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No one loves Davey more than Ben Fankhauser loves Davey

(From MTWichita on tiktok)

[1zzyth3wizzy]

ANYTHING JACK ANGST HCS OR FIC IDC

You guys just love to torture the poor guy, don't you 😭

- despite his popular reputation, a lot of the newsies actually don't like Jack. They feel that he's too in their business and bossy. Jack does this with kind intent of wanting to keep them safe. However, they just find Jack annoying and don't like him always bothering them about personal things.

- nightmares are a very common headcannon. However, I feel like they wouldn't stop there. Like Jack fully sees Michael standing there and looking at him whilst he's out selling. A few times , he's chased him and tried to get to him just to grab hold of nothing and receive concerned stares.

- due to being a newsie, Jack isn't very good with reading or writing, he acts like it doesn't bother him and nobody will ever know just how much it frustrates him and how angry and upset he gets when he cant spell a word or figure out the correct grammar

- his internalised homophobia is absolutely diabolical, like when he questions being gay he feels physically sick to his stomach, but he also knows he can't deny it

- sometimes he hears his mother's voice, but she'll say horrible things to him. He believes it's his mother seeking vengeance from the other side. However, it's just his evil imagination and self blame.

- A few mirrors in the lodging house have been smashed due to Jack looking into it and seeing his father's face

- Once Race came back from brooklyn really, really late, and when he got back, he found Jack in hysterics thinking he had another Michael situation

- Because he's not good at regulating his emotions, he will often lash out at really small things and get into silly arguments. A few times, he's done this mush or davey had started crying, and he just felt AWFUL

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Ok I know I say a lot of characters are “the character ever” and it’s true. About all of them. But rn I can’t stop thinking about Will Kempen. Holy shit.

**SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT BTW. READ DARK RISE WITHOUT SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T YET GUYS IM BEGGING YOU**

He’s the main protagonist. He’s the main antagonist. He’s a boy who has never had a friend, learning to have friends. He lives with the knowledge that if his friends knew who he was they would turn on him immediately. He’s falling in love with a boy. He already fell in love with him centuries before either of them were born. When the men hired to kill him caught up with him and his mother, she yelled “Run”. She was talking to the men. His mother had two other children, daughters. He longs for a sister. One of them died trying to kill him. His world is falling apart. It’s all his fault. He’s never done anything but try to fix it. He’s the most evil person to ever live. He’s so heartbreakingly good.

[1zzyth3wizzy]

I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. A guy asked me what the Spanish word for tortilla was once and now I dream of kissing him under the moonlight

[1zzyth3wizzy]

NEWSIES HEADCANONS:

1. Mush is literally the CLINGIEST person EVER, like if he likes you, that's it,he is physically latched onto you whenever you're around.

2. When race goes to see spot in his lodging house (he has to climb to up to a window so nobody sees), he always calls spot a princess in a tower and it drives him INSAINE.

3. Skittery is the typa guy to just randomly start laughing and giggling hysterically out of nowhere, and everybody just kinda stares at him (he's a little insaine, but that's okay)

4. Davey was on the debate team when he was at school, but his speeches were always too long, and he got frustrated when he couldn't get his point across fast enough ao he quit (that happened to me)

5. After almost every race, Race goes down and tries to convince the owner to let him go pet the horses,they only said yes once and he won't let it go

6. In Brooklyn, if somebody is refusing to get out of bed in the morning spot will literally just pick them up and throw them off the docs into the water outside 😭

7. Davey and his dad have the most unbreakable bond ever.

8. Jack picks up on 'fancy' words davey uses and then uses them incorrectly when talking.

9. Crutchie is the WORST sleep talker ever. He just babbles in his sleep but doesn't say anything that makes sense

10. Blink has no filter at all. The first thing that comes into hisbdead is said out loud. Good or bad.

[1zzyth3wizzy]

Hello fellow aspiring writers of tumblr!

I’m entering this short story/poem writing competition, and I wanted to share my entry for funsies!

Comments, criticism and tips appreciated!

A Nameless Dream.

Names are like power, tethering you to law, to memory, to history.

Names give you life - a life full of visibility.

Without one, you are invisible: a ghost in your own world.

Nameless souls are swept away, their lives left unfurled.

Without a name, there’s no right to luxury, to family, to dreams.

How can you carry importance, when your name is never seen?

_

The girl on the docks sat on top of the cracked stone walls, watching the ocean tides lap against ships in the bay. She was supposed to be working, lifting cargo from ships to the warehouse, but she didn’t worry about getting caught slacking off. No one called out for her. No one would.

Without a name, she was no more real than the frothing sea spray, soon to be dissolved back into the salty pools.

Nameless folk should never dare to dream, to see, to live. It would only wind them back into their own reality- one that would never exist once they die and barely exists even while they live.

Still, she dared to dream. To carve a name out for herself in a world that’s already forgotten her.

She dreams of not being lost in history.

Her parents died, just nine months ago, but they may as well have died a hundred years ago.

No name means no gravestone, no funeral, no memorial- no proof that they ever existed, other than the hollow echo of their absence.

Her brother went missing three years ago, swallowed by the city without a trace. Without a name, he could be anyone or no one. They never called for him. No one could. They couldn’t even remember what he looked like, much less find him in a crowd of forgotten souls.

The girl on the docks wonders where he could be.

Maybe he’s made a name for himself- a first, middle, and last name to match the life he’s carved out for himself in the city.

Or maybe he’s truly lost, like a whispered secret, another life that never touched anyone.

She refuses to be lost like that. She won’t die for nothing.

Not like her parents. Not like her brother.

She was raised on the streets, and she learned quickly that the world would leave you behind without a second thought.

She's sneaky. She knows how to slip through cracks, how to take what isn’t hers, how to steal a name and claim a life that doesn’t belong to her.

Maybe she’ll even kill for it. A bloodline for a bloodline. The price of being seen, of being real.

"Oi! Girl!"

Her head snapped around at the barked voice.

“Shift yer arse! These crates ain’t gonna move ‘emselves!”

She recognised him- Finnegan, one of the warehouse operators. He had a name, of course; you needed one if you wanted to be important enough to speak before spoken to.

She stared after Finnegan until the crowd swallowed him whole, his voice lost in the racket of the docks. Only then did she slip down from the cracked stone, her boots knocking against the loose boards as she made her way to the ships rolling in.

At the bay, it was worse.

Bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with sweat, salt, and the sour stench of cheap ale. She couldn’t take a step without being shoved into someone else, their laughter rattling in her skull, rough and loud and mean. It was like a venue of vultures, throwing their meal around before digging in with greed.

She ducked her head and kept moving, trying not to breathe too deep.

She eventually made it to the ships, docked as close as possible to the shore. She admired the vast expanse of the ship’s height against hers, feeling small next to something she works with every day.

“Oi, you!” Someone rapped on her shoulder harshly until she turned around. “Whatcha gotta do, is ya gotta climb up to that beam there-”

“I know how to do my job, thanks.”

He sneered. “Don't get cocky, rat. We all know how to do our jobs ‘ere. Some of us just need a little push.” And with that, he shoved her shoulder harder than needed, nearly sending her flying into the ships side.

Heat climbed up her neck and into her face. She ignored the laughs behind her and stepped closer to the ship.

She scaled the beam the man pointed to, like she'd done a thousand times before, palms blistering against rough rope. No applause. No thanks. Only another shout:

“Hurry it up, girl! We ain’t got all bloody day!”

She puffed her cheeks full of air and continued climbing up. Once she’d reached the top of the beam, she held herself in place with her legs and began tying one of the ships ropes around it. The ropes were thick as her arm, stiff with salt and stiff with wear, and she had to work them with raw fingers. She climbed around to other beams, tying and tethering ropes. A rope slipped under her hands, burning her palms, but she gritted her teeth and continued to climb down to the ships belly.

She ducked beneath low beams, slipping between barrels like an eel in the sea, looking for crates marked for offload. She found a bundle tied tight to prevent damage from sailing and quickly hoisted the ropes onto the pulley hook overhead.

When she heard more men coming onto the ship, she ducked down and started crawling through the rows of cargo to grab any valuables. She could climb into tight spaces that the bigger men couldn’t.

She fully leaned her body over a crate to reach another squeezed between the edge of the ship and a wooden post. Her feet left the ground, her torso and arm holding her up against the wood. She stuck her tongue out in concentration; if she lost her balance, she would go tumbling into the sea.

She stretched as far as she could, fingers grazing the rough wood of the next crate-

Until a shrill whistle cut through the air.

“Nice view, girly!” someone called, his voice thick with mockery. Another barked out a laugh.

Before she could react, she felt a hand swipe at her backside.

She jerked away, gasping.

“Get your hands off me, you revolting sod!”

The world tilted.

For a heartbeat she hung, weightless, between the dock and the sea- and then someone grabbed her collar and yanked her back against the ship. The men roared with laughter.

“Careful now, sweetheart," one cackled. "Wouldn’t want ye swimmin’ with the fishies, would we?”

She finished her job, face red with anger, embarrassment, shame. If she had a name, she wouldn’t be ashamed. She wouldn’t be wounded up with this horrid dock job. She wouldn’t be working with these rotten lunatics. She would be in the city, signing papers with her own signature, throwing parties under her family name, changing her maiden name when the time of marriage comes.

If she had a name, she would be alive.

_

Criticism and tips appreciated!!

-Izzy 😛

[1zzyth3wizzy]

Proving a point to my boyfriend.

PLEASE REBLOG if you (male or female) believe it is perfectly okay and natural for a guy of any age to cry

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EMETEPHOBIA IS A REAL THING, PEOPLE. VERY REAL.

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FUUUUCK....... i sure could go for a Nice, Cold, and Refreshing glass of

Ice Water

right about now.......

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Finally posting this image I made after @glass-coffin-will-graham called @jaybirdscoffee a Spracist last week. I think it speaks for itself.

[1zzyth3wizzy]

School marking :(

I am so upset right now, I just got my marks back for my English assignment (a feature article on Animal Farm and how it reflects in today's society). And I got a B.

Now, I know a B is still a good mark and that it's hard to get A's, but I usually get straight A's in English. On my rubric, all of the tabs are weighted the same in marking, and I got 7 A standard marks and 6 B standard marks. Usually, this would result in an A-. But it didn't. There's also this slider thing that shows how high your mark is out of 100, and it was WAAAAY too high to not be an A.

I worked my ass off for 6 weeks, constantly checking with the teacher and my peers if I could improve anything. And my teacher said, "You should expand more on the second topic" I WOULD, but the word limit is only 800, and I was already 50 words over.

It is unusual for me to get B's in English. I'm aware that I should take this with a grain of salt and accept that I didn't get the mark I thought I deserved, but I genuinely think that this assignment deserved better marking. The marking hasn't been moderated yet, so it might change, but I don't know.

I'm really upset with my mark and myself, because I know I could have done better and I could have gotten full A's. I worked too hard to get a B.

I'm gonna ask my teacher tomorrow why I got the mark I did, but I don't think it will change anything.

Anyways if anyone saw this then thanks for listening to my yap session :)

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To all the people who have made fun of me because I’m short:

My time will come.

Be prepared.

[1zzyth3wizzy]

Hi first post umm

Look at the henrys henries henr h the hens

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THE COLLECTION IS COMPLETE

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‘I will find you,’ Anharion said. ‘I will always find you. Try to run.’

OH.

MY.

GOD.

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help i have my first ballet class in 8 years tomorrow and I have no clue what I'm doing and im scared that the girls there are gonna make fun of me because im like 2 years older than them and look like a lunatic

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I was just looking back at the beginning of Dark Rise for fan art purposes and so many seemingly innocuous sentences just keep popping out at me now omfg.

"He knew how to alter knots to make them slip."