#kathy's song

[angelofsmalldeaath]

kathy's song — a.h.b.

a/n: this is based on one of the songs mentioned in this interview. the prompt is "it looks like it might rain outside". this is quite self indulgent too because @handfulofhoney and i were discussing andrew and gaming (in great detail mind you!!)

cw: weed

“it looks like it might rain outside,” i point to the window, leaning against his chest. a moment later, i feel smoke caress my earlobe, followed by the familiar earthy, grassy smell. 

he hums, voice deeper than before and right next to my ear. 

“should we do something?”

i turn my face, parting my lips a little so he can place the joint between them. the smoke makes warmth bloom in my chest, a minute late, the familiar calm descends. 

“i was thinking about restarting that zelda game we like so much.”

“oh yeah?”

his chest vibrates when he speaks, scattering goosebumps over my arms. a moment later, the first fat raindrop hits the window. 

“would you play with me?”

“you always chuck the joycons at me when the fights get hard,” he snickers, flicking my nose when i wrinkle it at him. the joint dangles between his lips, smouldering. i can’t resist placing a little kiss on his jaw. 

“because you’re so much better than i am!” i whine. 

“how will you get better if you don’t play!”

“is it not enough that i can sit here and cheer you on?”

we both stare at each other, noses almost touching, my side pressed against his chest and my back resting against his knee. a second later he exhales, blowing smoke all over my face. 

“go on, get it then.” he smiles when i whoop, stumbling off the bed to turn the console on and get the joycons.

a moment later i’m back where i was, slotted between his legs and leaning against his chest. the rain gains speed, more fat raindrops hitting the window. it’s the perfect rhythm, i think. or maybe it’s the weed thinking that, making its way through my bloodstream. the world feels slower, softer around the edges. 

i stare at the colours on the starter screen, mesmerised. 

“that’s you,” he points at the screen. i wrinkle my nose and flick him in the shin. “that pig-like monster?!”

“no, you idiot,” he giggles, kissing the shell of my ear and takes another drag of the joint. i have a sudden and visceral urge to kiss him, to feel that smoke entering my lungs. 

“that old man. you’d love to be unnecessarily cryptic and sit by the fire roasting apples.”

i hmph, unable to contradict really because he is right. a second later he turns my face to his as if he’s read my mind and kisses me. his lips feel warm from the smoke, soft from my lip balm that he keeps stealing. his beard tickles a little and i laugh. 

when he lets go, he holds the spliff in front of my lips, letting me take a small drag. 

the sound of the rain fills the room, along with the click of my joycons. link grunts every few seconds, in the middle of a fight and slashing at enemies left and right with a measly rusty sword. every few seconds he leans and kisses my neck. 

“tickles,” i laugh, “you’re being very distracting.”

“am i? i thought you were a pro at this.”

i briefly let go of the joycons, twisting my hands into his t-shirt and kiss him again. it’s a leisurely, slow kiss—mostly indulgent and lazy and soft. he cradles my face in one hand, holding the joint far away from us so he won’t burn one of us on accident.

a second later a thwack echoes in the room and we break apart, giggling, laughing louder when the ‘game over’ screen blinks at us. 

“look at that, you’ve killed link!” i poke his chest. 

he traces his thumb over my lip, dragging it down and letting it go. “i guess i am being distracting.”

i take the joint from his hands, handing him the controllers in return. “go on. your turn.”

“and what will you do?”

“stare at the rain, i think.”

i look behind me and out the window. it’s raining in sheets by now. so hard i can barely see the neighbour’s house anymore. the trees outside sway lightly, leaves dancing under raindrops. my head feels heavy, so do my eyelids. i could fall asleep like this, cocooned by the warmth of his body and surrounded by his smell. 

“you’d fall asleep,” he catches me instantly. or maybe it’s that my eyelids are already drooping and i’ve turned into a ball against his body. 

“would that be so bad?”

he hums, threading his fingers through my hair, tucking a stray strand behind my ear. i smile at his tenderness. 

“you’ve played two minutes of the game you insisted on playing!”

i pout at him, hoping the big eyes would have some effect on him. a second later he rolls his eyes and tucks my face into his chest. i feel him take the joint out of my hands, put it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. 

“this was your plan from the beginning, wasn't it!”

i shrug, already snuggling into him, as cosy as i can be while he restarts the game, goes through the same motions i was before but at a much faster rate. and even when my eyes close of their own accord, i can tell where he is in the game based on the soundtrack alone. 

“that’s you,” i point blindly at the screen. he pauses. 

“that…apple tree?”

“noooo,” i laugh, properly slurring my words. “link. brave knight rescuing the princess and everything. from nasty boss fights in your case.”

“alright, princess,” he chuckles and kisses the crown of my hair. “go sleep now. i’ll wake you up if something interesting happens.”

[dolores-hazy]

Raindrop patter sounds better

From under a shared umbrella

Sturdy hands helping to hold

A camera clicking pieces in place

Reflecting back beauty and grace

Facing the world with a smile

On an upturned face waiting

For the sun's caressing rays

These might not be enough words for

A picture--quite shy

Of a thousand--still there remains

Much heart herein contained

Soft and springy, soul to soul

Stirring whispery refrain

Singing in the rain

Dripping with sweet vulnerability

Rainbow blown into clearer skies

Set up for seeking sensitive eyes

Inspired by a song rec from @ending-thoughts, Eva Cassidy's "Kathy's Song"//also a happy birthday to @ending-thoughts...wishes which also went into inspiring this 💙💖

[tilbageidanmark]

Today I discovered the sad life and art of singer Eva Cassidy. She died in 1996 at the age of 33 - undiscovered - but her records sold millions since then. How incredibly beautiful!

One of her few recorded shows.

(Via)

[agracefulfall]

I hear the drizzle of the rain.

Like a memory it falls,

soft and warm continuing,

tapping on my roof and walls.

My mind's distracted and diffused.

My thoughts are many miles away.

[musicsweetmusic]

I heard the rain outside and I thought of this song. I love it.

[thumbnailandi]

And as I watch the drops of rain

Weave their weary paths and I

I know that I am like the rain

And there but for the grace of you

Go I

[lesbianjudasiscariot]

My mind's distracted and diffused / My thoughts are many miles away

[st4rshiptr00per]

[has my brain irreparably changed by the tiger book] oh ok. happy birthday to eight btw <3

[signed-sapphire]

Hey Wish rewriters, what Six character do you think your Asha would be?

I think TFS!Asha is Anne Boleyn solely because I don’t think any other Asha can represent that Boleyn drama the way TFS!Asha can

I really want her to be Anna of Cleves but sadly I don’t know if any Asha can pull off the gayness that “my jam comes on the lute *wink* looking cute” and “as he takes my fur *gasp* as you were” gives off 😔

[collateral-joy]

- Pre-Teen World Telethon

[shortkingvi]

gimme ur hot take on tswift/galoyrism (not me trying to get you killed)

my only hot take on taylor currently is just that ttpd is absolute dookie and i’m mad at her for it

gaylorism though???? i’ve told u about this before for SURE but i’ll repeat it here for everyone. i wanna write an academic paper on the following:

essentially, i think the whole gaylor phenomenon comes from a deep desire to queer the american dream. taylor represents the quintessential american who’s allowed to access the american dream: white, cis, straight, attractive, wealthy, popular, able bodied, etc. the only thing that doesn’t fall into the standard qualifications for the dream is her womanhood which is why she relies so heavily on boring neolib white feminism,,,,, a man can shout when a women must only whisper, that kinda shit

for gaylors though, this is insufficient. their major barrier of access to the american dream is typically their queerness; being a - usually - chronically online person means that they need to see a queerness that is not only socially accepted, but celebrated. so, they imagine this distant far off land where taylor comes out one day and it irrevocably shakes the foundation of the mainstream because she’s still the american dream except now she’s queer and that implies so many things for them

i’m not articulating this the best because tummy hurts and tired, but in essence i think that there’s an assumption that an out, queer taylor swift would be a roundabout way of allowing the dominant acceptable americanness metabolize queerness in a way that normalizes it entirely.

i saw a post from one of them once that was like “if taylor really is straight, doesn’t that make everything she does boring and no different from the million other straight stories we’ve heard before?” and like…. you are so close to the point, my love. A: she’s a human person and not a doll for you to dress up, so yeah, it would totally make things boring and unimaginative. but the bigger point is B: you’ve mistaken the fact that she’s always relied on ambiguity about muses as her giving secret hints of some illicit queer romance

she’s the absolute paragon of american cishet acceptability which is why if she were queer, that entirely changes the idea of who gets to access the dream. it’s wild stuff, but with some more research i really think that might be what it is

send me a 🔥 for an unpopular opinion!

[a1asta1r]

All my Love by Noah Kahan is such a pre-redemption Preston and Kathy song

[variousqueerthings]

cosmo brown and his orchestra

kathy selden and her funny boys

don lockwood and his self-esteem gang

[zepskies]

URL Tag Game

Url Tag Game: Spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters.

Thanks so much for the tag @lostloveletters! 💜 Hope you're having a wonderful Christmas/holiday!!

Zanzibar - Billy Joel

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Tears for Fears

Purple Rain - Prince

Stay Awhile - Journey

Keep Your Head to the Sky - Earth, Wind & Fire

Is This Love - Whitesnake

Eye of the Tiger - Survivor

Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin

No pressure tags: @chernayawidow @deans-spinster-witch @deanwinchesterswitch @thatonewriter15 @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @waywardlatina @wayward-dreamer

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: Goodbye Was Not Our End

Summary: Jon and Damian had made peace with the fact that they would never reconnect. Every little part of their childhood history, built up since preschool had come crashing down, both leaving hidden feelings unsaid. But now, five years later, they have the opportunity to fix everything that had gone wrong, and maybe, just maybe, they could make it something more.

Sometimes, all you need is a second chance.

set directly after A Robin's Song

The phone was taunting him.

It was dark green, a silver W on the back, and a clear case with a robin on it, and currently it was lying on the floor after being viciously thrown to the carpeted floor of Damian’s apartment.

Said person was pressed up against the bottom of his bed, mimicking a frightened cat, hair raised and all. Tears had dried quickly as the shock quickly overcame every other emotion in his mind. 

The phone buzzed and he jumped, crouching down to poke at the tech and flip it over before drawing his hand back.

This could not be happening. 

When everything had first occurred , he’d been plunged into the deepest, darkest canyon of his mind and emotions, no way out and no one to help him. He wallowed and oh, how he tried to drown himself in the abyss. 

He’d begged no one and everyone for a second chance, a moment back, just one more glimpse of what their lives had once been. His nights had been filled with quiet sobs and fitful sleep, before eventually going numb. 

Everyone around him tried to lift him up, help him out, save him from drowning. There was therapy and medication and the thing that was there when he finally, finally, finally had a grasp on the rope to be lifted out, was his family, his friends, and his music. 

Slowly, busying his mind with the music, he built his life back up, starting something new for himself.

And now?

Now he felt like he was back where he started, the repressed memories and the joy and the excruciating heartbreak overwhelming him, all topped with a healthy dose of fear.

He shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. It was a conversation. He had wanted this conversation for so long, and had always dreamed of a moment where he could try and get back what he had missed for so long.

When he opened his eyes, he made a grab for the phone, immediately clicking on the message saying he had a new DM. 

Written across the screen were the words “Hey, D. Missed you.” 

He turned around and promptly screamed into his pillow. Something burst inside of him, something fearful and tentative, but at the same time hopeful.

So, so, hopeful.

He typed in a response, deleting it just as soon as it appeared.

What do you say in a situation like this? 

An ‘i missed you too’ should suffice. He scanned the little box and deleted it. Too longing in the way his voice read it back to him

Should he just type back a hi? Maybe a familiar nickname? Was he still allowed to call him that?

Every little thing was put on trial and was thrown out, and before he knew it, fifteen minutes had passed.

He gave up, getting up to pace around his home in an attempt to shake the anxiety filling him. 

Their cat, Alfred, jumped on the counter as Damian began to brew some tea, absent-mindedly running his fingers through the cat’s short fluff.

“What am I doing?” He murmured to him, voice softly mournful. “What are we doing?”

Alfred meowed at him, and Damian nodded wearily. “Wise advice, Alfred.” 

He inhaled the steam from his tea, wrapping his hands around the mug and absorbing its warmth.

Damian retrieved his phone after a bit, clicking on a few messages he had missed with the friends he’d kept from high school, plus someone from the studio he grew close to as he had first started out in his career.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

gotSkyhighdreams: My 2 gradrs hate me u guys [cleanup.img]

Turninurfuckinbooks: this is why i don’t allow paint around small gremlins. 

Colinator: could never be me fr

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: rip sky

flyROBINfly: hey you guys something happened

Damian took a screenshot of the dm and cropped it, watching their messages pile on top of each other on screen.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

Turninurfuckinbooks: what did you do.

gotSkyhighdreams: did you kill someone 

Colinator: if you did i’ll help hide the body if u need

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: same just say the word an ill bring a shovel

flyROBINfly: do any of you watch my streams

Turninurfuckinbooks: not unless a compilation or an edit of u being stupid shows up

Colinator:same tbh

UunmatchdwittyandQUEEN: if the internet doesnt shut up abt a certain interview 

gotSkyhighdreams: when im on my lunch break ye

flyROBINfly: first off akira colin you are both dead to me

Second do you guys remember jon

Damian winced as the phone began to blow up, practically jumping from his hands with the pings that began to blow up his phone. It was a rather stupid question but he asked it anyway.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

Turninurfuckinbooks: do we remember jon he asks

Colinator: jon, who you ask me abt every six months without fail bc i have his instagram

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: jon who is forever known as that bitch in my heart

gotSkyhighdreams: nono we don’t at all remember the drama of the year that brought us together and kickstarted ur career

Turninurfuckinbooks: who you still pine for but have mostly forgotten about so you say

flyROBINfly: there has been no pining fuck off

Colinator: swear jar

flyROBINfly: anyways [screenshot.img]

gotSkyhighdreams: R U SRS

Turninurfuckinbooks: TF????

Colinator: WHAT

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: EXCUSE ME?!?!

flyROBINfly: what do i say???

Turninurfuckinbooks: block him

gotSkyhighdreams: say hi back??

Colinator: ask him for his insta so u can check urself

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: block him

flyROBINfly: so so helpful, all of you

never mind i’ll deal with it

The responses were overwhelming, but he felt petty and ignored them, setting his phone down and picking up the cat, setting Alfred on his stomach as he leaned back on the couch of the apartment.

“I’ve waited for this moment a long time, Alfred.” he informed the cat. “So very long and every planned thing left my mind the moment I saw him again.”

“What do you suppose he’s done now? Heard he got married, maybe he has a kid.”

Alfred meowed at him and he nodded. “I suppose you’re right. What would I ever do without you?”

That was how Duke found him thirty minutes later, lying on the couch having an avid conversation with their cat. 

He dropped his keys on the entrance table and his messenger bag hung on the coat rack, Damian sitting up.

“I am having a crisis.”

“When are you not?” Duke responded dryly. 

“Sarcasm is unbecoming and quite frankly patronizing at this moment.” Damian sniffed, Alfred wiggling out of his grapes and stalking over to Duke, rubbing his fur all over his ankles.

“I’m assuming it has something to do with today’s stream, right?” Duke pulled out his phone, waving it at him.

The online articles were blowing up, as well as various platforms. “I thought I'd ask you first before clicking on this.”

The feelings returned, an anxious churning sensation swirling around him and creating a lump at the back of his throat, pressing down and making the tearful feeling rear its head.

“I…it's Jon.” He pulled up the message and held it out, watching the impact of the words settle on his brother’s faces, eyes moving across his screen multiple times.

“Kent? Jonathan Kent? Are you sure it’s him?” He squeaked.

Damian nodded, the initial shock and feelings having faded slightly, although the remaining ones were funneled into anxiety, leg bouncing rapidly and fingertips tapping out a familiar rhythm.

“Did you respond?” He shook his head and Duke made a pained noise.

“So, you've been waiting for this for five years and the thing you do is leave him on read?”

Damian looked horrified. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God, he must think I'm such an asshole.”

Duke winced. “Well, I mean, this is a very telling moment for the both of you, I'm sure he understands, just respond.”

“What do I say??” Damian agonized over the phone, draping himself on the couch, and Duke was about fifty percent certain that their younger siblings spirits had come to possess Damian with their dramatic natures.

“Just say Hi. A simple hello, how have you been?” Duke prompted, nudging him. “If he’s an asshole, you know the rest of us will beat his ass for you.”

“Swear jar.” Damian said half-heartedly.

“I’m an ADULT!”

Duke got up but not before nudging Damian on the shoulder “I’m going to go and do some work, and when I come back, I expect to see a message sent.”

“I am older than you.” Damian scowled.

“And when you act it, I'll acknowledge that.” Duke had a shit eating grin on his face. “Dames, you mothered all of us pretty well til you left the house, so feel free to act your age or whatever.”

Sighing, Damian stared at the familiar logo on his screen. Nothing elaborate, just a diamond S in blue, red and yellow. They’d made them when they were younger, Damain creating the R symbol that came to be well known.

With a deep breath, he typed back, staring at his screen and waiting for the little bubbles to pop up, showing Jon was typing back a response.

It had been three hours since he’d sent the message to Damian, the typing bubbles popping up and dying back down just as quickly. The jumpiness caught up to him, obsessively checking his phone and pacing up and down his hallway. 

Kathy Brandon, someone he’d met his freshman year of college and quickly bonded with, had sent him links to people talking about both him and Damian followed by a demand for an explanation. Talking about it had calmed his nerves a bit, but he was still jumpy.

He’d gone out an hour after to pick up something, and had returned slightly more relaxed. He was attempting to edit the article he’d been assigned, procrastinating on his Chem homework, when finally, finally finally, a notification lit up his phone. 

Jon_Kent 

Hey, D

Missed you.

ROBIN_Offical

Hello, Jon. 

You already know I share your sentiment.

How have you been? It’s been…awhile.

Jeez, looks like sometime in these past few years Damian had swallowed a dictionary. Or was he upset? A grudge was understandable, but the way he’d sounded on the video…

Jon knew both of them wanted to reconcile, even if this new way of communication was slightly off-putting.

Jon_Kent

I’ve been alright.

lots of ups and downs from the few years

what about you? How’s ur family?

ROBIN_Official

They are doing well, as am I.

Duke and I have been staying outside of Gotham U

stephanie often stays with us

Are you still in Metropolis?

Jon winced at the way the conversation was read out. It was stilted and awkward, even over text. There was nothing relatively interesting about this, unlike when they were younger, never an awkward moment left between them, never running out of things to talk about.

Jon_Kent

yup, still here

Gotham U, huh? Thats not too far from here

ROBIN_Official

no, not very

I’m glad I was able to talk to you again.

Damian’s heart was pounding as he hit send. The message could be received in a few ways, and he hoped he wasn’t being too forward too early into the stiff conversation.

Jon_Kent

me too damian

I wasnt lying, i have missed you

i feel like this is a conversation better held in person then over phone

ROBIN_Official is typing…

Jon chewed on his bottom lip, having moved from the table to the kitchen counter. He wanted to see him in person, see the change and the things time had eroded from the image in his memory. Surely, in person the conversation would flow more, bring an atmosphere much closer to the way they used to be.

ROBIN_Official

Would you like to meet sometime this week?

I will have to check my schedule but i believe i’m free this friday

Damian was lying. He knew for a fact he was free on Friday, hell, he worked from home most days and could get away with driving to Metropolis tomorrow if he wanted, but rushing headfirst into a situation that required time most of all was something he didn't want to do.

Jon_Kent

that sounds good for me!

theres a nice little cafe around my apartment

we can meet up there if you want?

ROBIN_Official

sounds good. Send me the address and i’ll see you then

It sounded much more like he was organizing an appointment, but that was fine. God, he said yes. Jon let out a breathy laugh, hand over his mouth and he read the words again and again. 

Little footsteps pattered into the kitchen, and Jon set down his phone, looking down at a little girl with tanned skin, raven curls, and freckles.

“Daddy, hungry.” 

He smiled softly, lifting her up and setting her on his hip. “How does mac ‘n cheese sound, princess?”

Damian sat up, the anxiety resurfacing with a topping of nerves churning in his stomach. He took a screenshot, sending it to his friends, before announcing to Alfred the cat,

“Well, this Friday, I'm going to see my estranged best friend, who I pined for uselessly for somewhere around four years, and who I most certainly no longer have feelings for. We’re going to talk it out like the adults we are, and everything will be fine. How has your day been?”

The cat’s judgemental stare and incredulous meow was the only response he got.