You would be reduced to nothing, just a leg on fire attached to a motionless husk? Would you ever be able to dance again?

“Sweetheart?” a voice rang out from the living room. A familiar, tentative tone laced with concern. Your eyes snapped open to see Matt. Standing just beyond the doorway, all dressed in black, cloth mask in hand, chocolate eyes looking in your general direction. His dark hair was matted to his forehead from the exertion of his nightly outings.

You cleared the edge of pain from your throat, then said, “Yeah?”

Matt was kneeling in front of you on the bed before you could blink. His brow was so tightly furrowed you had the briefest thought it’d stay that way. Warm, large hands began flitting across your body.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Was someone here?” he asked in a flurry of questions. One of his hands landed on your jaw, fingers trailing across where your pulse flowed strongest. The other ended up tangled with your own as you tried to quiet him.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m okay,” you breathed. You brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his bruised knuckles. Matt’s fingers held your hand tighter as he let his eyes fall closed, his breathing slowing. You knew this was what he did when he sent his senses out, listening and smelling and tasting and feeling your body better than you could. His awareness diving deep beneath your skin to seek out anything abnormal.

When his eyes fluttered open, his gaze landed on your chin and a frown settled across his lips.

“It’s your leg again, isn’t it,” Matt said, not posing the phrase as a question. He already knew the answer.

All you could do was nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You could feel the grief of decades of pain and sorrow build along the walls of your throat. Your breathing grew ragged as the tears broke free and slid their way down your flushed cheeks. What if he grew tired of you? Grew tired of constantly needing to take care of you, tired of dealing with the bursts of pain you needlessly endured. A man of his skill, his charisma, his fighting ability. Surely he wouldn’t want to stay with someone as encumbered as you.

No further words were exchanged between the two of you. Matt gingerly slid his arm beneath your head, letting you cuddle against his chest, as his other arm pulled your torso close to him. His body curled around yours, as if the pain you were feeling was an outside source and he was the shield that protected you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and breathed his comforting scent, cinnamon and smoke, in. Hot tears trailed their way from your eyes and stained his shirt.

“I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, lips pressed to the shell of your ear, saying exactly what you needed to hear as if he knew. He slid one of his legs between your thighs, replacing the pillow that was there originally. At first the movement was a shock to your already agonized body. Then, the extra bit of space between your legs lifted some of the pressure on your hip joint. You sighed shakily against Matt’s neck.

The two of you remained that way, Matt’s leg between your thighs, his arm beneath your head, your face tucked against his neck, his free hand rubbing soothing circles into your side. He whispered sweet words of reassurance every now and then. Saying he loved you, he wasn’t going anywhere, he’d help you find a way to fix your leg. 

You knew that soon he’d have to get up to go to work. You knew he’d unwind his limbs from yours, would give you the softest kiss you’ve ever felt, and promise to be back with your favorite foods.

But until then, you would stay tucked in against your Devil. Your guiding light. Your comfort when things were dark. Your relief from a fucked up leg.

[kordeliiius]

A Cut From Every Cloth

Series of vintage photo mockups to commemorate Tarsier Studios turning 20 this year, featuring the main members of their pantheon in cultural clothing

Outfit descriptions and references below

Little Nightmares

Six - Japanese hakama, haori, and hair ornaments Mono - Swedish Dalarna suit Runaway - Embroidered Baju Melayu with headwrap

LittleBigPlanet Vita and Tearaway Unfolded

Sunshine - 19th-century Yorkshire dress with bonnet and lace shawl Atoi - Scottish tartan kilt and flat cap Sean - Regency-era suit with cybernetic motifs Flounder - Ringmaster uniform with Russian punk rock motifs Marianne - French folk dress with gothic accessories Otis - Appalachian denim overalls with decorative trim

The Stretchers, Statik, and Fists of Plastic

Red medic - Mexican serape wrap and sombrero Blue medic - Zoot suit with fedora and metallic accessories Dr. Ingen - Victorian pinstripe suit Hero - Hainanese bamboo dance costume

The City of Metronome

Ten - Irish-inspired coordination with walking hat and Galway boots New - Bai and Hmong Hoa-inspired outfit with traditional headdress and Hong Kong embroidery

[seventh-district]

Sam: "Look at me. Hey- look at me a second. I know. I know you're tough. I know how strong you are. You have every right to be proud of that. But being able to handle somethin' doesn't mean you should have to. Least of all when I'm right here trying to help. Please let me help. If not for you then for me, because I don't like knowin' you're hurtin', especially when there's somethin' I can do about it."

Me, shaking my head, fighting back literal tears: "B-but it's gonna give you another headache!"

[kineticallyanywhere]

Monkey’s Paw pages 133-136 ( START HERE || ao3 || previous || next ) AU after episode 62. The Omega Dads try a more desperate gambit, but   careful what you wish for. Our dads find alternate versions of themselves in a strange dreamscape. Ifyou die in the dream, doyou die in real life?

...heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyy

[peacheenie]

pov u r going to comicon in a few months so u went charity shop hunting for a cosplay and found half of it in a singular day :)

[taffywabbit]

my short-term goal as a creative for a few years now has basically been to try and increase my income (or just speed up how quickly I earn the same amount, which is kinda the same thing I guess) so i can reach a point where i make enough that i don't have to constantly be pushing my time and energy to the absolute limit to pay my bills, and can start making time to start larger long-form projects and explore creative areas besides drawing. unfortunately things keep costing more money than they did the last time I looked so it feels like I am not really making much progress towards that goal. I am like a little fish trying to swim upstream and it always feels like there should probably be a smarter, less exhausting way to get where I'm going but I'm just not aware of it

[the---hermit]

@la-galaxie-langblr tagged me to talk about what I do on bad mental health days! As they said in their own post it is very much a work in progress, and it also changes depending on why it's a bad mental health day and whatever I have to also do as a human adult with responsibilities, but there's certainly things that help.

I am an hyper-aware person so I know quite well how I work and what I need, and I am also very aware that many people don't work like me, so let's address right away the thing I know a lot of people might not consider a good starting point. When I am having a bad mental health day or I have to deal with the horrors of emotions in general I tend to isolate myself. Yes it's not always healthy to do so, but that is usually something that I need right at the beginning. I have an awful time opening up with people, doing to requires so much energy for me, so I usually do that once I have worked some stuff out for myself, or once I am calmer and feel less stressed. Talking to friends whether it is to rant about whatever is going on in your life, or to look for distraction if that's what you need is an amazing resource that I appreciate with all my hearth but for me that is the last stage of dealing with something. The main thing I need when I am dealing with something is to have my own quiet place and to be there alone. That allows me to relax as much as I possibly can, so that then I can deal with things.

Usually the first stages of dealing with a bad mental health day in general is to use distractions to get off my shoulders some emotional overwhelm. Playing musing is the number one thing I do, it just makes me feel so much better, it's a great and easy way to let go of stress. Depending on how much mental energy I have I might look for distraction in other hobbies, like listening to a podcast or reading.

Once I feel like I have let go of some emotions and so I can actually focus on whatever is going on, my logical side kicks in and I start analizing the situation. This is a completly automatical thing for me, it's in my nature to dissect and analize everything, and almost a decade of therapy has made me quite good at analizing these situations. I try to figure out what I am feeling if I have a lot of tangled emotions (and I am terrible at this in particular because yours truly uselessly tries to make feelings as logical as possible which, spoiler, is impossible, so don't be like me), and then I try to look at the reaons I might feel a certain way. At that point I just try to figure out what are my options, which means what can I actually do to deal with the situation? Am I feeling emotionally overwhelmed because of something external I can deal with? If the answer is yes, no matter how much emotional stuff I have going on I deal with the thing, because I know that getting the thing out of my head is going to make things 80% better at least. If it's not something I can deal with, I usually sit with my feelings until I feel like I have enough emotional energy to talk it though with someone else.

As I have mentioned I need to consider very well when I talk with people because it can sometimes feel more overwhelming than just sitting with my feelings. But usually I can do that once I have dealt with everything by myself for a bit. Then sharing it with someone like a friend is usually the last step to let go of things.

Other random things that help me are going on walks in nature, when I have enough energy to do that. Or do manual tasks. Whether it is crocheting, drawing, reorganizing my books. Anything that requires me to focus on something physical does wonders. It helps me to shut off my brain for a bit so that I am not completly overwhelmed by emotions, and usually after a while I get to a point where I can actually deal with things.

I am definitely forgetting about something lmao. In general I need quiet time to deal with things, and it is fundamental for me to feel like I can take my time and space to deal with things. That is the one thing people around me have thankfully figured out, which means that if someone notices that something is going on with me that know that the best course of action is not to force me to talk, instead they just give me my space and time and tell me that when I am ready I have their support. I am very grateful for that.

I am tagging @oneardentstudybuddy, @just-a-cup-of-anxietea and @selkiestudies!

[icewindandboringhorror]

"We can get through this by working together, reach out to your friends, community is all we have, a social network will be your security in the world, now is the time to lean on others!"

I do agree, and it's scientifically sound (pretty sure there is data about how people with better social networks live longer and etc) but also....augh..... what about the severe social issues, difficulty to leave the house, physical issues which lead to like zero socialization energy a majority of the time, etc. etc. Social support can be a replacement for structural support, but.. I guess I just wish it didn't have to be. Community is extremely difficult to build, even moreso if you're someone who has issues with social cues or group conversations or even just being around others in the first place. And blah, nuance, of course I'm just complaining or maybe being too negative or maybe misunderstanding, but, I hardly have the energy to brush my hair once every 2 months.. how am I supposed to maintain a wide social network and be active in a Community and Join Groups lol... sometimes it kind of feels like "er.. well if thats my only option then...... ruh roh". It's overwhelming

[anadorablekiwi]

*puts on hoodie and turns on desk fan*

Hm? Yeah Im fine why do you ask?

[mellotronmkll]

Wverytime I sit down at a computer to make music I get so scared

[nice-bright-colors]

For the last two nights I’ve worn a dental appliance (purchased online) in order to alleviate my snoring and subsequent sleep apnea.

For the last two mornings I’ve woken up with sore teeth and a strained jaw muscle. However, I’ve felt refreshed and well rested, even after only 4 hours of deep sleep. I’m over 50 and drink about 100 oz of water a day, so I’m still going to get up to pee.

The Wife™️ has informed me that she doesn’t hear me choking myself awake a few times a night. Plus when she came to bed last night, she could barely tell if I was breathing I was so quiet.

So as it appears now, I don’t know when to hold ‘em and I don’t know when to fold ‘em. Plus I can no longer play the high percentages of just dying in my sleep. Damn.

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[loverboybrightsideghost]

10am

me: oh boy i sure hope i can start gigging this holiday season, but i don't know very many people so i don't know how!

2pm

my violinist friend's teacher: hey iris are you available to do a gig in my church this weekend?

me: oh fuck yeah

[pitgritted]

what being offline from main does to a mf ,,, JAHDBRBRBRNFB

[tenpixelsusie]

does anyone know if they retconned parts of the colossus/kitty thing in recent x men stuff ??? im genuinely curious because from what i've seen the weird age gap stuff is. very uncomfortable