#Guilty By Newsboys

[pray-like-nehemiah]

Christian Songs

Comment Or Reblog With 10 or More Christian Songs You Love

Father Jesus Spirit By Fred Hammond

God Only Knows By For King & Country

Goodbye Yesterday By Elevation Rhythm

Guilty By Newsboys

Haven't Seen It By Danny Gokey

Here As In Heaven By Elevation Worship

I Believe It (The Life Of Jesus) By Jon Reddick

My God Is Still The Same By Sanctus Real

Thrive By Casting Crowns

Trust In God By Elevation Worship

[brucedinsman]

Today's Theme Song: Guilty

  Artist: Newsboys album: “Love Riot” (2016) “Guilty” When did it become breaking a ruleTo say your name out loud in schoolWhen your name’s the only one that sets us free?When did it become incorrectTo speak the truth about life and deathWhen your life gave us all eternity?Even if it gets me convictedI’ll be on my knees with my hands liftedIf serving you’s against the law of manIf living out my…

[daletrabr]

Confira a letra da música “Guilty” de Newsboys

[unknownperson246]

A cutsey fic about a fem reader and modern Izzy dating??

Modern Izzy: Ladies First

Words: 541

Warnings: *Fluff* *Age Gap*

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You and Izzy have been dating for around two months, and you guys have a 39-year age gap. You're 23 and he is 62. You both love each other a lot, and Izzy thinks you are the one. 

Izzy is at home, sitting on the couch in his sheepish posture, watching you enter. You walk quickly inside your house like you are excited about something. Izzy is reading something in a magazine.

You greet him with the words, "Hey, Iz! What are you doing, babe?"

Izzy responds, “Just read this section from a magazine. It's about how to keep your lady happy.”

He looks up at you from his magazine, and his eyes are now on you with solace and a gentle, tender expression.

"Hey, babe, since you're home, you want to go out?” He asks in a soft tone while removing himself from the sheepish position he was in before.

”Sure, honey!” You say it very excitedly.

Izzy gets up and goes to your guy’s room and grabs his slightly wrinkled white shirt, the one he would always wear because it's a neutral color, and he lays it out in a cautious manner, trying not to wrinkle it further on the bed. He sprays Gucci Gucci guilty on his neck and his wrists before picking up the shirt and putting it on attentively. He quickly grabs his aviators from the vanity, grabs his newsboy cap, and puts both the hat and the sunglasses on as he heads out of the room to the living room, where you stand.

”Where did you want to go, darling?” You ask him while he puts his pants on in front of you. 

“I was thinking maybe go out to eat at your favorite restaurant? If you are hungry,” he quickly pecks your nose with a soft kiss. 

"Yes, and maybe after dinner we could go to the store across the street and shop in that cute little store. What is it called again?” You ask Izzy in a shy manner.

“7/11?” Izzy smirked.

“Quit it,” you say as you chuckle.

Izzy finishes getting ready, and he sees you have not even started the process of getting ready. Izzy looks through your guy’s closet, and he pulls out a cute little white dress.

He asks, “Can I help you change, darling?"

You consent by saying "Yes."

He pulls off the light green dress you were wearing for work. He quickly glances at your delicate build, and as he slips off your clothes, he finds you the most beautiful woman in the universe. He quickly slips on the white cotton dress on you.

“Are you ready, babe?” He asks softly.

He gently caresses your hand. You and Izzy link arms while you walk to the car. Izzy walks over to the passenger seat of his 1961 Mustang. 

“Ladies first,” he declares with a small chuckle.

You uttered a small “thank you, Iz."

Before closing the door, he gives you a small peck on the lips. "You're welcome any time, honey,” he says in his soft, husky midwestern accent.

Once you guys get to your favorite restaurant, he opens the car door for you. 

He says “ladies first” in his soft voice, which is like honey.

[leonenjoyer69]

Okay so– In an au where both Elias and Whole Jekyll exist, what would Elias think of Whole Jekyll and vice-versa?

Also, would a Mind Elias exist at one point :0???

GREAT QUESTIONS MINT, HEHE >:3

First of all, theoretically, this could totally happen in the same universe, since it was decided that using the wrong salts allows Harry to take control... as a plus, Jekylls Mindscape would even be in better shape, since Hyde wouldn't have his temper tantrums! Maybe Mind Lanyon wouldn't lowkey fade away/die, too 💀💀 But, anyways--

(Forgot to add a cut before, so here's one now since this is long lmao)

Honestly, Elias would probably pity tf out of Whole Jekyll, while also kinda fearing him. Like, Jekyll or Hyde go to switch back but use the wrong salts and suddenly there's this weird combination of the two hunched over in pain instead. He explains that he's basically the original Jekyll and stuff from before the potion and immediately talks about how he intends to reverse the potion and become whole again, bc Jekyll and Hyde are both still hanging around in the mirror/Mindscape. Of course Elias doesn't really want him to reverse the potion at all, because that means he'd reverse Lanyons too, and he doesn't wanna die. He also likes hanging out with Jekyll and Hyde and seeing their differences and such. But, on the other hand, a small part of him does kinda want Jekyll to be happy and whole again, and this Harry guy seems to have gone through a decent bit. Plus, now Jekyll and Hyde are trapped away and Harry won't let them have control (tho in a combined au maybe he would, since Jekyll and Hyde get along better once Lanyon splits and knows about them? Idk, probably not without some serious convincing)

Elias still tries to spend as much time with Harry as possible, somewhat happy to see Harry actually kinda take care of himself, but also there's the not great occasions where Harry is fighting with his other halves (who he lowkey kinda hates. I don't think I've talked about it much, but I have/still do pull some things from Chonny Jash's Soul, since he was basically the whole inspiration for Harry in the first place lmao). He feels really bad for the 3 of them and kinda just wants to be there to provide any sort of comfort.

Harry would probably feel immensely guilty that Lanyon had to get split to, avoiding Elias as much as he can (which isn't really a whole hell of a lot, Elias is very persistent, and Harry can only take so much of his sad face). Like, he certainly wouldn't hate Elias, that's still a part of Lanyon after all, but he just feels so bad about it half the time. He certainly prefers Lanyons company, especially because of the comfort his presence provides him (and bc they probably at least mostly reconciled and are mayhaps dating again). Otherwise Harry spends a decent bit of his time researching how to undo the potion and such (which Elias will lowkey try to lightly sabotage sometimes, yk, so he doesn't have to remerge, or it at least takes longer.) And trying to keep his two halves in check.

Otherwise!!! When you ask about a mind Elias, 3 things come to mind, so:

A mind version of Elias in Jekylls Mindscape: honestly, I think the closest to a mind Elias Jekyll would get is just Mind Lanyon gaining more of Elias's features, I don't feel like there'd be a whole entity for him, but yeah. You know how mind Lanyon loses his face and such when Jekylls perception of him gets messed up? Yeah, I kinda just imagine that except instead of looking his face he just adopts some of elias's features (which mind Lanyon does NOT like, and it also really throws Harry off while he's still in the Mindscape)

Mind clothes and such for Elias in Lanyons Mindscape: yes, he absolutely has a silly little set of clothes for the mind scape (which I really need to come up with and draw frfr). Idk why, but my first thought is that he has a cloak in the Mindscape, for some reason. Also really wanna put him in one of those newsboy hats..

A "whole" version of Lanyon- theoretically, probably yes, but since he's so fresh and Lanyon doesn't have the multitude of issues Jekyll has, it's really Just Lanyon chilling in his fancy little Mindscape probably. But, also, my brain is kinda wanting to say that there's not a whole Lanyon, and that the potion Lanyon took actually worked a bitttt closer to the way Jekyll intended it, gathering all the things one hates about them self and giving it it's own identity, while leaving the original person practically unchanged. Like, with Jekyll and Hyde I feel like it did literally split Jekyll, leaving Jekyll himself changed in ways while also giving Hyde everything that was at least partially changed, but amped up by tenfold.

ANYWAYS, THAT'S ALL I HAVE FOR THIS RN >:3 I have a bajillion OTHER things on Harry at the ready tho, (thank you Mint for asking things about him and letting me ramble on discord, hehe >:3) so like, say the magic word and I've got a dozen little things to dump about him, from straight lore to little quirks to other character's reactions to him while he's in control :33 Also thank you for the ask Mint! I would never have thought of this without being prompted tbh (sorry if some parts of this post may be a bit nonsensical tho, my brain go brrrr and sometimes I apparently completely forget how the characters I made act 💀) but yeah!!!! Thank you, I'm loving all the OC asks >:3

[doyourememberrocknrollradio]

Newsboys - Guilty 

[dyxtd21]

Strawberry Quartz aesthetic moodboard!!

Strawberry Quartz:

Strawberry Quartz stands tall at 6 feet 1 inch, adorned in dark academia attire: a tie-neck blouse, a long trench coat, slacks, heeled Mary Janes, and a newsboy cap, with a messenger bag slung over her shoulder. Her long, wavy hair cascades down to her calves, tied at the end. Her colouration is characterized by a white base adorned with red freckles or spots, with dark red strawberry-shaped birthmarks on each cheek. Her drop-cut gemstone rests on her right palm.

Personality-wise, she exudes spirit and independence, with a penchant for musicals and an unusual fixation on strawberries, inherited from her "father," Lemon Quartz. Optimistic and idealistic, she believes in the shades of grey that colour the world rather than seeing things in black and white. Playful and goofy when the mood strikes, she embodies a fun-loving demeanour.

Strawberry Quartz's merits:

1. Acute Sense: You have exceptionally sharp hearing, smell, vision, or taste. (Smell and taste)

2. Approachable: There's something very inviting and non-threatening about you. People find you very easy to start a conversation with.

3. Bardic Gift: Gifted by the Muses, you sing sweetly, plan an instrument divinely and speak with passion and eloquence.

4. Concentration: You have the ability to focus your mind and shut out any distractions or annoyances.

5. Cupid's Gift: You're unusually seductive. It isn't so much that you're fair or quick of wit (though you may be) - you simply possess a certain animal charm that few can resist.

6. Eidetic Memory: You can remember things seen and heard with perfect detail.

7. Enchanting Gaze: You've got the most fascinating eyes. People find it hard to avoid them. Even if your gaze is sort of… unearthly… it's most seductive.

8. Enchanting Voice: There is something about your voice cannot ignore. When you command, they are cowed. When you seduce they swoon. Whether thunderous, gentle, pausing or simply talking, your voice commands attention.

9. Entrepreneur: Making money comes easy to you & you know what it takes to succeed in business.(Strawberry jams, strawberry perfumes and anything with or about strawberries)

10. Friendly Face: You have a face that remained everyone of someone, to the point where strangers are inclined to be well-inclined toward you because of it.

11. Harmless: Everyone in the city knows you, and knows that you’re no threat to their plans. While that sort of estimation may seem insulting, it’s also what kept you from being killed.

12. Higher Purpose: You have a goal that drives and directs you in everything. (Proving that the world view isn't always "black-and-white." That the world view is in the "gray" areas, in between or both)

13. Jack-of-all-Trades: You have a large pool of miscellaneous skills and knowledge obtained through your extensive travels, the jobs you’ve held or just all-around know-how.

Strawberry Quartz's Flaws:

1. Addiction: You suffer from an addiction to a substance or something else. (An addiction to anything strawberries)

2. Bad Liar: You have tremendous trouble lying. The spontaneous excuses that you come up with are usually unbelievably elaborate or easily refuted with the bare modicum of research. While telling a prefabricated lie, you stutter, stammer, blush or generally look guilty.

3. Big Mouth: You talk too much, and it gets you in trouble. You tend to blurt out painful truths at inopportune times.

4. Curiosity: You are naturally curious and find mysteries of any sort irresistible. In most circumstances, you find that your curiosity easily overrides your common sense.

5. Driving Goal: You have a personal goal, which sometimes compels and directs you in starting ways. The goal is always limitless in depth, and you can never truly achieve it. (Tied with her "Higher Purpose" merit)

6. Mistaken Identity: You look similar to another gemstone, and are mistaken for her, much to your chagrin. (Strawberry Aura Quartz)

7. Naïve: You see the world in rose-colored hues. Your privileged upbringing makes you all too ready to accept others as kind and caring. You are always the last to suspect foul play or bad intent on the part of another, and this can get you in real trouble.

8. Soft-Hearted: You can not stand to watch others suffer.

Headcanon voice: Anna Kendrick

[kellyscowboy]

꒰✧ᯇ✦꒱ DON'T BE SORRY FOR LEAVING AND GROWING OLD || ch. 1

ᯇ summary ! ✦ Jack Kelly finally gets out of New York and makes something of himself. Though, he's never been good at goodbyes and David won't answer his letters. || read full thing on ao3 now WRITTEN FOR THE NEWSIES FIC EXCHANGE ᯇ tag list ! ✦ @bound-for-santa-fe @bunniebusiness @hotelbxllamuerte (taglist form is in my pinned post if you would like to be added!!) GIFT FOR @daveysjackie !! (sorry for the tag) ᯇ warnings ! ✦ cussing & angst 1230 WORDS © 2023 , 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲

next part

“Were you ever going to tell me, Jack?” David asked. His lip was in a deep pout, and his hand was placed disappointedly, loosely, on his hip.

Jack bit his nail nervously. “Uh-huh.” It was a lie and they both knew it. In fact, not a single person was meant to know. Jack was supposed to quietly slip away in the middle of the night and never have to face the sorrow of a goodbye. It had been a solid plan, until Racetrack had found the ticket underneath his pillow.

They had been arguing for a while when Racetrack punched him and left a nice shiner on his cheekbone. “You’re a coward,” He screamed. And he was right, Jack knew as much. He was a coward.

“I don’t owe you anything!” Jack yelled. I owe him everything. “What have you, what have any of the newsboys done for me? Huh?”

There was a festering bubble of guilt that steadily grew inside of Jack. The newsboys had done more for him than his own family had. They had taken him in. They had saved him from himself after he had been in the refuge. Quite frankly, he owed them his life.

In his mind, these were valid reasons for him to not say goodbye. They were a family. He knew that if he ever told them that he was leaving, that he would never make it to Santa Fe. Jack would be tied to New York forever. He couldn’t risk that; he couldn’t risk staying there any longer. It would destroy him.

“Whatever, Jack. Who needs you, anyway?” Racetrack had half the mind to rip up the ticket, to force the boy to stay. “Wouldn’t be the first time you left us in the dust.” He honestly believed he never wanted to see Jack’s face ever again. Conflicted with his feelings of betrayal and hatred, he spat at Jack’s shoes.

Jack was quiet for a couple of seconds. “You’re not gonna tell anyone, right?”

“No. No, I won’t tell no-one. On the promise that you never show your ugly mug back here ever again.” Race dug a finger into the boy’s chest. “You’re gonna hurt everyone who ever had faith in you. And I hope you never feel anything but guilty for it.”

After that, everything was fine. No-one else knew, and he could still slip away without having to say goodbye.

Then, the day before he left, David let his curiosity get the best of him. In the middle of the line at the circulation gate. “Hey, Jack. I’ve been meaning to ask, where’d the bruise come from?”

Jack saw the finish line stretch farther away, felt the bubble of guilt in his stomach begin to expand. It had been a couple of days since he got it, and he was riding on the fact that everyone was too scared to ask. Leave it to David and his stupid words. “Oh, uh-”

“Yeah, Jackie. Why don’tcha share with the fellas, huh? Where’d you really get the shiner?” Racetrack interrupted. “Or should I tell ‘im the truth myself?”

David gave him a sideways look. “Jack? What’s he talking about?”

“I dunno. You know Racer, he’s always yappin’ on about something. Don’t mind him. He don’t know what he’s talkin’ bout.” Jack threw an arm around David’s shoulder and gave him a small grin.

Racetrack scoffed, then shoved the boy away from David. He replaced Jack’s arm with his own. “You want to know why Jack’s been acting so weird?” He gave a few pats to David’s pec over his shoulder before he pointed at Jack with the same hand. “Why he ain’t been around so much?”

“Um…” He looked at Jack and wished he could ignore the guilty look the boy wore. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Well! Our Jackie boy—he’s got himself a one-way ticket to Santa Fe, New Mexico.” Racetrack stated, then gave David a sarcastic smile. “Ain’t that nice? He’s catchin’ the 8 o’clock train tonight.”

Les shook his head. “Jack wouldn’t. He wouldn’t! ‘Specially not without saying goodbye! Right, Jack?” Jack looked like a dog with its tail between its legs as he avoided Les’ gaze. “Jack?”

That’s where he found himself. His nails bitten and David demanding the truth.

“Don’t lie to me, Jack.” David said. “Please. Don’t lie.”

Jack frowned. “I just-”

“Just what, Jack? Just didn’t think we deserved the decency of a goodbye?” David yelled. “You know, every single one of us has had your back since the day we met you. I blindly helped you lead a fucking strike. And even after you abandoned us—for the first time, I guess—we all came together and helped you. We at least deserve a goodbye.”

Jack’s hands swung helplessly at his side. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Deep down, he knew David was right. But he couldn’t admit that. Not there, not now. So, he deflected. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone, Racer.”

“Well, excuse me. I didn’t realize the breaking of trust had to be one sided in this ‘friendship.’ You’re full of it,” Racetrack said.

“Don’t get mad at Racetrack because you’re a shitty friend.”

“I’m the shitty friend? I finally get a chance to get out, to be in the place I’ve dreamed of since I was a kid. And all you care about is the fact that I was too busy to think about saying goodbye? You should be happy for me, David! All of you should be!”

Racetrack scoffed. “Don’t pretend like you just forgot to tell us, Jack. We ain’t stupid.”

“Why would I be happy for you? You’re leaving behind everything that was ever good to you.” David said. “You’re going to ruin yourself, Jack Kelly.”

“Yeah, well.” Jack looked David up and down before staring at him. “I’m also leaving behind everything that was ever bad to me."

"Really? When have we ever been bad to you?"

Jack was silent for a moment. "Didn't ya always say I could be something more? That my art could get me somewhere? What happened to that, Dave?"

"You can be something more here, Jack-"

"No. I can't! You don't get it!" Jack's face was red as he yelled.

"No! I don't! I don't get why you have to go halfway across the country just to paint!" David yelled back. 

"I ain't got no inspiration out here, Dave!"

David frowned. "Really, Jack?"

"You can't find no inspiration in us, Cowboy? Really? After everything we've done together?" Racetrack was livid. "We took down the biggest paper company there is, and you can't find any fucking inspiration in us?"

"No. I can't."

"You're unbelievable." David scoffed. "I just can't understand you!"

"Whatever, Dave. Who needs the lot of ya?"

Jack angrily stomped his way to Wiesel and bought his paper. He let the Delancey brothers’ snide remarks consume him. The bubble in his stomach grew bigger.

Jack made one fatal mistake; he turned around for one last glance at the boys. Racetrack and David were seething, they had their fists tightly clenched together and were biting down on the inside of their cheeks.

And Les looked up at him with big eyes, wide with betrayal and disbelief. His usual wonder-struck gaze filled with sorrow. The bubble in his stomach popped, and he walked away into his new life without another word.

[zannolin]

1 3 and 19!!! 🎧🎶

1. three songs that come up when you put your phone on shuffle

please forgive me. i do not have music on my phone. i will instead put my gen 4 ipod nano (main playlist one not to be confused with my second gen 4 ipod nano exclusively for my 80s playlist) on shuffle.

"message from pegasus" steve mcdonald

"main title" wizard of oz

"knowing me, knowing you" abba

i feel like this exposes things about me i wasn't ready to have exposed.

3. three songs you were recently obsessed with

no repeats so i won't say "pink pony club" by chappell roan tho that does count. since it says "were" i will also not include "the moment of truth" by survivor or "against the wind" by bob seger. what does that leave me with. let's see.

"17th street treatment centre" john k. samson (this man's music blows my brains out)

"linger" the cranberries (oooaarrruughhghg)

"american teenager" ethel cain (still looping it. tbh.)

19. three songs that are your guilty pleasure

ohhhh. well. hm. promise me you won't judge me okay i can't control my upbringing.

"so many books" michael card (LISTEN. listen. sometimes i just have to listen to christian songs from my childhood this one bangs it's so jangly i love it. am i singing it about the bible no. but i DO have so many books and so little time.)

"breakfast" the newsboys (this is literally just another christian song from my childhood that i'm obsessed with. there's a lot of them.)

"stay for awhile" amy grant (hey would you look at that it's ANOTHER chr- [i am forcibly removed from the stage for having poor music taste and failing atheism) (this is a joke) (i don't even know if i'm an atheist) (whatever it's a DAMN good song y'all)

song asks!

[trishabaro]

5IVE LITERARY THEORIES FROM PHILIPPINE AUTHORS

1.) What must be believed in | Ang dapat paniwalaan by Jose F. Lacaba

Myth Theory

- This poem is like a first person perspective about how his grandma always used to telll him stories about mythical creatures such as ghouls, gratifies, trolls, orges, vampire and witches. But long after his grandma passed away, he later finally learned what that the thing that every man should believe to be afraid of are fellow man “That this man that every man must fear, and against man prayers are no avail”

2.) Force of Circumstance | Santong Paspasan by Jose F. Lacaba

Freudian

- This poem contains like sexual descriptions like how a girl named Maritess who used to be like “the virginal Susan Roces” which I think means like pure and clean, but she then was gang raped by five men which includes a son of a congressman and its four members. She then now look like “the villainous Bella Flores.” It describes how Maritess was sexually assaulted. However, after she was released, her boyfriend got upset and drunk, while the police didn’t do anything about it “cops jerked themselves off”

3.) Night of a Construction Worker | Gabi ng Isang Piyon by Lamberto E. Antonio

Marxist

- Poem made by Lamberto Antonio are usually about the poor and the oppressed peasants he met is his youth. This poem is about how a construction worker who works so hard that he’s getting a lot of bruises, and cuts just for him to get exploited by labor contractor and greedy right-hand man. Additionally, he only receives a salary that could barely support and feed his family.

4.) On the Death of a Newspaper Delivery boy | Sa Pagkamatay ng Isang Newsboy by Lamberto E. Antonio

Marxist

- This poem describes the situation of a boy, how he works at such a young age by delivering newspaper house to house every morning just so he could have some money to buy himself clothes and food. This shows how there are poor people or even kids struggle from poverty and going around working so hard to survive just for them to be mistreated, like the child described in the poem, how he died by some reckless driver.

5.) Mareng Mensiya by Fanny A. Garcia

Jungia

- This poem is about Mareng Mensiya who works at houses as a servant while her daughter Mely isn’t concerned with her mother, but only visits her whenever she needs money. Aling Sela, the person Mareng Mensiya served for the longest that stopped to treat her with love, care, and respect. Because she got envious with Mely only for her to realize that after Mensiya died, all of Mensiya’s contributions went to Aling Sela. Sela and Mely felt guilty afterwards about how they treated Mensiya. This kinds of situation are common in today’s society especially when a lot of people suffer from poverty nowadays, mothers work as house keepers to well-off people while others such as their family or relatives depend on them financially.

[elune-shatterstone]

Whoooo here we go

Valhalla Calling- Miracle of sound

Dance Monkey- Tones and I

Tightrope- The Greatest Showman movie soundtrack

White 'n Nerdy

Amish Paradise

The Saga Begins- Weird Al Yankovic

Somebody's watching me- Rockwell

Astronaut in the Ocean- MaskedWolf

Iron Man- Black Sabbath

Sing for the Moment

Venom- Eminem

Arcade- Duncan Lawrence

Just Pretend- Bad Omens

Informer- Snow

Feel good Inc.

Dare- Gorillaz

Waterworks- Bernith

Duality

Before I Forget

Circle

Vermillion part 2

Psychosocial

Pulse of the Maggots

3 nil- Slipknot

Bones

Wrecked- Imagine Dragons

Mask- Dream (I don't like dream just the song)

Literally the entire og Doom soundtrack

Major Tom- Peter Schilling

Brother

Graveyard Shift- Doctor Siren

Wellerman- Nathan Evans

Soldier Poet King- The Oh Hellos

Shatter Me- Lindsey Sterling

Through Glass- Stone Sour

Amber- 311

Xelqua- Elune Shatterstone

Faded

Fake a smile

Darkside- Allan Walker

Time Warp- The Rocky Horror Picture Show

*insert obligatory Rickroll*

TNT

Thunderstruck- AC/DC

Everything- Diamond Eyes

Burike no Dance

Sthlm Sunset- Ehrling

Howling- Lupus Nocte

Portal

Work

The Goat Tapes- Jono

Lucky Man- The Verve

Hermitgang- Team S.T.A.R.

Two Birds- Regina Spektor

Level Up- Antvenom

Dancin- CG5 cover

Guilty- Newsboys

The Mountain- Three days grace

Kryptonite- 3 doors down

Airplanes- B.O.B.

Anonymous M- Hatsune Miku

Okay! That's the list! 😅 Um I'm gonna tag @sweetest-honeybee @devilart2199-aibi @dragonheart2497 @fakezircon @wassup-its-e @made-nondescript @linktoo-doodles @janecat31121 @rhapsoddity @doctorsiren @iamfluffle

Hey eyeone! I want to know what your favorite songs are, if you see this post you are CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGATED to reblog with at least 1 song you have listened to and enjoyed but if you have more you'd like to share then go ahead! Also tag your friends!

I'll start, I'm going to list 5 of my favorite songs

Dr Sunshine Is Dead by Will Wood

134340 Pluto by Cojum Dip

Vulture by Bear ghost

Dear John by I monster

And finally: playing places: Oceans by Cosmo Sheldrake

Here's the people I want to tag

@f4y3w00d5 @ashen-the-tiefling @terrencetheshark14 @underpaid-guard @blacktipreefsharkwizard @the-gnomish-bastard @thatgayforkcrow @lixorloveslicorice @yourlocalbreadenthusiast @agentldiddy @aileaxthevoidien @slutty-wizard-council @monsterfucker-research-wizard and anyone else who wants to play!!!

[ao3feed-newsies]

Burn High Your Fires

by, glitter_ink by glitter_ink At the age of 15, Jack Kelly is found guilty and given a fifty-day sentence at the infamous House of Refuge reformatory on Randall's Island, just outside the city. Formerly known as the privileged and prosperous newsboy from Duane Street, Jack now finds himself confined within the very prison he had vowed to avoid. Far away from his friends and sister, he is now one of the countless children swallowed whole by the complex New York penal system. As he progresses from his first night to his eventual escape, Jack discovers how to navigate this unfamiliar environment governed by strict codes of conduct and puritanical rules. Along the way, he meets kids with different stories who surprise him with small gestures of kindness, valuable life lessons, and simple acts of friendship. This story, filled with heartrending, infuriating, and occasionally darkly humorous moments, offers a glimpse into the experiences of young people within the Refuge. It delves into the reasons behind gilded age society's decision to lock away so many children and explores their journey during their time there. The tale draws inspiration from various historical sources, including newspaper articles, exposés, court records, and personal memoirs. Words: 11033, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies: The Broadway Musical! (2017) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/M, Multi Characters: Jack Kelly (Newsies), Snyder (Newsies), Kloppman (Newsies), Sarah Jacobs (Newsies), Medda Larkson | Medda Larkin, Spot Conlon, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s) Relationships: Sarah Jacobs/Jack Kelly (Newsies), Jack Kelly (Newsies)/Original Female Character(s), Jack Kelly (Newsies)/Original Male Character(s), Original Male Character(s)/Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Original Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Pyrrhic Victory, Prison Industrial Complex, Alternate History, Romance, Angst, Drama, Edwardian Period, Victorian, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Alternate Universe - Edwardian, Not A Fix-It, Historical, Historical References, Historical Dress, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Historical Accuracy, New York City, 19th Century, Historical Figures, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Family Loss, Found Family, Drama & Romance, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse read : https://ift.tt/3pF50Ct - August 27, 2023 at 01:36AM

[davidbaird1970]

Guilty (Standing For Christ) - Newsboys

5–14-2023 14:47

K-LOVE KLOVERadio

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Apple AppleMusic

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MC Music Choice

Contemporary Christian

[dopebonksaladfarm]

Crime

(Warning: contains mentions of underaged drinking, sexual assault, and gang-related activities)

“John,” “Isaac croaked out, as John had him in a headlock.  “you crossed the fucking line, puta!”

Despite having one finger missing and a nail cut in half, Isaac managed to scratch up John’s arm quite a bit. Isaac was trying to keep the balance, given that they were both on wet tiled floors. He really wished that John didn’t fight with him in the men’s shower room of all places. You didn’t have a fork to stab your opponent in the eye with, a book to slam into their head, or even clothes to protect yourself from their attacks.

But Isaac knew especially well that no criminal has any real code of honor in a fight. John was no exception to this rule. It was the morning of that day when it had all happened.

“Wake up sleepy asshole,” Isaac said, shaking his half asleep friend Robert in their juvie cell. “You’re the only dude in this hellhole who can get us to the Seven Eleven.”

“If this is your attempt to get beer before your eighteen birthday,” Robert responded. “I ain’t coming.”

“Ok yeesh, we’ll get slurpees. Maybe you can meet that hella cute cashier again.”

Robert’s eyes widened at what Isaac had suggested, chuckling as he agreed to go along with his little game.

Thanks to Robert’s breaking in skills, it was a rather quick trip from the juvenile prison to the convenience store, both Robert and Isaac coming back to their cells with drinks without anyone else noticing. As they joked about their school years together, an unwelcoming figure named John walked by.

“Hey punks,” John said, getting menacingly close to Robert. “Thought you came back with some free corna.”

“Get lost jack-off.” Robert retorted.

During their confrontation, Isaac kept his lips sealed shut. He knew that John and Robert used to be buddies, but didn’t know any of the details. But he did know one thing.

“If it wasn’t for you screwing up that break-in,” John shouted, “we wouldn’t be in this crappy prisonhole.”

“If you didn’t fucking roofyed a girl,” Isaac shouted, using his body as shield for Robert. “You wouldn’t have been left here to rot as a friendless shitstained puta!”

Even as Isaac’s head spun as he remembered why he got into this situation, he still didn’t regret a word he said to that grease worm named John.

 “Really bold of you to talk about that, considering what you did right on the border”. John said, retorting back to what Isaac had previously said.

That’s when his head became a blur as he flashed back to his memories as a dealer and a hitman. In a dead street at midnight, Isaac pulled the trigger over a battered newsboy, resulting in a bloody mess too traumatic for his guilty conscience to remember clearly. I knew he could have avoided getting into that mess, to be stronger than the previous trauma in his life.

But instead, Isaac had forsaken a fulfilling life for a particularly shady friend. A friend, whom instead of really standing up for him in the face of bullies, gave him narcotics to deal with the pain. A friend who  instead of encouraging him to be successful, brought him over the borders to be in a gang. The stress of that past event was enough for Isaac to throw John off of him, holding him down on the ground by his neck. Isaac didn’t count how many punches John had gotten, only that John was bruised and half conscious when Isaac was pulled away from him by a guard.

[frankendykes-monster]

Out of genuine desire I tried looking up anything credited to Stan Lee in between 1941 - 1961 and consistently drew up blanks. Conversely for Kirby I can name like 20 separate titles he worked on in that time frame including Blue Bolt, Captain America Comics, The Vision in Marvel Mystery Comics, Boy Commandos, Newsboy Legion, The Sandman in Adventure Comics, Young Love and Young Romance, Black Magic, Police Trap, Justice Traps The Guilty, Black Magic, Boy's Ranch, Bullseye, The Strange World of Your Dreams, Fighting American, Stuntman, Challengers of The Unknown, and the SkyMasters comic strip. All prior to the debut of The Fantastic Four in November 1961, by Kirby and Lee.

I recently got a Comics Journal publication collecting most of their major coverage of Kirby and my mistake tonight was reading the "who is the author of Marvel?" article. Collected in the same book is the 1990 published interview with both Jack and Roz Kirby by Gary Groth, that to this day "lives rent free" in the heads of many a people as if this is the first interview Kirby ever held for a publication of this type or the first time he ever made any of these statements.

The "author" article by Earl Wells comes to the Stan Lee conclusion as to not ward off the unseen legion of adult man-children reading The Comics Journal in 1995, much the same as The Jack Kirby Collector magazine or American Comic Book Chronicles does today. Wells' conclusion stands in delicious juxtaposition where Roz openly interjects in the interview with "can I just say -" and comments the length of Kirby's career prior to and after his stint at Marvel in the 1960's, and Lee has no equivalent record to speak of. The question of "who actually wrote those books" was answered by it was ever asked, when Kirby leaves Marvel in 1970 and begins working at DC again and immediately debuts The New Gods, The Forever People, and Mister Miracle. This is 2 + 2 = 4 level math. This is context clues and pattern recognition a small child could pick up on. This is a "Hey wait a minute" for anyone outside of the dense fandom mentality of comic book readers, who day in and day out seem to make active attempts at proving Alan Moore right about them.

The truth cannot be trampled on forever, nor will it be or should it be.

[heliads]

A Questioning

You’re a journalist in Manhattan, just like your best friend, Katherine Pulitzer. You’ve also been sent to interview the Brooklyn newsies when a certain Spot Conlon catches your eye.

masterlist

You straighten your hair, your clothes, the bag hanging at your waist. You’ve been to plenty of places all up and down New York City on reporting business before, you’re not sure why this one occasion has you so worried. It could just be that this article is going to be one of the most important articles you’ve written yet, or it could be because you’re going to be headed to Brooklyn, a place known for the particular hostility frequented by the same newsboys you’re supposed to be interviewing.

Eventually, your friend has enough of your frenetic fixing of your appearance, grabbing your hands and forcing you to stop moving. Katherine Pulitzer, already well introduced to the newsboys of New York, does not have time for silly things such as fear. “Y/N, you’re going to be fine. Honestly.” You sigh, looking at her morosely. “You don’t know that. I mean, what if they don’t even want to do the article at all? That’ll send me back to the review pages forever.”

Katherine rolls her eyes. “Even if the Brooklyn newsies took one look at you and decided never to say a word to any reporter again- which they won’t- you couldn’t be fired if you tried. Your last piece on the strike was fantastic. That’s why they’re giving you this opportunity, right? Because they know you’ll be perfect.” Despite your growing nerves, this is true. You had taken advantage of the hubbub of the city following the Children’s Crusade and the newsboy strike, interviewing teenage shoe shiners and elevator operators alike. They hadn’t been willing to speak to that many people, so your words were broadcasted up and down the city. It had been fantastic for the sales of that issue of the newspaper, and fantastic for your career.

So, you’ve been handed a reporting opportunity regarding the future of the strikers once more. This time, you’ll be tracking down the newsies of a select borough, talking to them about how life working for the many New York newspapers has changed and if they still stand by their actions. This alone would be fine, were it not for the fact that you’ll be speaking to the Brooklyn newsies. It’s not that you think they’re going to attack you, more that you have no idea what to say to a group of boys whose preferred weekend activity is soaking errant teenagers. How do you convince a bunch of Brooklyn boys to spill their hearts out for your article?

However, Katherine is right. You’re going to get nowhere by merely moping around, so you pick up your bag, square your shoulders, and set off across the city. You intend to show up at the Brooklyn Lodging House around the late afternoon, when the boys will all have finished selling their papes, so you can talk to them freely without interrupting their work schedule. 

Despite your forced confidence, you can’t help but feel doubt descend on you as you walk through the streets of Brooklyn. You’ve spoken to a few of the Manhattan newsies before, mainly Jack (at Katherine’s insistence) as well as Davey and Crutchie. From what they tell you, the Brooklyn boys are completely different. Even Jack is hesitant to talk to Spot Conlon when he’s in a bad mood.

Regardless of your hesitations, you’re still a reporter, and you have to get through this job. You’ve been through enough with the idiot journalists on your newspaper team that you can’t stomach returning an empty pad of paper to them, so you must walk on. Even certain death at the hands of the Brooklyn boys is better than the jeering looks you’re sure to endure if you back down. So, you walk resolutely across the cobblestones, pausing only once before the door of the Brooklyn Lodging House to settle your thoughts before marching past the threshold. 

All eyes descend on you the second the door clicks shut behind you. The boys look up, curious as to why you could possibly be there. Remembering yourself, you clear your throat once before you start talking, delivering the speech you’d run through countless times in your head on the walk over. “Good afternoon. My name is Y/N, and I’m a journalist for the Evening Telegram. I’d like to speak to you about how life has changed after the strikes.”

There’s silence in the room, a deafening silence that seems to press in on you from every corner of the dimly lit gathering. At last, one boy steps towards you, shirt smeared slightly from the grime of the streets. He sneers down at you. “Why would we talk to a goil like you?” Indignation flares up in you, and you speak again before you can stop yourself. “Maybe if you talked to a goil like me, you could actually manage to use your brain more than once a week. You might even be able to know important things like telling your left from your right.”

The boy stands there, stunned, but before he can open his mouth to say anything else a voice rings out from the open door behind you. You turn around to see a new boy entering, this one clad in a red shirt and a gray cap that hides the top of his dark curls. “Damn, Giant, she killed you. Is this what all journalists are like? We might have to have more articles written just to meet you all.” You freeze slightly, recognizing him from the descriptions Katherine gave you. “Are you Spot Conlon?”

The boy grins even wider. “Guilty as charged. Is there a reason you’re here, other than insulting my boys?” You wince at that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I was here to ask you some questions about life after the strike? It’s for an article I’m writing.” Spot, however, does not seem bothered by the fact that you’ve offended one of his newsboys. Instead, he just waves for you to follow him down the hall and into a room that likely serves as his office. “He can take it. Come on, I can answer your questions without everyone looking on.”

You stand in his office of sorts for a second, hands still closed tightly around your notepad as you try and fail to think of what to do next. Although you may have planned out the first thing to say upon finding the Brooklyn newsies, you’re not entirely sure where to go from here. There was no line in your schedule where you dissed one of the biggest boys there, and nothing saying what to do when Spot Conlon asked to be alone with you in his office.

Speaking of which, the dark-haired boy clears his throat, looking meaningfully at your pen and paper. “Well? Don’t you have some questions to ask?” You turn to him with an embarrassed smile. “Right! Um, how has taking part in the strike changed work as a newsie? Do you feel more protected by the presence of Roosevelt in office? Do you believe that Pulitzer and the other newspaper companies could work together in the future to minimize chances of another successful strike while still lowering the cost of the papers, or was your strike crucial enough to allow you to retain your autonomy in the selling industry?”

Spot blinks at you for a second, surprised, then lets another grin stretch across his face. “I see you came prepared. Well, I can’t speak for everyone when I say this, but I suppose we’se doing alright for ourselves. Pulitzer knows better than to try and change the prices again, not after the stunt we pulled.” You nod. “You think you’re protected by the public’s disapproval of Pulitzer?” Spot shrugs. “Something like that.”

You finish scribbling down his answers, then tap your pen against your notebook, contemplating something he’d said. “You mentioned something about how you couldn’t speak for everyone. I thought Brooklyn was one of the most important boroughs in New York? I mean, a lot of the Manhattan newsboys get nervous whenever they have to head over here on business endeavors.”

Spot chuckles. “That may be true, but we all got our own opinions. Part of how you stay on top isn’t just your fists, it’s your head. You have to pick the right fights, you know?” You jot this down. When you look up, he’s regarding you with a faint smile, one he doesn’t even appear to know is there. “That’s oddly wise for someone who claims to spend all his time fighting or selling papes.” Spot flashes you a grin. “Are you putting that in the papers, too? About how I’m oddly wise?”

You can feel your cheeks burning. “Probably not.” Spot shrugs, although his grin is shameless. “Unfortunate. I wouldn’t have minded it being there.” He lets you stew for a second longer, then extends a hand to you. “Here, it’s getting dark out. You’ll want to be back in ‘Hattan before too long.” You take it, letting him lead you to the door. He pauses once before opening the door, still keeping your conversation between the two of you. “Oh, and Miss Reporter? You can come back any time you like.”

Spot ends up walking you back to Manhattan, despite your protests that you knew exactly where you were going. He’d simply tossed you a wink, saying something about how he wants to make sure his guests get home safely, especially when they’re pretty reporters. You could tell from the victorious grin on his face that he’d said it just to mess with you, although to be entirely honest with yourself, you’re not sure that you mind at all.

You end up writing the entire article that night, still abuzz over the conversation and the moonlit walk back to your apartment. The clatter of your typewriter fills the empty spaces in the room, and you drown out the sounds of the city with the spill of thoughts onto paper. In the end, you’re left with an entirely excellent article, and a growing want to go back to Brooklyn and keep talking to the dark-haired boy who seemed to find nothing more interesting than trying to rile you up.

As it turns out, you’ll get your wish- your boss thinks your work is excellent, ordering you back to spend another day among the Brooklyn newsies. You’re all too happy to accept, and the delighted grin on Spot’s face when he sees you darkening his door once more is only the icing on the cake.

You end up spending a lot more time in Brooklyn, even after the focus of your articles leaves Brooklyn and the newsies behind. You can’t help it- something about his maddening grin, or the way he always looks for you in the crowd, makes you want to keep coming back again and again. Spot certainly doesn’t mind, and he ends up coming to visit you too, sneaking in through the fire escape of your apartment window so your landlady doesn’t suspect a thing.

In the end, you’re not sure that there could have been any other ending to your time with Spot. He tells you he loves you after a couple weeks, you can’t help but feel the same. You’ve spent your time wandering up and down the streets of New York, and you’re certain that there is no one in the entire city that makes you feel quite as happy or as free as Spot. He just has this way of making you feel like the brightest star in the entire sky, although he’s more than willing to stay up late stargazing with you if you want to see if there are any contenders to your status.

Sometimes there are days when no one seems in the spirit to buy a paper, or the other men at your newspaper seem like they’ll never truly see you as an equal. That’s when you take a visit over to the lodging house, finding solace in whispered words and smiles even when you feel the worst. Life in New York might be hard, but at least you have Spot. To you, that is enough.