#kerry how could you think this wasn’t a date

[laura-elizabeth-legaspi-weaver]

Kerry and Kim on their “not a date” dinner in Rescue Me 07x07

Kerry: You know what? I'm really very flattered. It's just that I'm, uh... I mean... gosh, you're such a beautiful woman. You're... you're so beautiful. But I'm... I... I'm straight... I mean, I don't... I'm straight. Oh, God. Oh, my God. I don't know... I don't know what's...

[promitto-amor]

Opportunity

It's been a WHILE since I was on Tumblr, but I find myself inspired to write and Mark Hoffman reappeared in Saw X at the most opportune time...

Summary: Mark Hoffman has a special interest in the Rook at his precinct. After she blows off post-work drinks for a date, Hoffman can't let the opportunity to make a move pass by when she turns up at the bar with a familiar date.

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Ivy Reeves (original character)

Warnings: Language!

There aren't nearly enough Mark Hoffman fics out there so this is my contribution. Who doesn't like a jealous Hoffman hmm? Ivy is mine from a fanfic I never finished years and years ago. I've brought her back for this one shot because she needed a name for this fic to work. Please feel free to insert your own name! This is pretty PG for me! Also I will forever headcanon that Adam lived. 👀

Mark didn’t like work drinks. Ever since he had been converted, the thought of alcohol always turned his stomach to lead. The temptation to once more travel down the path of blackout nights was always too great and Mark had to keep his wits about him.

He couldn’t afford to slip up. One slip up could spell the end for him.

Clenching his fist around the non-alcoholic beer that had sat in front of him for the last hour, Hoffman surveyed the throng of drinkers. Among them was Fisk, his occasional partner and first Detective on the Jigsaw case. A man that was too simple for this world, simple enough to have achieved the rare feat of never prompting Jigsaw to put him in a trap. Beside him was Rigg, a future victim, but for now Rigg could live his life in the ignorance that his time was being drained as fast as his third drink. Kerry looked how Mark felt. She’d spent most of the night staring at her gin, too down about Eric Matthews to be in much of a social mood, despite Rigg’s encouragements.

It seems that Matthews himself really was the life of the party. Too bad he’s stuck in some cell of Jigsaw’s making to join them for Friday night drinks.

The only other person who could have made the night somewhat better would have been Ivy. The youngest on their serial killer task team, Ivy had taken to staying late, volunteering to take on swabbing through the heaps of evidence recovered from the latest game. Whether this was due to a morbid fascination with Jigsaw’s modus operandi, or ambition to get ahead in her job, Mark wasn’t sure. But it certainly made the nights when he had to stay late less lonely. With his fellow co-workers becoming more despondent since Matthew’s disappearance, Ivy’s lack of inter-work relationships was refreshing.

Ivy made the best coffee in the office and was the only person to remember that Mark took his coffee black.

A body slumps down beside him, Fisk leans in close to him. “Reckon I’ll be able to get two weeks off?”

“You planning a vacation?” Mark tips back his glass and tries to finish it, but there’s too much left to down in one.

“Thinking of it.” Fisk admits, “I feel like things might be slowing down. I know we had one last week but…hey doesn’t look like anything big is planned.”

“Could just be a matter of time.”

“Maybe,” Fisk grins. “All the more reason to be out of the city when it happens.”

Mark would like to trap him for that alone, but sadly if he could have left New Jersey and Jigsaw behind, he would have been in Europe by now. There was a time when he thought about it. Around the time Ivy had become more present in the Jigsaw case, Mark had allowed himself to fantasise about starting a new life in another country. A new face and a warm smile to wake up next to. But John’s recent resilience across the border in Mexico had proved Mark will never be free until Jigsaw and his puppet apprentice were both dead.

Fisk casts a look round the bar, “Where’s the rook tonight?”

“You’ve gotta stop calling her that.”

”I know,” Fisk nods. “Force of habit, besides she is still new to the task force.”

“Even so she’ll punch you for that soon.”

“I notice you’re avoiding my question.” 

Fisk is eying him and so Mark has no choice but to grumble out, “She has a date.”

“Interesting.” Fisk enunciates every syllable and leans back on his bar stool. “Any idea who?”

“No.” Mark seriously considers ordering a shot, “That’s all I know.”

“Good for her.” Fisk says, “For making sure she has a life. Important that, you know?”

Mark’s known him long enough to get the hint, “I’m fine, Fisk.”

“I know,” Fisk says again, his eyes now on Kerry. “I guess better to be single than caught up with a married colleague.”

Maybe John would allow Fisk to be trapped on the basis of being a gossip?

The bar door opens a couple of times as Fisk continues to chatter about a variety of topics. Mark offers one worded answers whenever suitable. On the fourth time the bar door opened, Adam Stanheight walks through the door. He doesn’t know who Mark is, but Mark knows the wannabe PI well.

This kind of dive bar is where he’d expect Stanheight to frequent. A place where lost souls gather to watch the same generic rock bands, play pool and eventually hook up. Exactly why Mark’s precinct usually favours it. Easy to get lost in the flow of people that gather. It is not the sort of place anyone should bring Ivy Reeves on a date.

She slides in after Adam. Rigg spots her immediately and sends her an enthusiastic wave. Ivy pauses on seeing her coworkers, whispers something to Adam and he too looks over. Adam’s eyes dart from Rigg to Ivy and on her taking his hand the two make their way to the bar. Mark notes Ivy puts as much distance between their position and her position at the bar as possible.

Fisk’s eyes are watching everything unfold, “Isn’t that-“

“Yeah.”

“From the bathroom game.”

“Yes.”

“The one that just appeared.”

Ivy had been the one to speak with a nearly dead Adam Stanheight, who appeared at the Angel of Mercy hospital at some godforsaken hour. He’d been dumped in an empty bed and hooked up to an IV with saline solution. Apparently it had given the nurses quite the scare and when all Adam could say was the word ‘bathroom’, the hospital had been quick to call in the Jigsaw task force.

Mark knows who freed Adam. He’d heard the same rant from Amanda over and over about how interfering Doctors should stay in their lanes.

On that rare occasion, Mark had agreed with her.

Ivy’s eyes track across the room and Mark hopes she might be looking for him. Taking the opportunity before him Fisk calls out, beckoning Ivy over. Mark waits for her to find him and once she has Mark offers her a small nod. She looks away and her hand subconsciously tugs at her top. When she turns back to them Ivy holds up a finger and Fisk shoots a smirk at him.

“What are the odds?”

“She can date whoever she likes.”

“Never said she couldn’t” Fisk is watching him like Mark has become his favourite TV show. “You jealous?”

“She’s ten years or so younger.”

“So?”

“Shut it, Fisk.”

Ivy accepts a drink from Adam, who hasn’t stopped talking since they arrived and takes a cautious sip. When she thinks it’s been long enough, she glances over at Mark again. He catches her eye again and this time, Ivy has little choice but to whisper in Adam’s ear and make her way over to them.

“Did you know we were coming here?” Fisk ask as soon as Ivy’s in earshot.

“No,” She says, leaning in close to hear Fisk over the chatter. “Adam knows this place, an ex-friend of his used to play here.”

“Hoffman’s been missing you.”

Mark’s definitely putting Fisk in a trap. Even if he has to lie about the reason. Ivy’s eyes slip back to him, “I doubt that. You all look like you’re having so much fun.”

“Sarcasm?” Mark asks and Ivy sends him a shy grin.

Adam sidles up behind her. He rubs the back of his neck, “Didn’t think I’d see you guys so soon.”

“How you doing?” Fisk starts up small talk with Adam, as if he really cares about his recovery. This leaves Mark the perfect opportunity to corner Ivy. He stands up and leans on the bar, blocking Fisk and Adam from her line of sight. “How’s the date?”

Ivy sips her drink. Her eyes look in all directions but at Mark as she searches for her answer. She’s uncomfortable. But for what reason? Is it because she’s out with a victim of the case she’s working? Mark doesn’t even know if that would count as a conflict of interest. Ivy finally answers in a voice low enough that Mark has to lean in, “Adam’s my usual type. He’s nice enough, made me laugh on our first date.”

Mark places his empty glass on the bar top. “But not enough on a second date?”

Ivy’s fingers tighten on her own glass, “I thought I would enjoy it more than I am.”

“What’s wrong then?”

She glances over at Kerry and Rigg, “I should say hello to them.” She glances back to him, as if asking permission.

Mark seizes the opportunity, “You knew we were going here. Did you convince him to take you here tonight?”

Mark didn’t need to be a Detective to read the guilt that washes over her. “I wasn’t feeling it much when I agreed to go out again. I thought if we came here, where you were, I’d have an easier way out.”

He presses in a little closer to her. Ivy’s eyes jump over his shoulder, like a skittish doe, no doubt checking on Adam. Mark knows he’s sizing her up, the dare evident in how he’s gotten so close to her. “Do you need a way out, Ivy?”

“No.” She balks and takes a step back. She tips her drink back, places the glass on the table and crosses the short distance to reclaim Adam from Fisk. She leads her ‘date’ over to the pool tables and Mark retakes his seat by Fisk.

“I like him.” Fisk announces, “He plays electric guitar.”

“He still stalking people and taking their pictures?”

Fisk shakes his head, “Didn’t ask, but I doubt it.”

Mark’s eyes stalk Ivy as she collects the pool cues. Adam is lining up the balls and then he’s leaning over Ivy, helping her break. Not that she needs help. Mark’s certain Ivy’s played before, judging by how she lines up her shot and pockets a stripe.

“I’m going home.” Mark announces, “Someone’s gotta be coherent in the morning.”

“Yeah, me too.” Fisk nods, “I’ll tell the others.”

Mark sidles over to the back exit, where he’ll deliberately pass by Ivy. She’s leaning against her pool cue, chalking up the end when Mark presses himself behind her to get past. “Your opportunity is leaving.” He murmurs in her ear, hands finding her waist. He knows it’s a cheap move, but Ivy tenses deliciously under his touch. He doesn’t care whether Stanheight is watching or not. Mark pushes open the back door and heads for his car, parked just a couple of feet away.

Thankful he’s made it another night without drinking, Mark puts the key in the ignition and waits a couple minutes. Just as he’s about to drive away, the backdoor opens. Ivy walks straight for his car, opens the passenger door and climbs in.

Mark leans back in the driver’s seat and waits for her to speak.

“Just take me home, Mark.”

“I don’t know where you live.”

She turns her head to face him, “Yes, you do.”

Mark sets off. He lets the silence linger between them as Ivy plays with her fingers. The small bag she’s been carrying around all night is on her lap. Mark can tell the silence is eating at her, but she’s too stubborn to speak first. When they are less than five minutes away, Mark gives her some mercy. “What did you say to get away?”

“I said forensics had found something.” She heaves a sigh and runs a hand over her face, smudging some of her mascara. She’s still beautiful to Mark.

“Why’d you lie?”

“Because I wanted to be with you.”

Her admission unsettles him as much as it pleases him. To have won another kind of game, one Mark has rarely ever let himself play is thrilling. He could see how it could become addictive, but Mark isn’t going to be smug about it. Not much. “I didn’t think you’d entertain the idea of someone like me.”

It should be more of a warning than it is. He should be pulling over, telling her to get out. Mark knows he should do everything he can to make her hate him. But Mark can only resist one temptation tonight.

Ivy doesn’t answer as he pulls up outside her apartment block. Mark smirks as the cliche, loaded question leaves him, “Do you want me to walk you upstairs or are you good?”

Finally, she looks at him, “Do you want to?”

He bites back a growl. “Of course I fucking want to.” He says, holding onto the last remnants of his restraint. “You’ve been on my mind all fucking night, Reeves.”

She reacts at once, climbing across the gearbox and onto his lap. Mark just pushes the seat back in time as Ivy settles herself. His hands don’t know where to hold, his bravado from earlier abandons him when Ivy is bearing down on him in all areas. She looks down at him for a second and then her lips are on his. 

--------

How tempted I was to keep this going, but sometimes a tease is better than full smut no? You can let your imaginations go wild from here. 😈

[thebetawolfgirl]

Bonding Time

Pairing:Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Smut. There’s a teeny tiny bit of toxicity between the two.

A/N: If you don’t like complete smut Smut smut then this series won’t be your cup of coco!

Bonding Time

Y/n stood on the sideline as she watched her mother saying her vows with her new man. She wondered how long this marriage would last. Don’t get her wrong, Greg was a very nice guy and he was head over heels in love with her mother and treated her like a Queen, the problem wasn’t Greg it was her mother. She changed her mind like y/n changed her jewellery, she was actually surprised when both of them announced they were getting married. The only upside of this whole thing was Greg’s son, Timothée, they didn’t like each other at first in fact they hated each other. They constantly riled each other up to the point she would turn and throw something, anything at him, an ashtray, a glass. They were always arguing and fighting, but each parent eventually ignored them saying they would get used to being around each other at some point.

But over the past few weeks something was different, they didn’t argue as much. In fact it was their parents who had began arguing more and more and they had been spending more time together usually in each other’s rooms so as not to have to listen to the fighting alone. One night something happened, during the wedding preparations both parents were arguing downstairs again and y/n was in her bed listening to the raised muffled voices when her door opened and Timothée came in shutting the door behind him. ‘Hey you okay?’

‘Yeah I’m fine, just bored of this bullshit.’ She sighed sitting up slightly.

‘The fuck are they arguing about this time?’

‘Apparently your dad invited someone called Kerry or Carrie?’

‘Terri? All this noise because of Terri?’ She nodded.

‘Who is she anyway?’

‘She’s the daughter of an old friend of my dad’s. He’s known her since she was a baby. She used to babysit me. Jesus Christ!’

Y/n sighed hearing a glass break downstairs. ‘Can you stay? I don’t want my mother crawling in beside me when she’s drunk and crying.’

Timmy looked at her before nodding in beside her and draping his arm lazily around her waist. The room was still in complete darkness so they couldn’t see each other very well but they could hear each other’s breathing.

‘I’m sorry for throwing that ashtray at you, I was just in one of my bad moods’

‘It’s fine, I deserved it. I shouldn’t have handled you like that.’

They looked at each other in the dark their eyes adjusting slowly.

‘Why did you act offended when Stacey asked you that truth?’

She could feel his breath on her face as he asked the question.

‘I don’t know. I think it’s because she asked the question, if anyone else asked it would’ve been a simple no.’

She felt him nod and heard his hum.

‘Why do you care?’

‘I don’t, I was just as pissed off as you when Stacey asked it.’

‘I think she wanted to know because she wants to fuck you. I mean you have been dating for 3 weeks why haven’t you slept with her yet?’

‘She’s not as soft as you are’ he mumbled in reply before he pulled her closer getting more comfortable around her and she sighed shuffling down against her bed to get comfortable with him and ended up tangled with him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. ‘True I am built more softly than Stacey whereas she’s all muscle and hard and… manish.’ She made a face and began playing with his hair ‘What the hell is she training for’

‘Maybe she’s training to kick your ass’ he mumbled against her chest sniggering

She glared at his head in the dark and moved her knee between his legs but before she could reach her target he grabbed her throat and pushed her head back into the pillow ‘Don’t even think about it little girl’

‘Ow, Timmy fuck off, fine you win.’

She grabbed his wrist and struggled against him before he let her go ‘Good. And I always win.’

He smirked and wrapped his around again and she did the same mumbling ‘Dick’

She felt his smirk grow wider and sat up slightly pulling him up by his hair and licked a trail from his chin to his top lip hearing the noise in the back of his throat and smirked hearing him grumble ‘Fuck you’re such a bitch y/n.’

She chuckled at him laying back again. They started playing this game of having the last word, only it had become more physical although this was the first time she had done that. He lay down again this time on top of her and rested his chin on her chest between her breasts.

‘It’s gone quiet, who do you think walked out first this time?’ He asked as she listened too ‘Hmm sounds like both of them. It’s too quiet if that makes sense?’ He nodded agreeing with her.

‘Let’s just stay here and enjoy this peace while it lasts.’

She looked at his shadow and nodded in agreement and ran her hands up his back and brought her knees up so he was resting between her legs and listened to him sigh contentedly and moved her fingers through his curls ‘You don’t let Stacey do this do you?’

He closed his eyes and made a negative noise ‘I don’t let Stacy lick me either, I also don’t lay on her like this.’

She listens to his breathing calmly and continues to rub his back under his shirt before he sits up and removes it laying back on top of her. ‘Better.’ She instantly moves to run her fingers over his back when he lifts her pyjama top up mumbling ‘More skin’

She nods and pulls it off tossing it aside letting him bury his face in her chest.

‘Fuck this foreplay, Timmy just fuck me.’

‘Thank fuck’ he rips the rest of their clothes off and rams into her without warning knocking the air out of her lungs, as he flips them pulling her on top to ride him. Once she gets her breath back she does exactly that and goes hard not holding back as he runs his hands up and down her torso grabbing parts of skin he can reach.

He sits up with her and kisses and bites her neck and shoulder wrapping his arm around her waist and digs his fingers into her ribs making her gasp and throwing her head back.

‘Ah Timmy.’ She grabs him by his neck with both hands and kisses him open mouth pushing backwards riding him into the mattress. He felt the whole bed frame move with them the headboard hitting the back wall, he hoped the house was empty because no one would mistake these noises downstairs. They broke the kiss and y/n buried her head against his neck and rode him harder panting as he gripped onto her skin damp with sweat and he rammed his hips upwards to meet hers feeling his eyes roll back into his head from the joint force and heard her squealing against his neck and felt her nails drag down his back as they came together as their orgasms exploded around them. They were both sticking together on their skin with perspiration panting against each other heavily.

Y/n lifted her head and he pushed her hair from her face and kissed her sloppily which she returned with tongue. They broke away still licking each other trying to catch their breathes before rolling her over and laying on her chest.

‘What now?’ He asked as she played with his hair again.

‘Let’s call this our bonding time.’

He chuckled and moved his head up trailing his tongue and teeth up her chest and neck before reaching her mouth ‘We should have more bonding time.’ She smirked against his mouth before breaking away licking up his lips again. ‘We will.’

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

[silverdynetrutherr]

i wrote this little fic about kerry and v in the tower ending and got upset when nobody really read it sorry i’m shallow like that so here it is in full;

it’s not very long and if you do read please lmk what you think 🙏

Kerry’s hair had grown longer, reaching his shoulders generously now. It was darker than that platinum blonde colour he used to have. It was a silver now, loose curls created shade to make it look greyer. It wasn’t very often soft, courtesy of the product he used to curl it. Kerry’s hair was never naturally curly. He had been through phases in his life where he had loose curls, waves, more like. Now he was more concerned about heat damage, and tended to avoid hot curlers where he could. When the loose curls fell out, in the shower, in harsh winds that he always loudly groaned at, it was about an inch longer, and looked brighter. It looked soft today.

Where Kerry’s head was laid on V’s lap, V took note of all the times he had thought of Kerry’s hair. And all of the other intricate, minor details about him. Like the way his left eye twitches when he sleeps, the way V was sure it was right now, the way he got silently frustrated when his knuckles wouldn’t crack, the way stopped for a second look every time he saw a picture of the ocean.

He was snoring lightly, as he always did, lying on his left side, sound asleep for a short while in the afternoon.

In the home they had, outside of the city somewhere, a quieter place, they sat on the couch which had excessive, eccentric blankets. The floors were wooden, a dark, rich mahogany which complimented the walls.

V ran his hand over Kerry’s head repeatedly as he slept, he hadn’t intended to soothe him to sleep but the gentle, even breaths had indicated it had happened anyway.

It was quiet, to both of them it’d be known as silent. All that could be heard was gentle breaths and distant cars owned by peaceful people. There was a just as peaceful light that bled into the room, that grazed and graced everything it touched like discreet glitter. The room was warm, it was summer. V’s chest felt warm, he was in love. Light shone in through the windows, dulled into fragments, streaks that lit up the room still. On the only slightly dusty windowsill, there were equal streaks on the wood that were sun-bleached lighter, evidence of living, and open curtains.

His hand moved to brush over Kerry’s cheek, moving stray hair behind his ear, careful not to wake him up. He wanted everything to stay exactly like this. Where he could watch the curtains sway with the breeze, where he could run his hands over Kerry’s head and look at the way the rings on both their fingers glimmered in the light. Where he could think uninterrupted.

And he thought about, often, how it had been five years since he had been sat on that AV with Johnny. The sun bled in through the wide open door in a similar way to how it was now. He didn’t remember the date, he didn’t think it would be significant enough an event to do so. But he thinks of how it had gotten to that point. He thinks of every moment shared, every word said and those he couldn’t remember that he had with Johnny. It was a story, a timeline of events that felt so distant now, before growth. The memory of that specific moment, or, of several moments only hours between one another; calling Reed, discussing with Johnny, boarding the AV, and the others.

It had been five years since he had sat on that AV, feeling his brows tense together in sorry determination.

There was something in him, then, that kicked, screamed, and begged him to leap off onto the nearest building and look for another way. A pulling force that yanked through skin, bone and soul, that wasn’t strong enough to stop him.

He had looked at Johnny, and only truly being able to recognise what he had felt for him then and there, when the sedatives kicked in. He had loved him.

‘Soulkiller’ suggested that the use of the relic was to connect two souls, something deeper than a mind, or the person hoarding it. It was an intricate interlocking of the integral parts of someone’s being; their soul. Johnny had died before. He had died in a violent, painful way V wouldn’t have wished on anybody. And then he got to know him, feel him within every nerve cell that fired a signal, shared substance, it was followed by love.

He made the choice to let that go. He made the choice to take all that was left of Johnny’s soul, and to trample every hope, wish and dream he ever had, and every moment they had shared together. But then again, they were never singular moments. What they had was an unbroken line of shared existence, one moment, prolonged. V made the choice to make it so that nowhere, in any place on earth, feet on ground or metaphysical, would be home to Johnny. V thought about it a lot, like he was now, and had done for the past three years he had spent conscious.

There was nowhere for Johnny to sit.

Where was he going to sit?

There were two fighting forces on the AV, two colliding ideals which V had of what his future looked like. He held both very dear to him, ever the dreamer. One, in which he really could have seen himself laughing with Johnny in murky or luxurious bars after gigs, the one that he could have seen himself scoring jobs from the top fixers, and not needing to ask if Johnny would tag along. He would have made a name for himself, and been able to feel Johnny’s heart beating fast under bones he alone owned. The other, in which he really could have seen himself spending days and nights in Kerry’s villa, on the couch watching whatever Kerry wanted to put on. Sitting on the floor on rainy days, chin on his knee as he listened to Kerry bounce ideas for songs around in his head. Falling asleep to quiet distant rock songs in the dark, with his forehead pressed to Kerry’s nape. Going to crazy expensive restaurants, hating the food and opting for cheap pizzas at Caliente’s. Late night swims in the pool, watching Kerry perform to filled out stadiums from the stage wing. Kissing, laughing, feeling, knowing. Such a plausible, tangible life that V knew Kerry wanted, and only wanted with him. Only one of these ideas would have ever been possible. Kerry had a home, a career, friends, connections, income and a body. Johnny had none and V had jumped through these loops of justification for years, and years, and years. And he wonders if he was there again, making that decision, would it be the same.

And he knows it would be. The same way he knows Kerry’s left eye twitches when he sleeps, the way he got silently frustrated when his knuckles wouldn’t crack, the way stopped for a second look every time he saw a picture of the ocean. The way he knew that he never could have felt Johnny’s skin on his own, the same way he knew it would not feel better than the way Kerry’s felt. V could think in circles for the rest of his life, but the fact was that he didn’t want anything more than what he had now. He didn’t want to ‘find another way’ to save his life when it did not exist, and it did not exist. The fact was that nothing in the world would have stopped him. No single thing on Earth or anywhere else could have changed his mind about using the neural matrix, not a two-year coma, not Kerry literally being in space, and not V’s love for Johnny. Not when Johnny had loved him just as much, and forgave him so easily, like there was nothing to forgive.

And he looked at the framed photograph of himself and Kerry, on the small table by the couch, which captured the two before they had moved out here, a moment where Kerry had grabbed V’s face and kissed his cheek. He was trying to be annoying, but the photo only showed V laughing, and there was nothing to forgive. Kerry had once told him to take his own advice. For all the times V had told Kerry that everything with Johnny was in the past, that it didn’t matter anymore, he only realised that it was easier said than done after Johnny was gone, again. But Kerry got through, he had done it. Through one last gig, grenades and fire on water, Kerry had outgrown it. And V was doing it. Through strokes of his cheek, meals indoors, quiet, and an amulet in the bedside drawer. He was doing it.

Kerry started snoring on V’s lap. The attitude of ‘fuck everything else’ was learned, as was peace. Getting to know Kerry on a deeper level than braindance music videos and billboard advertisements was, by all accounts, a blessing. V had seen his face all his life, known his voice the same way everyone did. The learning of the pattern of his soul, his integral being, what made Kerry Eurodyne, Kerry. It was special, like the first daffodils that blossom in spring, not only because there were so few who could say they had seen Kerry at his most vulnerable, most relieved, most disappointed, most ecstatic, his core, but because nobody else breathing shared what Kerry had in his soul. His spirit, unique and rare, he was someone that you could look for in every person that you had ever met, will ever meet and still never find him, not a trace. V had noted that despite all people being people, individual with their own stories, hopes and dreams, every person could be found in another, a shared list of defining aspects that stopped them from being unique, and made them common, carbon copy cut-outs of the average person. Kerry was the kind of person poets wrote about, made art with words about. His comprehension of emotions, his movement through them, fluid and unsteady. The way his thoughts, feelings always materialised into perfect, physical expressions, the way his actions reflect his story like fire on water. How deeply his emotions were felt, like the roots of a tree, foundation. The way he recognised patterns in his life, and had several surf boards in his villa, just for when he wanted to go to the ocean. Of course, he could not surf. So, the way he had several surf boards, but could not surf. There were lines, after lines of ways V could have put into words what he felt about Kerry. He didn’t believe that he could have done it justice, he was no poet, or writer, not like Kerry was. But he had the rest of his life now to learn more about him, see his habits and the strings of his soul that burned when they were played, and he had the rest of his life to see that even if he was no poet, no lyricist, he could think. And fuck everything else, Kerry had his head laid on his lap as V thought. Fuck everything else.

It was a guilty truth, the way V felt about the entire situation, his whole life. Because he didn’t regret a thing.

When it came down to it, to the core truth, Johnny had no chance, even without V. Even if V had let himself die, merge into another person until there was none of him left, what would Johnny have become? He had made up his mind long ago, about life, about Kerry.

Johnny wouldn’t have made more music, he had tied that part of himself to Kerry, and it was gone. Realistically, he would have caught a bus somewhere else, have found and made his own way. It was not what either Johnny or V had wanted for him. It was always all or nothing.

There was no all, there was nothing.

There was no beating heart, no breathing lungs, only an artificial psyche filled with hidden love, boundless compassion and none of it mattered. There was nothing to save, and V had already saved Kerry and fuck everything else.

He had given up, they both had. And while V and Johnny had discussed that choice, somewhere in the sky, Kerry sat somewhere in Westbrook, waiting with a bouncing knee for a call from V. To say hi.

He ultimately ended up waiting two years for that call. In that two years V had spent under, his entire world had passed him by, like a rough ocean wave he was too far below the surface to feel. When Kerry had picked up that call, coming from the all white room to the Crystal Palace, V felt grounded. When Kerry spoke to him, with nothing but an ecstatic celebration, it was a lifeboat. And then V had seen it was all for something. Unlike Johnny, V was never all or nothing, he saw the way Kerry spoke, realistic, accomplished and he had something. He had waited four months, in which he had seen his home and the wider world move, shift and change into something he didn’t recognise. He was navigating a foreign world, one without Arasaka, without his favourite fixers, without everyone he had made a bond with and one in which all he had was waiting. A world in which he was just a face in the crowd. Those four months were long. He watched the sun rise every morning, and set every night, before he had worked up the nerve to take himself to Kerry’s villa. He had told himself he was just going to tidy the place up a bit, having assumed it was still in a state. He was right. But after everything was clean and tidy, and V almost didn’t recognise the place, he didn’t leave. Everything in the house had its place, where it fit and belonged, and the only place V belonged all along the West Coast was there, alongside it all. He didn’t know what he and Kerry were, if Kerry had moved on. That was what he had spent so long working towards, anyway, if V was the one that taught him how to be individual, not waste his life in mourning, in faithful waiting. He hadn’t known what Kerry would want when he came back home.

But there was one aspect that V had failed to take into account. Kerry had matured, become a great version of himself in which he could find his own way, his own happiness. Kerry was not codependent like he used to be, and it was good. But what V did not understand was that despite all his growing and his learning, that was just the way Kerry loved. How he did it.

Kerry carried his love within his soul. A part of him, as was V. and V could only see this, this overwhelming entirety when he had felt Kerry’s lips on his again.

And the rest was history, everything that came before was history. V had wrapped his arms around Kerry and they had shared this moment in which they just talked, thumbs stroking over hands, connection.

The day that Kerry had come home, the two had learned so much more about one another, and everything that they had both feared fell away. Kerry thanked V for tidying the place up, and for coming back to him alive with a promise of ‘surviving one year with a rockstar’. It was unsaid, it didn’t need to be sworn in words that V would more than survive, and do so for more than just a year, for many, many to come.

Kerry stirred in his sleep, breaking V out of his chain of thoughts, a flow that only one person could have interrupted. V notices that his hand had never stopped stroking over his hair, and the sun had moved through the sky until it shone through the window in an unfortunate position, right over Kerry’s eye. V rested his hand on Kerry’s cheek as he raised his hand to cover his eye, groaning. He shuffled, using V’s knee as leverage to push himself to sit up. He rubbed over his face and the sun on his hair made it look white. V huffed a small laugh.

‘Sleep okay?’ he murmured, moving his hand to resume its position on Kerry’s cheek, and his hand followed to place his hand over V’s.

‘Mhm. had a dream about you,’ Kerry said, blinking slowly.

‘Oh yeah? ‘Bout what?’ V leaned in a little closer, and Kerry laughed as lightly as V had.

‘What, you couldn’t tell by the noises i was making?’

‘You were only snoring, unfortunately.’

Kerry laughed, shoving V’s shoulder. ‘Looks like you’ll have to fuck me better than dream Vincent, tonight.’ he said as he leaned in for a short kiss.

‘You’re the boss.’ V smiled.

Johnny might’ve been a faceless memory, and V might have only been a face in the crowd now, but out here, where the sun shone through the window, and the trees swayed in the June breeze, there were no crowds. And if there ever came a time again in which the two were lost in one, which was sure to happen, V knew Kerry would spot his face from a mile away, standing out. And that was enough for V.

It was everything.

[elvenbeard]

Paranoia

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic

Summary: Something is off with V's medication, but there are many leads and the clock is ticking. What is Mr. Blue-Eyes planning and who is the rat that sold V out? With little expectations, Kerry begins an investigation on his own. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 11/?, 6999 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V - notes at the end) >> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

“Vik told you to take it easy, Vince,” Kerry urged, placing his hands on V’s shoulders from behind. He had been lingering on his desk ever since they’d come home instead of finally joining Kerry on the couch downstairs. Watch a show, or just listen to music, just… exist and forget about all the existential dread at least for an hour or so, but no...

V’s half-empty martini glass stood close by the left edge of the table. Gently massaging V’s tense muscles, Kerry leaned down to give him a quick kiss on his flushed cheeks. He hadn’t made his drink that strong, as requested, but V just really didn’t react well to alcohol. In a way it was adorable. This seasoned merc, Night City’s bad boy number one, couldn’t hold his liquor.

“One sec,” V said, a little absentminded, eyes glued to the screen displaying a timelapse of various views of security cam footage of their penthouse. Kerry suppressed a sigh, and he opted now to loosely wrap his arms around V’s shoulders, trying to get his attention away from the computer like this. When he would not budge still, he rested his chin on V’s head and then reluctantly looked at the screen as well.

Selected in the security system’s overview was one of the cameras in the garage, the one in the elevator, one in the armory. Three more that overlooked the exterior of the house, including the entrance. Kerry knew of a couple more that V wasn’t monitoring at the moment. The timestamp in the corner of the footage was racing backwards, as was the video itself, and V had reached mid-August, briefly after they’d moved in here. The recordings eventually stopped at various still frames of him testing the setup on the day he’d had it installed.

“I wish I had footage of my old apartment,” V murmured, more to himself than to Kerry, “Was still spending a lot of time there when I got the first batch of pills from Vik.”

“Nothin’ suspicious here?” Kerry asked.

“No… at least, nothin’ apparent, as in…,” he gestured vaguely, “Masked intruders with blue glowing eyes.”

Kerry chuckled at his sarcastic undertone.

“That would be too easy.”

“I guess…” V shrugged, finally leaning back into Kerry’s embrace now, although with the backrest of his chair between them it was kinda awkward. Kerry shuffled and shifted slightly to better see V’s expression.

“How’s your head?” he almost didn’t dare to ask.

“Alright,” V said, eyes unfocused, but then he paused, “No actually it… was better earlier. Think Vik’s stuff’s startin’ to wear off. But I’ll manage.”

Kerry lowered his head and briefly closed his eyes. The heat of his own drink long worn off he basked in the warmth V was radiating. His warmth, his glow… how many more – or how few – setbacks would it take until it would all fade away forever?

“I gotta cross-reference this with my schedule,” V changed the topic back to the footage, “What date I got which batch of pills, and then see if there’s any weirdness here around those timeframes… Second prescription was around the time we moved in, but there were so many people in and out all the time… And if they got here before the security system was up and running the next best thing is the building’s surveillance outside, but that’s shitty quality and bad angles…”

V rubbed his face with his right hand and took a deep, heavy breath, as if an immense weight lay on his chest. Kerry clutched him a little tighter.

“Ooor, “he suggested in an attempt to ease the tension, “You could just chill until Nix does his job. ’Cause if this AJ chick lied to ya, you’re wastin’ a lot of energy on somethin’ pointless right now.”

“Don’t think she was lying…” V shook his head and finally moved to get up, Kerry letting him, “If she did, she should apply at some corp’s CI department. Better suited there instead of a dingy drug lab.”

He slipped out of his chair and picked up his leftover martini in one fluid motion, bringing the glass to his lips with some reluctance though.

“Y’know, I’ll happily finish it for ya,” Kerry offered with a wink, his forearms resting on the chair’s backrest now, fingers loosely interlocked as he played with one of his rings. V’s eyes met with his, a challenging glimmer in them, a cheeky smirk on his lips. He emptied the rest of his drink in one go. Letting out a long, deep breath V set the glass down and leaned back against the desk, healthy hand holding on to the edge for support.

“I’m so gonna regret this, but…” he still smiled at Kerry, “Not gonna lie, that was pretty good.”

“Despite the olive?” Kerry teased, then slowly pushed the chair aside, and stepped in front of him.

“Even that wasn’t so bad,” he said as Kerry’s hands trailed down V’s sides, then slipped under his t-shirt. Kerry grinned when goosebumps rose under his fingertips as they wandered around V’s waist, down to the small of his back.

“Picked a good one,” he said, trying to keep his mind from wandering as well, too fast, too far.

“Yeah, I did,” V smiled, and Kerry paused for a moment, noticing the slight tilt of V’s head, how he pursed his lips, amber eyes looking up at him through long dark eyelashes. Yeah… he wasn’t talking about the olive anymore.

“Gonk,” he muttered, but then he leaned in, no longer able to resist to kiss V’s cheeks and neck and chest, tongue and lips guided by the dark pink flushes speckled all across pale skin.

“What was that about takin’ it easy?” V whispered hoarsely, grabbing on to Kerry’s waist, leaning into his touch.

“Yeah… you lean back and relax,” Kerry breathed against his neck, “And lemme do what I’m good at…”

V giggled as Kerry slowly guided him over to their bed, accompanied by more kisses, little gasps, and fleeting touches.

Drunk sex usually guaranteed that V would be out cold (blissfully, of course) for at least a couple of hours afterwards. It had been one rollercoaster of a day and night… of a week, really, with both of them getting too little restful sleep. So, Kerry hoped this impromptu afternoon nap would do V good, or at the very least give him a little rest from everything. He seemed at peace at least, lips slightly parted, breathing slowly and deeply, huddled into their lightweight silk blanket the same way he’d been this morning. Kerry stayed by his side for a little while longer, just watching… but Lee and Vicki and a few other studio assholes kept messaging him, interrupting their domestic bliss once again.

They had been trying to get in touch all day, reminding him of deadlines, work that needed to be done, promo events, concerts, collabs… And Kerry had been patiently ignoring them while out and about with V. All he wanted was to stay in bed with him now, help him get the help he needed, force him to take it easy when he just wouldn’t listen to his doctors telling him to.

He lightly brushed his fingers over V’s cheek, the hint of patchy dark stubble along his jawline, eyes lingering on his pulse point for a moment. Kerry had sucked an almost purple bruise into his flesh, right where skin and cyberware met, as V had been flinching and whimpering under him…

Blip beep. Another message from Lee forced the steamy mental image out of Kerry’s head. He huffed and quickly checked his phone, with no intention to respond.

“The situation in regard to the video is somewhat under control now,” it read, and Kerry shuddered, “But N54 News’ showbiz representative sent in another exclusive interview request. They agreed to scratch the questions that had been bothering you in their previous e-mail, but in return they want a statement on the video and your relationship status. Same conditions as before. I think this is as great chance to clear things up and gain you some sympathy – also in light of already circulating rumors. I wrote up some possible responses (attached below) if you want to read them in advance! Maybe we can meet up some time later today, or tomorrow or… whenever fits best. To talk things through, discuss the next steps for the album and everything else. Please just quickly let me know if you’ve read this so I know you’re okay and onboard!”

Kerry suppressed an annoyed groan to not wake V. After a few more minutes of failing to doze off as well, he decided to get up. Drink some more maybe, have a smoke. Smash his phone with a hammer. In fact, what he really wanted was to get high out of his mind, knock himself out with vodka and pills, and sleep for 72 hours straight. Had he been alone, just lil’ old Kerry back at his villa in North Oak… he probably would’ve, and without hesitation.

Instead, now, he slipped into his bathrobe hanging over the gallery’s rail, and as he passed by V’s desk to get to the kitchen, his eyes got caught by the screens once more. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that V was still asleep. He had been so sure to find something suspicious on the security footage… but he’d also been high on Vik’s drug cocktail, dizzy from drinking Kerry’s actual cocktail, and pre-occupied with too much else. No surprise he hadn’t succeeded. If there even was anything to find at all.

Then again, Kerry barely knew what he was doing when it came to their house’s security system either. He had left these types of things to his management team for decades, and so far, that had worked out just fine. Mostly, at least. V had said himself, back when they had this installed here, that there simply was no system that was one hundred percent safe and impenetrable. There were always loopholes, exploits to use, and all that other fancy tech terminology Kerry only half understood but loved to hear V talk about.

“You can never fully rule out human error, either,” was what he liked to say.

Hence why Kerry felt a little silly when he pulled out the desk chair after standing, staring, and pondering it all for too long. All camera views were still selected in the review tool, V was visible in one of them, the 180 degrees view into the armory. He was looking up at the lens, at Kerry, pensive and serious. The timestamp read “August 3rd 2077 – 11.46 a.m.“. Just a little over a month ago, but he looked so much less tired than he did most days now. But also, at this point, he must’ve already been working for Blue-Eyes behind the scenes. Kerry realized that maybe that was exactly why he had been so keen on upgrading the security system before they’d even properly settled in.

Kerry sighed, leaned back in the chair, and then pulled up his own schedule. They’d just talked about it, the day Viktor had delivered more bad news to V regarding his initial treatment plan was the same day Kerry finally got out of the contract with Kovachek. The same day Blue-Eyes got in touch with his convenient help offer. He had to scroll past walls of texts and messages, but he finally found the invitation for the meeting with the studio bosses. July 22nd. Yeah, no footage for that. They had been talking about moving in together for a while at that time already though… early, really, given how they first met back in May only. But V had spent most of his nights at Kerry’s villa anyway, and Kerry sought refuge at V’s apartment all other days. Finding a place for them both together had simply felt like the right next logical step. It still did, more than ever. And with how little time they seemed to have left at the moment, there was no “too soon” for nothing, really…

Kerry held the thought and continued to scroll further up through his appointments on his planner’s interface. The scheduled meeting during which Lee had signed him on, a few days after the final conversation with Kovachek. The appointment with the realtor to view the penthouse. Moving in day, various important events at the recording studio, and with medias. A handful of parties, occasions, dinner dates with V sprinkled in-between, an invitation from River to come over some time… He hesitated for a moment at August 20th. It had been surprisingly hard again this year, but V made it easier, like so many other things...

After a few more studio-related appointments Kerry had reached present time.

He looked back at the computer screen in front of him, had to search for a play button. Then the recordings started moving again, at a quite high speed.

“Ah fuck…” Kerry hissed and looked for a way to slow the footage down, clicking some random buttons, but without success. Before accidentally deleting something, Kerry decided to just keep his eyes peeled for anything out of the usual as best as he managed, but there was nothing too obvious… Them both or either of them leaving and coming back home every day around similar times, AVs or delivery drones landing outside. There was quite the commotion with the moving company in the beginning, lots of strangers all at once, but Kerry didn’t recall any of them behaving weirdly, or even getting near where V stored his pills at the time.

Since there was only about a month of footage sped up dramatically, Kerry opted to just restart it a handful of times whenever he reached the end. Lee showed up in person at the entrance quite often in the beginning, but rarely made it all the way into the penthouse… Kerry hadn’t been aware just how often he did it though, seeing it happen again and again now on loop. He assumed that during some occasions neither he nor V were home to let him in. Kerry in fact remembered only one time Lee had been here in the early days, and how pissed he’d gotten at him for showing up unannounced over something completely trivial. He’d told him to meet up at the studio for these types of convos in the future and he had assumed that was the end of the story of unannounced visits.

Apparently not. Because right now he saw Lee coming back day after day… then not anymore for a few weeks. Then again on two days in a row at the end of August, the 24th and 25th. Kerry was not there to invite him in for any of those visits either…

He paused the preview at Lee just getting out of the penthouse and into the elevator on August 25th. His heart was racing faster than the footage had been, raking his brains… Had V let him in? He doubted that…

He pulled up his holo screen again to read back through the endless wall of text messages Lee had sent him since. Finally, the 25th, on which there had been a little bit of back and forth between them actually, and Kerry’s tension dropped slightly.

“Lee, I’m fucking busy tonight. Shard with demos is still at my new place. If you really need it that desperately, you gotta go get it yourself,” had been Kerry’s final message that night, and it fit the timeframe Lee was at the penthouse.

 So, he’d let him in remotely to pick up that shard, just how he did the other day to feed the cat. Temporary access token, no big deal, right…

Kerry scrolled further back through his messages, but there was nothing in his texts, nor his e-mails, nor his appointments that would explain Lee’s visit on the day before though. Only a reminder to himself about “date night with V <;3”, the reason for his pre-occupation on the 25th and neither of them being at the penthouse.

He dismissed his schedule and stared back at the screen. At Lee with his ridiculous pompadour, bleach-blond still at the time, in his over-priced suit, stumbling into the elevator, frozen in time. Going by the timestamps, he’d been in the penthouse for 15 minutes to pick up the shard which seemed… long for a task that simple. Unless it wasn’t the only thing he’d done there while Kerry and V were out on a fancy date.

No, not him though. The thought alone was fucking insane. That man’s spine was a slinky toy. He almost shat his pants whenever he had to call or speak to Kerry. If all that was an act and he was secretly one of Blue-Eyes’ agents, he deserved a fucking Oscar. Kerry shook his head at his own paranoia, took a few moments to rationalize, think it through. Lee was notorious for his bad timing and inability to just leave him the fuck alone. There were a million possible explanations that made more sense than any deeper, darker purpose behind these numerous, persistent visits and incompetence of fulfilling easy tasks in a timely manner…

He scrolled back through the footage to the several days in a row Lee was there at the start of August, shortly after they moved in. Kerry had his messages to him from that timeframe at the ready.

The one time he actually remembered Lee coming to the penthouse to talk was a Sunday. He didn’t even have a proper reason, apart from “getting to know each other a bit better” and discussing future plans and whatnot. Nothing they couldn’t have done over the holo. Hence why Kerry had been so pissed off, apart from Lee invading his living room unannounced. V hadn’t been there, thankfully.

The day after this incident Lee was on the footage again… No messages in Kerry’s inbox, but a calendar appointment for booking a recording booth. Kerry wasn’t home, and going by the footage, Lee didn’t get into the house either. He lingered in front of the intercom by the entrance a long while though, and Kerry noticed that he was talking – to V maybe, home that day, but telling him that Kerry was at the studio? Lee left the entrance area of the building with reluctance. Then he came back the next day, and again, Kerry couldn’t make a connection to his visit with any of the entries in his schedule or his messages. And then, August 11th…

“Lee… got a problem, forgot to fill the cat feeder this morning. I’ll be at the studio for a while still. Sending you a temporary access token. Cat food in the shelf next to the fridge.”

“You can never fully rule out human error…” shot through Kerry’s mind again. But yes, of course he’d give him access to their house, repeatedly, for stupid little tasks like that. Why wouldn’t he? Lee was a fucking pathetic little loser. He could never harm them in any way apart from maybe, psychological damage, right?

Kerry continued to stare at the screen, the timestamps. Lee arrived on the 11th and then spent almost 45 minutes feeding the cat. Kerry jumped forward to near the end of the collection of recordings, to a couple of days ago. The day he’d been at the med center and instructed Lee to feed the cat as well. Lee arrived at the penthouse quickly and sent his photo of Nibbles eating 5 minutes later. He was out the front door again after just over ten minutes. What had he done for the more than 30 extra minutes during the first “feed the cat” visit? Even his incompetence wasn’t great enough to need that long to locate the cat food and put it in the feeder.

Kerry’s ears were ringing as he watched himself in front of the computer from above. He hadn’t had such an intense out-of-body experience in a while. Trying to come up with a more logical explanation than “he probably searched for and swapped the pills during that time”, he was unable to even lift a finger. The thought ate itself into his brain like acid.

“Lee swapped the pills…” he wasn’t even sure if he said it out loud, so insane the mere idea. For money, for power, for chrome? What could a Mr. Blue-Eyes offer a small light like Lee… Well, everything he wanted, probably, and more. And Lee was dumb enough to believe him, too, if even V could be lured in by someone like that with promises big and times desperate enough.

 When Kerry arrived back in his own body eventually, his paralysis was slowly but surely replaced by rage.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill that bastard…” he muttered to himself, got up from the chair, and instead of drinking more, maybe having a smoke, he went to grab his clothes from the wardrobe and then his gun from the armory. V was still fast asleep and none the wiser by the time the Aerondight left the garage.

Of course, Kerry wouldn’t kill Lee. Not really. Probably. But at the very least he wanted to scare the shit out of him and make him talk. Even if he had nothing to do with all of this in the way Kerry assumed, something was up with him, and Kerry needed to give him a piece of his mind before he imploded for good.

He arrived in front of the MSM recording studio in Charter Hill much faster than anticipated… so much so that his impromptu plan to get Lee to talk was still somewhat fuzzy around the edges. He was in the mood to storm in, guns blazing, but there was no guarantee Lee was even there. Maybe he should’ve checked that before coming here. Kerry cursed between his teeth, slightly clammy hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he parked straight across from the building’s main entrance. Reluctantly he decided to simply call his manager, something he usually never did. It rang a handful of times, longer than he would’ve expected.

“Kerry?” asked the shaky voice on the other end of the line.

“Certainly not Lizzy Wizzy,” Kerry replied deadpan, “Where are ya?”

His heart was beating in his throat.

“I’m at the studio! I’ve been waiting to hear from you, been worried that –…”

“I’m outside the front door,” Kerry interrupted him, “Come down, let’s talk.”

He tried not to let his nerves show, and he was thankful for his AudioVox evening out the slight tremor in his words.

“Uh… why don’t you come upstairs to my office?” Lee evaded, “Vicki just dropped by with two new demos you can listen to, I think – …”

“No,” Kerry said sternly, but he was grasping at straws for a reason as to why they had to meet outside that wouldn’t leave Lee even more suspicious.

“Bring the demos with ya, we’ll listen to ‘em on the road,” was the best thing he could bullshit this quickly, “Been too stagnant lately, gotta move around a bit, get the creative juices flowing.”

Empty phrases he’d flung around a million times before, but they usually worked with types like Lee.

“Oh… okay?” Lee said, then there was silence for a couple of seconds, “Okay, I’ll be right there but… I need to be back at the studio at the latest in an hour, got an important appointment...”

Kerry didn’t reply and simply hung up. No promises.

Lee appeared at the building’s main entrance around ten endless minutes later. Maybe he was truly just very bad at fulfilling simple tasks quickly. Kerry’s doubts were loud in his head as his right leg bounced in a shaky rhythm, the gun in his jacket’s pocket, heavy as a brick, bruising his thigh. Lee jogged across the street, black and blue designer coat fluttering in the wind. When he approached the passenger side of the car, he tried to put on a smile, but it was slanted and forced. Kerry opened the door for him.

“Get in,” he ordered, demanded almost, and Lee slightly flinched, fumbling in his pockets and pulling out a handful of shard cases.

“Got everything with me, I thought maybe we could start with the song demos? But just in case I also brought the interview questions I mentioned, and some other things you can decide on for the upcoming promo events.”

“Wow, great. Now get in,” Kerry repeated himself with zero enthusiasm and finally Lee slipped into the seat. The same seat V had fucked Kerry in so gloriously yesterday… and now Lee desecrated the space with his presence.

Kerry closed the door again and sped off before Lee could say another word, headed towards the highway that would lead them out of the city.

Lee kept babbling without pause, played the demos for Kerry and recounted the producers’ notes on what needed to be changed still and what was good, as well as the opinions of the studio bosses Kerry didn’t give a fuck about. But he had to just nod and smile, because in the end they were the ones that determined his success to an essential degree.

About twenty minutes into their drive, with buildings left and right becoming scarce and nothing but the near-deserted Badlands ahead of them, Lee grew quieter. He stared blankly ahead at the CrystalDome screens.

“Uh, Kerry, at the latest at five I need to be back in Charter Hill,” he reminded him.

Kerry did not respond, only half heard him really, his thoughts racing, eyes scanning for a secluded place he could pull into, wary to not be tailed by gangers, or worse, paparazzi. His GPS navigation pointed out a little dead-end road not far ahead, leading to an old racing track. He remembered the place, knew where he was now. He’d been here with V, very early on in their relationship, blowing off steam after something V couldn’t talk about at the time. That was before Blue-Eyes even, Johnny was still around… In hindsight Kerry was sure it had had something to do with that whole Dogtown mess.

His Aerondight squealed and rumbled across the uneven dirt road, he physically couldn’t go much further than a couple of hundred yards away from the highway, so he pulled over to the side of the road behind a large rock and turned off the engine.

“Uh, Kerry, we still have a long drive back ahead of us, and I gotta – ,“ Lee wanted to protest and Kerry slipped his fingers around the grip of his gun. He tried to breathe away his shaking, but it was no use. They were here now, he had to seize the opportunity, because who knew when – or if – Lee would ever get into the same car with him again.

He pulled his gun and pointed it at Lee, who let out a brief but surprisingly controlled scream and immediately raised his hands.

“K-Kerry I mean… Let’s talk this through, I’m sure you don’t wanna –…”

“Shut your fucking second asshole, Lee, ‘cause there’s only shit comin’ from it anyway,” Kerry ordered sternly, somewhat surprised at his own bravado, “Turn off your phone and put it in the glovebox, and then get out. No tricks, no messing around.”

“Okay, okay!” Lee whimpered, pulled out his phone with a feverish expression and squashed it in the glovebox between condoms, unpaid parking tickets, and one or two satchels of colorful pills.

“Get out, hands on your head,” Kerry repeated, “And slowly start walkin’.”

“Okay!” Lee squealed, eyes big and teary, then Kerry unlocked and opened the door for him before getting out of the car himself.

He looked over his shoulder, listened into the distance, but the desert was quiet. No roaring engines, no gunshots, no yelling. Yet.

With his gun he gestured Lee towards the old racing track, and whimpering Lee obeyed and marched on, white syn-leather boots soon turned orange from the dust. They quietly walked on until Kerry felt there was enough of a distance to the road, and they were at least partially obscured by the tall coarse rock formations and sparse vegetation framing the location.

“That’s far enough. Turn around,” he ordered, gun still pointing at Lee, he gripped it tightly with both hands to keep it steady. His manager slowly did as he was told, turning on the spot, slightly hunched over and squinting against the sun and the barrel of the gun. Kerry just stared back at him, tried to make sense of it still… and wondered if he had maybe lost it for good now. In the end, he had only a vague suspicion, no proof, no nothing. The uncertainty began to gnaw on his to-begin-with shaky confidence in all of this.

“Kerry listen,” Lee then pleaded, “I’m sure this has got to be a misunderstanding of some sort! Let’s just… talk, okay? Without the gun, maybe?”

“Shut it,” Kerry ordered, “I’m makin’ the rules here.”

“Okay, okay,” Lee lowered his head slightly, whispering something under his breath Kerry didn’t quite catch. He never took Lee for a religious person, but a little prayer probably couldn’t hurt in a moment like this.

Kerry still didn’t have a plan of action in his mind on how to move forward. In a movie the hero would probably hold a dramatic speech now, confronting the villain about his crimes and all, but truthfully, Kerry wasn’t the hero here. Holding a whimpering mess like Lee at gunpoint at least had nothing heroic about it. So, he decided to just cut straight to the point.

“Did you swap V’s pills?” he asked, voice not nearly as firm as the grip around his gun. He didn’t even have his finger on the trigger, but the visual alone was intimidating enough, he hoped.

He expected confusion, more bargaining, or just downright denial from Lee. Not for his eyes to grow wide, the remaining color to fade from his face. And for once in his life, Lee was dead silent, stared at Kerry open-mouthed. He’d hit the nail on the head.

“You fuckin’ asshole!” Kerry hissed and took a step towards Lee, pointing his gun straight between the fucker’s eyes, near-blinded by anger at Lee’s reaction. Lee screamed and flinched back, stumbling almost. Now the bargaining began.

“Please, please, I had no choice, they threatened to ruin me!”

“Well, tough shit, guess I’ll do it for ‘em now!” Kerry barked, his chest tight and face hot, and Lee kept screaming, pleading.

“No, no, no! Please!”

“You fuckin’ son of a bitch! To save your own sorry ass you, you – …”

Suddenly Lee’s persistent fear of Kerry and V made even more sense. If he’d been behind this from the start, he’d probably been scared they’d figure it out somehow, sooner or later. Every time they were alone together the bastard was a shaking mess not because he was so bad at his job, but scared for his life. Well, a little bit of both maybe.

“Who told you to do this?” Kerry then asked, “And you better spit it out quickly and as detailed as possible, or I’ll leave your sorry ass to rot out here.”

Lee whimpered and now sank to his knees, hands still on his head, facing the ground and actually sobbing.

“I don’t know them, I swear!” he sputtered, “Never saw their faces, never spoke to anyone in person. It all went over the holo. Directed me to pick up spots and gave me a certain timeframe to do… to do the swap. And if I hadn’t, they’d’ve ruined my life. Oh god… they’re not gonna just ruin my life, they’re really gonna kill me now that you know!”

He tumbled over forward, face-first into the sand and his sobbing intensified. Kerry couldn’t help but feel sorry for him now, a pathetic little loser in way over his head. And his story sadly sounded plausible with the little Kerry and V knew about Blue-Eyes and his associates.

“Fucking hell…” Kerry muttered and lowered his gun, then he closed the remaining distance between himself and Lee. He bent down and firmly grasped him by the back of his collar to pull him back up. Lee neither resisted nor made the feat easy for Kerry.

“Get it together, man,” Kerry hissed through gritted teeth and Lee fell backwards on his ass and just sat in the sand now, a picture of misery. His face and hair were encrusted with dirt, wet streaks running down his cheeks, his hands rested in his lap in resignation.

Kerry knelt down on one knee in front of him, gun still at the ready just in case, and tried to catch Lee’s gaze.

“Hope they at least fuckin’ paid you well,” Kerry said, trying his best to remain calm, scared that Lee would actually pass out if he intimidated him even more. Lee shook his head and Kerry frowned.

“They blackmailed me,” he explained sniffling, “I don’t know how but… They have so much information on me that I was sure no one knew about. How I never went to a prestigious school, the shit my parents did, how many of my credentials are… polished at best, how I… I never would’ve made it this far up at MSM if I hadn’t… improved my background here and there. I’m gonna lose everything if that information reaches the wrong kinda people...”

Kerry sighed deeply.

“Why am I not surprised,” he muttered, but knowing that Lee acted for purely selfish reasons made this somehow so much worse than if he’d just done it for a huge chunk of money. Not that it surprised him though, that was Night City in a nutshell. He got up again and started pacing in front of Lee.

“Lemme guess, you also didn’t know what you were even swapping there, right?” he asked, anger creeping back in, “Cause, surprise, you didn’t exchange some ibuprofen with sugar pills!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a few deep breaths. They still didn’t even know exactly what these pills had been doing to V, but whatever it was, if they came from Mr. B, it couldn’t be good. Some kind of preparation to put V in that artificial body at best, mind control that was killing him even faster than his own body at worst. Everything in-between and beyond seemed possible and plausible, too.

“They said it was none of my concern and the less I knew, the better,” Lee admitted quietly, and Kerry couldn’t help but laugh out loud in frustration.

“You… pathetic shitstain!” he now yelled, so close to losing his temper again, “You’re the worst kind of scumbag, aren’t you? Messin’ with someone else’s life and health without asking any questions, just to save your own sorry ass. Believe me, you fit in just fuckin’ right with MSM and that whole fucking’ shitshow of a corporation. Such a brave obedient little corpo soldier, aren’t ya? Fuck!”

He kicked a small rock into the distance, swirling up orange dust, and its impact against one of the larger rock formations echoed across the desert. The sun was beginning to set over the city far behind them, and Kerry paced back and forth, back and forth, failing to find a solution. Lee held his head low and said nothing either, too shaken and guilty still, probably packing his bags in his mind already. Or shoveling his grave.

V would know what to do now, or at least be able to improvise something, but Kerry was at a loss. He eventually stopped in his tracks, still clutching his gun tightly, but despite his seething anger at Lee he still had no intentions of killing him. The guy had killed himself long ago already by weaseling his way into MSM through crooked schemes. Blue-Eyes was only serving him the bill for it now.

As if he could sense Kerry staring at him, Lee looked up and their eyes met.

“What now?” he asked shakily.

“Dunno, whaddaya suggest?” Kerry shrugged, “Wanna have me put ya outta your misery right away?”

“No no no!” Lee stammered and raised his hands again, hunching over in fear, “Please I… I know I fucked up, big time!”

“That’s the understatement of the century…”

After a moment of hesitation Lee looked back up at him again, carefully.

“I… if there is anything I can do to make up for this…”

Kerry couldn’t help himself but laugh.

“Well now I’m curious what in the fuck you’re gonna offer.”

“I… dunno…” Lee’s brief moment of confidence was blown out like a candle in a storm.

Kerry didn’t know either because, as usual, Lee was useless. Or at the very least he didn’t see a solution that could actually help them either. He needed to tell V about this. As soon as possible.

“Get back in the car,” Kerry then ordered, waving with his gun, “Takin’ ya to your stupid appointment.”

Lee’s eyes grew wider.

“What? Am I… I’m just supposed to continue as normal?”

Kerry frowned.

“What did you expect, that I’m gonna help you escape into a cozy exile somewhere nice and sunny while we clean up your mess and deal with the consequences?”

Lee just stared in response, but Kerry wouldn’t have let him answer anyway.

“You stay put and behave exactly how you always do, play the manager. And you sure as hell will not tell anyone anything about what we just talked about,” he ordered, “If your creep friends call you and ask you to run another errand, you will do exactly that, and don’t let show in any way that would suggest V and I caught on.”

“I… what?” Lee stammered.

“I’m not done yet,” Kerry interrupted him sternly, “Not done with you, either. You will make up for this shit you caused. And I promise you, if I get as much as a whiff of you tryin’ to rat us out or bail or whatnot… V knows people that will track you down to the dark side of the moon to blow your lights out, if necessary.”

The last one was a bluff, although he was sure, with some persuasive words and favors exchanged here and there, even that would be possible, should the need arise.

“Okay, okay!” Lee whimpered, “Understood. I… This meeting never happened?”

“Damn straight. Now back into the car, asshole.”

Kerry was elsewhere with his thoughts for the entirety of the ride back into the city. It wasn’t much, but if Lee managed to keep his mouth shut and not draw Blue-Eyes’ attention, they now actually were a step ahead. Kerry just didn’t know how to use this tiny edge yet, if they could use it at all… and all of course under the assumption that Blue-Eyes wasn’t listening in or watching them 24/7 through some fucked up means already anyway.

“Don’t forget your phone,” Kerry said when he stopped in front of the studio to let Lee get out. They were back early enough so he still had some time to clean himself up, get himself back together before his appointment.

“Yeah, right, thank you,” Lee stammered and stumbled out of the car and slowly started walking towards the building without further words.

The passenger door slid shut and the warm interior lights of the Aerondight engulfed him, but still, it was far from enough to soothe his nerves. Kerry rested his forehead on the steering wheel and let out a deep breath. Something in his guts told him that the studio would call him tomorrow morning to inform him of Lee’s mysterious disappearance or death, and that they already had the next replaceable guy lined up to take over…

“Fuck…” he muttered, smacked the steering wheel, and unlocked his own door. He jumped onto the street, a car passing by honking at him, but he ignored it. He turned to the main entrance of the studio building where Lee was just about to walk through the door.

“Lee!” he called, and Lee flinched and turned around with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights.

“Get back here,” Kerry waved, and hesitantly his manager returned to the side of the car.

“Yes?” he asked shakily, clutching his phone still. Sand was still dripping from his hair and the dirt on his face had dried.

“Get back in,” Kerry decided, and Lee gulped audibly, “Don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you alone right now. These guys that made you do this stuff…”

He didn’t have to say anything else, Lee nodded in strong agreement.

Edge or not, it was so small, so insignificant almost… And no matter how much he hated Lee’s guts sometimes, if Blue-Eyes snuffed him in his sleep tonight… Lee could know more than he let on, maybe even subconsciously. Him already being involved in this whole mess against his will also made him a better ally than any new manager that could be one of Blue-Eyes spies for real this time.

Lee got back in the passenger seat, and Kerry behind the wheel, turning on the engine. How the hell he was gonna break this to V he didn’t know yet. Right as he wanted to drive off, back home, he noted a dark van parked across the street, in good view of them. Kerry hesitated. This was nothing, probably, delivery guys, technicians. Although, no markings, names, or logos on the car.

Maybe this shit was getting to him more than he realized, seeing enemies where there were none. But it had ended with a black van with the Peralezes as well…

He tried to write the thought off as paranoia once again, but just in case, Kerry made extra sure they weren’t being followed before even getting into view of Watson.

*****************

>> Next Chapter

*****************

Notes:

It's been a hot minute, so much has happened since my last update, and I'm so happy I can finally share this ;__; I really had a lot of fun writing Kerry on his own little adventure for this chapter, and I think a few of you will be happy to see Lee back as well XD I've grown quite fond of him and had really been looking forward to this little reveal ever since I first introduced him xD I hope it came as a surprise but not entirely unexpected that he's involved in this mess a bit more deeply than he let on so far.

I hope the next chapter update won't take me as long as this one did, as with black vans showing up unannounced and Mr. B's schemes slowly becoming unravelled I can't wait to continue telling this story! :3

I put a little nod at Dogtown in this chapter, but to anyone who hasn't played Phantom Liberty and wants to continue reading: fret not! Since I started writing this story before the expansion and planned it out without any ties to it, the events of PL will not be majorly referenced here, not beyond what I did in this chapter.

Hope you enjoyed reading this, as always, and are looking forward to how it's all gonna continue (hopefully soon). I would say, we're about to reach the midway point of the story!

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[jencsi]

A broody D.B Russell is a mood-

Straightened hair, it's been this way for months, even before we got here, I wondered why you did it, is it for him? Were you bored of the curls? You look better with them. 

The doctors keep telling me it's not wise to have two people wasting away here. I disagree. 

We messed up Jules, I messed up. 

I don’t think you hate me, I know you hate me.

Julie Finlay, born March 20th, 1968, in Philadelphia Pennsylvania. “In west Philadelphia born and raised...” Okay I’m sorry, I know you hate that song.

Blue eyes, blonde hair, 5’3, a mirror image of Catherine Willows no less. 

Thirty-five bruises, twenty two percent blood loss, a dozen staples, fifteen stitches, two transfusions, one scar across your forehead, the chunk of skull they fixed won’t show, so they say, drains, tubes, breathing on your own is a good thing, they can shock hearts, why not brains back to life?

Monthly charge- $2500. Interest- $800. Paid in full- March 15th 2015. Invoice complete. Receipt sent to Diebenkorn Russell. Card ending in 4879. 

I met Jules in May of 1994, Charlie wasn’t even born yet, can you believe that kiddo? 

Your eyes responded to light today, I could have swore your arm moved when they did it but the nurse didn’t see it. She must think I’m crazy. 

Power of attorney file, client confidentiality, password protect, BloodGirl528, crap, no, it’s Agnes, there we go, please advise, December 2014, in the event of a life-threatening injury, please refer all medical decisions to one Diebenkorn Russell and his wife Barbara, Las Vegas Nevada. You knew before I did Jules. 

“Baby if I could, change the world” You are the sunlight in my universe” damn this Clapton guy. 

Las Vegas reached a near record high of 95 today. That high pressure system will remain in place for the rest of the week. Folks, be sure to stay hydrated out there. 

Grandpa, when is Aunt Julie coming back from her trip? I need to tell her a secret.

Invoice complete. Payment received April 15th 2015. Card ending in 4879. 

A fever, you spiked a fever today, low grade, 100.1. April 20th 2015. Could be nothing, could be something. 

They had a funeral for Dan up in Seattle. I felt bad because none of us could be there for him but Kerri’s still healing, you’re here, I’m here…

One of the nurses had a birthday, they got pizza for her, I figured if you could smell it from down the hall, maybe you would wake up. 

She wouldn’t want to stay like this forever. How do you know what she wants? Me? What about you? What makes you so sure? Do you think you know her better than you know me? 

We are gathered here today, no that sounds like a wedding speech, damn, none of us want to gather for this….

Stop. 

D.B, you have a phone call, it's Ely State, they want to talk to you about the court date for Winthrop’s trial. “I’m not taking the stand Conrad, and we’re not presenting a single shred of our evidence unless Jules is with us, make the bastard wait in state pen a little while longer.”

“Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones” Proverbs 16:24. 

“I guess I can put two and two together. "Sometimes the answer's four," I said, "and sometimes it's twenty-two...” 

Stan’s Floral’s. Sunset Blvd. 702-...... 

The judge isn’t going to extend the waiting period any longer, he says I need to be ready to present my findings by May twentieth with or without a blood spatter expert. 

“I’ll be ready,” she rasps to him jokingly, eyes bright, smile meek but present "four days, that’s plenty of time.”

“Coma notwithstanding,” he bites back, soul on fire, fingers on her wrist, feeling her pulse, needing to be sure she was palpable, alive. 

Boy did he miss this. 

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

If Found, Please Burn- Chapter 2

Chapter 2- In which Jasmine returns to LA, Daya doesn't know how to shut up, and Kerri goes into protective-sister mode.

Read on ao3

Dear Daya,

Lemon invited me to stay with her in Toronto for a few weeks, and I’m going to take her offer. 

She’s the only person who knows how I feel about you (besides Kerri’s mom, but I’m pretty sure Sasha knows everything), and she thinks I just need space from you and everything that reminds me of you. I’ve had this stupid crush on you for over two years and I’ve tried everything else to get over it. I’m tired of being in love with someone that I’m supposed to hate. 

So when I get back to LA, I have to be over you. I don’t have a choice anymore for myself. Even Sasha’s told me that I deserve someone that’s going to treat me better than you do. You’re never going to stop hating me, I realized this a long time ago. 

I know you are never going to see these letters, but this is the last one I’m writing to you. I need to let these stupid letters go, I only started writing them to try to get over you. And it’s only making things worse. So hopefully when I get back, fighting with you won’t hurt as bad. 

Never writing to you again, 

-Jasmine

Daya finished reading the picture of the letter on her phone. It was the only one she had fully read so far from what she’d found in the box. She might as well read the one that had the latest date, and then move back to the others once she had the chance. 

“Are you almost ready to go?” Willow popped her head into Jasmine’s room as Daya played with Aveyah using a laser pointer she found at the bottom of the box. Daya continued to join her friend at Jasmine’s apartment every other day for the last two weeks to help occupy the cats (and not to look for more letters, not that she even found them).

“Yeah, what time are we coming back tomorrow?” Daya stood as she slipped her phone back into her back pocket and tossed the laser pointer into the box. 

Willow shook her head as they started to turn out the lights and to the front door of the apartment “We’re not coming back. Jasmine’s flying back in tomorrow.”

Daya wondered if it had been three weeks already, as dealing with the letters made time seemingly fly by. “Oh, that sucks. I mean, for playing with the cats.” Daya made a quick save, catching her slip-up as Willow shut the door behind them and locked it.

“I doubt you’ll go, but we’re hanging out at Kerri’s the day after Jasmine comes back,” Willow explained as the two watched down the building’s hallway towards the elevators. “Camden and Angie will be there, and I think Bosco’s coming too if that gives you any incentive.” 

The thought of seeing Jasmine again made Daya feel a mix of unfamiliar emotions towards her nemesis. Apprehensive? Nervous? A little curious? 

“No, I wanna go. Not for Jasmine, but we haven’t all hung out since we were at the beach house.” she pointed out. 

Willow shrugged, seemingly not noticing the pause in Daya’s response. “Cool, just try to keep your bickering to a minimum, please?” 

“No problem, I’ll keep reminding her that I kept her cats entertained for three weeks while she was gone.”

“It’s been quiet in the group chat until Jasmine landed last night.”  Bosco pointed out as she and Daya walked up the stairs to Kerri’s apartment. Daya carried a brown paper bag from the liquor store down the road as Kerri asked them to pick drinks up earlier that day. 

“I don’t think she wanted to pay the international data fees,” Daya responded, switching the bag to her other hand.

“Can you blame her? Dance teachers get paid shit when they work with kids.” 

“Is that why you moved to doing choreography?”  Daya asked as she found the door and knocked loudly.

“That, and I realized working with people’s kids wasn’t worth the pay anyways.” 

They both heard Kerri’s voice from the other side of the door stand out from the music “Could someone get the door?” A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Jasmine on the other side, stepping to the side to let Bosco and Daya inside. 

Jasmine’s usual dirty blonde hair was now a dyed copper color. If Daya hadn’t found the letters a couple of weeks before, she wouldn’t have thought twice about the change. But she knew that a girl dying her hair was a classic post-breakup move, realizing Jasmine must have pulled all the stops to get over her crush.

“Nice new hair, Jas,” Daya said as she placed the bag on the coffee table next to a prepared ice bucket. As soon as she said it, Daya realized that she complimented Jasmine. It wasn’t bickering, so she was off to a good start with her so far.

Jasmine had a look of slight surprise and gently held a piece in her hand, “Oh, thanks, Daya. Lemon got bored and said that she accidentally picked up the wrong box months ago and used it on me.” she explained with more background information than Daya asked for. 

Somehow, Daya didn’t hate hearing Jasmine’s rambling for once.

“Well, it looks good on you,” Bosco added as she helped Daya unload the beers and hard sodas into the bucket. 

“Thanks for bringing the drinks, Willow and I didn’t have a chance to get them earlier,” Kerri said as she walked in with bowls of various snacks to put on the table. Willow followed close behind from where they emerged from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, the edibles we had this morning hit us almost too hard.” Willow laughed as she sat across from where Camden and Anergia were sitting close together on the two-person bean bag chair Keeri dragged out from the bedroom. 

The rest of the group found other places to sit in the living room as they all helped themselves to different snacks and drinks, settling into various side conversations. 

“Did your cats miss you? I’m guessing they were all over you when you got home.” Camden asked Jasmine before taking a sip from her drink. Kerri excused herself into the kitchen, quickly saying that her mom was calling her.

“They were all over me. But I can’t find one of Theo’s favorite toys for some reason.” Jasmine thoughtfully said. 

“Have you checked behind the dresser?” Daya said but realized what was actually in that area in Jasmine’s bedroom and not supposed to know about. 

Luckily Jasmine had a good poker face, “Why the dresser?” she asked Daya, seemingly challenging her recommendation.

Daya had to think of something to say quickly. “Oh, I found another toy back there when I was playing with the cats when I went over with Willow.” 

“Just one toy?” Jasmine asked, crossing her arms. 

“Yeah, just one toy was back there, that's it.” Daya calmly said, looking for any change in Jasmine’s expression. 

Thankfully, Kerri returned to interrupt the awkward tension, “Hey Jas? My mom was wondering if you could babysit this weekend. Both she and Mama are flying to a destination wedding this weekend but they can’t find anyone to watch Delia.” she said as she settled back in her seat. 

“Yeah I can, but they’ll be gone all weekend?” Jasmine asked. 

“They are, I’d help you out but Willow and I are going to that music festival this weekend.” Kerri pointed out and looked at Camden and Angeria. “What about you two?”

Angie shook her head “I have family coming in this weekend, and most of them haven’t met Cam yet.” She gave a sympathetic smile to Jasmine, 

“Otherwise, we would help you if it weren’t for that.” Camden pointed out. 

Jasmine pursed her lips, thinking of other people who might be available to help her. “Maybe I could ask-”

“I can help you.” Daya blurted out before thinking, and everyone in the room looked at her in complete shock. 

Kerri broke the shocked silence amongst the group, pointing between Daya and Jasmine as she spoke.

“You? Want to help Jasmine? With babysitting?” she asked, confusion rising in her voice.

Daya nodded, “Yeah, why not? I’m free this weekend anyways.” 

“I think hell just froze over,” Bosco mumbled as she took a sip of beer. 

Kerri shook off her confused state, “Well, my parents and Delia all like you, so I guess it’s up to Jasmine then.” She looked over at her best friend, who had been silent since Daya offered her help.

“I’ll take the help if you’re not joking about this,” Jasmine said, still slightly surprised. “I guess I’ll text you the address and when to come over this weekend.” Jasmine sounded like she was trying to keep her voice even, but still held back some apprehension. 

After a couple of hours, everyone was winding down from the small get-together. Jasmine left with Camden and Angie since they were her ride home. Daya and Bosco chose to stay behind afterward and help Kerri and Willow clean up. 

As Daya was putting the rest of the empty bottles in the trash and working on taking the bag out of the can, Kerri suddenly approached her, and she was blocking the doorway. Kerri stared her down with a piercing gaze and her arms crossed. 

Kerri continued to quietly stare at her until Daya spoke up “Can I help you?” she asked with slight confusion. 

“What’s with you suddenly acting nice to Jasmine?” she questioned, continuing the stare-down. Kerri kept her voice low so as not to catch the attention of the others in the apartment.

Daya straightened her posture, “What do you mean?” trying to keep her voice calm.

“You didn’t start any fights with her, you offered to babysit with her, and hell, you even complimented her!” Kerri explained. “Why are you acting differently around her tonight?” Kerri tilted her head slightly. 

Daya cleared her throat before answering. “I just thought you guys didn’t want to hear us bicker all night.” 

“Oh really? So you don’t have any other reason to suddenly be nice to her?” 

Daya shook her head, “No, just turning over a new leaf with her. If we want to call each other friends, we might as well at least try to get along.” she explained, and luckily the other woman seemed to accept that answer. 

“I just don’t want to see my sister get hurt. That’s all I’m worried about.” Kerri sighed and turned around, allowing Daya to exit again. 

“Don’t worry, your little sister is going to be in good hands this weekend,” Daya said as she tied the garbage bag shut, and Kerri spun around with her dyed blonde hair flowing behind her.

“I wasn’t talking about Delia, by the way.” 

[timaeusterrored]

(Tw for blood and relic malfunction and a brief mention of weight loss)

Luckily, V was home when it happened. Unluckily, he slammed his nose on the sink when he went down. Luckily, Kerry had already been planning on coming over for a bit.. unluckily, he found V in a pool of his own bloody nose in the bathroom and it scared the fuck out him.

“Easy.. head back- Baby easy.” Kerry was being gentle, knowing that the malfunctions were getting worse. One of his hands cradled the back of V’s head, the other tending to his nose. He had stated he fixed plenty of Johnny’s bloody noses to know what he was doing, and Johnny vouched for his nursing skills. He was still dazed as Kerry worked, Kerry keeping him talking out of fear of him passing out again.

“Johnny says you’re a good nurse..” V slurred a bit, looking up at Kerry with a bloody smile while the rocker cleaned him up. “I think so too. Handsome too.”

Kerry snorted, shaking his head. “Didn’t know you were such a flirt.” V didn’t miss the worry and fear in his eyes when he looked back at him, cleaning the blood up and helping him out of his shirt.

“Don’t gotta worry so much, Ker-“

“Of course I’m gonna fuckin’ worry, V. That’s how this shit works.” V blinked, a bit surprised despite the gentle tone that Kerry used.

“That’s how what works?” Were they dating? They never really talked about it. V wasn’t seeing anyone else, he wasn’t sure if Kerry was. He hadn’t seen evidence of anyone else on Kerry or around the Villa, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening. V tried to shove that thought down, not wanting to think about it.

Kerry sighed, helping him stand. “Let’s get this blood out of your mouth.” He said softly, a warm hand against V’s cold back. God he just wanted to hide here with Kerry until his time came. But that wasn’t fair, he couldn’t ask Kerry to be here when or if it happened. If Johnny took over though, he’d want him to be there..

V swished the blood from his mouth and spit it out, doing it a few times until the water went clear. Kerry led him back to the couch, helping him sit. The bed was too far and V didn’t want to fall down the stairs with Kerry. That’d be embarrassing.

“Yes V, that’s the issue. Falling down the stairs in front of Kerry.” Johnny grumbled, appearing against the window.

“It would be.” V mumbled out loud, causing Kerry to look down at him in confusion.

“What would be?” The rocker asked, walking to get some painkillers and a drink for V, probably water or a soda to wash down the taste of blood and pills.

“Embarrassing to fall down the stairs in front of you.” V mumbled, now embarrassed to admit it out loud, causing Kerry to laugh. V really liked his laugh.

“Why would that be embarrassing?” He asked, putting the pills in V’s hand and the bottle of water. What a gift from the fucking gods. Holy shit he was out of it.

“Because I want you to think I’m cool. If I trip up the stairs it ruins the whole sexy merc bad boy thing I got.” Kerry laughed again, covering his face with his hands.

“Oh really? It was pretty sexy when I came in and you basically headbutted the sink.” Kerry said, settling next to him. He made V drink some water before he could get too comfortable. “And you want me to think you’re cool? Why?” Kerry asked.

“Because, cool people fuck on burning Yachts-“ Kerry laughed again. “And blow up vans and shit. And I thought rockers were supposed to have cool and sexy inputs-“ the word was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and Kerry froze. Oh he fucked up. Kerry was gonna leave-

“Well.. lucky for you, you’ve done those things. So, if that’s what you classify as the sexy merc input then I have amazing news for you.” Kerry said softly, and in V’s fucked up state, he fucking beamed.

He was Kerry Eurodyne’s super cool input.

“You are fucked up, did you take something before I got here?” Kerry took his chin, examining his eyes.

“Yeah.. sleep meditation.” He smiled.

“That’s what you’re fucking problem is. You’re high as shit.”

“And I head butted the sink.” V reminded. “Stay the night?” He whispered. He didn’t wanna be alone, he knew he had Johnny but still. Kerry’s hand was so fucking warm, and he kept V safe from nightmares.

“Yeah, that was the original plan.. let’s get you to bed before you pass out down here.” Kerry kissed his forehead, before helping him up. And due to V’s rapid weight loss, Kerry could pick him up. He didn’t miss how Kerry frowned at that realization as he carried him upstairs to bed.

[random-of-random]

Hold My Hand

Trigger warnings: Character death and mention of surgery and stabbing.

Word Count: 1,965

Author’s Note: This takes place during season 6, the episode where Lucy Knight dies. It’s inspired by the song “Hold My Hand” by Lady Gaga.

They weren’t even out of the parking lot when Robert Romano got a call on his cell phone. A clunky thing, he hated it. Hated it especially when he was about to have a night off with the woman he loved. He hated it even more now that someone was on other line telling him John Carter and Lucy Knight had been attacked by a patient. Both of them had been stabbed, it wasn’t looking good. Weeks, months, even years later he couldn’t remember exactly who had called him. Maybe a secretary, hell maybe Kerry Weaver. His adrenaline was already running high as he pulled back into his parking space.

“You have to come in with me.” He had told Emily Gorman. They had been dating for more than two years. He loved her. He loved her so much that he kept her hidden from the hospital. None of his colleagues needed to know about her. She was his. But this attacker was on the loose, no one knew where he was and Robert was not going to take his chances.

“Okay.” Emily didn’t hesitate. She climbed out of the car and was next to him as fast as she could be. Robert was complicated. On edge a lot, he certainly believed no one was going to fall in love with him. Then there she was. On a rare day off he had visited a museum and she was the curator. He was floored when she agreed to go out with him, even more when she loved him back. For Emily it was as easy as breathing. Yes, Robert had his prickly side, but the moments where he thought no one was looking - the moments he let himself be kind and calm - that was where she fell in love with him.

After work she had taken the L train to meet him as he was finishing at the hospital. She didn’t mind that he never introduced her to coworkers. Part of her suspected that he was worried she would see the infamous “Rocket” Romano personality she had heard of. She wasn’t ignorant of the fact that his co-workers had a certain disdain for him. She heard how he acted on occasion. Most prominently when Lucy Knight had shown up at their house at nearly midnight on Christmas Eve to ask him to perform a surgery only he was qualified for. When he talked back and down to her, the young woman didn’t blink - she called him out. He started to get ready to leave the second he closed their door. Apologizing to Emily with a soft kiss, she just smiled and told him good luck. Getting to see that side of Robert was a Christmas present unto itself.

They climbed into the elevator and up to the surgical floor.

“I have to change.” He said quickly. “There is a lounge or you could wait in my office if you wanted.”

“Robert, go help Lucy and Carter. I’ll be here.” She assured him and he allowed himself a moment where he didn’t care if he was at work as his lips found hers. In need of calming and assurance, which Emily was always willing to give. It would be the talk of the hospital by the next morning.

She had only been in Robert’s office once when she surprised him for lunch. He had hurried her quietly through the hallways and closed the door behind him.

“If I didn’t know any better, Robert, I would think you were ashamed of me.” She had joked.

Immediately his arms were around her. “It’s more I want to keep you to myself. The barbarians in this place don’t need to know my personal business.” He showed her off when they were at galas and the occasional parties. His mom absolutely adored her, but people like Peter Benton didn’t need to know he was kind to anyone. It would ruin his reputation.

She sat at his desk, lazily reading through some medical journal. Well, trying to read through a medical journal when he walked in late. It was clear he was exhausted.

“Hey.” She said standing. “How are Lucy and Carter?”

“Lucy is in post-op. Lizzie and I had to crack her chest. That bastard butchered her. Carter is still in surgery. They had trouble controlling the bleeding, but they were able to save his kidney.” Emily brought her hand to his cheek as he let out a sigh. He didn’t want to go home in case anyone needed him. Not to mention the mountain of paperwork and administrative meetings he was going to need to attend to deal with how a patient got a butcher knife and attacked two of his staff. The couch in his office was looking mighty comfortable and if he could have his arms around Emily as he slept - all the better. He was about to suggest it when his pager went off - 911 to post op.

“I have to go. I’m so-“

“Robert, don’t apologize. I’m here.”

“I love you.” He said quickly before he pecked her lips.

“I love you too.”

“Order some food. You should eat.” He called as he headed out the door. Emily did just that. She ordered his favorite food from his favorite late night spot. Being a surgeon, a highly respected one at that, Robert’s hours were all over the place. Emily had gotten to know what restaurants in Chicago stayed open late.

It wasn’t long until the food arrived and she set it out on his desk, pushing the medical journals to the side. Surgery could take hours, so she settled in slowly eating, but she was surprised when he came back quickly. Robert’s face was pale, his eyes cast toward the ground.

“Robert?” She was immediately in front of him, he didn’t even bother to close the door.

“Lucy threw a clot.” He said quietly. “We tried to get her into CT to remove it, but she threw more.” His voice was monotone, almost like he didn’t believe the words he was saying. “She didn’t make it.”

Emily threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Robert respected Lucy. He couldn’t not respect Lucy. He told Emily that she was smart. Emily loved her gumption when she showed up on Christmas Eve. Now she was gone. Emily pulled back to look at the man she loved. His deep brown eyes looked lost, sad, and angry. “This wasn’t your fault, Robert.”

“I should have been better. I should have-“

“No.” She cut him off quickly. “I know you. I know how you work. You’re an incredible surgeon. Elizabeth, from what you’ve told me, is an incredible surgeon.”

“One of the best.” He said with a small nod.

“Then Lucy had the best.”

“I have to.. I need to go close her up. We had to open her chest again and I… She shouldn’t stay like that.” Emily nodded. “Will you come with me?” She grabbed his hand lightly and let him lead her through the halls of the surgical floor. She could tell there were whispers from nurses, other doctors, that Robert Romano was walking hand in hand with someone. Neither of them cared. Leading her into a room, Lucy was laying on a table. Her chest open and bloody, it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

Putting on a fresh pair of gloves, Robert grabbed some equipment and slowly began sewing her wounds.

“She would have made a hell of a doctor. A hell of a surgeon, really.”

“Coming from you, I know that’s a compliment.”

“Do I not compliment people enough?” He asked.

“Not from work, no.” Emily remarked. She stood next to him as he continued to work. Still wearing a light blue surgical gown over his dark blue scrubs, time seemed to tick by slowly. He was almost finished when a woman walked in. Wearing green scrubs, with a crutch in her right hand and short, deep red hair, her eyes were fixed on Lucy. Based on listening to Robert’s complaints and comments about work, she knew this had to be Kerry Weaver. Emily took a few steps back, letting the doctors have a moment together.

“I had to close her chest.” Robert explained simply. She stood on the opposite side of the table and grabbed a small pair of scissors, cutting the thread as he finished. “Thank you.” She began pulling the sheet over Lucy. “The nurses can do that.”

“I know.” She answered before her eyes fixed on Emily and then again on Robert.

“It doesn’t seem a good time for introductions, but this is Emily Gorman. Emily, this is Dr. Kerry Weaver.”

“Dr. Weaver.” Emily said with a small nod.

“It’s nice to meet you, Emily.” The woman answered back. Kerry didn’t know what to think. At first she wanted to be angry. Robert letting some random person into this room, but then she looked at him. Robert ‘Rocket’ Romano was not one to be rattled. If you had asked her 24 hours earlier, she would almost think Robert incapable of it. Now, he looked almost shell shocked. Kerry has suspected he had been seeing someone. Robert accused the ER of being a gossipy place, but the surgical floor wasn’t innocent of it. After the surgeons gala more than a year earlier there were talks of Robert dancing with a pretty brunette who he held to his side the rest of the night. This must be her, and he clearly needed her by his side now.

“You should go home, Robert.”

Robert shook his head. “There’s going to be meetings and calls.”

“I can handle it.” Kerry assured him. “Anything that needs your attention can wait until your next shift.” He nodded and took off his gloves. His hand finding Emily’s again.

“Have a good night, Kerry.” He said quietly.

“Goodnight, Dr. Weaver.” Emily added as they walked toward the door.

“Goodnight.” Kerry called after them. They returned to his office and Emily packed their food. He was silent as they walked to the parking lot. He didn’t even try to object to Emily driving them home. He was quiet as they unlocked the door and Emily put the food in the fridge. Gretel trotted up to him and he sat on the couch, allowing her to jump up and he softly scratched her neck and ears. When Emily came into the living room he was staring into the TV, which he hadn’t turned on.

“You should go to bed.” He said as she sat down next to him.

“I’m okay.”

“You have work in a few hours.”

“I’ll call out.” She saw his jaw slightly clench.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Yes, I should.”

“Damn it, Emily! Go to bed!” His outburst was even louder in the middle of the night. Emily saw it for what it was. Robert was very good at pushing people away. He perfected it, even. He didn’t like anyone seeing him vulnerable. It was much easier to get angry, to make people leave. Slowly she reached her hand toward his. As soon as their fingers touched he held on for dear life as he couldn’t stop the tears anymore. He leaned into her, his head on her shoulder.

“It’s okay.” She whispered before wrapping her free arm around him and he moved himself closer to her. It was like a dam breaking. His shoulders shook as he sobbed. How dare this happen? How dare Lucy die? It wasn’t fair. It was anything but fair. “I’m here.”

“Emily.” His voice was broken.

“Just hold on to me.” She urged. “Don’t let go.” It didn’t matter if he cried for a minute or for hours. She was there, she would always be there.

[awhalesrider]

What makes Silverv a ship for me

The most interesting thing about this couple is that they don't necessarily think of them as a couple - they feel attraction to each other, but again, none of them really consider the other as a "lover".

I've always unilaterally speculated that, excluding one-night stands, the type of partner Valerie would actually favour is someone a little more gentle, or someone with a relatively weaker aura/energy compared to herself, like Raver, like Takemura  (who she has sent flirty texts to), and Kerry (who is in Johnny's shadow and life confusion) . She feels like someone who cares a lot about autonomy and control and doesn't like to be led around, so she is more used to "loving" and giving a helping hand to the other person. She is gentle and helpful, but in fact she is the one who makes the decisions at the beginning of every relationship.

And even if our self-centred Johnny is not the voice in her head, he will be another force fighting her for the driver's seat. She'd say: what kinda brain-dead gonk would pick a bastard like Johnny for a date? But 419? Could be worth a try. When Panam said that the neurological connection was like booking a double room with only a queen-size bed and a blanket, she was clearly thinking about her current situation with Johnny; and in Pistis Sophia, when she asked him whether he was thinking about sex. Wasn't she thinking about it?

It's even more interesting when you look at it from Johnny's point of view. Unlike V, it seems to me that Johnny doesn't have a high standard for lovers. He is naturally easily attracted to different types of girls. He's happy to have *some* kind of relationship with all kinds of women who are interested in him. Sometimes he is also very comfortable with the adulation of men. But that also means that these rough sexual relationships don't last as long as the friendships he builds with others (and for some reasons the latter is also kinda "toxic"). He almost never understood Alt's career and stubbornly shut himself off from her admonitions; he only knew that Rogue would never say no to him, but he didn't really speak his heart out to her until that movie date in 2077.

But it's real fun when Johnny spends his time with Valerie. On the one hand, Johnny is attracted to her, and from time to time Valerie flirt with him, letting him mumble "we fight like old married couple people", and sometimes even agreeing they are perfect for each other. On the other hand, Relic makes it literlly impossible for their connection to really develop into sexual relationship (I want it for them tho), and they platonically allow two souls and two personalities to reveal themselves to each other, which is instead a more special connection. In Pistis Sophia, Johnny says V is not his type, but these very words help him prove how sincere and pure a commitment those dogtags symbolise. But it would be too narrow-minded to interpret this as "you're not like all the other girls". Valerie is not a lover that Johnny could leave behind. She is more like a comrade in arms that he needed to communicate with, understand and respect at all times; but he couldn't treat her as an ordinary friends either, because spiritual nakedness was much more intimate than a simple physical relationship. No matter how close a partner one has, they always keeps a part of their secret to themselves, while Johnny and V are sharing even that part of themselves with each other.

He would admire her, and she would desire him, yet they are essentially free from the shackles of a physical relationship, removing the inevitable barriers between ordinary friendship and truly building a purely intimate relationship with another person. They are constantly in a dynamic balance of intense debate and mutual compromise, with Johnny constantly asking V to listen to his advice, constantly exporting his views and goals to her, and V sometimes having to give in; but at the same time she is always asserting herself, asserting her own position, and Johnny has to accommodate her stubbornness. In the end no one is able to tip the scales in their favour, but instead they show a certain tendency to give and sacrifice at the same time. This whole process is particularly interesting, and if I were an AI outside the black wall, I would be definetely willing to observe them every day.

If there was a so-called good ending, they would not probably get married or even talk about the whole *relationship* thing. They'll say they're friends, former "roommates", current friends of benefits (define “benefits” as you wish), but everyone knows that what they have is healthier, stronger, more stable and more indestructible than any intimate relationship they've ever had.

[justawhimm]

you’re real

fandom: cyb//erp//unk 2077 summary: becoming a father never felt like his sort of thing. he'd never planned it, initially. so when ke//rry eur//ody//ne unexpectedly ends up pregnant late into samurai's run, he does just about everything to ignore the fact that the baby even exists. needless to say, that doesn't go amazingly for long. this series explores the births of his four children and some moments of his parenting style toward each of them.

chapters: 1/8

content warnings: transmasculine pregnancy, graphic depiction of childbirth mention of drug use, mentions of alcohol use, mention of smoking, mild mistreatment of a pregnant person, initial resentment toward unborn child

notes: So, I found out recently that Kerry has other kids. They're apparently marked as noncanon nowadays, but oh well! I love the idea of Kerry having much more of a clear, full, lived life. Especially given his rockerboy lifestyle, I think that likely involved multiple kids and multiple marriages. We won't get into all of that, because this is kinda just a kink account, but I'll at least get into all of this with Kerry's four kids. :) I started this particular chapter a while ago, but finally finished it for the sake of @monsterexer​‘s Mayternity bingo series. Ayyy finally posting content!

Current Year: Early 2007 Kerry's Age: 19

cross posted on ao3

Crop tops had become his top of choice of late. At this point, who the fuck cared? Kerry stopped denying and hiding shit a while ago. A thing of the past. And he wished people would stop asking about it. It wasn't that big of a fuckin' deal.

Maybe he'd just wanted some damn privacy for once.

But, now every night they were on full display. The little virus growing within his gut was a secret to no one, least of all his bandmates. (Now, anyway.)

Kerry felt prying eyes staring at him again as he rested his hand against the uncomfortable curve. Either Denny or Nance 'cause of their worry, or Henry 'cause of his terror. He was jittery and jumpy with practically every move he made now. Y'know, as if he was just gonna pop and the whole thing would be over in an instant. It was kind of true, he guessed. While not at his due date, he was within the range where it wouldn't have been weird if he dropped now.

Johnny was the only one who didn't have his eyes on him. Kerry was pretty sure the whole thing freaked him out a little. Yeah, yeah. Join the fuckin' club, choom. Kerry knew it was probably a good mix of things. Not telling him 'til the screamsheets knew, for one. That was a big one, given that they fucking lived together. He was also pretty convinced Johnny had touched his stomach at one point while he slept and the trojan gave him a little spook. He definitely didn't like making eye contact with it anymore, anyway. Whatever the reason, Johnny ignored the situation as much as he could. And when he did acknowledge it, he was just being an ass about it. God, fuckin' get over it already. Not like it was goin' anywhere at this point.

Looking up, Kerry finally saw that stoic look of concern in Nancy's eyes.

"Keep feelin' yourself up," she gave a half-assed attempt at keeping the mood light, crouching down beside Kerry and offering him a slight smile. Kerry appreciated it anyway, "How're you getting by tonight?"

Removing his hand from his rounded gut, Kerry shrugged listlessly. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed until then that the green room was empty, save for them. How long had it been like that? He rested his back against the sofa he'd been sitting on. This fuckin' thing was so low. His stomach had dropped at least a couple weeks ago, and it'd only been getting worse since then. He had no choice but to keep his legs slightly spread to accommodate the trojan inside.

"Just as low as last night. Back aches somethin' fierce, but that's nothin' new."

"Sure you'll get through the gig?"

"If I could manage it last night, I can manage it tonight. I thought they were seriously gonna bust out last night." A false alarm happened not long before the show was supposed to end. False contractions, probably brought on by the stress he'd been putting his body under to keep performing while he was like this. They had three more gigs to get through and then he could purge this virus from his system.

"And you're feeling better than you did then?" Nancy asked, looking for proper verbal confirmation that he was okay to do this, and not just some vague notion.

"Yeah. Definitely." Absolutely fucking not. Kerry felt sick to his stomach, but he'd performed under worse conditions. Besides, he thought he was looking pretty damn good today. Why deprive their fans from seeing him? Especially if he was just gonna get bitched at for bailing on the gig when he wasn't even in labor. God, this whole thing was such a pain in his ass…

"Great!" Nancy patted his back for emphasis. "We're on in 30," she informed him.

"Where're the others?"

"Smoking outside."

Oh for fuck sakes… Guess it was important, but it was still annoying as hell. Kerry had been itching for a cigarette for ages, and them smoking in the same room as him had been driving him mad with the cravings. Needless to say, that'd had to stop.

"Help me up, would ya?" He requested, grumbling to himself. This was getting so damn old… She took hold of his arm, while his free hand would support his back. Using his legs and her strength, he'd get to his feet and immediately feel the weight of what was growing as it was shifting into his pelvis. If he was seriously gonna have to deal with this shit for 3 more weeks, he was gonna lose his mind.

With a small, weak smile and a nod of thanks, Kerry stepped (Yes, stepped! The next person he'd hear telling him he was "waddling" was getting a punch in the family jewels.) toward the mirror. Had to gussy himself up. Always had to do it himself, even when it led to his back aching all the worse because he preferred to do his makeup while standing instead of sitting.

Unpacking his small makeup pouch, he'd pull out his eyeliner, eyeshadow palette, and brushes. Brown eyes connected with the large curve of his stomach, cringing slightly when he'd witness and feel the slight movement from beneath stretched skin. Definitely running out of room… Then again, he'd been convinced of that for weeks now, that he couldn't possibly get any bigger. And yet here he was.

While his expression did relax as he started making himself up, his neutral expression of concentration contorted into a small scowl as he felt another sharp pain travel through the small of his back. His hand wouldn't tremble though. He kept applying, and just ignored it. The fuck was anyone gonna do, after all? Not like he could pop something for it. He'd already gotten the riot act about that, and really? He should be praised. Dropping smoking, drinking, and pills all at once? He should get a fucking award for that. All for this virus. …Fuck, they were getting low.

Kerry's gaze averted from himself in the mirror and back toward the door when the rest of his bandmates returned, reeking of smoke. The smell was a relief, honestly. It gave him a bit of something, at least. Looking in the mirror again, he'd finish off his eyeshadow and start on the eyeliner. Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, he'd keep much of his focus on what he was doing.

"Not gonna have a repeat of last night, right?" Henry was the first to speak up, striding over to his side.

"Don't got a clue what you're talkin' about," Kerry responded with a distinctly facetious tone, not breaking eye contact with the mirror or closing his mouth as he ran the thin brush tip over his waterline.

"Good. Drink your water like a–"

Kerry paused to let out a pained groan and placed a hand on his stomach, causing Henry to instantaneously take a giant step back with a jolt. His eyes were wide with fright. The others had similar reactions. Nancy's first instinct was to join him at his side instead, while Denny's eyes went wide with surprise and a slight bit of panic. Johnny's expression was almost unreadable with his aviators covering his eyes, the only thing noticeable was his slightly agape mouth. Laughter bubbled out of Kerry no more than a moment later, using the mirror to look around at everyone and their faces.

"Jumpy bunch, aren't ya? Just scarin' 'im, I'm fine," he assured. A quiet collective sigh of relief came over all of them, though Nancy would be the one to send him an unimpressed stare through the mirror.

"Not funny, Ker'."

"Sorry Mother Nance. Promise not t'do it again," Kerry half-heartedly assured as he would go back to lining his eyes.

Things went back to normal. Their usual arguing, primping, and drinking. There were at least a couple of more sharp pains from his back, making the weight in his pelvis even more distracting. It didn't feel like it was going anywhere to him, though. It just felt like the pain in his back made the weight in his pelvis feel worse than it really was. It made sense to him, so nothing to get worked up about. With his makeup done, Kerry gave himself a chance to sit down in front of the mirror to rest his legs.

"5 minutes!" Someone from outside of their room announced. Denny and Henry began to stand, since they were ready and didn't exactly make the same cocky entrances as their two frontmen. Nancy would follow not long after, leaving Johnny and Kerry to compose themselves enough to get up and get on stage.

Kerry was almost certain Johnny was high on something. What, he wasn't sure. They didn't use in front of him anymore, or as much as Nancy could control that.

"You look miserable," Johnny would fill the silence, picking himself up and finally approaching the mirror to toss his hair around a bit.

"Happens when you can barely sleep."

"Yeah, heard you keep gettin' up last night."

"Thing was punching my bladder like a speed bag. Nearly pissed myself twice."

"So that was what that was," Johnny grinned slightly, looking over toward him, "Had no idea what ta think when I heard you running around sayin' "Oh fuck, oh fuck" over and over. Thought I'd have to call Nance."

"Nope. Just nearly made a disgusting mess." Another ache in his back. God, this was such a fuckin' pain. He grit his teeth and would breathe through his nose, putting his hand to his back once again. This show was definitely gonna be rough. "...Help me up, would ya?" Kerry watched him contemplate it.

"Yeah. Alright. Better help you up now so you can make it to the stage before we head back to the hotel tonight." Johnny stood there patiently as Kerry carefully turned in his seat, then offered his metal arm out to him. Kerry rolled his eyes at him all the while.

"Har-fuckin'-har. Even funnier the 50th time you've said it. Shut the fuck up, Johnny." Begrudgingly, he'd take hold of Johnny's arm. Abruptly, he was yanked up to his feet, causing Kerry to wince with the pain that came with it. Arm almost pulled outta socket, his stomach lurching forward… Definitely hadn't been pleasant.

"Ouch. Should a future daddy really be talking like that?"

"Not in the mood right now, man. Let's just fuckin' go." The pain evened out and he could let out a breath, absently stroking the curve of his belly. Glancing back up at him, he was relieved when Johnny let go of him without a word. Nothing else snarky to say, he guessed. Asshole.

He would follow Johnny out of the green room, intent on keeping up his pace so he wouldn't have anything else to bitch about.

It all started off great. Stepping onto the stage, everything was pushed to the back of his mind. None of it mattered. The bickering, the rumors, the worries– fuck it all. None of it held any weight on his mind. He was just there to play, to sing. They weren't going to have a repeat of last night. His waves and big smile told the crowd that. And if he'd been able to see them past the blinding lights, then clearly he would've seen that they knew it was going to be different.

His axe had been passed off to him on his way onto the stage. The strap seemed like it'd have to get looser and looser with each performance. Even then, he was still able to play. He wouldn't miss a note, even as that strange, sharp pain struck him again halfway through "Five Rings." It almost felt like the pain itself was making the trojan press down, further into his– nah. Didn't matter. Don't fuck up a single note, a single cue. He sang, played through it all.

With the end of the second song, he almost felt relief. A moment to breathe, and Johnny was taking the time to address the crowd. Good… good. He kept his hands on his axe to keep them away from his stomach, other than the occasional hand being brought up to wipe sweat from his brow. He was already feeling the heat of the stage lights. He could usually handle it well. It wasn't like poor Nance, after all. Head to toe in black, just absorbing all of that heat. She was a fuckin' trooper. No wonder why she went through so much water while they played.

"...and let's all welcome back Kerry Eurodyne after last night's dramatic performance!"

Forced out of his thoughts, Kerry immediately gritted his teeth and sent Johnny a glare. Oh, this fucking dickwad. It took genuine effort to get himself to speak through the pain. No one would ever be able to say he wasn't a damn good performer after all of this shit.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." He spoke into the mic with a level of feigned amusement to his voice. "Kid thought it'd be a hilarious prank ta make me think they were comin', so…" Kerry shrugged his shoulders, unable to really think past that. The pain was too distracting. Johnny started speaking again, but Kerry wasn't absorbing any of it. Shit, it was really turning into something wasn't it? This wasn't like last night. It felt worse. But fuck that. He wasn't gonna get laughed at. Kerry wasn't gonna turn into another fucking spectacle. He wanted eyes on him, but not for this.

It was fine. Just make it through a couple of hours and then he could promptly get bitched out by their manager again.

It would only get worse from there, but playing was so much easier than speaking tonight. Singing backup was fine so long as the pain wasn't peaking. His mind felt like mush in the moments following the contractions ending, though. It was becoming more and more difficult with time to pretend that he was okay. For now, though, he thought he was managing it… fine.

Fuck, what next? "Seven Virtues?" "Blistering Love?" He looked to Johnny for that cue for the start of the next song. Hearing the first note gave him everything he needed to know. All right. The money maker. "Blistering Love" was loud, full of power, one of their most popular singles for a reason. He'd also been playing it since he was 15, so it was way too easy to just shut his brain off and play it without a thought in his head. …Ah, fuck, speaking of head.

There was no way the trojan's head could be any fucking lower. It felt like it was practically right between his legs, like if he spread them any wider (impossible, because of the leather pants he wore) that it would just fall straight out of him. Thankfully, he knew far better than that. It just wasn't gonna happen.

What would happen, however, was a want to push.

But that wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

His facade would finally break, and Kerry's eyes would momentarily widen with terror. He knew some fans must've seen him, but no one in the band did, nor did anyone off to the side. No, this wasn't happening. There was no fucking way, right? His water hadn't even broken. It couldn't be… If his water hadn't broken yet, then it wasn't coming yet.

Yeah. Yeah!

He was okay. Calm the fuck down, Eurodyne and plaaaaay–ooooo, fuck, it hurt! Oh, fuck, yeah that– that was getting to the unbearable levels of hurting now. He'd been so locked in his own head that he hadn't felt the full pain surging through his back and gut through the last few songs. How the hell had it gotten so out of hand so damn quickly?! This was supposed to take for fucking ever. He was supposed to be in some pristine hospital paid for the suits, complaining to Nancy when the thing just wouldn't come out of him. This was so completely and entirely not that.

Oh god, what the fuck was he supposed to– low, low, low, low!

Kerry gave a short push to test the waters, squatting just slightly where he was standing. It looked more like he was trying to give his legs a chance to bend after having his knees locked for too long, especially as he was trying his hardest to avoid making a face with the effort. And god he hated that it felt good. Well, maybe not good. "Right" felt a bit more appropriate. Oh, this was fucking bad. Shit, how many songs did they have left? Too many. Way too fucking many.

He couldn't do this. No, oh fuck no. This "trojan" was about to make its grand entrance into Troy soon if he wasn't careful. He didn't have a clue how none of the others hadn't noticed by now. Had he just been flawless with everything he'd played so far? He'd get a big head about that later, but right now he was far more occupied by another big head. If he was doing amazingly well for apparently how far into labor he was in, he was pretty damn sure that he was about to ruin that streak of brilliance.

. . . Okay. Contraction passed.

He could do this. He could do this! With the dulling of the pain, his confidence resurged. Kerry straightened himself up and phoned in a big grin right on cue. This song was ending, and Johnny was queuing up for the next. Next should've been "No Man Anymore," from what he could remember. With the hand signal Johnny gave, though, and the abrupt beginning, this was definitely not that. Why the fuck were the playing "Archangel?" That wasn't supposed to be played 'til the last tour date! What the fuck was he doing? Looking to Denny from where he stood, she looked just as confused as him, but kept up her drumming like a pro.

So, what more could he do but to act on cue? With the end of the first set of lyrics, Kerry played the riff. His favorite from any of their songs thus far. All eyes were on him now, and he couldn't fuck this up. He played it up as best as he could in his condition, arching his back and gyrating slightly to the beat of Henry's bass. An instant regret as the pressure was really getting to the point of intolerable, even between contractions. This thing was on its way out. Impatient little asshole.

The next contraction came before the song could end, and oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck he had to push. He had to. There was no denying it. This thing wanted out whether he liked it or not. His grin had long since gone, having dissolved into to a look that he hoped could be read as passionate concentration, or something akin to that. With Johnny's loud vocals and guitar taking center stage, he'd squat down slightly like before. Kerry backed off from the mic, but would still try to keep himself from grunting with the aggressive shove of a push he gave. C'mon, kid… fuckin' work with me here!

Then came a burn and that wide eyed look returned, this time bringing along an aggressive feeling like he was going to be sick. Oh, no. No-no-no-no-no-no! This wasn't happening! He pushed again, this time involuntarily. He was squatting more. Someone had to have noticed by now right? Please. Please– someone help h–

It felt like something exploded inside of him, and all at once everything was disgustingly wet. It wasn't like in the movies, where a wet spot just appeared and a puddle was clearly beneath him. Oh, no. These leather pants made it feel so much more disgusting. Soaking the inside and dripping down through each pant leg. His socks, his shoes: they weren't drenched immediately. It felt way too slow, feeling it as it seeped down further. Two small individual puddles pooled beneath him, as well, soon meeting each other to create one larger one. Kerry wouldn't even notice that "Archangel" had ended until he heard some of the gasps of the closest fans that noticed what happened.

He was suddenly all too aware of the sets of eyes that were on him, even without being able to see them all. Fuck, this was gonna be all over the screamsheets. No one was ever gonna let him live this down. Letting go of his guitar, he'd instead reach out to grip at the mic stand, as though it might be able to help him stay on his feet. Peering up slightly, he'd first be able to see that infuriatingly unreadable expression from Johnny. Not even an agape mouth this go around. With his eyes covered by those stupid fucking aviators, he looked downright unimpressed with what was happening. He was gonna kick this motherfucker's ass, whether he was pushing a human being out of him or not!

"C'mon Ker'," Denny's familiar, gentle voice was suddenly in his ear. It was similar to last night, where she, too, had been the closest to him and first to join his side. Except this time, he was quick to shake his head and turn the microphone away from his face. No, oh god no, he was not going to be making the entire venue aware of this!

"Can't move," he whimpered, "it's coming. 'M not fuckin' around, Den, it's comin'." With a hand on Denny now, a far more stable support, he'd squat down further and bear down once again. Denny's dark brown eyes would widen with her own panic, turning back toward Nancy. She'd been on her way over as well, with Henry practically frozen in terror back at his spot on the stage. Denny gestured for Nancy to hurry the fuck up, since she absolutely knew nothing about any of this shit.

Quickening her pace across the stage, Nancy trotted over and got to Kerry's other side. She worriedly took hold of his arm, looking him over.

"C'mon, Ker'," Nancy echoed, then gently began to urge him toward offstage.

"He said–"

"Nance, it's comin' outta me! Like, it's–" Before any further words could come out of his mouth, Kerry was frantically pushing again. Teeth grit and a groan of effort escaping him, her own bright red eye would widen with the realization. Oh, for fuck sakes! "–just get my pants off. It's got nowhere t' gooooooo with these things!" The burn was getting worse. Oh god, it was actually coming out. It was for real sticking out of him, what the fuck was he supposed to do?!

"I am not taking off your pants in front of–"

"Well I can't fucking move Nancy!"

"Johnny!" Nancy looked back toward where Johnny was still standing there, having made no move at all to do a damn thing. But, fuck. If Nance was calling him over, he knew he was gonna get a whole fucking earful of bitching if he didn't come over. And so Johnny begrudgingly sauntered over to approach Kerry at the front, moving the mic stand off to the side completely.

Kerry still couldn't see this fucker's eyes. Not like he gave a damn in that moment, not when he was once again bracing himself on his bandmates and pushing hard to try to get this thing out of him. Its head had almost nowhere to go. With him in a thong and tight ass pants, it was bound to hit the limit soon. And soon it was, as he felt resistance with the end of that push.

"Johnny, pull him off the stage. We're not doing this here."

"No! Nance, please!" Kerry was panicking, begging. "Its head is almost out, I swear t'fuckin' god. I need to–" Johnny pushed Nancy out of the way slightly, and suddenly Johnny's hands were on him. Arms hooking underneath his own, Johnny would start to drag Kerry off the stage. That was where the production staff started to scramble, trying to either get out of the way or figure out what they were going to do. They were all completely useless to Kerry.

Stopping far offstage, Johnny would stand him up again before starting to pull his guitar up from around him. It was handed off to a stagehand, while Denny and Nancy both were crowding him again. Henry had followed the rest of his bandmates offstage, but was staying a good distance away. He still wanted absolutely nothing to do with that. Behind everything else, Kerry could still hear the chattering of the concert attendees. None of that mattered, though. Absolutely none of it. What really did was just getting this kid out of him.

Standing up normally again, Kerry would begin his struggle in getting his pants down. They were wet, disgusting, and restrictive. Nancy was finally helping, taking charge of unbutton and unzipping the leather pants and shimmying them down his hips and thighs to the best of her ability. With the state of things, she knew better than to think they'd be able to get them down too far. Instead, she just focused on getting them down enough.

Getting them down to his thighs, Nancy still couldn't quite see the extent of everything. The offstage area wasn't exactly brightly lit, with nothing really being easy to see in this dim light. After she'd pull down Kerry's thong, however, she cautiously felt for a sign of something and oh god did she find it.

"I need a light. Someone– a light, before he–" Kerry would groan before she could finish her request. He was finally able to spread his legs some. God, this thing had really just been trying to come out in the most cramped place ever. With the spread of his legs came the feeling of the head slipping down further. So when he pushed, that would give it the shove it needed to come to a full crown. That sharp burn had Kerry gasping, then hunching over and groaning more before Denny would try to urge him to stand up straighter.

With Nancy on catching duty, Denny holding him up, and Henry being utterly fucking useless, that would leave Johnny to be the one to try to find a light.

"A light!" He'd yell from behind Kerry, probably at one of the stagehands. Someone shut the curtain that led to the offstage, while someone finally turned on a light. Coupled with that, Kerry would hear the familiar click of a flashlight.

"There we go… Kerry, you're almost there. Head's almost out. Are you still having a contraction?" Nancy looked up at him, but he could only barely see her past his stomach. He'd try to answer her question, only for it to come out as a pained groan as his body would involuntarily push for him. Nancy said something else, but none of those words would ever make it to Kerry's ears.

The pain was so much louder than everything else, like a siren blaring in his ears telling him to end this. He could barely even hear his own pained moans anymore. Dull nails would involuntarily dig into Denny's wrist. He would have to apologize to her for it later, but for now it would fall away from his mind as quickly as it registered.

The burning finally stopped all at once, eyes going wide and wondering if it was over. His thighs were wet all over again, while he heard more fluids splashed to the ground.

"Head's out."

Fuck.

"Breathe, Kerry. It's almost over. . . . No cord, so you can keep on pushing when you need to."

"Are you all just gonna stand there and watch?! Someone call a fuckin' ambulance!" Denny's own mother henning made Kerry grin slightly. Denny and Nance were so fuckin' good to him… Kerry panted out softly, resting his head against Denny's shoulder and closing his eyes briefly. A very short rest before his body reignited its urge to get this thing out of him.

Feeling one of the shoulders making its way out of him was probably even weirder than feeling the head coming. Second only to the feeling of the baby rotating to get itself out.

"That's it Ker'. You've got this." He heard from Nancy.

"I know it hurts, Ker'. Almost done. Just a couple more." He heard from Denny.

"This is takin' forever…" Johnny sounded almost worried. Like the amount of time it was taking was somehow indicative of how well it was going. Nobody tell him how some people spent literal hours pushing their babies out.

Kerry groaned once again with the peak of his current contraction. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck, this was it!

"It's– Nance– it's!! It's out, it's fucking out!"

"I know, Ker'. I–" Another gush, followed by silence. There was relief. Kerry panted softly, eyes opening fully. A bit of sweat was burning his right eye, but he didn't give a fuck about that right now. No more than a moment later, Kerry heard a tiny cry. Panic really started swirl around them now. Not the band, no. Each one of them was stunned into silence, while the stagehands and general people amongst the production were trying to figure out just what the fuck they were supposed to do. None of them were even a blip on Kerry's radar right now.

Nancy scooted back slightly, lifting the newborn up so the parties involved could see.

She was small, with black hair like Kerry's. Apparently having not inherited his mouth or lungs, because her cry was quiet. Like the saddest thing had just happened to her and she needed an immense amount of love and comfort to assure her that everything was going to be okay.

"Holy shit," Kerry breathed, looking down at the blood covered babe.

That was his. That was the little… the little asshole that had made his life so much more difficult the last several months. Looking down at her, it was feeling difficult to shove that anger onto her like he had before. How could he? She was so little.

He knew he was going to get bitched at to hell and back for all of that, but whatever. That was a future Kerry problem. All he could do for now was just reach out and take his baby from Nancy, unable to pry his eyes from her.

"Hey… hey, I know... I know."

[fantasywritten]

So in your headcanon post, you said that Peter's not a romantic guy, too busy for it. Abby is only romantic in concept, though she tries to mask most of it, because... well, you get asked out as a joke, stood up or laughed at so many times as an adolescent you conclude that it's just not going to happen for you.

Abby still held out hope that one day she'll find someone who loves her as she is, but what changed for Peter when he met Abby?

It definitely wasn’t something immediate. It took time for Peter to even see her in a romantic way. He was always nice to her, especially since Kerry had put in a good word about her, but Peter never saw her as anything more than a coworker. And then, Abby started to pull him away from his obsession with work. She showed him that there was more to life than just solving cases. She showed him that he could still be a good FBI agent while not completely burning himself out. THAT was ultimately what made Peter so drawn to her. He started to see her not just as a coworker, but as a friend.

And then, over time, he started to see her as something more than a friend. I think he probably saw her at a work event all dressed up and had romantic thoughts, just like he did with Perez once. Only with Abby, those thoughts didn’t go away. They lingered in his mind. It took him a while to gather up the courage to make a move, but eventually, after everyone around them kept dying, he realized one thing — LIFE IS SHORT. There’s no point wasting time lusting after someone. You have to make your move. Peter hadn’t dated anyone in a long time, so being with Abby was new and exciting. It brought him joy. And that’s how he fell in love with her.

[theadamfaulkner-stanheight]

OK. I can only point out what’s very recent since I haven’t been watching your account for that long. There could be more and I suspect there probably is but I’m not going to seek things out right now because honestly I don’t have the time.

1. Recently, on the Daniel Matthews, you were asked something about the divorce between his mother and Eric Matthews and you responded that the marriage ended because Eric Matthews had become distant and Daniel’s mother cheated on him with her current boyfriend. This did not happen in the films and in fact Eric Matthews is the cheater as it is literally stated in the movie when he has a discussion with Allison Kerry, his mistress. The marriage ended, yes because Eric Matthews had become withdrawn, but also because he cheated on his wife. For no reason, you came up with lore that made his wife the cheater. If you didn’t know the canon reason for the divorce, there was quite literally no reason for you to make Daniel’s mother a cheater. It was not necessary and adds nothing to the relationship.

2. On the Adam account, in response to a question which mentioned the “vegan feminist girlfriend” which Adam brings up in the movie, you for no reason say she was an “asshole” and brought up the fact that the man that Adam is currently dating is far better than her. Why was it necessary to bring up that she was, apparently, a bad person? Adam seems to hold a bit of animosity for her during the film, but this is only mentioned when he lists several adjectives which make her stereotypically angry. I find it more likely that you came up with that by yourself and it wasn’t strictly a character decision.

3. In response to the mention of Alison Gordon, you say you don’t want to “talk shit” about her where her daughter could see. This obviously implies that Adam, and possibly the admin behind the account, though I can’t say it for certain, holds some strange dislike for Alison. Why? Adam doesn’t seem to hold animosity for her in the film. He actually doesn’t bring up any personal feelings for her at all, but it’s implied in his discussion with Lawrence Gordon that he at the very least thinks that Lawrence cheating was bad. Alison Gordon has done nothing in the canon of the Saw films to make her a bad person. Any mention of her being a bad person besides being a “nagging wife” to Lawrence is entirely fan made. She is nothing but a loving and protective mother in the films, who is reasonably upset with her husband for his behaviour.

4. Finally, though this probably isn’t the last of examples where misogyny has made an appearance on this account or any other, the response to Lawrence’s mistress in the films, Carla. Adam (and again I can’t say how much of this is a character choice, I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt but you’ve made no personal comments on this) calls Carla a “bitch”. That in and of itself is misogynistic, no matter how normalized calling women this is. It is misogyny. Then, he further goes on to say that she was an “asshole” for “going after a married man”. Why is she in the wrong here, first of all? Would it not be more appropriate to say that both she and Lawrence were in the wrong here? Second of all, Lawrence is an older man in a position of direct power over Carla. She didn’t “go after him”, it’s implied very strongly that the attraction was mutual and possibly the relationship was Lawrence going after her. By calling her the “bitch”, and not mentioning Lawrence, it paints a picture that suggests that for some reason she is the only person in the wrong even though she is not.

I’m not saying that you’re a complete misogynist but without any further input from you, the admin, it reads like you honestly believe some of the things you say. I don’t want to believe you do, judging as you are only 16 and afab as you’ve said, but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t do some introspection and that you shouldn’t at least mention when Adam is being a misogynist. Yes, you may not believe in the things he’s saying, and usually it wouldn’t be a problem not to point out exactly when the character is doing something wrong, but you’re in a space full of impressionable people (teens) who adore the character that you’re playing. I find it irresponsible to not at least discuss when something is said that shouldn’t be. I know you feel like you’re really grown up at this age, but you’re honestly not, and neither is any of the young people around you. This is an important discussion to have. Especially in a space centered around media which doesn’t have that many female characters and in which misogyny is very much present. Please, do a little introspection if you haven’t.

I don’t want this to read as an attack, more as somebody who is worried that you may or may not have internalized misogyny and who is, whether you like it or not, influencing the young people around you.

//ok this is really funny. Im gonna go down the list and explain my thought process through all of this

1. I’m explaining this through what Daniel learned. What he knows is from his shitty father and his mother. This kid is basically an unreliable narrator. He took what he could hear. And you’re right I didn’t know/ remember that Eric cheated on his wife, but I followed the vibe of the movie. What would be a good reason for Eric being so depressed? Him driving his wife away, it wasn’t misogynistic, it was me trying to put together what I didn’t remember being mentioned

2. I described his ex of an asshole because that’s what Adam would do? He would call someone an asshole that he didn’t seem too fond of in the movie. If he didn’t like them, he’d call them an asshole

3. If you look pretty far down my blog you’d see interactions with an Allison blog. They made her a toxic crazy ex who kept being really nasty to Adam. I liked Allison, but according to the interactions I’m not gonna make him like her after that.

4. I never said Lawrence wasn’t in the wrong, but going for a married man with a child is also wrong. Lawrence was more in the wrong than her, but due to his codependency and absolute infatuation with Lawrence and the fact the question wasn’t about him I was not going to bring him up.

I understand what you’re saying but I think you should do a deep dive into these characters and your own personality before coming to me about this. These blogs are based on two characters from horror movies that are some of the people furthest away from role models. Daniel is a kid who probably wasn’t sat down and told by his dad that his mother was cheated on. I made it clear that Daniel even likes his mom way more than his dad. Adam spends most of his time on this blog calling many people assholes, bitches, dicks, and more. Because he’s an asshole guy who if he doesn’t like the way someone is he’s gonna insult them. These instances were not misogynist, but over analyzed and had a big deal made of nothing. Simply if you do not like, then don’t read.//

[edactually]

Stede POV - 11.4

This was the most insane thing Stede had ever done.

He’d been a couple of glasses of wine deep when he’d seen the ad in his search results the previous night. Thoughts of Ed and that initial sultry photo he’d sent him swirled through his mind and all Stede could think about (besides how desperate he was to have his boyfriend back home) was how he could reciprocate.

The ad in his search results had seemed like fate, and there was a discount running for thirty percent off, so Stede had booked a session before he could think better of it.

It had seemed like the kind of wild and impulsive thing one might do for their partner, but standing outside the studio in the rain after a long day of work, Stede was starting to reconsider.

He had spent the entirety of his first day back holed up in his office, with Lucius acting as his security guard, of sorts. Funny how no one could be bothered with Stede normally, but when there was a rumour going around that he was dating a celebrity, suddenly everyone wanted to visit his office, and some of the excuses were laughable. Lucius had kept him up to date throughout the day of who insisted upon important meetings or paperwork Stede had to sign in person, all as an excuse to get into his office and press him for information about Blackbeard.

Given that Lucius was prone to gossip, Stede was pleased that his assistant didn’t give in to it, and kept all of the sniffing dogs at bay, telling them that Stede was far too busy and was not to be disturbed as he caught up on work. When people did insist upon prying, like they did at the debrief that Stede had to attend, he stuck to his excuse that he had run into Blackbeard who remembered him from the fainting incident and invited him to a Halloween party when he heard Stede had no plans for the holiday. The loaning of the Blackbeard outfit was simply because Stede didn’t have a costume. While he considered himself on friendly terms with Blackbeard, they had spent very little of the night together and it had been nothing more than a coincidental meeting. The rumours were just rumours, and Stede was not in touch with Blackbeard.

Some people clearly believed it, others didn’t, and some were on the fence, but Stede refused to elaborate further. The office was rife with gossip, something else would crop up soon to divert people’s attention.

The crew were harder to convince, and they had been battering Stede with constant messages for most of the day, until they had suddenly stopped just after lunch. He could only assume that Lucius had said something in their other group chat (that he was not a part of) that either persuaded them Stede was telling the truth or - more likely - that Lucius had other, better gossip to keep them entertained.

Now he was halfway between his car and the building after that exhausting day and feeling apprehensive. He could always turn back, but he surged forwards instead, deciding he could think about it inside the building and out of the rain.

Once he was inside and had closed his umbrella (after shaking the water off outside the door, he wasn’t an animal), he found that he was standing in a quiet waiting area where the receptionist behind the desk beamed at him.

“Hello!” The voice was bright and friendly and did alleviate his nerves a touch. “Do you have a booking?”

“Yes, er…” He took a step closer to the desk. “It should be under Stede Bonnet, for seven pm?”

There was the sound of a keyboard clacking and the receptionist was focusing on her computer screen. Stede took a moment to read the shiny gold name tag pinned to her smart blazer. “Ah yes, here you are, Mr. Bonnet. The last session finished right on time so you’re free to go through now if you like.”

“Now?” Stede clutched his hands together and felt the slick of his sweaty palms sliding against each other.

The receptionist (Kerry, as per her name tag) smiled in a way that said she’d seen it all before. “First time?”

Stede pressed his lips together tightly and nodded once.

“Everyone is nervous the first time, but this is a safe environment.” She smiled reassuringly. “Your photographer will put you at ease and offer suggestions, but there’s no pressure to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“And what if I’m not comfortable taking anything off?” Stede whispered.

“Then you’ll work with your photographer to find a compromise. You don’t have to be naked to take a good photo. If fully clothed is all you’re comfortable with, then that’s completely fine.”

The reassurance was needed and although Stede couldn’t say that his nerves were completely gone, he did feel brave enough to head through to the studio. He gave Kerry a small wave as he walked through the door and she offered a thumbs up in encouragement.

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[elvenbeard]

Pier Selfies

Johnny's death's anniversary feels particularly heavy that year, so much so that Kerry had planned to just not get up at all. Unless to get even more drunk maybe. Then V swings by, as if he’d known in what state to find him… But instead of joining him in bed (not cool) he drags him outside where it's bright and warm and loud and everyone's so fucking happy... it sucks.

V is thankfully not forcing him to pretend that it's a day like any other, neither is he offering unwanted advice. In fact he's just... there. With him. Occasionally taking his hand, or maybe even just lacing their pinky fingers. Leaning against him, gently nudging into him when they walk side-by-side. They barely talk all day, really. Not a single “are you okay?”, thankfully, that might have made him drive back home instantly. Just occasionally something inconsequential like “do you want to grab food over there?” and that would be the end of it when Kerry says he isn’t hungry. Every single time something comes up that would have normally tempted him to just snap back, get mad… all his anger is diffused the same moment.

It’s strange, it’s different… It takes him all day, but eventually Kerry realizes V might be the only person to really understand just how much this still hurt. Probably much better than anyone before ever did.

He disappears briefly to grab something to drink for himself, leaving Kerry to think and smoke and stare into the void for a few minutes. And he hates to admit it… but the sea breeze, the sun, it does feel good. He does feel a little better than he did this morning, did yesterday, did all week before really.

Suddenly there's a slight clicking noise not far behind him. He’d heard V coming back, so familiar the way he walked by now, confident and with a little swagger, the sound of his boots on the pavement unmistakable.

"The hell are ya doing?" he turns around, not angry, but confused.

"Sorry," V says, smiling sheepishly, "You looked so pretty in the sun, I couldn't resist."

"Pretty pathetic, you mean?" Kerry mutters as V joins him by the railing. He just doesn't seem to manage a single kind word today, not towards V or to himself, and that just increases his frustration. He wonders how the fuck V just manages to stay so calm about it, sipping his NiCola. He would have blown a fuse by now.

"Nothing pathetic about missing your best friend," is V's reply eventually, sober and quiet. Fuck. Yes, he does understand.

Kerry huffs, puts his cigarette out, and then forces himself to relax his shoulders.

"Lemme see," he says and V shows him the pics he took. He can't help but smile at V's mischievous grin in one of them, right after he noticed him.

"You're such a gonk," he chuckles.

"And I almost got away with it," V says proudly, leaning against the railing, letting his head fall back, soda can still in hand, eyes closed and basking in the sun. Kerry catches himself staring at his pulse point, right next to the gleaming silver lines of his cyberware, his dark tattoos moving over his muscles...

“Yeah, you almost did,” he says quietly, and his thoughts begin to spiral downwards again. V’s eyes blink open, and he straightens up, but says nothing for a couple of moments. Then he pulls out his phone again.

“Come on, look at us! I think together we could take some preem ones. ‘bout time we add some good memories to the day.”

Not replace, or erase. Add some new ones. If he wasn’t so numb still, he might have started bawling right then and there.

“Fuck, like some teens on their first date?” Kerry moans, as always excelling at not letting his inner workings show too much all at once.

V turns to him with a smirk, phone already in position above their heads.

“What? Scared you’re out of practice, millennial?”

“Oh, I’ll show you who’s out of practice, kid,” Kerry says, pulling V closer.

Yes, maybe they were both just pretending that everything was going to be alright, on a day like this. But maybe a little bit of pretending was the key to somehow making it through it all.

-------

I just went and took a ton of screenshots the other day with no real purpose other than "cute couple selfies polaroid-style, yay!". But as I was going through them to pick some faves for editing and arranging, I felt like maybe there is a story to this after all...

bonus of my favourite out of the whole set, because I can literally hear and see them moving here, like... Kerry fixing his hair cause it's fuckin wimdy and Vince just being a massive gonk commenting on it or something else, probably just taking this pic on accident. Didn't think jojo's bizarre photomode idles could make for such a good moment XD

[misscarolineshelby]

A New Life

Part Nine: First Night Away

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 3,605

Warning: Angst, Smut

Original Blogger: @queenshelby

The long weekend trip to Kerry was fast approaching and you hired a car to drive there with Max with the view to visit your cousin on the way.

You were the first one to arrive at Cillian’s holiday house on Thursday afternoon and were thankful for the GPS and the fact that Max slept the whole way through.

The house was not far from many beautiful walking tracks and was even somewhat secluded. It was a large house, but somewhat dated and it was obvious to you that Cillian liked to keep the old charm of the house rather than turn into something modern.

‘Are these your sheep?’ you said as you stepped out of the car and Cillian greeted you after having heard your car pull up.

‘No, they belong to the neighbours’ Cillian said and you looked around somewhat confused. There was no other house nearby.

‘Neighbours?’ you chuckled and Cillian nodded.

‘Yes, they live a kilometre up this way’ he said, pointing north, before asking you to come inside.

The house was beautiful and featured a new but rustic kitchen and three bathrooms. The living room contained a large stone fire place and there were five bedrooms.

‘I am sorry that you have to bunk with Laura’ Cillian said as he carried your bag to one of the rooms after having shown Max where he will be sleeping with his two cousins and a friend’s young son named Connor.

‘Well, I thought that you would be sharing a room with her after the rumours I have heard’ you winked and Cillian couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Rumours, eh? What have you heard?’ he then asked and, whilst you knew that you should have kept this to yourself, you couldn’t.

This was all you had been thinking about for the past two days and you were seriously bothered by the fact that Cillian and Laura had shared an intimate moment together.

‘I’ve heard that you and Laura shared a kiss’ you said, pretending not to be bothered by it.

‘If, by sharing a kiss, you mean that she forced herself on me when she had too much to drink then yes, the rumours are true’ Cillian laughed rather amused.

‘That’s not how I heard it. Apparently, you guys had a moment’ you said surprised but Cillian shook his head.

‘The kiss wasn’t mutual Y/N. She was drunk and I am actually quite surprised that she remembered it at all. I had to take her back to her hotel room and help her lie down. That’s how wasted she was’ Cillian said somewhat amused and you couldn’t help but start laughing as well.

‘Well, I think she might actually like you Cillian. It was more than a stupid drunk moment for her’ you explained somewhat concerned but Cillian still didn’t take you serious.

‘I am not interested in her Y/N’ Cillian then confirmed.

‘I don’t care if you are’ you then said with blushing cheeks which is when you heard Cian’s car pull up as well.

***

The afternoon went fast and, while Cillian, Cian and their mutual friend Liam prepared dinner, Laura, Evelyn and you played a boardgame with the children in front of the fire place.

After dinner and after all of the children went to bed, you opened two bottles of wine and enjoyed some time just between adults, talking and joking together before your big day tomorrow.

Laura tried her best to get closer to Cillian throughout the evening, sitting next to him whenever she could and teaming up with him during a game of trivia.

You tried not to let this bother you while Cillian behaved just as he would normally without letting her get too close after what you had told him.

But Laura didn’t give up and would, occasionally, brush her hand over Cillian’s arms or otherwise try to make physical contact with him.

You couldn’t help but cringe every time you noticed it and Cillian had become almost oblivious to her actions as the night went on and she had a few glasses of wine to drink yet again.

Eventually, Evelyn and Laura decided that they drank enough. They both wanted to be ready for the hike tomorrow and decided to go to bed at around 10 o’clock that evening, leaving you to sit in front of the fire place with Cian, Liam and Cillian.  

‘I might just quickly change into my pyjamas so that I don’t wake you when I come in’ you suggested to Laura who, surprisingly, you had been getting on with perfectly fine that day.

‘Sure, thanks’ Laura said as you followed her into the bedroom. You knew that, sharing a bad with her would be awkward, but you knew that space was limited.

***

‘Where did everyone go?’ you asked surprised when you returned to the living room after you got changed and saw that only Cillian was left sitting there with his glass of wine.

‘To bed’ he chuckled before topping up your glass and handing it to you. It was obvious that he wasn’t tired yet.

‘Wow, alright…old farts’ you joked while, the truth was, that you didn’t really mind at all. You enjoyed spending time with Cillian on your own and you quickly got talking again, about literature, art and theatre which were all the things you couldn’t talk about when Cian or the others were around.

Then, eventually, the topic of past relationships came up again and you talked about that for at least twenty minutes until you decided that it was enough. It had become too depressing and Cillian wanted to put an end to the conversation.

‘You know, just fuck him Y/N. I think you just have to enjoy life without thinking too much about it and ignore the people who want to interfere with it’ Cillian said after you told him about the latest stunt your ex-boyfriend had pulled back home, alleging that you had cheated on him which was far from the truth.

‘I love your no fucks given attitude; you know that?’ you then smiled. Of course, you knew that he was right about it. You couldn’t let this sort of behaviour bother you. But somehow, it did. It annoyed you and made you angry.

‘This kind of attitude comes with age’ Cillian grinned before looking up at the sky featuring a cloud-free star-scape overhead through one of the large skylight windows in the living room.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ you said, looking up as well, and Cillian agreed with your observations.

‘You know, I really enjoyed the night we shared with each other last week’ you then said to break the silence in the room, causing Cillian to look at you with his piercing blue eyes.

‘Me too’ he responded, smiling and waiting for you to say something else. It was almost like he was lost for words.

‘I was thinking that…perhaps…we should do this again some time’ you then said, unable to take your eyes of him.

‘Y/N, I think that would be a bad idea. As I said earlier, I don’t want to be in a relationship right now’ he explained and you told him again that you didn’t want to be in a relationship either.

‘I am going back home in six weeks Cillian. It would just be sex, occasionally, now and then, whenever we feel like it. No strings attached’ you explained, causing him to cock an eyebrow and sigh.

‘Well, you just said to me before that, sometimes, you just have to enjoy life without thinking too much about it’ you reminded him with a wicked smile, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘Whilst this was not what I had in mind when I told you to enjoy life, I think that I may be open to your proposal’ Cillian then smirked and, just as he did, you got up from your seat and stood in front of him, leaning down slightly and cupping his face.

‘Would you just?’ you teased, biting your lips seductively before pressing them onto Cillian’s lips who, without hesitation, gave into the kiss.

‘I would. In fact, sleeping with you again had been on my mind’ Cillian admitted after your lips drifted apart and, as soon as Cillian put his wine glass down, you crawled onto his lap which is where you could feel his erection poke eagerly against the fabric of his jeans.

‘Clearly you have. You are so hard for me already’ you breathed out teasingly in between sensual kisses all the while you were grinding yourself against him, allowing your own core to get some friction.

‘We can’t risk doing this out here Y/N’ Cillian said eventually as he felt himself getting even more aroused than he already was. You talking dirty to him was the icing on the cake and there was no turning back now.

‘Let’s take it to your bedroom then’ you suggested while getting off Cillian’s lap and straightening up your clothes but, to your surprise, Cillian shook his head.

‘I think we should wait until we get back to Dublin’ Cillian said, causing you to pout.

‘Why?’ you asked, running your hand over his crotch seductively, teasing his hard cock through the fabric of his jeans.  

‘Because your brother could hear us and I am very keen to live another day’ Cillian chuckled, but you wouldn’t let down.

‘I need you to fuck me tonight, Cillian. I am serious. I am all horny now. Feel that’ you demanded while taking hold of his hand and pushing it beneath your cotton pyjama pants and inside your panties.

‘Jesus Y/N. You are soaking’ Cillian said in a low groan while pushing his finger inside you slightly.

‘That’s just what you do to me Cillian. Now take me to your bedroom and fuck me’ you demanded while grinding yourself against his hand.

‘Alright, but you need to be a good girl for me and stay quiet. Can you do that?’ Cillian then asked before taking your hand and, of course, you nodded eagerly.

***

Within minutes, you found yourself in Cillian’s bed with his bedroom door locked from the inside.

You were both almost completely naked, facing each other and sharing playful kisses.

As you were kissing, you pressed your hand against Cillian’s chest, then running your fingers over his back and then back down over his stomach until your fingertips were just tracing under the waistband of his Calvin Klein briefs.

‘You know how often I’ve been thinking about you over the past week?’ Cillian then asked as he took you by surprise, suddenly kissing you back hard, leaning into you, and thrusting the hardness of his erection between your thighs, which opened in an instinctive response.

‘Me too. In fact, I’ve been fantasising about you fucking me while I am masturbating’ you moaned as your head went back and you groaned softly as he kissed up down your neck with an insistence that was completely irresistible. You threw your leg over his hips and pulled him into you.

You could hear Cillian’s breath becoming harder and more ragged now as you ran your hand down into his underwear to free his glorious, throbbing cock from its restrictions.

You pulled your hips back so you could run your hand up and down his thick shaft, and play with the drop of precum that was oozing from the head with the tip of your finger and, without even thinking, you brought the finger up to your lips so that you could taste him.

‘Jesus Y/N, that’s so fucking sexy’ Cillian groaned in approval.

He had one arm under your neck and the other cupping your ass under your panties, pulling you into him, before you felt him reach down the back of your thigh beneath the stretching elastic.

He then slid his fingers up the front of your eagerly parting legs, teasingly fingering your outer folds where you knew he could feel how your pussy was suddenly flooded with warmth and wetness.

‘So, fucking wet for me…I can’t wait to slide my cock inside you’ Cillian whispered as you tried to stifle your delighted moan as he breathed into your ear.

‘I need it so badly Cillian. I need your cock inside me’ you moaned in response and, with one motion, he pulled your panties down to your knees, where they were easy for you to wriggle out of. More clumsily, but no less hungrily, you pulled at the elastic and cotton that still covered the base of Cillian’s straining cock and his balls, until he took pity on you and pulled off his underwear.

For a moment, the feel of Cillian’s naked body pressed against yours took your breath away, and you could hear that he had the same reaction. His lips found yours in the middle of your intake of breath, kissing you passionately.

You gasped as he broke away and gave you another quick kiss on your neck while rolling you over onto your back. Cillian’s body was protective on top of you and his hips were pressing into yours while the head of his cock flirtatiously and teasingly brushed against your outer folds.

‘Please, I need you inside me’ you begged again as, breathlessly, you reached down and pulled him towards you, one hand pulling at his hips, the other desperately, thirstily trying to guide the head of his cock into the wetness of your screaming, impatient, painfully empty pussy.

Cillian resisted one more second while he covered your mouth with his and then, finally, after what seemed like eternity, plunged all the way into you.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned loudly into Cillian’s mouth which was a completely involuntary response to the feeling of him thrusting so deeply and forcefully inside you.

But your moaning didn’t stop there. Instead, you continued to moan loudly as Cillian began to move inside you.

‘Shh’ he whispered past your lips after he pulled away from the kiss and he quickly covered your mouth with his hand instead.  

You nodded in response as he started moving very slowly but deeply in and out of you, holding each stroke at its deepest point, filling you up entirely.

You smiled, and kissed the palm of his hand that was pressing across your lips to show him that you remembered that Cian and Evelyn were in the next room.

When Cillian saw that you got control of yourself, he moved his hand caressingly down your neck, to your breast, and down to play with your clit.

The other hand grabbed your leg up onto his shoulder, pulling you up onto his cock as he thrusted downward, over and over, establishing that perfect rhythm that was at once too rapid for your sensory overload, and too slow for your insatiable, hungry need for him.

As you looked up at Cillian you could see his eyes burning down into yours, turning you on even more.

Within no time, you clenched down on him hard with your muscles mid-stroke, your pussy pulling him back into you just as he was pulling out, and this time it was your turn to reach your fingers up to his lips to hastily and tenderly stifle the resounding groan that was nearly wrenched from him in response.

‘You feel so fucking wet and tight around my cock’ Cillian whispered before he leaned down to kiss you.

As you shared a passionate kiss, Cillian suddenly thrusted hard and unyieldingly into you once more, and again, and again, cutting off your moans with a gasp of overwhelming pleasure.

‘Oh god yes yes yes’ you moaned as quietly as you could as he continued this new pace unrelenting, driving into you with forceful, fierce, inexorable, remorseless, incredibly deep and increasingly intense, insistent thrusts.

When Cillian was sure that you were not going to cry out in spite of the mind-blowing pleasure, he slowly sat back upright. His hands were holding you down on his cock as he shifted positions, and then spreading both your legs wide so he could go even deeper.

Fucking you hard and deep, you watched from above as you arched your back and bit your lip in mute ecstasy, gazing back up at him as your hand strayed down to work your swollen, pulsing clit. The feeling was so incredible it took literally all your self-control to not scream as you rode closer and closer to orgasm on the grinding girth of Cillian’s cock.

‘I am so close Cillian’ you moaned quietly and, just when you thought you couldn’t take too much more, you saw Cillian’s jaw clench and heard him draw a deep breath.

‘So am I’ Cillian groaned just as you felt his body shudder and his cock swell inside you, which is when you let go.

Your head was thrown back and your eyes were tightly shut as you started to cum. Your lips were also pressed shut as you concentrated on not making a sound, feeling wave after wave of pleasure roll down your body and ring through your pussy, until you felt Cillian reach down, his fingers at the back of your neck and his thumb against your mouth, compelling your eyes to snap open and meet his as he surged into you, flooding you with his warm cum as quietly as he possibly could.

Coming in sync like this with him was surreal and, whilst you didn’t let yourself go completely to avoid being too loud, it was intense. Seeing the fire in each other’s eyes and feeling the passion build up between your bodies was all you needed.

‘I needed this so fucking bad’ you huffed out, relieved, when Cillian collapsed onto you and you wrapped your arms and legs around him, pulling him close and kissing his ear, his cheek, his forehead and then his lips as your bodies trembled and you both gasped for breath.

‘I am sorry for not being more experimental tonight but I don’t like the fact that your brother is right next door’ Cillian whispered as he stayed there on top of you for a minute, breathing hard into the hair just behind your ear and absently kissing your neck.

‘It was perfect Cillian’ you said rather satisfied by what you had achieved within 45 minutes while Cillian carefully pulled out of you, causing some of his cum to leak onto the sheets beneath you.

You both rolled to your sides, facing each other before you resolved into an uncontrollable flood of silent kisses and caresses. Cillian was still holding you close to him and you felt at ease and ready to fall asleep in his arms once again. But, you knew that you had to get up and get into your own bed instead so that you wouldn’t raise any suspicions.

‘I better go and sneak back to my room’ you eventually said but Cillian wasn’t quite ready to let you go despite the fact that it was already 2 o’clock in the morning and you were scheduled to get up for your hike at 7am.

‘Not yet, stay just a little longer’ Cillian said before kissing you again gently and you continued like this for another ten minutes before calling it a night.

After you said goodnight to each other, you tippy toed back into your room where Laura was sleeping deeply.

You climbed into the bed beside her, not sure whether you could fall asleep after what you had just been doing. You also felt a sense of shame, being there right next to her after having been with the man she desired. But this sense of shame you were feeling was quickly taken over by more lust for Cillian as, after you pulled the doona over your body, you could feel another gush of Cillian’s cum leak from your core and into your cotton panties. The thought of his cum being inside you made you all excited again. You wanted more, so much more. You knew that you were in for more wet dreams and regretted not having demanded a second round from Cillian before you left his room, knowing that he was very much capable of going again.

***

The following morning, when your alarm went off at 7 o’clock, you stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and with dark circles beneath your eyes.

Cillian was already sitting on the kitchen table in his pyjamas, drinking his coffee and trying to maintain a conversation with Cian who appeared rather lively. Cillian, on the other hand, did not. He was clearly still tired and even a little exhausted.

‘Good Morning, Sister’ Cian said, smiling and handing you a cup of coffee which you gladly accepted.

‘You obviously stayed up late. You look tired’ he then said while Cillian gave you an innocent wink when Cian looked the other way to grab some sugar for Evelyn’s coffee.

‘Yes, I had a few more glasses of wine by the fireplace’ you said, cheeks blushing as you watched Laura sit down next to Cillian and trying her luck again, flirting with him and trying to get his attention.

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