#JATHRID

[more-sonorous]

quick sketch of jack kelly stealing his nerds from work— they are feeling very different feelings about the surprise evacuation

[we-are-inevitable]

really it’s not davey OR katherine it’s davey AND katherine. jack kelly is a man of two hands after all

[jack-kellys]

For the bad things happen bingo: Jack + bridal carry?

oh well hey there stranger. it was very much my instinct to have jack be carried but im actually so strong and didn't (quite) cave. also i made this a treat for u

available bingo squares here, ao3 series here! there r also some details in my ao3 tags/notes that make a few things about jack more objective.

Jack doesn’t like his new job, but he’s used to being good at things–adapting to things, maybe–that he doesn’t quite enjoy. 

Selling papers hadn’t been his life’s goal or anything, but he needed people to look out for him and a roof so he got damn good at it all. Same goes for these ridiculous cartoons for Pulitzer: Jack keeps his head down, his trap shut, and his pencil busy. By now he’s learned that making a bunch of very similar drafts is the way to go, so the old men upstairs can mull and hum and mutter about which reads the best when they all read the damn same. 

What is great about this newer gig is Katherine. Without it he’s not sure he’d see nearly as much of her as he’d like, and there’s so many doors to nothing and cramped little hiding places for them to giggle and tease and kiss in when they take a break from work. And since Jack isn’t technically granted any breaks, all Katherine needs to do is talk down to his boss with a cold glare and the whole matter is solved. And more importantly, they can go back to locking lips. The best days are when Davey comes by before the evening edition comes out after school, and the three of them share a cigarette. Katherine’s started to look at Davey the way Jack knows he has been for a while now, and he’s not sure what it means, but it makes butterflies reawaken in his stomach again. 

What’s not great about the gig is observing Katherine’s work life. 

Since the strike, she’s not needing to type up just one article anymore- by now it’s three, and when the Sun’s offices close for the day she ventures over to the World because she has a key and uses the typewriters there. Her father never stops her. And Jack sees her, because, you know, his rules for himself could also be stricter, but he’s used to that schedule. Up at dawn and asleep after he collapses has been his life, never hers. Jack watches her try to adjust- she’s always shooting him an upbeat smile, usually excited to be writing–and writing and writing and writing–when it’s something that interests her, but Jack doesn’t think he’ll get used to seeing circles under her amber eyes anytime soon. 

It’s November now, late in it, the time of year where there’s already a dent in supplies at the lodge that makes Jack sweat since it’s harder to steal in the winter. Jack’s at his drawing desk early this morning, wanting to have some time between when he gets out and the evening edition to try and hit up a few shops for medicines they’re running low on. Blink’s got a nasty cough right now, and the boy’s trying to puff out his chest about it, but Jack knows the truth. 

He heads up the stairs for a quick smoke break after a few hours, and catches Katherine coming in the front door from the cold in a hurry.

“Hey,” he says, greeting her just inside the main door. “You’re here early, what’s the deal at the-”

Jack observes her, and Katherine must read his mind. She sighs, shaking her head. 

“Jack, I’m okay. Rough morning,” she excuses. There’s no way a rough morning can excuse the redness surrounding her nose, the bags underneath her eyes so obvious they nearly look purple, which pops against how pale her skin looks. “And it’s cold out, too, so-”

“You catch Blink’s cold?” he asks. A middle ground, since whatever is going on with her looks worse than a cough. 

“Maybe,” Katherine agrees, which means she’s got to be feeling worse than a cold. “I’ll take it easier today if it makes you feel better.”

“It’ll make you feel better.”

Jack glances down, feeling her fingers against his own. Katherine threads her hand into his, before lifting up, dawn-pink lips pressing a small, cold kiss to his dark knuckles. 

“Go draw, Mr. Kelly,” she says to him, taking her hand away. “I’ll see you at three.”

Three is too long, and Jack can feel the time ticking by in the back of his mind, each hour making his palms itch worse. It’s not easy for him to get up and away–and especially into other parts of the huge building–without Katherine, so if she doesn’t make sure to come down and visit him he can’t really go up and see her. 

He practically rockets into motion the moment the clock strikes three, shuffling his drafts into his portfolio and shoving it into his desk, tugging his coat on, hiking his bag over his shoulder, then stands-

-up too fast. He wobbles, gripping the back of his chair and blinking his sudden spinning vision straight. Jack takes a breath, and finally exits the room, glaring at his boots. He hates whenever Mush’s hypothesis is proven a little right- Jack’s got something weird with his blood, wrong with the iron in his body. It gets him jumpy in the winter, gets him worried about everyone and the cold. 

Glancing around the hall, he sneaks up the stairs to where Katherine prefers to work- Bryan Denton’s office, who’s been out on assignments after shifting from the Sun for two months now and taught Kath a lot of what she knows. Jack knocks, before pushing open the door. 

“Oh, Kathy,” he sighs, smiling slightly. Her head’s tucked on the typewriter’s keys as if it were a pillow, arms rested under her chin as her chest rises and falls evenly. Jack’s sort of glad she fell asleep- doing all this work for hours on end in her condition hadn’t been Katherine’s best idea. 

Jack crosses over to her, drawing a hand through her hair. He pauses.

The ends of her wavy fringe his sweaty, he notices. Jack swipes his hand over her forehead.

Hot- burning hot. And her hands are cold when one of his own closes around them.

“Kath. Katherine,” Jack says, and says again. He shakes her shoulder gently. “Katherine, come on. Wake up, sweetheart.”

Slowly, her eyes flutter open with a small moan. Katherine’s eyebrows scrunch, confused- probably wondering why the first thing she’s seeing is an ‘f’ key. 

“Did I…? Jack?” she mumbles, lifting her head. Her face turns to his, and she pouts, blinking sluggishly. “Oh, I didn’t go down to you, did I. I’m sorry.” 

“That’s alright,” he reassures, two hands on her shoulders now. “Day’s over, yeah? Lemme get you- I’m gonna take you to the lodge for now. So you can rest some more.” 

She shakes her head, expression pinched.

“Not necessary,” she insists, carefully standing up. “Everyone falls asleep at their desk, right? Right. One time- one…”

She sways suddenly, but catches herself just as Jack’s muscles go taut. 

“One time.. thing,” she manages. She takes a step, and her dull eyes flutter, and Jack’s taut muscles send him surging forward as she falls sideways, only six inches or so from the side of her head slamming into the wall. Jack catches her, thank god, her form crashing heavily into his outreached arms. He hefts her up shakily, her temple finding his shoulder to rest on while his arms curl around her back and under her knees. 

“Kath?” he tries. “Katherine. Katherine.” 

She doesn’t wake, expression lax save for the strained twitch of her brow. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, because he’s alone, with his unconscious partner, in an office that isn’t his and in a building that doesn’t like letting him inside. And Kath’s not waking up. Jack’s heart starts to pound louder, it feels like- sounds like.

Stairs. Stairs. He needs the stairs. 

Jack rushes to them, doing his best not to jostle Kath as he starts downward. He needs to mind his footsteps- Katherine is practically his height, and her dress could easily cause both of them to go sprawling. 

He makes it down, trying not to breathe too hard, and shoves with his back out the front door.

“Jack? -Kath?”

Jack’s head swings to the right, and Davey’s there. 

“What happened?” the boy rushes out, striding over to Jack. “I was waiting for you two, they wouldn’t let me- is she alright? What-”

Jack lets Davey touch her forehead, watches him recoil and his eyebrows shoot up, before he traces her cheek gently.

“She’s sick. Came in and worked a whole day anyway,” Jack mutters. The November breeze makes Katherine shiver suddenly, but she still doesn’t wake, only looks more pained. Jack bites his lip.

“Hold her for a moment?” he asks Davey.

“What?” Davey splutters, eyes going huge. “Jack I can’t- I dunno if-”

Jack sets her in the taller boy’s arms anyway, and quickly sheds his coat. “Knew you were strong enough, Dee.”

“Whatever,” Davey mutters, narrowing his eyes at Jack, who sets his coat over Katherine. “Jack, you need that.”

“I ain’t sick,” he says, and carefully takes her back into his grasp.

“You’ll get sick. Or, you’ll-”

Jack starts walking. He’s fine. His nose is already chilled to the bone, but he’ll manage. He hears Davey quickly keep up, and they walk in strained silence for a while.

“You know, it’s my textbook on anatomy I had Mush borrow,” Davey murmurs. “And I read a good amount of it.”

“Good for you,” Jack mutters, though his body tenses up more than it already is as another gust of wind blows through. 

“It ain’t good for you to be out and cold like this,” Davey continues, and Jack keeps his gaze pointedly forward. “You’re already losing color and it’s only been ten minutes-”

“Dave,” Jack interjects, gazing down at Katherine. His coat’s helped, maybe, but she still shivers and burns and shakes in his arms and he wishes he could somehow grip her even closer. “I’m worried about her, alright? Lemme- just lemme hold her.”

Davey goes quiet for a moment. Before too long, Jack feels the boy’s arm come around his waist, rubbing his back, warming him.

“Okay,” Davey says softly. “Okay, Jack.”

They make it to the lodge, and the front door of it is all Jack can focus on. He lets Davey open it, and he heads in with her, going up the stairs, away from the colder first floor. He sets her in Racer’s lower bunk, since that’s always a safe bet. Pulls the covers up. 

Now what. 

There’re other things he should do, he knows that, but his brain can’t seem to connect the dots, the red string of his thought process being held limply with no direction. 

The hand on his back returns, and his name’s being said.

“-ck, you should get some rest too,” Davey’s saying. “You listening?”

“Always,” is Jack’s smart reply. “Yeah, I- well, I gotta run down to Mush first if he’s around, let ‘im know what’s going on.”

“Well, I can do that,” Davey brushes off. Then, he takes Jack’s hands, finding his wrists and cupping his palms around them. “You need to warm up, and rest, Jack, you just carried Katherine for a mile.”

“Yeah but I-” Jack shakes his head slightly. His shoulders hike as he fights a sudden shiver, slipping out of Davey’s hands as the red string finally lands around a thought. “I gotta grab some extra blankets, too.” 

“Jack-”

He stands up, gripping the bottom of the top bunk to steady himself, blinking a few times. Fine. He’s fine. He’s going- he was going to get… something. 

The red string suddenly slips away, and his head aches, his chest clenches, and he’s really, really cold. His vision flits between darkness and wood bunks as his eyelids flutter. Stronger arms than he thought he knew slip under his own right as he feels he’s about to sink, though, and his face lands against a warm chest. He yawns, lightheaded, brain feeling separate from the rest of his body.

“Breathe,” Davey’s saying, urgently. “Jack. Jackie, can you hear me? Just breathe, in slowly, out slowly.” 

Jack’s trying to focus, but he’s not totally sure why he can’t, and his knees want to buckle. Davey’s strong, holding him up like this. Jack doesn’t feel like he’s holding anything. 

He feels his eyes close, which makes the breathing easier but the focusing harder. Davey’s holding him close, safe. He’s tracing the side of Jack’s head soothingly with a finger in the space between his braids, and Jack lets himself yawn again, though this time his brain feels less like it’s suffocating than it did a minute ago. 

“You gonna let me find Mush?” Davey says softly, but Jack can picture the ‘I was right’ smirk that’s probably residing on the boy’s pink lips. Jack simply nods into his chest. He lets Davey sit him on the bunk, still leaned into the other until he feels Davey shift him- trying to lay him down. Jack thinks he falls asleep before the boy even can- he remembers Davey’s chest as his resting spot, not the pillow beside Katherine. 

He wakes groggily a couple hours later, his suspenders and dress shirt missing. His shoes are off, too, and there’s wavy, auburn hair tickling his nose and someone’s back he’s tucked into. Just barely, he raises his head, opening his eyes just enough. 

Katherine’s awake, thank god, attire loosened. Jack’s arm is rested over her hip, but she’s petting someone’s hair, looking down at someone the way she looks at Jack. His head raises higher.

Davey’s fast asleep sitting half on the floor, face pillowed by his arm on the bunk mattress and hair being delicately combed through by Katherine’s fingers. Suddenly she pauses, and glances behind her. Jack meets her gaze, and she looks exhausted, but she gives him a tired smile. Jack tries to return it despite the fog going through his brain. 

“Go back to sleep, Jackie,” she whispers, so gently it nearly convinces his eyes to shut then and there. “You’re off duty, alright?” 

“How long’s he been asleep?” he asks her anyway. He leans over her a little, arm slipping away from her waist to find Davey’s cheek to caress. 

“Maybe an hour,” she provides. “Adorable, hm?”

Jack hums his agreement, but feels his head bob downward, despite his desire to ask Katherine how she feels. Jack wraps himself closer around her middle, nuzzling his face between her shoulder blades. The hand that isn’t resting against Davey’s cheek finds Jack’s hand over her stomach, their fingers threading together. All three connected, like one snaking string. He smiles to himself. 

“Sleep, Jack,” Kath says again over her shoulder. He listens. 

[fourwingedwriter]

Braiding

AN: I'll post this on ao3 when i get done, but here's a little drabble :3 probs gonna make a series for my jathrid pieces but for now here's the only other one

Tagging @more-sonorous bc i think you'll like this

Fandom: Newsies

Words: 330

----

Jack's first mistake was saying "my hair isn't long enough to braid", his second mistake was allowing Katherine and David try.

He wasn't sure what he expected, Jack Kelly was allergic to refusing his partners after all. So when David leaned onto the kitchen table with a shit-eating grin, he couldn't exactly say "no".

Katherine was laughing, "do you even know how to braid?"

Davey didn't stop smiling as he loudly whispered, "shhhh, he doesn't need to know that."

Jack could barely supress his smile as David turned back. His beau was giving him a challenge and he wasn't about to surrender so easily, "I wanna see you try."

Without hesitation, David was dragging him to the couch. He was filled with unprecedented confidence as he started brushing his hands through Jack's hair.

Katherine sat beside them, brushing Jack's shoulder as she guided David's hands, "here, use this section, it'll be easier."

It would be difficult to say Jack wasn't enjoying this thouroughly. He'd never admitted it, but he always loved it when people played with his hair. He practically melted as both of their hands worked across his scalp.

"You have good braiding hair." Katherine commented, running her carefully curated nails through his undercut.

"I dont know what you're talking about. This is impossible." David scoffed, pulling a bit harder than before as he struggled to keep the pieces together.

Jack had to physically restrain himself from looking back. Instead, he bumped into one of David's legs playfully, "maybe you can practice on Kathy's hair next."

Katherine leaned forward and placed a finger on his lips, "no."

Both boys burst out laughing, Jack leaning too far forward and making David lean too far forward to keep a hold on the braid. He slipped off the cushins, sending the pair of them tumbling to the floor.

It took a few minutes and a lot of help from Katherine to get the two laughing boys untangled from each other. Eventually, they settled, starting the process over again.

[piedoesnotequalpi]

heyyy! reading your jatherid (i think that’s how you spell it) bachelorette fic right now, YOU ARE SO TALENTED! seriously man! keep writing!

Thank you so much; that means a lot! I am planning to keep writing (I'm actually far closer to the end of the next chapter than I have any right to be)!

(And yes, that does seem to be the ship name these days! I've also seen Jathvey and Jathrid though so dealer's choice I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

[itsnewstome]

Color

great title i know

@newsiestober day 26: Davey! god knows there’s no way I could miss this day out of all the others

Rating: T

Pairing: Jack/Katherine/David

Summary: David, grasping at straws, uses an old coping mechanism to cope with his depressive slump.Or, wherein David is having a hard time in like, so he dyes his hair.

Warnings:  Anxiety and depression. General angst

The apartment was too quiet without Jack and Katherine.

They were both gone for their own reasons. Kath had been pulled away by her mother for a week-long trip. A visit to a few relatives halfway across the country. David missed her.

Jack was still in town, but his presence had been very sparse in the apartment that week. Of the seven nights Katherine had been absent, Jack was gone for half of them.

They'd held each other the first two nights, cuddled against the chilly October night under the blankets. David found it bearable, comfortable in his partner's embrace.

And then for two nights afterward, Jack had phoned in late at night, saying things like, "It's getting late and the rain is pretty heavy. Think I'm gonna crash at the studio tonight, if that's okay," and the night after, "Race and Spot're in a spat. Spot's at Albert's and I offered to stay with Race."

What could David do but agree?

The next night Jack had come home after David was already asleep, smelling of paint and cheap Italian take out.

David understood. He did. He knew all about Jack's big projects that were nearing completion. He knew that Jack got wound up in work all too often. He knew Jack skimmed over details sometimes and didn't really pick up on when things were less than OK, or that something had gone off-kilter in their lives.

And that was fine.

David was an adult. He would be fine . He could handle a few nights on his own. He became re-accustomed to the cold sheets and empty mattresses. The cold morning kitchens, and the ghosting laughter that David longed for.

David ended up cleaning the apartment. He'd organized the closets, and the drawers. He did all the laundry and hung it up neatly in the closet. He'd washed their sheets, and later cleaned out the icebox. He spent all day after work on the apartment, trying to find some kind of order.

He threw himself into his task, telling himself that if he could just find order than he would feel okay. His head would stop swimming and his chest would feel normal again.

He would be okay.

David wasn't a child. He could deal with his problems, invisible though they were.

When Jack came home the day before, he'd looked around. Grinned. "It looks great in here Dave!" No connection. David smiled. It was fine. Everything was fine. David hadn't just been trying to re-catch his breath in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid with his hands curled tightly in his hair.

It was fine.

David came back home later than normal, a plastic shopping bag crinkling in his hands. The apartment was empty. Jack was late again. Even later than David.

The apartment was too big when he was on his own. Sound bounced off the floors and played tricks in his ears. He slipped his shoes off without a noise. It was a somewhat odd game, trying to make as little noise as possible.

It was a terribly easy game.

He moved slowly, in wonderment as his socked feet made nary a squeak on the floorboards. The crinkle of the bag in his hands gave the only sound in the room as he crossed the floor, down the hallway.

He opened the door to the bathroom and shuffled in, set his bag on the counter. He wrapped his hands along the edge of the counter and looked at himself in the mirror. He took in the dark circles under his tired eyes. He looked at the blemishes scattered around his forehead and chin, lamenting how he'd disregarded his hygiene these last couple of days.

David took in the cut of his hair. He hadn't told Jack or Katherine about it since he'd had it done the day before. He kept it like a dirty little secret, never acknowledging it outright. He'd wait until they saw it. He wondered if they would notice.

He had debated telling the woman at the hair salon to shave it all off, but held off at the last possible second. That was too much of a change. Something he would have to deal with for months to come. He would be remind of his idiocy, his ineptitude, every time he looked in the mirror or felt the closely shaved hair.

In a compromise to himself, he'd only gotten the bottom half clipped short. It was an odd feeling against his fingertips, and he wasn't quite sure if he liked it. The curls higher up on his hair were trimmed as well. It was a good haircut. He'd liked it.

And then he’d realized that it wasn't enough.

He looked in the mirror and frowned. It wasn't enough. It didn't hold the jarring effect he had hoped for. It was far too normal for that. What was a little trim and a clip going to do for him? It did nothing to silence the storm that he was braving in his head. It offered no distraction against his anxiety.

It was too plain. Not enough.

He took out the little bottles in the plastic bag and set them in front of himself.

He sighed, tapped the nails of his right hand along the white counter and stared pointedly at the little white container of hair bleach.

David had done this all before, but it had been years since the last time. He was sixteen when he discovered the old hair dye trick. It gave him something to control in an otherwise uncontrollable world. It was a piece of information that he ran with. He remembered the baby pinks and the soft greens he had tried out. Once, Les', David's younger brother convinced their mother to let David do the same to him. Les ran around with a head full of fading-red hair for a month and he was in love with it. He smiled at the memory.

With resolve, David removed his phone from his pocket and placed it on the lip of the counter, as if daring it to light up.

He'd made an agreement with himself as he'd bought the bleach and dye. If he heard from either Jack or Kath before he got started, then he would hold off on the whole teenaged coping method . If not, then he would go through with it and deal with the consequences tomorrow.

Later. When Kath was home, and once Jack noticed.

Thirty seconds later and the phone had not come to life. It stayed dull, lifeless. David tried not to be too happy about it.

So, he took up the bottle and picked at the top, trying to get the plastic shrink wrap off of the cap.

That was, of course, when his phone finally rang.

The piercing ring cut through the silence so suddenly that David startled, his hands flinging up in the air so that the bottle was flung against the mirror. It fell with a thump to the sink and rolled for a second as if to hurl an insult at David.

He took it. Along with the call.

"Hello?" His voice was odd and uneven. The background of the caller was extremely loud, full of some current dance track and happy, laughing voices.

"Davey!" He could hear the grin in Jack's voice, but he couldn't find it in himself to match his enthusiasm. "We're at Richie's." Makes sense. Probably Albert's idea, the club was his favorite place in the world. "Boys wanted to go after dinner. You want to come out?"

David made a noncommittal noise, shrugging to himself. "I don't know, Jackie. I'm not feeling too good."

Jack made a sound not quite like a grunt. A sound akin to a distraught frown. "That ain't no good. You want me to come home?"

Yes .

David looked at the counter, with his collection of bottles. He looked in the mirror, at his hair, in his eyes.

"No, I'm good. I was just going to go to bed early, nothing big or anything." It sounded right enough. A good excuse.

"Oh. Alright then. You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you, too." David felt heavy. "Have fun tonight."

The call ended. David replaced the phone on the counter.

He decided that, even though David had heard from Jack, he couldn't be blamed for going through with it all.

David picked up the little container of bleach and opened it up.

   He woke up to keys in the front door. He lifted his head from it's little cocoon of quilts he'd settled himself in. He was on the floor beside the foot of the couch, in the middle of a mess of quilts and throw pillows stolen from the other furniture. David squinted at the door. He'd taken out his contacts after last night's deed was done, and he knew his glasses were somewhere to the left side of the coffee table. His hands fumbled for them and he slipped them on just in time to see the apartment door swing open to two cheerfully chatting people.

Jack and Katherine came tumbling into the living room, tossing Kath's bags beside the recliner. Katherine was pulling off her coat, babbling happily while Jack listened on, grinning as he pushed the sleeves of his (David's) sweater up to his elbows.

David had forgotten all about Katherine. Jack was supposed to pick her up that morning. If that was any indication, David guessed that he’d waded through the after-effect of the night before to tender to his responsibilities.

"And it was really hilarious, I wish I could've caught it on camera!" Kath said, her voice was laced with disappointment.

"That's the most unbelievable part of the whole story, right there!" Jack said, laughing, "Kathering Clarice Pulitzer, reporter extraordinaire: caught without a camera."

"Ah, shut up," she tutted. She unzipped and rid herself of her boots before sighing happily. "Okay. Where's Davey?" She rubbed her hands together and moved out of the living area and towards the hall that led to their bedroom.

Jack wasn't far behind, walking right past David and his mound of blankets. "Probably still asleep. He wasn't feeling great last night."

He heard Kath hum faintly as she traveled farther and farther away from him.

David was suddenly very aware of himself. David, and his whole wrapped in blankets, hair very messily dyed, as he laid on the floor, being . He attempted to wiggle further into his blankets, to cover over his head and hide everything he had done.

If the floor opened up and swallowed him whole, he wouldn't complain one bit.

He ended up flat on his back as he realized that his reckoning was coming and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Well.

He could run out the door while the other two were still in the bedroom. It would be easy. His keys and wallet were in the little bowl on the stand next to the door.

Ha. The fools would never know what hit them!

Or, rather... what ran away... from them...

He'd figure it out.

"David?" Katherine's call was laced with worry and David winced. There was no getting out of it, now. He worried at his lower lip as he sat up. He leaned against the foot of the couch, his bottom half still wound up in the blankets.

He was rubbing his eyes under his glasses when Jack and Katherine came back out of the hallway.

"Did he spend the night with one of the boys?" Kath asked Jack.

"He said he was going to bed early, I don't-." David got the impression that Jack shrugged his shoulders. "I crashed at Crutchie’s." David could practically sense Jack folding in on himself.

David sighed. "I'm over here," he said, his voice heavy with sleep and a thousand emotions he had tried to keep to himself.

He heard two separate relieved sighs at his voice. He knew they hadn't seen him yet, as the back of the couch blocked their view, but they knew where he was now.

"Did you sleep on the floor ?" Jack asked, nearing David. Any second, now.

"Yeah," David answered. He let his eyes slip shut and his head fall back to hit the couch cushion. "Watched Stranger Things until I fell asleep." It was true. After his hair was finished and he had everything cleared up (the bathroom sparkled ), he had settled down on the couch and watched Eleven's adventures through a disinterested fog.

It made him feel marginally better, though.

( Any second.)

"Are you feeling any bet-," his words cut off as Jack braced his arms on the back of the couch, looking down at David.

There it was.

Jack frowned. He reached out a hand to pluck at one of David's colored curls, the question unvoiced but clearly there .

Kath joined Jack, and it was but a second before she gasped openly. "What happened to your hair?" she asked, utterly dumbfounded.

David bit at the inside of his lip, debating whether or not he ought to spill the whole story, or try to make one up on the fly.

He tried to go with the latter option, but he couldn't make the words flow. He stammered over his opening line until he sighed in frustration. He took a breath and a long, long moment to untangle himself from his confines. He climbed up onto the couch cushions, sitting on his knees as he looked Jack and Katherine over seriously.

"I haven't had a very good couple of days," he confessed. The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but it loosened the knot that was his stomach. "It's been bad." He tried to quell the threat of tears, and he was doing a fair job. He thought that was probably because he hadn't looked up from the back of the couch. He hadn't yet looked into his partners' eyes. He knew that if he did, he wouldn't last very long at all.

His fingers picked at a seam of the cushion and he concentrated very hard on the action. Jack reached out to take his hand in very much the same movement that Katherine did.

They squeezed his hands, and he squeezed back.

"Are you okay?" Katherine asked gently. Her right hand, the one not holding David's, cupped his cheeks and gently directed him to look up at her. "Did something happen to make you feel this way?"

He shook his head, feeling those godawful tears as they tried to well up. "It's... It just happens sometimes. I can't really control it. Or prevent it. It just. It sucks everything up and I stop . I know that doesn't make any sense, I just can't explain it right. It makes my head all cluttered and I feel like I can't breathe. Like I have no control over anything ."

"Hence the hair?" Jack asked. His fingers plucked at David's curls again. He ran a soothing hand in David's hair, watching how the color looked over his fingers.

David nodded miserably. “Hence the hair. And the apartment.”

Kath frowned. She looked around herself, confused. “The apartment?” she parroted.

“I deep-cleaned it.”

Understanding dawned upon her. “I see ,” she said. “It does look very nice.”

David grunted, looking distastefully around the clean space. “It didn’t make me feel any better. Neither did the haircut, so I… took drastic measures, I guess.” He laughed hollowly. It all sounded so stupid now, as he said it allowed. He aired his laundry and found out that the dust covering it all seems so insignificant in the sunlight. “It’s stupid,” he admitted aloud. He dropped their gazes again.

And then two pairs of strong arms circled around him and brought him close.

“It ain’t, either,” Jack told him firmly. Katherine agreed.

“Did it make you feel better?” she asked after a moment, “Coloring your hair?”

David nodded hesitantly. “Somewhat. I use to do it as a teenager. It’s been a really long time though.” He pressed his nose into Kath’s shoulder, and wound his arm tighter around Jack. “I know it looks dumb.”

“I like it,” Jack said. He pulled back enough to grin at his boyfriend. “I think it looks really good on you.”

Kath hummed. “I do too.” She freed her hands so she could run her fingers through his hair. “Suits you.”

He smiled. “I love you two.” He looked between them, eyes affectionate.

Katherine kissed him, and then Jack did.

“Will you tell us the next time you feel like this?” Jack asked.

David caught his lip between his teeth. “I’ll try,” he answered honestly. “ Before it gets to the crazy hair-dying phase.”

Kath smiled and agreed.

Jack took another second and ran his hands through David’s hair again. “I’m serious; I really like this. You did a good job.” He scratched pleasantly at his scalp. “You can do me next.”

David snorted. “Right. We’re gonna get you a really nice bubblegum pink.”

“Hey, I would be up for it.” Jack planted a kiss to David’s forehead, where the residual hair dye stained his skin.

“Next time,” David said.

He hoped that there wouldn’t be cause for a next time, but he didn’t hold his breath.

[more-sonorous]

both of jack kelly’s “pardners” wishing you a late, but very happy Valentine’s Day!

or, davey and kath in my style make jack kelly’s valentines day 10x better. based off of this iconic image:

[more-sonorous]

biblically accurate Jack Kelly quote:

“God gave me two hands and bisexuality for a reason...”

(spoken to Dave and Kath)

[more-sonorous]

davey and kath wearing matching save a horse ride a cowboy shirts

don’t talk to me im hyperfixating so bad

[more-sonorous]

a brief jathrid moment from an unreleased piece since I’ve been doing so much writing but not sharing any of it:

…..

“Of course.” Kath pressed her lips to his temple and he watched one of her impeccably manicured nails tap the charcoal image of Davey. “This one in particular. That looks exactly like David, Jack— how do you do it?”

“Ah, it ain’t nothin’ special.” He murmured softly, following the lines her nail traced.

Katherine scoffed and placed a gentle hand on his knee. “You’re too humble, Jack Kelly. David! Come look!”

For some reason, Jack’s heart clenched in his chest at the thought of Davey seeing such a detailed drawing of himself. It had taken Jack the majority of their outing to create— amongst a few other short sketches of Kath, studying the way her loose, carefully rolled curls fell around her shoulders compared to the wild, natural disorder of David’s.

In truth, Jack normally didn’t show people his sketches. He hadn’t even liked showing Katherine at first, but they’d had one too many arguments about Jack’s issues with vulnerability so he’d since learned to show her a piece every so often, and he always drank up the sweet praise and encouragement she offered him in response, her perfect lips always forming a lovely grin around white teeth. Conversely, Davey didn’t press. If Jack decided to show him a piece, he’d start smiling and his eyes would scrunch into pleased half-moons and it was sort of like seeing the sun after a week of rain. Jack would create random, half-assed little sketches just to see that genuine smile.

Davey sat up and swiped a freckled hand over his eyes, and Jack watched as chocolate brown curls fell over his forehead. He and Katherine both had excellent hair— so different, too. Kath’s bright ginger, always perfectly styled, and Davey’s curls cropped close to his head by his mother (Jack always liked it more when it grew out). Jack was lucky to have such lovely looking people surrounding him.

And now Dave was sleepily moving across the blanket to sit next to the pair, stretching the stillness out of his lanky limbs. Jack eyed the sliver of his chest that revealed itself behind his partially unbuttoned shirt.

“Yeah, Kath?”

“Jack drew you.” She grinned widely as she slid the sketchbook into Davey’s pale hands. They were freckled and stained with ink, just like his pale forearms.

Davey’s round green eyes flitted over the page and Jack watched with a feeling of pride as the other boy bit down on his bottom lip, holding back a smile. “Wow, Jackie.”

“Christ, stop actin’ like I’m Van Goff or somethin’, you two.” Jack muttered, rubbing his hands over his face to hide his own smile. Davey liked the drawing. Of course he did. So did Kath. Jack had no idea why he was so embarrassed, but Kath tended to do that to him. Unfortunately, so did Davey. Little things that would turn Jack’s stomach into knots and melt his words right out of his mouth.

“Van Gogh.” Both Katherine and Davey corrected him at the exact same time, with the exact same strain of know-it-all in their exasperated tones.

Then, they shared a glance and bursted into giggles, and Jack’s heart beat wildly within his chest because he might’ve felt sort of stupid for not knowing that old guy’s name, but at least the two people he cared for most were getting along so swimmingly.

[we-are-inevitable]

heyyyy friends! i have an 8 hour car ride tomorrow and would looove some asks! drabble requests, headcanons, questions, etc- pls send ‘em in!!

ships i’ll write drabbles for:

javid

jatherine

jathrid

davtherine

sprace

ralbert

any platonic ships!

[more-sonorous]

don’t mind me just sitting here imagining davey holding a little baby and jack and kath both simultaneously having their oh moment

(maybe it’s canon era and maybe the baby is Sarah’s and it has big eyes and curly hair like davey and everybody’s heart is melting)

[more-sonorous]

rag, boy, rag (can you teach me how to play?)- davey angst

(been thinking about David playing piano at a jatherine wedding pretty much nonstop recently so have a sliver of the long dissertation I wrote about it)

…..

The first time David Jacobs ever wanted to flat-out refuse to play the piano came when he was twenty years old on a lunch break between lectures, sitting on a bench in New York City with Jack Kelly by his side and a pretzel in his hand.

“Hey, listen, Dave– I’m real glad you could find some time to meet me.” Jack said almost seriously, absentmindedly brushing a few strands of his dark hair away from his perfect eyebrows.

“Of course. Though– I don’t see why this couldn’t have waited until Friday, you know it’s Kathy and I’s book club night.” He glanced up at his friend rather admonishingly as he tore a piece of his pretzel off, trying not to focus on how beautiful Jack’s honey-brown eyes looked in the sun.

David had planned to stop doting on this boy quite some time ago, but he’d done a rotten job of kicking his affections down. It seemed that at twenty he was more in love with Jack than he was at seventeen, which was simply no good because he was in love with Jack’s fianceé, too. There was no woman more beautiful than Katherine Pulitzer, and David stood by that belief. He also believed that there was no man more lovely than Jack Kelly, and so he found himself hopelessly head over heels despite his own reservations.

Jack’s easy smile turned almost nervous. “Well, it’s about the wedding, so I sorta wanted it to be just us.”

“Oh.” David felt his own smile slip and falter. He’d been dreading this moment and their intense eye contact instantly became too much. Jack was going to want to talk about his wedding eventually. He and Kath had been planning for weeks and according to Racetrack, they were both knee-deep in it and very excited. It was honestly a miracle neither of them had brought it up yet. Squirming in his skin, David firmly directed his sights on his own scuffed shoes. “Alright, what about the wedding?”

“Well– I want ya’ to be my best man.” Jack said, very simply, and when David didn’t smile or react at all, really, he cleared his throat. “Y’know, since you’re my best friend and all. You’re my best man day-to-day, so why shouldn’t ya’ be in my wedding?”

He swallowed the hard lump in his throat as his traitorous brain slammed him with images of Jack and Kath, happily dolled up in white and black, enjoying the best day of their lives as David wallowed in misery by Jack’s side. Just the thought made him feel a little bit nauseous, and that nausea only grew as he imagined himself having to stand up and give a speech about how happy he was for them. Of course, David was happy for them. He loved them, and they were happy, so how could he not be happy?

He was happy, but he was jealous and lonely and miserable too. There was no earthly way he’d give a speech that did Jack and Katherine justice. In fact, he’d been considering not attending the wedding at all. Finding an excuse. He didn’t need to be in the picture— he was horrible at masking his emotions. He’d just be a sad, morose lump, sucking all of the fun out of the night. They didn’t deserve that. But Jack was looking at him so hopefully and he knew that skipping his best friend’s biggest day was an offense he couldn’t commit.

David dug the toe of his boot into the brick beneath them. “I… I can’t make a speech, Jack.”

“That’s fine!” Jack reassured nearly instantly, grabbing Davey’s pant leg with fervor and leaning in like this was the most important thing he’d ever done. “Seriously, Dave, fine by me. No speech!”

How could he tell Jack no more firmly? He was starting to spiral into panic. “I can’t– I can’t stand up there in front of everyone at the wedding, either. I’m not– I’ll panic, and that’ll ruin your big day.” Now Jack looked positively distraught. This was falling apart fast. David gritted his teeth tightly and awkwardly, painfully took Jack’s hand in his own. “Jackie, I’m still going to be there–”

“But I want ya’ in the wedding, Davey. Not just at it–”

“I– um– I was thinking–” He was blabbering before he could think, some subconscious part of him trying to soothe Jack’s miserable expression. “Well, I was thinking before you asked me about this, that maybe I could just play piano for you? So… so you don’t hafta hire some other musician. And if it’s me, you can tell me all the pieces you want to hear sooner than you could tell a stranger…”

Jack seemed to pause, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hair. “You mean that?”

“Sure.” He steeled in a deep breath and tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes. He did not want to be a part of this wedding at all– he’d been planning to watch the ceremony and escape after a few minutes of the celebration afterwards– but he did owe it to them. They’d been nothing but good to him for years. “Besides, um… I think Crutchie’d murder you if you didn’t give him the best man spot. Or Racer. He’d kill you faster.”

“Pfft, Crutchie and Racer can kiss my happy ass.” Jack rolled his eyes as if to affirm his point, giving David’s hand a heart-wrenching squeeze. Something akin to hope was brightening his face, dimpling his cheeks, and David sort of wanted to disappear. “But… if– if you’re sure ya’ don’t mind playin’ for free, that’d work. Shit, it would really work. And Kath loves your music, Dave. Honestly, she’d be honored to have ya’ play– we’d both be.”

Then Jack squeezed his hands again, and David felt even closer to throwing up than he did before as he managed a stilted, awkward little smile. “You… you don’t have to make a big deal out of it. I’ll take any excuse I can get to play ragtime.”

“Wait, I thought ya’ meant just the ceremony.” Jack’s brow furrowed. “I want’cha to enjoy the party after.”

“There’s nothing I enjoy more than playing the piano. Especially not parties. I hate parties, you know.” He insisted, carefully, firmly. This was a truth– a universal David Jacobs truth– and playing the piano would be the only way he’d be able to distract himself from the misery of their perfection. “Besides, I know Katherine likes Brahms waltzes, and I’d– well, um, I’d be honored to play during your first dance. So… you’ve got me for the ceremony and the reception.”

“Gee, Dave.” Jack’s smile softened into something heart-wrenchingly personal and David looked away, at the pedestrians on the street and the shouting vendor they’d purchased their lunch from. “That means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well…” He swallowed again. Harder. “Yeah.”

[more-sonorous]

right here with you- (sun, moon, stars blurb) jatherid

have another jatherid piece :D

TW for implied/referenced child abuse and a bit of angst because of that, and some mild hurt/comfort vibes

we touch upon jacks tragic past but kath and davey make this more comfort than hurt I promise

…..

Kath wasn’t really a heavy sleeper- she’d never been. During her childhood, in a too-big house with too many rooms, she’d wake up just from hearing footsteps at the other end of the empty hallway. She could never sleep during class at school or nap casually if other people were awake, because they’d rip her from sleep with a sentence of speech that was whispered too loud. She was too alert even in rest, she supposed, that ever-present journalistic instinct wanting to be aware of everything all the time.

Sleep had been much better living alone and even better with Jack, because he slept like a rock and that tended to be awfully grounding. Well— he normally slept like a rock, but sometimes he had nightmares. Those weren’t really an issue. Kath would just hold him and lull him back to sleep. Once he realized he was safe and cared for, he’d drift off easily.

It was no surprise that she woke up when her boyfriend’s warmth disappeared from their bed, but he was already long gone by the time she finally blinked the sleep from her eyes. She reached a fumbling hand out to Jack’s side of the bed and found the dip in the mattress cold, no lingering warmth soaked into their pillow. Immediately she felt guilty— Jack must’ve had a nightmare and vacated the bed, and for some reason, she didn’t wake up.

She switched into protective girlfriend mode immediately and stumbled out of the bed, not even bothering to throw on sweatpants beneath the sweatshirt she’d stolen from atop Jack’s dresser.

He always woke up tense and terrified, but he never really explained what happened in his dreamscape despite Kath’s questioning. He’d ramble about how he didn’t want to go back, or just murmur that he was relieved for her safety. She should’ve been there. Should’ve woken up. Guilt wracked her thoroughly as she glanced over the living room, unfortunately not finding her boyfriend curled up on the couch or armchair.

She did find him in the kitchen, and the sight made her heart skip a beat within her chest.

Davey was sitting on the kitchen island, holding Jack in a tight embrace. Jack stood within the vee of the other man’s long legs, strong arms wrapped around Davey’s slim waist and face buried in his pale neck. She could only see the shaggy waves of Jack’s black hair and the subtle shake of his shoulders, like tremors of fear were still wracking through him. Davey, bless his heart, didn’t look awkward or tense. His cheek rested firmly on Jack’s head and those bright green eyes gazed off into the distance, a little frown tilting his lips. One freckled hand gently stroked up and down Jack’s back, the other arm remaining tight and secure around Jack’s torso.

The sight of them was sweet and domestic, and Katherine almost didn’t want to interrupt.

It was so incredibly relieving to know that Jack had someone else to lean on— and maybe she should’ve been jealous or anxious to rip them apart, but she just wasn’t. She was almost glad to see them embracing, and part of her wanted to join in. She knew she’d feel complete if they’d share the moment with her.

A kettle sat boiling on the stove behind them, and a box of Davey’s melatonin tea was abandoned on the island next to the boys. He must’ve fallen asleep early and woken up too soon, so he was making a cup of tea to knock himself out again. It was half past four in the morning, and Kath knew his habits and sleep schedule fairly well.

Davey seemed to have things under control, and Kath was planning on heading back to bed, since joining the embrace seemed like it would cross a line— but then Davey’s round eyes met hers and got all wide like he was guilty, and she quickly stepped in. The last thing Davey needed to feel was guilt; not when seeing them together made Kath feel just as giddy as she felt when she kissed Jack or held Davey’s hand.

“Morning, boys.” Before either of them could move, Kath hugged Jack from behind and curled her free hand in the fabric of Davey’s shirt. He was warm. She knew how it felt to be hugged by Davey. He was sturdy and safe despite his willowy form, practiced from years of caring for his siblings. “Everybody okay?”

“Jack had a nightmare, I think.” Davey whispered in response as he relaxed from his brief panic, his voice soft and raspy with sleep. “I was making some tea when he came in here.”

Kath hummed as her suspicions were confirmed and hooked her chin over Jack’s shoulder. He relaxed fully when he felt her touch, slumping forward into Davey’s arms with a noise that sounded like a broken sob. Kath’s eyes widened as she met Davey’s gaze— Jack had never cried after one of these night terrors. One of Davey’s hands instinctively jumped up to Jack’s hair.

“Hey… Jack, darling, everything's alright. We’re here.” Kath reassured, ensuring that her voice was gentle and comforting. She wrapped both arms around him and felt Davey’s ankles lock against her lower back, an act that tugged both her and Jack tighter against his chest and protected them in the circle of his legs. She was endlessly grateful for him in that moment, feeling her heart swell with adoration. Her stomach felt giddy with butterflies, like a middle schooler with a crush all over again. “Jack? What’d you dream about, love?”

“I— I was back at Snyder’s house and— he wasn’t— this time he wasn’t beatin’ up on Charlie, he was hurtin’ you two.” His voice was thick with emotion and he shook like a leaf. The fingers of one tan hand curled tightly around Davey and the other blindly reached back for Katherine. She took it instantly and threaded their fingers together as her heart dropped. “I couldn’t stop him. I was never— I can never fuckin’ stop him—“

He sobbed thickly and unabashedly, trembling against Davey’s chest. There was a special sort of rage building up within Katherine. She had no idea who this ‘Snyder’ was, but she wanted to murder him already for making her loved one cry. Rage coursed through her, making her fingers burn and her head cloud with emotion as she squeezed Jack tightly.

Thankfully, Davey leaned more towards the stern, sorrowful and protective side as he tucked his nose and lips against Jack’s hair. “Jackie, we aren’t going anywhere. Kath and I are safe. We’re right here with you, alright?”

Jackie. Kath remembered a time when Jack nearly jumped his foster brother for calling her that. She hid her smile in Jack’s hair as Jack let it slide completely, just because it was Davey saying it.

“But I didn’t— I let him—“

“Can you feel me breathing?” Davey took an exaggeratedly deep breath, in through his nose. His chest swelled beneath them, eyes fluttering shut. Kath thought, wildly, that he looked beautiful. “You feel that, neshama?”

Jack hiccuped, face still buried against Davey’s neck. “Y-yeah?”

“Try to match me. In, out, just like I do.” The swell of his chest became remarkably rhythymic, and Kath, through all of her curiosity and anger, matched Davey’s pace wordlessly to try and bring Jack down from his panic. When Davey gave a soft hum of approval, Kath felt it in her own chest. “Good, Jack. And my pulse— you can feel that, can’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jack’s voice was a harsh whisper, thick with tears. His head shifted and Kath knew he was dragging the tip of his nose against the fluttering pulse point of Davey’s neck.

“You can feel Kath’s pulse on her wrist, too. Go on. Can you do that for me?” Like clockwork, Jack’s calloused thumb jumped to the softness of her inner wrist. He exhaled almost reverently, breath hiccuping. “We’re both here with you, Jack. Nobody’s hurt. We’ve got you. We’re here for you, alright?”

Jack sobbed again. Not one of his broken, emotional sobs, but one of relief. The vice-like grip he had on Kath’s wrist lessened as he cried into Davey’s shoulder. Katherine wrapped both of her arms around her partner and buried her face in the curve of his neck, standing still and firm just to remind him that she was real. He’d never cried like this, and for someone who was typically charismatic and sunny, it was jarring.

Soon sobs turned into little gasping breaths, and those eventually waned into occasional hiccups. Then they were all still and silent, breathing in tandem, wrapped tightly in a mess of an embrace. Kath certainly didn’t want to let go, and based on the way Jack was clinging, he didn’t either. She hoped and prayed that Davey was just as content as they were, and a glance at his face told her that maybe, just maybe, he was.

The sharp whistle of the tea kettle ruined the moment. Davey nearly jumped out of his skin and they all shared a laugh, before Jack pulled back and ran his hand over his eyes. “Sorry. ‘M sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Kath and Davey insisted at exactly the same time, and then laughed at the same time as well.

Jack giggled wetly and tugged the hem of his tshirt over his eyes. “It freaks me out when you guys do that shit.”

“We’ve only known each other for two decades. It’s a wonder we don’t say everything in unison.” Davey responded drily, hopping down from the island and brushing past them to go fix himself a mug of tea.

“Hey, wait—“ Looking slightly panicked, Jack lurched forward and grabbed Davey’s wrist. “Where- um…”

“The kettle’s gonna explode if I don’t take it off of the stove.” He attempted to joke, but obviously noticed the traces of distress in Jack’s expression. Katherine watched with a hitch in her breathing as Davey carefully took his hand and squeezed. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Jack nodded. Both he and Kath watched as Davey pulled away to go handle the situation on the stove, noticing the large wet patch on the shoulder of his Columbia tee. Jack winced and dropped his forehead onto Kath’s shoulder in embarrassment, which made her giggle.

He looked pretty post-cry, because of course he did. His lashes were clumped together and his lips were swollen and Kath realized that every version of Jack was just as lovely as the last. She was lucky. Her chest seemed to warm with a feeling of unbridled adoration as she kissed his head and wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling his cheek with her nose. “Davey’s got a million Columbia t-shirts. Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t have a million.” He sassed, glaring back at her over the rims of his glasses. “I think I have seven. Ten if you count my sweatshirts.”

“That’s still too many.” She teased right back, earning a little laugh from Jack. Kath loved being the same height as him because it meant he could drop his head on her shoulder with ease.

Davey rolled his eyes as he made quick work of filling his mug and adding milk and lemon like he always did, before he finally rejoined them and perched himself on one of the barstools. He looked like he was about to say something, but his course of action changed mid thought. Kath watched his brain reboot and his eyes narrow. “Speaking of, you’re wearing one of my sweatshirts right now.”

He pinched the navy blue fabric covering her shoulder and Kath realized, with a mortified jolt, that she was in fact wearing his clothing. It was a corny sweatshirt that said ‘hometown boy’ on the front, with a print of their childhood town’s Main Street. On the sleeve, ‘David J.’ was embroidered in black thread, the careful handiwork of Mrs. Esther. Kath felt her face heating up. “Oh. Um— in my defense, it was on Jack’s dresser.”

She and Davey shared clothes all the time before Kath started striking up serious relationships with other people. It was probably improper now. Jack might‘be even been angry with her— but it was Jack. He was always surprising her. He laughed and nuzzled his nose against her shoulder. “Dave’s clothes smell better than mine.”

“Your clothes don’t smell bad, Jack Kelly.” She hit him upside the head, which only earned a snicker.

“Yeah, but Davey’s laundry routine has like six steps and ours has two.” Jack explained, and that was a random detail that even Kath hadn’t noticed. “That’s why his clothes are softer. Plus, you look cute. That thing is huge on you. ‘S why I didn’t say nothin’.”

“So you knew and didn’t tell me?” She scoffed, affronted. He only grinned, bright and sunny, cheeks dimpled.

Davey’s face was awfully pink as he shook his head. “You’re an enigma, Jack Kelly.”

“I don’t even know what that means, sweetheart.” Jack cooed, and patted Davey’s cheek twice for good measure. Davey’s ears and neck went red and he nearly tumbled off of his barstool in his attempt to escape. Kath wondered if there was anything in this world that could make him seem less endearing.

“Alright, I’m going to bed or my sleep schedule’s going to be ruined for weeks.”

Jack’s jovial demeanor dropped and he stood up straight, stumbling in Davey’s direction as if pulled by a magnet. His arm tightened around Kath’s waist. “Hang on, Dave, I- um— can’t you stay up a bit longer?”

“Or you can just come to bed with us.” Without thinking, Katherine interjected. She almost immediately kicked herself for it, because why would she say that?

Inviting your best friend into your bed with your boyfriend defied just about all social norms, but there Kath stood, clinging to said hopeful boyfriend as her nervous best friend glanced between them. David pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, nervous eyes dancing between them but not quite making contact. He radiated anxiety, and his voice was barely a whisper as he spoke.

“Wouldn’t… wouldn’t that cross a line?”

“No.” Jack answered quickly, holding a hand out for Davey to take. He hesitated, and Jack continued to speak, impulsivity glimmering in those deep, brown eyes. “Kath and I are both alright with it, so it don’t cross nothin’. And besides, I… um— I might feel better if I knew you were right there. Y’know?”

Something about the pleading look in Jack’s eyes made Davey soften. The rigid lines of his shoulders slumped and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth for just a moment, glancing at Kath as if looking for confirmation. She motioned her head towards Jack's outstretched hand with a grin.

Davey took it, pale and freckled against golden brown.

Soon they found themselves curled around Jack beneath the heavy comforter, Kath using his chest as a pillow and Davey lying on his side, pressed up against Jack inch-for inch. Jack’s upper arm served as a pillow for the taller man, and his hand absent-mindedly played with Davey’s curls. Kath had a leg tossed over both of her boys, ankle hooked around the curve of Davey’s knee to keep him close. His sweatpants were abnormally soft— Jack was right about that.

[we-are-inevitable]

and what if i said jack/davey/kath is just jack harkness/ninth doctor/rose tyler. what then.

[we-are-inevitable]

ooookay gang. it is finals time for my university, which means: i need drabble requests that i can work on during my procrastination sessions!! idk if i’ll get much work done on frack bc it’s a Lot of brain power to write those idiots, but in the meantime: requests are open!

i’ll write javid, jatherine, and jathrid, and maaaybe sprace/ralbert if i’m in the mood. i’ll also write platonic ships as well!! pls send some inspo in!!