#painthing

[x-heesy]

𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔: 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 ⛄️

𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝙾𝚞𝚝, 𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚜 🙋🏽 @len0r

[ghoultrifle]

hello mr trans ghouls i am having thoughts and also coping with my period and cramps

cw for menstruation and cramps. also penetration in form of menstrual products

to me phantom and rain both have the worst cramps. rain gets really really bad cramps on the first day but then it gets a lot less bad after the first day, but first day they cannot put anything in there on that first day. makes the cramps so much worse (like collapsing onto self in painthe time they tried to use a menstrual cup on the first day) phantom has less bad cramps on the pain scale but has them for the entire time their period is happening. they also cant put anything up there at all during it, they are a pad user through and through.

hello there trans ghoul anon <3 have a little ramble on me :))

cw for menstruation, blood, cramps

i agree with you so hard on all of this !! name an internal product, and rain's tried it. every single time they end up in a bloody mess on the bathroom floor, crying out for ant to come and save them (they know any ghoul would help but have convinced themselves that only phantom understands their struggle and wouldn't think they're gross). ant will come running every time, soft towels and heat packs in hand. they clean rain up so gently, working with their body, not against it; carefully letting rain move their weight so phantom can clean them up properly.

once they're all clean and sat back on the toilet, ant runs to get a pair of period boxers so they don't have to deal with changing pads as often and to alleviate their dysphoria just a bit. it works for rain because that ghoul will be found curled up on their side and they need that all-round coverage that's oh-so-soft too.

phantom pad user is so real and valid. they once asked aether to quintessence them the fuck up and stick a tampon in there but the resulting cramps were so bad they nearly passed out. everyone is so understanding about them being Out Of Action for a week or so every time they have their period though. rehearsals are moved around, a little nook is made in the infirmary for them to come for regular quintessence treatment, and copia makes sure there's always the widest selection of pads for them to use. some of them are even novelty like kids plasters (bandaids) and have cars, trucks, castles, rockets on the packaging. it makes them giggle every time but it's such a nice reminder that they are unconditionally loved and accepted as they are <3

[lennalefay]

Get you a painthing whose whole back blushes when you say that you’d only be a few ounces of pressure away from turning the knifeplay scene into a deboning 😌

[softle0]

helpppp!!!

I used to play with evergreen harbor a lot and when i did i played with the nicest version of the world, however, lately i've been wanting to play in it with the trashy version of the world but whenever I try to repeal the modern development, this particular street and the painthed sunflower on the other neighborhoor refuse to remove from my world T__T and im so doneee, i want them goneee but i cant erased them at all?? does anyone had this problem before or knows how to fix it? i dont really want to change of save file because i had work a lot with tool making my worlds look better and don't want to start over, but this world is driving me crazy T_T

[writtenonreceipts]

Bittersweet challenge: take a sweet prompt and turn it bitter. @jilytoberfest​

Prompt: “Stop making me laugh”

Warnings: angst, parental death, funerals, and general grief/pain.  Modern AU ~2.3k words

find my other jily fics here // AO3 Link

Grow Around the Pain

The fog came on a Tuesday.  Thick and heavy, it clung to the landscape like a glove.  The mist nested into every curved hill and wrapped around every barren tree with such ease it was nearly impossible to remember what the world was like before.

Strange.

Because it was late August where just a week prior the weather had been magnificent with clear blue skies and soaring highs of eighty degrees.  Truly a wonder for that part of the country.  It was talked about and lauded over like some miracle had occurred.  What a wonderful way to end the summer.

And then came Tuesday where everything hid in shadow.

Perhaps it was better this way, Lily decided.  

It was better to have the low hanging clouds and distinct chill in the air to reflect the turmoil sludging through her head then to deal with the juxtaposition of the sun in comparison to the dark alcoves of her mind.

Tuesday was the day her father died.  Now two days later, the fog remained and Lily was expected to play hostess while her mother sat stone-faced in a chair and Petunia couldn’t keep a level head even outside of a crisis.  Not to mention little Dudley was squirming in her lap and Vernon was already boxing in several men to discuss drills.

It was up to Lily to keep the Evans family afloat even if it meant pushing aside her own feelings.

“Thank-you for being here,” she told the Steuers who kept telling her how sorry they were and how terrible it was that she lost her father so young.

“The flowers are beautiful,” she told the Fenwicks who kept telling her that they didn’t even know her father was ill and why had no one told them?

“Please, do come in.” “There are refreshments in the living room.” “Oh, thank-you for the casserole, the kitchen is just over there.”

She had to smile.  She had to laugh.  She had to press everything down.  Because what else was she supposed to do?

The house was full of neighbors and family members alike.  There were people Lily hadn’t seen in years and they were all trying to tell her what she should feel or do.  Between telling people where to stick all the damn casserole dishes and explaining how fine they really were doing—she’d had enough.  Really and truly.

Another greeting card was tucked into her hands with a pitying look from the giver and Lily had enough.  She turned away from the guests still flooding the open house and went to her sister.

“Petunia,” Lily said, kneeling next to where her sister sat.  One year old Dudley was in her lap fussing over the iron grip Petunia kept on him. “Petunia, I’m going upstairs for just a minute, I need you to keep greeting people.”

Her sister stared at her, mouth pursing and eyes wide. “You can’t be serious, Lily.  I have a baby to look after.”

Of course Petunia would say that.  Of course she would use the baby excuse.  Of course this too would be placed on Lily.  She grimaced against the thoughts, flinching back from her sister’s hard glare.

“I can’t do this right now, Petunia,” Lily said.  Amazingly enough her voice was steady, calm.  Everything opposite from what she was feeling inside. “I need you to do this one thing for me.  Five minutes and I’ll be back.”

Petunia tried to protest, but making a scene was one thing she would not do.  For once, proprietary won out in her sister and Lily was grateful.  

She slipped through the small crowd that was taking up the house with as much dignity as she could.  Even as tears began burning the backs of her eyes, Lily somehow managed to offer a few words to those who stopped her.  She had no idea what they said or what she said in return.  All she knew was that she needed to get out.

When she finally managed to make it to the narrow staircase, the tears finally began to tread down her cheeks.  She made it to the second floor and all the way down the hall to her room.  Her room.  The room that had been hers for nineteen years.  She hadn’t left for college, not when dad got sick.  She hadn’t left when Mary invited her to live in the city, not after dad fell the first time.  She hadn’t left for anything.

But now, even as she closed the door with a soft click and was met with the familiar lavender walls and plush blankets of her bed--Lily wanted to be anywhere else.

She only made it a few feet before collapsing at the foot of the bed and sliding to the floor.  Arms wrapped tightly around her middle; Lily shut her eyes.  She could hear the voices of the gathering downstairs leaking up through the floorboards.  She wanted it to disappear.  She wanted to disappear and be anywhere else.

Sometime later—maybe it was only a few minutes—Lily heard the front door open and shut.  New voices joined the fray.  She could have sworn there was something familiar about one of the voices.  Clapping hands, a boisterous laugh.  

Not Petunia.  Not Vernon.  Not her mother. Someone else with a love of fanfare was downstairs.  Lily slumped against her bed and breathed.  Maybe no one would notice if she just stayed up here.  Not if there was someone else playing host for whatever reason.

A set of footsteps thudded up the stairs and paused at the top landing.  Then, slowly, they came down the hall and stopped just outside her door.

She wanted to tell the person to go away.  She couldn’t do this.  Not right now.

There was a soft knock and then her door slowly swung open.

Lily looked up, tears blurring her vision.  Already, she had a quip on her lips and a few choice words to launch at whoever had decided to intrude on her peace.

At first all she saw were the slacks and black converse.  Anyone.  It could have been anyone and she was grappling for a stray shoe she had lying about that she could throw—

“Alright, Evans?”

Of course.

Shutting her eyes, Lily slumped her head back against the edge of the bed and let out a long, shaky sigh.

For as long as she could remember, James Potter had been a staple of the neighborhood.  Not only were his parents well known and accomplished in the time they’d been alive, but James and his little band of friends had been known to wreak havoc in as many ways as possible three hundred and sixty-five days a year.  There may have been an occasional day of reprieve in there but it was hard to say.

James and Lily had not been friends--not really.  More of reluctant accomplices when the time called for it.  They’d grown up side by side, but at a distance.  Side by side by, but running in circles that never met.

James said nothing as he entered the little bedroom and shut the door behind him.  He’d of course been here a total of three other times.  Once when he’d flown a model airplane through her window and decided to climb up the trellis and let himself in.  Once when he’d needed a place to hide from Remus.  Once when he’d come to apologize.

And now.

He took a seat beside her, shoulder to shoulder, and said nothing.

It was just them and the low hum of voices downstairs.

“Sirius is going to lead a karaoke session, I think,” James said after a moment.  “Well, unless Remus can stop him.  Sirius thinks it’ll help lighten the mood downstairs or drive everyone out of the house.”

Lily only listened.

“Peter wants to bake you something,” he continued, “I told him you have enough food in the house, but he insists that this will be baked with spite and anger rather than falsified love.  Which apparently is better somehow.”

She felt a laugh bubble up in her throat, a laugh she did not want to let out.  A laugh that had no business being a part of the universe right now.

“You know Sirius doesn’t have natural reactions to these sorts of things, so hopefully, Remus can talk him down,” James added. “Though, I think he is also trying to determine how many colors he can make Dursely’s face turn in the next hour.”

Lily couldn’t hold back a laugh then.  It was short and strangled, but it was there.  James shifted beside her and she knew he was pleased with himself for that small accomplishment.

“Do you remember four years ago when the pond flooded after that storm?” James asked.  His legs were spread out before him and he drummed a hand on his knee absently.  He’d never been able to sit still for long. “Sirius and I were going to try and snag as many frogs as we could and then stick them in Dursley’s car and then your dad caught us.  He then found these other nets for us to use, bigger to catch more.  He didn’t know what we had planned, but he was more than willing to help us out.”

James’ fingers kept drumming on his leg.

“Or there was also--” James said, but Lily cut him off by grabbing that hand and entwining their fingers.

“Stop,” she whispered, “stop making me laugh.  Please.”

She gave his hand a tight squeeze, tight enough that she was causing herself pain.  But now that she was holding him, she couldn’t quite let go.

James leaned into her and pressed his forehead to her temple.  She could feel the cool metal rims of his glasses against her skin.  It was strange to be this close to him.  It was strange how these boys had managed to become a small part of her life.  How this boy…After years of being his somewhat friends, years of admiring him from afar, years of something different brewing between them—it was strange to have him seated here beside her.

But Lily found she didn’t quite want that to change.

He sighed, his breath fanning against her skin. “I wish I could say it gets easier, Lily.  I really wish I could.”

It had been two years since James’ own parents had died.  Just before his eighteenth birthday.  He knew.  He knew better than anyone.

“It’s okay, y’know?” he said. “It’s okay to feel like you’re falling apart.  You’re allowed to feel this way.”

Lily swallowed stiffly.  She kept holding his hand.  It was the only thing grounding her right now.

“It’s gonna be hard, but you’re gonna be fine.”  

“But what if I’m not?” she whispered. “What if I never am?”

“That’s alright too,” James replied.

Downstairs, Lily could make out the deep inflections of Sirius’s voice.  She didn’t know exactly what he was saying, but it was enough to keep the crowd of the wake occupied.  At some point she would remember to thank Sirius for his antics.  And she’d be sure to tell Peter she appreciated the mass amounts of brownies he’d concocted.  And Remus would be gifted several new pairs of socks for his stalwart nature.

"How did you do it?" She asked. Peeling her eyes open, she chanced a look at James. He was still impossibly close to her. Close enough she could see the way the honey of his eyes mixed with flecks of brown. She'd never quite noticed how bright his eyes really were.

"One day at a time," he said, “or one hour, one minute.  But it’s okay to hurt, Lily.  And it’s okay to find just a little bit of happiness too.”

She wanted to believe him.  Oh, how she wanted to.  But could she?  Could she make it further than this moment?  It had only been three days since her father left and she was still so empty.  And here was James.  He was trying.  He was fighting.  He was doing the best he could.  He was here.

“And it can take as long as it needs to,” James added.  He kept holding her hand, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.

Lily opened her mouth, not sure what she was going to say, but sure that something needed to be said.  And a giant crash sounded from downstairs.

James hummed quietly and quirked one of his grins at her. “Or until Sirius burns your house down.”

She couldn't help but smile at him.  It was a wisp of a thing, but it was there. “If it gets everyone out of here, I won’t mind.  Though, Petunia might end up murdering him, just so you are aware.”

James gave her hand a squeeze. “I give him five more minutes before that happens.”

“Five minutes,” she repeated. She could make it five minutes.

“It’s going to be alright,” James said. “I promise.”

Another noise came from downstairs.  In all honesty, Lily didn’t care.  Sirius could burn the house down, Peter could bake whatever he wanted, and Remus could lay witness to it all.  She didn’t care.  She’d found just a little bit of respite, no matter how brief it may be.

“How can you promise that?” she asked.

James was quiet for a moment, eyes growing distant.  Then he shrugged in nonchalance.

“Because you’re Lily,” he said, “and you’re the strongest person I know.”

Despite it all, Lily found she had to believe him.  And it wasn’t because of the confidence he threw around.  Or the fact he’d been the one person to search her out.  It wasn’t because she’d known him for years as an almost friend.  It was because for the first time since Tuesday, she’d managed to smile.

So maybe he was right.  Maybe she would make it through this.  Someday.

 ...

thanks for reading!

[slaanxsh]

The Politics of Pleasure and Pain

The Slaaneshi are hardly a monolith.

While all daemons eventually dabble in every extreme of every sensation, preferences and opinions and methods (and opinions on the methods) are very diverse. Broadly, Slaaneshi daemons fall into two categories: Disciples of Pleasure and Pain. There are more specific categories, such as those who focus on pain, but are capable of delivering pleasure and vice versa as well as those who as equally skilled at both, but none of the proposed titles have “caught on” so to speak.

Disciples of Pain are also called Artisans of Anguish or Avatars of Agony and are Daemons of Rank who focus on tormenting the foe (or fellows) and causing untold suffering. There are far more of them than their sisters and since Slaanesh generally places more emphasis on pain than pleasure, these daemons view themselves as superior to Avatars of Ecstasy and Desire. Though all extremes delight them, they are especially driven by fear. While they can provoke desire to please in their subjects, the core of that obedience is fear, which the Disciples of Desire cite as dangerous and unreliable. So easily does fear become hate and hate become revolution by thralls who have been punished too eagerly, but rewarded not at all.

Disciples of Pleasure are the aromatic pleasure-daemons of Desire and Ecstasy, considered avatars of both. Their very blood is irresistible, enhanced with tonics and spices, their bodies hung with glittering, eye catching piercings. More charismatic by far, these disciples are much fewer compared to those of Pain as their aspects pull more towards pleasure. They dominate through lust and inspiring in their subjects a desire to pleasure, rather than wanton violence. However, they can be influenced as they influence and a particularly crafty mortal can turn that influence towards their own ends (assuming they too are not ensnared by the daemon’s insidious powers). This is a major weakness in the eyes of the Disciples of Pain.

It is not unheard of for daemons of these creeds to work together. Certaintly, it isn’t unheard of for them to fight.

[alphaphysiotherapycenter]

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The concrete idea of providing the best physiotherapy in Bahrain from a service-based perspective or viewpoint can be summarized depending on the scope of personalized treatment. The potential possibilities of physiotherapy treatment according to the personal needs of a patient help them recover faster and with optimal efforts. When you go for a physiotherapy treatment schedule, the essential idea is to build an empowering health and wellness solution with a basic platform for customized care and attention.

[beastblade69]

I fucking love this song it introduced me to sarah kane's poetry

[transmittted]

THE PAINTHE PAIN THE PAINNNNNNN

[sourabha]

Himalayan Aves #94: Robin accentor

two days of snowstormsthen robin accentorsgoing about as a matter of factsnow, as if silence grew tissue, rests nowa human heart needsthis more-than-human worldwith its wind, its snowits winged thingsa few moments, intense, intimateand fidelities change within youfrom emptiness to expansefrom lovers to lovefrom suffering to merely painthe mountains watchyou tiptoe into a mystery

[maximuswolf]

Nine Inch Nails Hurt (1994) first four lines compared to The Strawbs Round and Round (1974)

Nine Inch Nails – Hurt (1994) first four lines compared to The Strawbs – Round and Round (1974) Trent ReznorI hurt myself todayTo see if I still feelI focus on the painThe only thing that's real Dave CousinsI drew the blade across my wristTo see how it would feelLooked into the futureThere was nothing to revealWhile the songs have different themes, the album “Hero and Heroine” that contains the song Round and Round is heavily influenced by heroin addiction. I wonder if Trent at some level was inspired by it. Here is an example of some of the addiction inspired lyrics off the album:Enticing Heroine, so calmTook Hero firmly by the armTold him that she meant no harmThat she alone could save himHero and Heroine (1974) performed by The Strawbs, written by Dave Cousins Submitted April 29, 2024 at 01:31PM by MoronTheBall https://ift.tt/BsPf3Zk via /r/Music

[apheniti]

30 anni di "The Downward Spiral"

30 anni fa i Nine Inch Nails pubblicarono il loro secondo album, dedicato interamente all’autodistruzione. Se non conoscete il gruppo, sicuramente conoscete però la canzone di seguito, di cui Johnny Cash ha fatto una famosissima e molto bella cover (la trovate dopo il testo, scrivetemi pure quale versione preferite!). I hurt myself todayTo see if I still feel, IFocus on the painThe only thing…

[wormdogg]

Keep On

He sought to hide in a brilliant disguiseBut, when he stepped outside he met his demiseInto not, he wandered, beset with griefFor that life, was way fonder than death, you see From now til neverending immense in his painThe listlessness begat, and filled him with shameYou see, he revealed in plastic, it all seems so fakeReality is like elastic, it streatches you out of shape Take heed, in his…

[dariusz-art]

https://avagallery.it/collezione_galleria/painthings/# - In the "Paintings" section, AvA Gallery and gallery curator Emma Chiaramonte recommends a selection of my paintings along with other artists from around the world in a variety of techniques ranging from acrylic, oil, mixed media and watercolor. Emma works to reinvent the experience of art through concepts of eclecticism and aesthetic experimentation. You are invited to visit the Gallery's website.