Watching Uksies Boot And 92sies Tonight And Tmr So Stay Tuned

maybe life is worth living

Jack writes in a diary, but instead of titling it like others would with "Dear Diary" He directs each entry to a different Newsie. He finds it easier to let it all out if his mind thinks he's writing all this to somebody. His diary entries are really more like letters he'll never send.

Dear Racetrack,

We got some new kids today, Davey and his brother Les. Les thought I was pretty cool, Davey might take a little more convincing. They seem pretty sound though, they got parents and a flat, the whole nine yards, y'know?

Dear Jojo,

We're officially on strike against Pulitzer! That bastard raised the prices without even a word of warning to us and expect us to just go along with it? Yeah, well, have we got news for them, am I right?

Dear Crutchie,

This wasn't how today was supposed to end. I know we were warned this could go wrong, but I didn't think we'd be beaten that badly.

I feel like real shit knowing I didn't go down there and help him after all those times he helped me. My brothers been sent to the one place I swore to protect everybody from, and I just stood there. I'm so sorry Crutch.

Dear I'm sorry I let you down Davey.

love when characters have to have a domestication arc before you can even consider giving them a redemption arc

you bewitched me, from the first time you kissed me

please spread this so that it can actually be funny instead of just 1 person voting

the trans masc urge to be in the opening scene of 92sies

nothing cuter than a cat reaching out to very gently bother you with a paw

“Okay, Quintin,” Davey sighs, arms folded at the little tuxy squatting precariously on the ajar door. “I don’t think you’re meant to be up there-“

The kitten’s paw whips forward, batting Davey across the face, and perhaps Jack has been watching too many soaps, because he can’t help his dramatic gasp. Davey only blinks, his glasses now dangling askew from his nose.

“You’ve assaulted me, Quintin.” Davey says flatly. “I will never forget this disrespect.”

Quintin hunkers down in shame, mewing piteously from his perch.

“No, there’s no room for excuses now,” Davey scolds in that same flat tone as he reaches on his tiptoes, his shoulders pulling at the flimsy hem of his work polo. “You are being unreasonable, Quintin. You are making a scene.”

It’s truly, honest to God unfair how well Davey pulls off a shitty work polo.

Quintin squirms on the thin line of the door, still not wanting to come down but growing more and more aware that he is a very wobbly kitten on a very small surface. He mews irritably, if only to prove he can, and Davey tuts his tongue against his teeth. He slides a hand under Quintin’s soft white belly and pulls him down in one slow and fluid motion, cradling the little thing to his chest as Quintin meows furiously.

“Right, then,” he mutters in a faraway monotone, as if his consciousness has left the human world in order to communicate with this very bad-tempered kitten. “To jail with you, young man – no, no, I shan’t hear it-"

Jack can only watch as he drags Quintin’s yowling little self back to the cattery, rambling nonsense while a kitten squirms and whines in his arms. Jack swallows, bracing one arm against the desk.

Davey may be the first man in all of history to make the word “shan’t” sound sexy.

rewatching livesies for like the 15th time ... davey inviting jack home to dinner THE FIRST DAY THEY MET????????????? true love

it's slowly coming together, everyone ...... I haven't forgotten y'all I promise .... it's just taking a while to actually write and set up and logisticize and everything .... plus i SHOULD be getting an ao3 account on feb 21st so im hoping to post there :)