You make me feel like I can’t do anything right. And yet you won’t let me leave so I can better myself. You treat me like dirt. You leave bruises, you belittle. And I am powerless to stop it.
Spider-Man is about to foil a bank robbery when he gets caught off-guard by Masked Marauder who blinds him with energy beams.
- Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man v1 #25, 1978 (1st pic)
- Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man v1 #26, 1979 (2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th pics)
Close to the Horizon (2019) - Part One
From the moment she crosses paths with Danny, Jessica is fascinated. The dashing, confident twenty-year-old has everything she dreams of—looks, success, independence, money—and his kind, infinitely cheerful nature is spellbinding.
Yet Jessica sees something else lingering underneath Danny’s perfect facade. Bit by bit, she manages to pick it apart, unveiling harrowing truths about a deeply traumatic childhood that has left more than just emotional scars. Now, far away from his home and family, he is fighting to build a normal life for himself—even though he may be destined for a future as dark as his past.
Rhea being physically abusive towards her son, Mon-El in Supergirl 2x17
(Mon-El hate is not allowed on this post thank you very much)
- Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man v1 #70, 1982
Spider-Man is having trouble fighting the telepathic Mindworm as a monster.
- Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man v1 #35, 1979
VIDEO REQUEST from @hello3681
Felt like the first bit were kinda necessary but you can skip the middle part if you don´t understand swedish and jump to the end to see the real beating
Hawkeye, She-Hulk, Captain America and Wasp are having trouble fighting those monsters.
- Avengers v1 #225, 1982
Another one for Deniz Can Aktaş from the Turkish series Menajerimi Ara episode 3…
P.S. He makes this soft sound in GIF #7, oooh my tralala~
Work in progress @legelist studio ,24 ,Aborisade road,lawanson Lagos
No time to waste ,your next banger come to us #bangers #banger #beats #beaten #beatyesterday #beatstoday #beatsmaker #beatz #production #producer #productionaffairs #dance #ay #ayurveda #lagosnigeria🇳🇬 #surulere #weed #weedporn #weedphotography #musiconthego #kurukere #kalakutarepublic (at Suru Lere, Lagos, Nigeria)
It’s a windy night,
cold and windy,
and I pray to god that he doesn’t hear me.
Leaning against the unbashful and naked brick wall
is more wearing than I thought it’d be.
The gritty dry cement stings the new gashes,
so my body ends up resembling a saggy doll thrown askew on the floor,
with my back arched just a bit to keep
the biggest gashes and blisters from scraping against the surface
while propping my weight on the little unbruised patch on my left hip.
Finally able to steal myself some time
makes me release a sigh.
My position, just behind the rows of faded drapes
left to dry on the stretches of wire between our houses,
still dripping water,
gives me the advantage of being hidden
and I appreciate that
for I can’t look into any other person’s eyes
without my shameful screams and groans and pathetic wailing ringing in my ears,
without feeling dirty,
because their eyes tell me they heard it,
their eyes tell me they know
and I can’t help but feel naked and small.
The wind which was mute and still for some time
as if stopping to inspect the intruder of the silent night,
picks up its pace again,
seemingly bored of me
or probably disgusted
at the pus oozing wounds on my knees.
The breeze although cool,
does little to pacify the angry cuts.
I realize I had been tracing the bruises and small scratches
on my thighs,
trying to count them,
but stop the movement of my fingertips
for it’ll really be of no use
on the rest of my body
as it resembles more of one mangled collection
of old wounds and new
making them indistinguishable.
I realize another thing,
that I’ve been sighing a lot lately,
so I stop myself before I let another sigh of self-pity
slip past my busted lips.
A peeking, darting, scared pair of eyes
but they’re gone before I can react,
and even if I could,
it wouldn’t have had been much.
It probably would’ve been a fleeting look
or a heavy stare,
filled with knowing and common feelings.
It could’ve been with Meenakshi from the house over
or Deepa from the house by the water tap.
Both the pair of eyes,
mine and her’s,
although saw the same vile things,
although display the same insignificant emotions,
although convey the same nauseating self-despair
and although replay the same scenes with different husbands
and different cots and glasses and plates and pots,
Ashamed as if the others could see
her husband’s frenzied eyes,
red with visible lunacy.
It’ll be my turn again tomorrow,
my turn to be ashamed,
my turn to hide my face
behind the corner of my saree,
my turn to thank this pandemic for giving me a reason
to hide my beat-up face behind a mask,
my turn to let the other women know
to hurry and whisper their prayers with more fervor,
to pray to god to end this lockdown,
so that the beatings would stop,
so that the men could get their liquor
and the crazed beatings would stop.
My attention goes back to the dried yellow leaves
which seem to be glowing golden under the streetlights
as they rush down the street,
The gushes of the wind now feel like whip lashes
on the already raw flesh.
It jolts me awake,
telling me to get a move on.
I give a fleeting look to the flying, little leaves again,
looking like a flock of yellow birds hurrying to reach their destination.
I get up without getting tangled
in my loosely wrapped saree,
soaked red in various places,
which got torn almost everywhere a few hours ago.
I got up to go back inside,
but those little birds have held my eyes captive.
More and more leaves are breaking away from the branches
and joining the herd.
and the sight is doing something to me,
something that I welcome
and I’m scared that I welcome it so brazenly.
I might die out there.
I know, death is right there,
In that very air in which those birds are flying.
But death has been right beside me these past weeks
and I know that I will get to know death soon,
if not today then tomorrow
and I’ll be but an assaulted and bruised body turning blue and black,
left on the garbage pile behind the slum.
But I will choose how I want to greet death.
The leaves have picked up their paces,
death is as if coaxing me to come and try it.
So I make my choice
and I run.
This poem was inspired by the increase in the rate of domestic violence cases allover the world during the almost complete lockdown of the entire world. The case of south-east asian countries particularly stood out to me because the government had to allow the sales of liquor when the entire country was shut simply to pacify their agitated and rowdy voter base.
Progress shot. Still at work with beaten gold on canvas. Sunday noon goals. No binge watching on Netflix these days.
#at work #canvasses #goldisgeil #art #streetart #beaten gold #germany #karlsruhe #swag #neue Kunst gallery (hier: Karlsruhe, Germany)
Work in progress @legelist studio ,24 ,Aborisade road,lawanson Lagos
No time to waste ,your next banger come to us #bangers #banger #beats #beaten #beatyesterday #beatstoday #beatsmaker #beatz #production #producer #productionaffairs #dance #ay #ayurveda #lagosnigeria🇳🇬 #surulere (at Suru Lere, Lagos, Nigeria)
Flash Thompson as Venom is stuck in Savage Land where he is hunted down by Kraven the Hunter.
- Venom v2 #2, 2011
The Umbrella Academy 2x04 - Number Five vs. the Swedes
requested by anonymous