daily-beaten

Movie Review: Moonlight (2016) 

   In the Oscar Nominated film, we are taken through a three part story of Chiron, a young boy growing up in Miami.  This film beautifully captures the harsh reality of growing up in the 1980s as a minority in the United States.  Chiron’s story is filled with struggles centered around his family, financial security, and sexuality.  Be warned, though, tissues are essential when watching (spoilers to follow). 

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In Which You Rescue Rocket (Guardians of the Galaxy Fluff)

As requested by anon: can you do a fluff of rocket raccoon please

This turned out to be a tricky prompt…I tried my hardest, I swear! Also credit goes to the gif maker.

The man you called your father was twisted in the worst of ways. Emotion was a foreign concept to him, and you were pretty sure that he was physically born without a heart. It was the only explanation for the things he did and the way he so off-handedly justified himself by saying that it was all “for science”. But you knew better. You knew that experimenting with the actual lives of others couldn’t possibly benefit any sort of legitimate research question or theory. Everything he did, he did out of selfish curiosity.

You’d lost count of the amount of poor souls that had come through his lab. Most of them started as animals. Cute, innocent animals that you’d learned to stop growing attached to, as they never lasted past one or two of his experiments. At least until he came along.

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The Torture Murder of Sylvia Likens

In early 1965 a struggling housewife named Gertrude Baniszewski started advertising her home as a sort of flophouse for inconvenient children, where parents would pay her to look after their children while they searched for work. Baniszewski soon took in the oldest daughters of two circus workers, Sylvia and Jenny Likens, and agreed to accept $20 a week for their upkeep. It was a cramped situation between the family and the two guests, and Baniszewski began taking her anger out primarily on 16 -year-old Sylvia. Rumors spread at school that Sylvia stole food out of rubbish bins and had a boyfriend, and as punishment Baniszewski starved the girl, whipped her, slapped her around the face. Her sister Jenny was just twelve, and felt too powerless to act. Their caretaker’s rage peaked when their parents were late with the $20 payment; Baniszewski invited several neighborhood children over and encouraged them to mistreat Sylvia; and so her torture really began.

Sylvia was tied up in the basement for days on end, accused of imaginary slights and punished near continuously. She was beaten daily, often barefisted, and lit cigarettes were stubbed out on her body. Sylvia had to beg for food and was forced to soil the narrow bit of concrete she was confined to, and the kids Baniszewski befriended took turns stripping her naked and whipping her, yanking out tufts of her hair, burning her.

The autopsy of her body later revealed over two dozen impact injuries and Sylvia’s genital reason in particular was a center of massive trauma. She was also covered in a number of small cuts, burns, and rope burn injuries, and was severely malnourished. But the injury thst caught investigators eyes the most was the awful message scrawled childishly on the teenagers stomach in red welts: I’M A PROSTITUTE AND I LOVE IT!

Neighbors last heard Sylvia banging on the basement wall with a shovel, and then she seemed to disappear. Sylvia was, in fact, enduring her final round of torture at the hands of the sadistic housewife and her group of morally vapid children. As punishment for wetting herself earlier in the day, Sylvia was made to keep standing while her head was repeatedly punched into a wall. She was then flipped on the concrete while a boy heated a needle to write the grim exclamation on the poor girls abdomen. Sylvia was thrown on a bed to sleep, while her foster mother went upstairs and watched television.

The next day, Sylvia was delirious due to dehydration and internal bleeding. She could not stand or walk and lapsed in and out of consciousness. Her sister Jenny tried to sneak food to her, but it was too late; Sylvia Likens was dead, from a combination of malnutrition and internal injuries.

Baniszewski made the children swear to silence, but police visited the house to discuss Sylvia’s absence from school and were tipped off by Jenny as to what happened. Sylvia’s battered corpse was discovered in a bedroom, and it was immediately obvious she was the victim of horrendous abuse. The crime scene examiner called it the worst case of abuse he had ever seen in the state of Indiana. Baniszewski, her daughter, and several local children were arrested and put on trial. The unsmiling housewife was sentenced to life, her daughter to a maximum of ten years, the her accomplices recieved various reduced sentences when they gave evidence.

anonymous asked:

in-universe prompt: ninja b/rian has been having a rough time (you can decide why) so he tries to meditate to get his mind off the bad stuff but it keeps coming back to him, ending up with him getting semi flashbacks to being berated at the ninja clan for not being able to hold his emotions in check. As he's starting to dissociate in a panic, danny just happens to walk in on him and manages to calm him down and convince him that he's awesome just the way he is <3 - love, @sin-grumps

This got long

@sin-grumps

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Gift Fic: Jealous Touches

Gajevy

Rated: T

One-Shot

Jealous Touches

Requested by: @ozigirl16

Tango + Kiss

Post Tenrou (and Key to the Starry Heavens Arc)

Pre-Grand Magic Games Arc

Gajeel was sitting in a dance studio, glaring as he watched Levy and her dance partner for this mission.

How the fuck had he allowed Mira to convince him to join Levy on this shitty mission?

Protect her from any wandering hands, she said.

Well, Mira, that was all he was fuckin’ seein’!

Crimson eyes watched as Levy practiced the Tango with her partner, Lance something’. The sensual dance allowing his hands to run over her curves and to lift her, making intimate gestures that outside of this dance, he knew Levy would be flustered at.

How the fuck did he end up here, watching a woman he wished to touch so intimately get touched by another man? It was a cruel punishment for all his wrong doings.

Levy, she was clad in a white tank top, some black stretchy shorts, black leggings, and black jazz shoes. Overall, her outfit was simple, and Gajeel found himself more attracted to her in that moment.

He watched as her feet moved quickly with their client’s, how each moment was sensual. Her body dipping occasionally, her legs extending, showing her flexibility.

It felt wrong watching her with another man. He felt that it should be him touching her in such a manner, caressing her body.

He didn’t deserve to after what he did.

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2

Killed Her Abuser
Brigitte Harris

On the 28th of June 2007, Eric Goodridge was lured to an apartment by his daughter, Brigitte Harris. Whilst inside Goodridge was handcuffed, had a towel stuffed in his mouth and had his penis severed. Goodridge later died.

At the age of 2, Harris was abandoned by her mother and lived between New York and Liberia. During this time she was raped, molested and beaten daily. It’s claimed relatives knew and did nothing.

In 2009, Brigitte Harris was sentenced to 5-15 years 

In August 2012, Harris was released from prison

anonymous asked:

"I keep telling them that we are not dating but ..." with matt murdock ?? Your blog is amazing 💙💙

Okay, so I thought the phrase was just “I keep telling them we’re not dating, but…” INSTEAD the full one is “I keep telling them we’re not dating, but they keep telling me friends don’t normally make out when drunk.”

I didn’t check. And wrote this instead. That I’ll post anyway. LMAO

“I keep telling them we’re not dating, but…” + Matt


The both of you fall into an easy pattern.

Being Matt’s friend since when you were both still at the orphanage, it’s not a big of a surprise that you still spend a lot of time together, sometimes even consisting of you spending entire weeks at his apartment.

The place feels just as a home to you as does your own tiny apartment, a few blocks away from Matt’s office. And you guess he feels the same about yours, as he’s often preferring to be at your place rather than his.

It’s one of his rough days when he climbs up at your window in the middle of the night, so tired and beaten that all he can do is just slump his body besides your on the bed, not even noticing your quiet murmurs to him.

The next morning goes as normal as if can when your best friend is a blind guy who fights criminals and gets beaten up daily.

You try to patch him up in the best way you can and even try to mask up a few purple marks with your make-up, thing which he just laughs at.

Shower, breakfast, work. An easy pattern.

When Matt’s got time enough, he makes sure to walk you to work himself, even if it’s the other way around from his office.

Your job it’s not as important or heroic as his, but you love it anyway. And you know he loves it too, even if he can’t really see it. Being a ballet teacher to smart little girls can be a blessing and a curse sometimes.

A blessing when it’s the end of a class and they come up running at you, squeezing the life out of you with tiny hugs and kisses and frantic promises of how they’re going to miss you.

And it’s a curse when–

“Miss (L/N), is he your boyfriend?” Cassie asks shyly once Matt leaves and you curse at yourself mentally because you know he can hear it and he is most likely listening (and laughing) as he walks down by the busy street.

“No, Cassie. He’s my best friend.” You chuckle lightly and reply as gently as you can, knowing that if you give a wrong answer, she’ll probably be mad with you during the whole morning.

Her lips close into a tiny pout, her arms crossing around her chest as she frowns slightly.

“But he kissed you!” She protests with a slam of feet against the floor that makes you hold back a laugh. “Don’t you only kiss boyfriends and girlfriends?”

“He kissed me on the cheek, Cass.” You explain with a grin, reaching out your hand to run through her brown, curly hair. “I kiss you on the cheek all the time, don’t I?”

To make your point, you kneel down next to her and press a wet kiss to her cheek, a giggle escaping her lips as you tickle her stomach slightly and she pulls back.

“Well, yes but you’re always with him!” She insists, her cheeks soon turning into a faint shade of red as you frown. “And he’s pretty!”

“He is, isn’t he?” You laugh and then tap your index finger on her nose as she rolls her eyes. “I’ll make sure to introduce you two next time.”

The look on her face is nearing adoration and you can’t help but laugh when she nods frantically, running to her friends rightly after to probably beam up about her meeting.

And you just hope that Matt already heard it.

But Matt doesn’t mention anything about the class in the days that follow.

Not on Friday or Saturday or Sunday and you’re almost thinking he didn’t really hear it by the next Monday. You don’t know if you should be happy or sad. You’d have to face Cassie’s wrath.

But then again when you’re ready to kiss his cheek goodbye, he pushes you into the studio, a smirk on his lips as he claims to have a very important meeting with one of your girls.

You laugh incredulously at him and brace yourself for whatever it’s coming from them.

Shame you can’t say you braced yourself for that.

“That’s Miss (L/N)’s boyfriend!” Cassie shrieks once she notices the both of you standing there and then a wave of giggles and questions follow, making you groan playfully and Matt laugh in both amusement and amazement.

“I’m so sorry, Matt.” You apologize between a sigh, a lazy smile curving your lips as you look at him slightly guilty. “I keep telling them we’re not dating but…”

Your voice trails as you shrug apologetic, Matt soon bumping into your shoulder with his.

“It’s okay.” He replies instantly, his lips turning into a smirk as he shrugs. “I kinda like it.”

“You like them, me or being my boyfriend?” You ask between a chuckle as your cheeks flush and Matt’s smirk just widen, probably feeling your embarrassment too.

You can’t say your braced yourself for that.

“All of it.”

I would miss months of school and then return with bright blond hair. Needless to say, there was bullying. I wasn’t beaten up daily, but there was name-calling and jealousy. You have to bear in mind that ‘Harry Potter’ wasn’t cool. I wasn’t part of the ‘Terminator’ franchise.

4

Man of the moment on mancandykings: » Tom Felton

“I would miss months of school and then return with bright blond hair. Needless to say, there was bullying. I wasn’t beaten up daily, but there was name-calling and jealousy. You have to bear in mind that ‘Harry Potter’ wasn’t cool. I wasn’t part of the ‘Terminator’ franchise.”

AU - Dystopian/Invasion/Sci-fi Mary x Matthew

Forty-four years after the invasion of Earth and the virtual enslavement of humankind, the Crawley family is forcibly separated and sent to the desolate cities around the world. Trapped in a grim metropolis, Mary struggles to survive alone, but her new world is a brutal place. Beaten almost daily by the police and half-dead from starvation, she is an inch away from losing her will to live – until she happens on a face she has not seen since she was small: Matthew Crawley.

At first unable to bring herself to trust another living thing, Mary eventually accepts Matthew’s offer to help her. Together, they manage to build some resemblance of a bearable life, finding food and shelter amongst crumbling conditions. The rumour that a resistance group is retaliating against their oppressors brings the hope that Earth might finally feel like home again.

But that hope is diminished when Matthew commits a crime that carries a fatal penalty. Forced to hide in a city-turned battleground, the fight to survive becomes even more desperate for the both of them. Cold-hearted police hunt them down, coming closer to catching them each day, and freedom seems to slip further away. At the same time, a bloody war is transpiring around them, one that will decide the fate of the entire human race – and Mary and Matthew will either fight their way to freedom or die trying.

“But why do such terrible
things happen to the best people?
I’ve seen some of the kindest
souls get beaten daily,
and the most beautiful minds
are often filled with the most ruthless
monsters. I know people
who give flowers to strangers
and have rocks thrown at them in
return. I know people who
are covered head to toe in honesty
but others just let them burn.
Why do the worst things happen
to such good people?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

—  conversations #1 // r.e.s

catmonsterscupcakes  asked:

What`s it like becoming Tumblr famous?

I know what I’ve done is a good thing for people who’ve been bullied, but I feel guilty I’m getting all this attention xD I don’t really consider myself famous but if I can spread positivity through my passion then its all good.  My Goal in life is to be the best I can be. When I workout and train and push myself to limits and beyond and with each new step I feel like I’ve greatly ascended past what I thought was possible. When I was a chubby anime fanboy getting beaten up daily I felt helpless

and had no outlet to make myself better but with Fitness a whole new world has opened to me. 

Now there are levels I can never dream to attain since they require Drugs and I wanted to see how far I can go naturally and thats what its about, Becoming the best me possible

I don’t workout for people to admire me 

I workout because I genuinely enjoy the affects it has on me. 

And if I can find a way to share and pass my enthusiasm to train onto others and make their lives better then I know it will all be worth it. It be nice to have a ton of people respect me for what I do but at the end of the day I do it because its fun. Thats a main reason I made my Youtube channel Its fun and I enjoy making people laugh and feel better about themselves haha

https://www.youtube.com/user/jaxblade07

Also I like to eat a lot

Common attitude to female having any life troubles = “Oh, this is a serious sociopolitical implication that automatically absolutely must be taken seriously. Srsly reblog, signal boost, god bless this post. Girl OP is such a brave soul! My inspiration <3”

Common attitude to guys having exactly the same life troubles =  "Your victim complex is pathetic.“

Really?

Seriously, tumblr, are we going to completely forget, that not ALL problems woman face are automatically sociopolitical implications, and that sometimes they are victim complexes as well?

People seem afraid to bring this issue up, of fear of being ‘patriarchy-sympathizers’ or whatever. But honestly, I’ve seen woman victim complexes being just as rampant as male victim complexes. If not, even more sometimes, because a lot of females know that they can just use the terms 'patriarchy’ or 'misogyny’ as buzzwords to make their victim complexes somehow more legitimate just because they have a vagina, even if the problem they face is exactly the same as the one’s male has.

A guy not calling you back, or that job you didn’t get because you didn’t meet the job criteria PALES IN COMPARISON to woman all around the world that actually do face actual LEGITIMATE oppression from the patriarchy, when they are solved as sex slaves and/or beaten daily.

Admittedly yes, the 'patriarchy’ is the cause of alot of shit for woman, I’m not denying that. However, you shouldn’t use it as a scapegoat for absolutely everything that never goes exactly your way, ever.

Firstly, there’s a very prominent 'cry wolf’ scenario arising from overusing this. You get taken far less seriously than you should, when it actually applies, because of all the times you grossly misused it constantly before. So really, it doesn’t actually help any progression at all, to even do this.

Secondly, this behavior and practice is extremely harmful. It trains woman to believe that they are entitled, it trains them to believe that they are infallible, and that anything they do wrong is never their fault, that they never have to self reflect or improve, because it’s always everyone else’s fault. Which is technically the same sense of entitlement and infallibility that feminism criticizes the patriarchy FOR, and makes guys introspect and self reflect upon themselves.

Not only is this extremely hypocritical, but you rule out the concept of a woman ever deciding for herself that sometimes, maybe, a situation might have been her fault, and she has the power to be grown up and adult, accept fault, learn from any mistakes she made, and carry on just that little bit wiser, rather than acting like a child and blaming the person next to them because she doesn’t want to admit she did wrong. Plenty of relationships have failed because the WOMAN has been in the wrong. She was the one who cheated, she was the passive aggressive perpetrator of a domestic violence situation, she was the one who scared off people because of HER lousy attitude she refuses to address. And teaching woman to be entitled does not help them, it just further harms their progress, because it just reinforces the vicious cycle.

TL;DR, but basically. Stop shouting 'patriarchy’ all the goddamn time, for things where it doesn’t actually apply. Well done, you’ve learnt a sociology term, good for you. But get this, your first world problems are often just as pathetic as any male victim complex. If we’re to teach men that they are self accountable and shouldn’t be entitled, we should teach woman the same thing. Otherwise you might as well change the legal system, to make woman void of any criminal accusation (like murder) in the eye of the law, because "IT IZ PATRIARCHY 2 JUDGE WOMAN FOR ANYFINK U MISOGYNIST LOL. GUY PROBABLY DESERVED 2 B KILLED 4 BREATHING IN HER AIR WITOUT CONSENT LOL PATRIARCHY”. That’s the route feminism is going.

Woman are not infallible, and should be accountable for their lousy behavior and actions.

Woman are not infallible, and should be accountable for their lousy behaviour and actions.

Woman are not infallible, and should be accountable for their lousy behavior and actions.

(p.s. imagine a scenario where the patriarchy is completely crushed and dismantled, what will you blame for your failings then?)

Fuck you and your shitty children too - Part 2

It is said that bad things come in threes. The second third of my bad things came in right before I got cut. Another party decided to relocate themselves to the patio. Started easy, with one woman and three small children ranging in ages from who-the-fuck-cares to why-do-I-do-this-to-myself. Then three more people join them - another woman and two more small children. I get them all drinks. Then two more join them, another woman and another small child. And then, defying explanation, four more people join them. And again, it’s another woman with three small children. 

That’s 13 people (counting children as people because I’m feeling generous tonight) and out of those 13 only 4 were adults. 

Then, once I got them settled enough to get the rest of the drinks ordered, I was cut.

NOBODY WOULD TAKE THIS PORTAL TO HELL OF A TABLE. 

So fine, I’ll deal with it. I got the drinks out to the patio - where truly evil people like to sit - and find obnoxious children running amok everyfuckingwhere. Another table said something to these women and were promptly told to deal with it. 

They did. By leaving. Thanks for the loss of business, bitches.

Here’s a quick rundown of the damage and annoyance caused by these stupid women and their stupid children:

  • Enough broken crayons left behind to set up an interesting death trap
  • 2 shitty diapers left open on the patio - 1 on a table
  • 4 ruined potted plants (they tore all the leaves off)
  • 1 bitter server
  • 3 spilled drinks
  • 4 complaints about the dumpster smell, while sitting next to a shitty diaper
  • 3 children hit by the patio door opening
  • roughly 759,542 tantrums

Now, as one would expect, no two things could be ordered at the same time. Meaning I ran approximately 3 miles just trying to keep up with these women and their miscreant spawn. Part of the job, I get that.

But when it came time to pay is when things got really interesting. 

I go back out (nearly swiping a future asshole with the door) and the women begin waving at me frantically - as though I would go on the patio for any reason unless I had to and they hadn’t driven every other table away. 

Woman 1: I don’t have enough to cover my check.
Me: That’s unfortunate.
Woman 1: Well I have to get a ride home too…so…I’ll just give you what I can.
Me: I’ll get you a manager.
Woman 2: She’s only short about $8. 
Me: That’s nice. I’ll get you a manager.
Woman 3: Why do you need to get a manager?
Me: So he can tell you that you owe the entire bill, not just a portion.
Woman 1: You won’t let me go $8 short?
Me: …no.

Now don’t get me wrong. Under normal circumstances I’d probably have told her to just get me back next time she’s in, $8 isn’t really too huge a deal. But these weren’t normal circumstances. This table had been the reason I was longing for the sweet release of death for the past hour and a half. Not to mention I already guessed I’d get nothing for a tip from the rest of the harpies so I didn’t exactly have a lot of incentive to go the extra mile or be helpful.

I get the manager. They try:

  • Whining about the smell trying to get a discount
  • Try the damsel in distress routine (this manager doesn’t play for that.)
  • Threaten to never return
  • Promising to return later to pay the rest

Eventually they negotiated this check down to the amount printed on the slip. They all scraped together just enough to cover all the checks (no tip, as predicted) and left through the restaurant - being sure to tell the hostess that they’ll NEVER EVER BE BACK - because as we all know the hostess fucking owns the restaurant and if they lose the small change these douchebags spend (and don’t manage to weasel out of) they personally take a hit in pay.

I’d love to say they were all dragged off to an internment camp somewhere and beaten daily for the rest of their lives, but that’s not how it went.

They left the restaurant…and just stood there out front. At first they were chatting it up and letting the kids tear up shit in front of the restaurant. Then they started to argue. It ended with them all shrieking profanities at one another over Christ only knows what - all while their children roamed aimlessly and annoyed people coming into and leaving the restaurant. Then finally, they all got in their vehicles and left. …so much for needing a ride…

Meanwhile, I was cleaning a mess that had me seriously contemplate quitting instead of cleaning it. The flower petals the kids had destroyed wouldn’t sweep up. I had to almost individually pick those little bastards up off the concrete. I refused to touch the fucking diapers. To hell with that shit. The manager ended up doing it.

I really hope they stay good to their word and NEVER RETURN.

Wouldn’t that be the day?

In ten more years I see those children, at a wizened 12 years old, being the ones sending anonymous hate mail to me people on the internet who don’t share the same views as them. Then the circle of sphincter will be complete, and they’ll be just like their parents…and naturally 98% of them will use Tumblr to do it. -J

anonymous asked:

You're always going on about how much you love "your authors" in your tags and you go freaking crazy whenever they post something new and I don't get it? I mean I understand liking fic, but why so much emotion? It just seems like a bit much.

I call them “my authors” because they are the authors I read most, that’s literally all. No weird possessive nonsense.

Ok, so here’s the thing, I love words/reading. Reading for me, is the same as someone else watching their favorite TV show, or having a drink/smoke. It’s how I relax, but more importantly, it’s how I comfort myself. I grew up in one of the worst neighborhoods in my state, and I was bullied, and beaten up daily, and it was awful. Ever since then, reading has been my escape.

I struggle with anxiety and depression and reading is my method of coping, which is the reason behind the admittedly large surplus of emotion surrounding the topic for me. Authors literally make my life better. They provide me with the tools necessary to maintain my mental health and the authors I dote upon on Tumblr DO IT FOR FREE(even though I would ABSOLUTELY AND HAPPILY pay them for what they do). So yeah, I feel like the least I can do is say thank you and leave a comment and maybe be a little bit too excited about their work, but for me its more than just a story, it’s a world I get to live in, even if just for a little while, and it makes the world I actually live in just that much more bearable.

I’m going to tag my favorite authors, but guys, please don’t feel obligated to respond to this in any way, I just want you guys to know why I’m a bit… eccentric. hahaha

@just-call-me-mrs-captain @holmesianpose @itsnotgonnareaditselfpeople @vex-by-any-other-name @caitlinisactuallyawritersname @mssmithlove1 @seraphazrael @lymphadei