#jathrid

[inkeyjay]

More Newsies sillies

these last ones are some quick studies from our first act rehearshal!

[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]

favorite jathrid headcanons to fill your free time!?

ohhh jay. my darling jay. THANK YOUUUU

when they all cuddle, jack is typically the one in the middle. when david has bad days and needs the physical pressure, he slides in between jack and kath— kath is typically in the middle when she’s had a really great day and wants her boys to hold her about it !!

katherine is abysmal at cooking, so she typically buys the groceries; david and jack are great cooks and david is a lovely baker, so they make it work, and katherine is particular about how dishes are done so she handles clean-up.

they have times when they’ll all sit in silence and do their own things- jack will sketch or paint, david will read or play piano, katherine will read or write- and it’s a very healthy dynamic for them. they’re all creatives in their own right and they love that about each other.

sometimes, jack has bad nights. memories of the refuge, or his family, or the bulls busying up the strike, flood his dreams. on the nights he wakes up gasping for breath, katherine is there to run her soft hands through his hair and david is there to squeeze his hands and wipe the tears away. they don’t let jack run away. they keep him anchored when the thoughts get too loud and the regrets eat at his heart and the scars on his back start burning with phantom memories. they’re always there.

sometimes, david has bad days. the weight of it all gets to him- being the responsible son, the perfect older brother, the one dragging his family from poverty to something better- and it’s like a ten ton weight has been sat on his chest. he can barely sit up in bed, let alone get out and be productive; he doesn’t talk, barely reacts to stimulation, and it’s hard to even look them in the eyes. katherine sits with him, his head resting on her thighs. jack makes easy food and brings him water and blankets and hums spanish lullabies his mamí used to sing. it doesn’t fix him, but it helps.

sometimes, katherine has bad evenings. work is draining, being underestimated and underutilized weighs heavily on her shoulders, trying to live up to her own expectations of herself- especially after her successful cover of the strike- means she’s constantly burning herself out. jack and david take care of her when it happens. david makes her favorite tea, jack massages the tension from her shoulders, they listen as she airs her frustrations out; when it gets to be too much and she ends up crying, they hold her and soothe her and make her feel seen.

david is autistic. jack and katherine know when to be blunt with him and how to lay everything out in a way that makes sense for him. they can tell when he doesn’t want to be touched, can tell when eye contact is too much, can tell when he’s drained and doesn’t want to talk— they understand that life can be a bit much.

jack has abandonment issues. david and katherine understand when he takes an hours-long walk to have time to himself and ‘run away’ for a bit- he can’t feel tied down, can’t be a caged animal, has to be the one to leave and can’t be the one left. there’s always tea waiting for him when he gets back.

katherine has family issues. jack and david can tell when she’s had a rough day and when she’s had a rough family day. when her father has belittled her once again, tried to convince her to quit her silly job and come home; they ask her more in-depth questions about her work those nights, ask about interviews she’s conducted, stories she wants to write— they’re her biggest fans.

katherine and david are cat people. jack is a dog person.

jack sometimes struggles with the fact he’s “not as smart” as david and katherine. it’s something he doesn’t talk about, but it’s always there.

david sometimes struggle with the fact he’s not as charismatic as katherine and jack- doesn’t understand people the same way. he hates it, but admires their ability to wow a crowd.

none of them can sit idle; they have to be doing something, all of them, because if you’re still you’re not productive and if you’re not productive you’re not doing enough— it’s a group effort to rest, but those lounging times are so special all curled up together and murmuring lazily about their days and laughing at stories they tell each other.

katherine is plus sized <3 jack kelly is not white <3 david is tall and lanky and awkward <3

long story short, they’re my darlings and i love them so bad WAUUUGGHHH

[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.

[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]

digitalized one of my favorite sketches— you aren’t really a manhattan newsie if you aren’t wearing blue, right?

[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: