#feel no pain

[beatsforbrothels]

Sade - Feel No Pain

[tha-wrecka-stow]

[vampire-sugar]

...at this point me listening to anything will have me relating it back to iwtv somehow but this might have been the worst time to be in my sade era...

[crmsnmth]

And I Avoid Conflict

I bite his fist as he throws his punch drawing bloody knuckles yet again Each blow is useless to someone with a high tolerance for pain He'll get tired before I give up, they always do I'm not even sure I understand why I have becone the centerfold in a violence digest I don't even like confrontaion and go out of my way to avoid it

He calls me nanes like faggot And I tell him he should come up with something orignal I was a goth kid in a town of farmers does he really think that word is gonna hurt me I let him have his ignorant fun I've got nothing else going on and this at least gives me a hit of adrenaline That's my life, always looking for the next hit

He goes for my stomach where I have no teeth and I cough his blood right into his face I almost start to laugh but I can't give him that I can't let him know this beating doesn't phase me At least the last one was with a group He's the lone ranger with a silver bullet It's high noon and this duel already started My skin is covered in Cactus thorns

I hardly feel them

His fists keep up their assualt and I finally fall to the ground Not because he's got me, but because my legs are tired and I'm wondering what I'll do after thi Probably go the Uptowner because they won't care if I'm covered in blood

[mudwerks]

(via Feel No Pain - Sade (1992) 

[stylistic-nightmare]

Forbidden - Feel No Pain

[violetfoxsketches]

PhantomFang #33?

(Spotify embeds seem to be broken so you get Bandcamp)

Your story's told The lights are out We all get old beneath the ground The shock sets in You wave goodbye You feel too dead to be alive

Death was the end of the Fervent Fang's story. Alas, is was only the first chapter of the Phantom's... It had been two years since he had met his end.

The Unification Wars were a resounding success. Ajexs Valkor Midir rose above the rest as the new Voivode, and his ever-faithful second in command was dubbed his Fervent Fang. The Fang was eager to travel to his former home on the Sword Coast to announce his new legacy —and to rub his accomplishments in the face of the father that always doubted his talents. Besides, he had earned some time off after all of that hard work, and he’d promised his kid sister that he would come back sooner than later.

The city celebrated him; his father even praised him, and his sister revered him as her hero. His family legacy rocketed in renown, and the revival of their supposed birthright as Dragonspeakers grew with it. It was everything the Fang could ever wish for, and he spent weeks thriving in the shower of attention and praise. Boasting his skills and abilities as the right-hand man of the most powerful Voivode in Al-Tor. But one should always be careful how high they build their pedestal.

The attack was brutal and swift. Without warning, the city was assaulted by a group of dragons, raining elements from the sky. The Cult of the Dragon had set their sights on the city, and more specifically, the Fang's family for their blasphemous mockery of draconic heritage. A city in peril quickly turned to their new local hero to save them.

But the Fang was no hero; the only man he’d ever sworn on his life to protect was Voivode Ajexs. And yet, upon witnessing the trembling forms of the family he’d often been at odds with, he made the stupidest —or possibly the bravest- decision of his career. He knew of a teleportation circle that could save his family, but only if he afforded them some time to reach and activate it. So he stuffed the drawing Ajexs had given him of the circle that led to the Voivode’s Estate into his father’s hands, told him to grab his sister, and run.

The Fang's father and sister escaped safely to the Estate, expecting the Fang to be right behind them. One day passed, then two. Then five. Sending spells did not reach him, Scrying spells found only rubble where the Family Estate once stood.

His body was discovered two weeks later. Furious, Voivode Ajexs refused to accept the outcome. That was one of his best Fangs, and easily the most devoted. Not to mention, the two had grown to become close friends over their years of adventures together.

Resurrection magic hadn’t worked in Al-Tor for a very long time, but Ajexs had something stronger and darker than that at his disposal. He called upon the power of his Goddess, Ju’nah, demanding she right this and bring his Fang back, but what returned to the Voivode was not the man who once served him. At least, not entirely.

Blue eyes that once defined the elf’s expression were now silver and devoid of color. Previously full, copper locks of hair were now streaked a silky white. Blotches of deep steel grey decimated a once tan complexion, and gratuitous white scars rounded his throat where the killing blow had been struck. His voice had been reduced to a haunting, raspy whisper. He was cold as Death itself. But he was alive.

The first six months were the hardest. The Fang had to relearn almost everything. His reflexes were there, but his body was weak and couldn’t keep up. Recovery proceeded at a painfully slow pace. Additionally, Voivode Ajexs gave the Fang a harsh truth: His death had been very public, and if he wanted to return to his former life, to his lovers, or his family, he could no longer serve under the country he had helped to unify. The Fang balked at the idea of abandoning his Voivode and begged Ajexs to reconsider, but it was to no avail. Stubborn as ever, the Fang continued to pledge his fealty and keep his survival a secret in the hopes that Ajexs would someday change his mind. He refused to leave the estate and spent the better part of eighteen months working to regain his martial prowess. While reaching nowhere near the speed and aim that had made him famous, the former Fang had found some measure of formidability. He even made an effort to study what books had been salvaged from his father’s personal library so next time he met one of those wretched dragons, he'd be ready. He was going to show his Voivode he could still be of service.

Eventually, the Voivode agreed to allow the elf to continue to serve under him, but he would have no official rank or title. No longer a Fang, Immeral would become his Voivode's shadow operative and made to swear no one from his previous life would learn of his survival. Should anyone find out he was still alive, that was it; he would be forced to retire permanently from his service to the Voivode.

“Don’t worry about it, AJ,” the withered whisper insisted without a second of hesitation, “You’ll always have my undying loyalty. If you don’t believe that by now, I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you all over again.”

Now, under the pseudonym of Raven, the elf works to undermine the machinations of the Cult of the Dragon in his first mission as the Voivode Ajexs’ Phantom Fang.

Most times we're dead forever Sometimes that's for the better Death always fools the clever We all will hang together You better not speak too loud You better not make a sound Because in return your life will burn down to the ground

[thesavageislander]

Sade (1992) Ph. Albert Watson

[celeste-tyrrell]

is it really true that the average person's pain level is a 0?

[thedisablednaturalist]

Kinda fucked up that we all coo and sympathize with "former gifted kids" but never talk about the students who had to stay late after school or over the summer for remedial classes/clubs, who struggled to get above a C, who were given up on or punished. Who tried so hard to understand or just couldn't. Who were grouped with the "stupid kids" (a classmate called us that in remedial math btw)

Autistic kids and adhders who can't relate to their gifted peers and are constantly alienated by them. Kids who struggled in school due to dealing with a chronic or mental illness or physical/learning/developmental disability. Those of us who have had to drop out of highschool or college. Kids who worked so hard and wanted to be seen as smart, but never were. Who watched as their peers seem to fly by them in school, while they were left behind. Who were bullied and put down by those in the gifted and honors classes. Whose confidence was absolutely destroyed by education.

I love you all and I'm so sorry the school system failed you. I'm sorry you weren't properly accommodated and given the education you deserved. I'm sorry people put you down for something that they never had to fight for.

[caffeinatedopossum]

Me when I remember something I said ages ago that was wrong or my values no longer align with

[calledbyflowers]

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Remember that this is not the proof that they love each other

That was a last-ditch attempt from Crowley to get Aziraphale to stay

This is the proof that they love each other

Their love wasn't just made real because they kissed

It always existed

[thepeacefulgarden]

[irhabiya]

i'm curious how many people also don't experience cramps as their main symptom, because back pain is the worst for me by far it's usually how i can tell my period is coming up too

[novelconcepts]

I Saw the TV Glow is such a uniquely, devastatingly queer story. Two queer kids trapped in suburbia. Both of them sensing something isn’t quite right with their lives. Both of them knowing that wrongness could kill them. One of them getting out, trying on new names, new places, new ways of being. Trying to claw her way to fully understanding herself, trying to grasp the true reality of her existence. Succeeding. Going back to help the other, to try so desperately to rescue an old friend, to show the path forward. Being called crazy. Because, to someone who hasn’t gotten out, even trying seems crazy. Feels crazy. Looks, on the surface, like dying.

And to have that other queer kid be so terrified of the internal revolution that is accepting himself that he inadvertently stays buried. Stays in a situation that will suffocate him. Choke the life out of him. Choke the joy out of him. Have him so terrified of possibly being crazy that he, instead, lives with a repression so extreme, it quite literally is killing him. And still, still, he apologizes for it. Apologizes over and over and over, to people who don’t see him. Who never have. Who never will. Because it’s better than being crazy. Because it’s safer than digging his way out. Killing the image everyone sees to rise again as something free and true and authentic. My god. My god, this movie. It shattered me.