#kerry my legend

[aerinedd]

Supreme Kerry 2 🎸✨ (Wallpaper style)

[civilization-illstayrighthere]

while i do think Kerry can be emotionally distant and closed off at times, especially when he feels slighted or hurt, i don’t see the new ending as evidence of that. He tries to listen to V and keeps getting interrupted, but he’s also in the middle of a tour (notoriously crazy busy at his fame level) and had also been (albeit accidentally) ghosted by V for two entire fucking years. And yet, he laughs with excitement hearing V is back, asks if he needs any monetary support, says he’ll see him right after the tour in four months. Is he busy? Yes. V would have known this getting into a relationship with Kerry. Musical artists have crazy tour times and then slower times off-tour. V himself was booked and busy himself with his job. Kerry literally seems like the ONLY one of the love interests in that ending where a chance at reigniting the relationship is even possible! I actually really like that ending because it shows him as he is: a vain, successful rockerboy who is a touch vapid and short attention spanned but honestly really caring and giving to those who he holds dear. While, you know— being a grown adult invested in his career with responsibilities and obligations he has beyond what was, though life changing, a few week romantic fling that, again, ghosted him for two entire calendar years.

[winterbirb]

I know I'm months late to the party but what the fuck even is Russia's personal sanctions list

Like we have.

Guy who's definitely a war criminal of the actual war criminal variety, not the "I don't like politician x" kind

Random fucking NYU/CNN guy

LADY GAGA??

Rando DEA guy who doesn't even have his own page

Lady running the US olympic committee, for some reason?

Vice President of Airplanes

What did these people even do 😭

[meeghanreads]

Top 5 books with baked goods

Hello friends!! Welcome to Top 5 Tuesday!! This week’s topic is top 5 books with baked goods!! This Thursday, 14 March is International Pi Day. Something about 3.14… maths, circles, other math/sciency things. Look, I read a lot of fantasy and romance. I don’t need to understand how to calculate a circumference. So, instead of picking 5 books that have something to do with math or STEM (let’s be…

[mermaidsirennikita]

I've gotta say, as bleak as the convos surrounding the status of historical romance in traditional publishing have been lately, I've been so pleased by some of the recent books out and the books coming out

—The Beast Takes a Bride by Julie Anne Long is one of the best books I've read by her (and I've read... hmm... over 12, I think) and such a fabulous example of how to do something light without making it stakes-less

—Elizabeth Hoyt is back and absolutely up to her usual (high) standards with No Ordinary Duchess in December, with a really sensitive exploration of kink (and it's not heavy, which I personally think is something certain readers who've become used to a really casual usage of kink that honestly just exists there to titillate will ding her for, and it bugs me because "more kink on the page" is not inherently "good kink on the page" BUT WHATEVER) that's especially interesting when you compare it to Wicked Temptations, which by no means did it BADLY but did it in a more basic manner...

Just all around, a very sexy, character-based Hoyt, and I just want her to stick around and write for as long as she wants to.

—Lorraine Heath returning to her Scoundrels of St. James generational saga with A Tempest of Desire, which is another character-heavy angstfest (and I'm seeing a theme with all three of these authors being a bit less plotty than some of their novels have been, but avoiding the pitfall of "ain't shit happening") with a classic Heathian moment that made me go "NOOOOOOOOOO" out loud in the most forlorn way lol

—A Tropical Rebel Gets the Duke by Adriana Herrera, which I'm currently reading, being an easy knockout if she keeps this up (which I'm pretty damn sure she will) and combining social commentary with swoony romance in a way few authors can top

—TJ Alexander giving us a trans m/m historical romance with A Gentleman's Gentleman next year; haven't read, but I fully trust TJ and am so excited to see their work in the historical realm

—Alexandra Vasti continuing to make headway in her tradpub career with Earl Crush (on my list to read soon!), while she seems to be plotting a f/f historical next...?

—Vivienne Lorret finishing out her latest series with This Much is True, keeping that Tessa Dare-style romcom flag flying

—Enemy of My Dreams by Jenny Williamson taking us somewhere new (or, new for the first time in a while) with an Ancient Roman historical romance

—And honestly? The amount of influence and combination of historical romance with fantasy/paranormal I'm seeing. I've just started Kerri Maniscalco's Throne of Secrets, which is set, literally, in Hell... And we have ballrooms, we have lords and ladies, we have "I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW" Pride and Prejudice overtones. The Legend of Meneka taking us centuries back in a fantastical parallel world to India. When the Tides Held the Moon giving us gay mermaid action in 1910s New York. Hungerstone sending up Carmilla in a rapidly industrializing England.

There IS great stuff coming out, and it's interesting to see the continuing evolution of the subgenre.

[swearingcactus]

[sometimes the streetkid looks at the fancy suits and dinners those shithead corpos get; or the dirt tracks and broken beer bottles the nomads leave in their wake... and convinces himself he won't like it any better than going home to concrete that hug too tight and a city that cheats on him.]

on a meta level? streetkid V my beloved. on a story level? i think sometimes, privately, little v gets self-conscious after meeting people like Rogue who's the biggest fixer in NC or Judy who's the best BD editor he knows, or Kerry who's this massive rockerboy legend, and all these other big shots.. and sometimes, privately, he still feels like a nobody kid from Heywood.

[elvenbeard]

Makes me Feel Better

Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfic

Summary: After a truly horrendous week and tying off some loose ends, V and Kerry finally get some well-deserved downtime, including a heart-to-heart, good (and better) music, and some unexpected familiar faces showing up. (Post-Sun-Ending, mostly canon-compliant, Chapter 15/?, 8923 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V - notes at the end) >> Previous Chapter >> Read from the Beginning

The next two days were a blur. Tests and preparation, complicated diagnostics and elaborate research and planning blended the Med Center’s sterile brightness and the Afterlife’s noise and shady corners into an indistinguishable mess. Every second waiting for scans to complete V spent reading through dossiers and texting back and forth with Rogue. Between talks with clients and crews he slipped away into the bathroom for a minute to down the whole new array of meds Fuentes had prescribed him – right between all those wanna-be-mercs taking a piss and bragging about how they’d be the next Afterlife legend. V just stared his tired reflection in the eyes, harrow like a skull in the pale green light and listened to them, trying not to burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all.

The rapid whirr of the tiny electric saw chewing into his cast clashed with the bright white examination room this Friday afternoon. With a soft “click” it clipped through the last remaining connection that had kept his wrist restrained.

“There you go,” Jayda smiled, the medtech that had been taking care of him immediately after his accident as well. She pulled the cast away and V sighed with relief at being able to have his full range of motion back in his left hand. He wiggled his fingers and carefully tested if everything still moved as it should after being locked into place for a week, popped his personal link out and back in to make sure it was intact.

“Feels good, right?” Jayda said with amusement as she tossed the remains of the cast into a trashcan.

“That’s an understatement,” V said dryly.

“Just take it slow for a bit still,” she urged, “The nanites and meds did their job, but even so, it’s still a relatively fresh injury.”

V nodded.

“What about driving?” he then asked, “Riding my motorbike?”

Jayda raised her eyebrows.

“Only if you promise to not end up here again anytime soon,” she said with a wink and picked up her datapad, “Now all you gotta do is sign here and you’re good to go.”

“Thanks,” V said on the way out, glad that at least today’s stay at the Med Center had been a short one. He had worked his way through all his scheduled meetings at the Afterlife already, too. Simultaneously stoked yet also terrified of his further plans for the day, or rather, the night, he went on his way home.

Meanwhile, Kerry paid Lee a visit at his office. Locking the door behind him while saying “Payday’s here, Lee,” turned out to be immensely effective in reminding Lee who had the upper hand in this game now.

“K-Kerry! Listen! I told no-one anything!” Lee instantly started bumbling and sprung up from his office chair. He almost knocked over a showcase displaying awards won by talented artists that Lee hadn’t even met in person before, Kerry was pretty sure. Then he stumbled backwards against the window, a thin panel of smartglass separating him from a 30-story-fall into one of Charter Hills’s busiest shopping areas. He raised his hands in defense and whimpered, all the while Kerry still had only just set a foot into the room.

This was Kovachek’s old office, and admittedly, that was one of the main reasons Kerry still avoided it like the plague. Too many bad memories of that motherfucker going on and on and on until Kerry didn’t have any coherent thoughts left in his head anymore. Even worse that Lee hadn’t changed the place up much, either – to Kerry’s disappointment but also none of his surprise.

The wall to the right was covered in platinum records, most of them Kerry’s, as well as the aforementioned display cases, three in a row. In front of them, facing into the room, stood the pretentious black marble desk with two armchairs for visitors. The left half of the office consisted mainly of a seating area with sleek but uncomfortable-as-a-pile-of-bricks sofas, as well as a small bar including a mini fridge. And, of course, more shelves displaying awards, framed posters, or special records that Lee had no personal connection to.

Kerry slowly walked over to the desk and shoved the two chairs out of the way. He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms, never breaking eye contact with Lee, who was sweating blood.

“Told ya you owe me for the shit with V’s pills, motherfucker,” he said, calm but stern, “And you’re gonna do exactly what I tell ya. Got it?”

Lee just nodded but didn’t move away from his spot by the window, nor did he lower his hands. Kerry scrunched his nose in annoyance.

“C’mon, sit your ass down and take notes, I’m not gonna explain this shit twice!”

Lee just nodded and stumbled back behind his desk while Kerry flopped into one of the two armchairs, fingers interlocked across his chest, one leg dangling over the armrest. Then he began to recount what he and V had discussed the previous night, making sure Lee took note of every detail, every step of the plan.

Kerry had no doubt that it would all work out. What tied his stomach into a knot though was handing so much responsibility to Lee.

“All clear?” Kerry asked at the end of his instructions. Lee was as white as a sheet, hunched over his computer as he read through his notes.

“Y-yeah… Yeah, understood.”

“Nova… then get your ass to work. V’s gonna send you all the deets you still need in a few,” he said and got up to go back to the door, “Goes without saying that you’re not gonna talk to anyone but him or me about this?”

Lee nodded hesitantly.

“What if…” he whimpered, looking back and forth between Kerry and his screen, “What if some of these things like… the contracts… what if I run into trouble with that?”

“Well, first of all… ya better don’t,” Kerry threatened, pointing a finger at Lee, “But if there is anything goin’ not as planned, you fuckin’ call me immediately. Time to show MSM that they’re just as useless without me as I’d be without ‘em.”

The last sentence he only muttered, more to himself than at Lee. But with that he unlocked the door, walked out the office, out the building as fast as he could, couldn’t wait to be back home where V likely already waited for him.

“Babe, I’m home!” Kerry called with a singsong voice as he exited the elevator and stepped into their kitchen a short while later. No response. He shivered and the good mood he had hyped himself up to all the way here dwindled.

“Vince?”

Then Nibbles perked up on the sofa and caught Kerry’s attention, big greyish pink ears pointed in his direction. She yawned and stretched, jumped down and jogged towards him with a purry meow. But Kerry’s eyes remained glued to the sofa, where V laid curled up on his side, the cat cuddled up against him until now it seemed. Kerry managed to resist the urge to sprint towards him to check on him just long enough for V to sleepily lift his head, muttering a weak “Hey! Sorry, dozed off”.

Kerry took a shaky but relieved breath.

“You good?” he called over, still worried, and placed the two cups of coffee he’d gotten on the road on the kitchen counter. Nibbles meanwhile briefly rubbed against his legs before trailing off to her bowl. Kerry took the chance to walk over to V who stretched and groaned but didn’t get up yet.

“Yeah… relatively speakin’ at least,” he said. He had turned on his back now, rubbed his eyes, and Kerry squeezed onto the sofa next to his legs.

“Headache again?” he asked carefully, reaching out to take V’s hand, delighted briefly when he noticed that the cast was gone.

“Oh, fuckin’ finally,” he laughed, entangling their fingers. V also chuckled, blinking at Kerry as if he was blinded. He didn’t look like he just woke up from a nap, more like he hadn’t slept in three days.

“You sure you’re good?” Kerry asked once more.

“Yeah, just the meds I think,” V said and slowly sat up now, almost as if trying to prove his point, “The anti-seizure ones have ‘tiredness’, ‘exhaustion’ and so on listed as common side effects. Just wanted to close my eyes for five minutes, and that turned into… almost two hours, fuck…”

He shifted around, let go of Kerry’s hand, but was too wobbly on his feet still to get up immediately.

“Woah there, easy, we still got time,” Kerry said, “Literally just got home, too. Lee’s dumb as fuck and I had to explain everythin’ twice, told ya.”

V let out one brief, hoarse laugh, but at least he let Kerry coerce him into staying on the sofa a little while longer.

“You think he’ll manage?”

“He’s literally a fuckin’ manager, so he better,” Kerry couldn’t resist and V snorted.

“New level of dad joke reached.”

Kerry gently nudged him with his elbow, eliciting a cute little grin and teasing side-eye out of V.

“Nah, but in all seriousness,” he then said, “Your plan’s pretty fuckin’ amazing, for how quickly you came up with it. Not even Lee could mess it up.”

“We came up with it,” V corrected him, “Was your idea in the first place. And you got all the inside knowledge and connections.”

“That’s why we make such a good team,” Kerry grinned, trying to catch V’s gaze, but he still seemed a little absent, looking out the window at the slowly setting sun.

“Mh-hm, yeah we do,” he said, then closed his eyes again, almost as if he was ready to fall asleep once more.

“Alright,” Kerry said, and gave V a quick kiss on the cheek to keep him alert, “Go team! Ya ready for tonight?”

“Hell yeah,” V said still tired but opened his eyes again, and Kerry helped him up from the sofa to head upstairs. Time they got ready to party.

V wore his hair differently than what Kerry was used to that evening. Slicked back and neat. His smudged eyeliner was dialed back a notch as well. Now more than ever he looked like in the photos from a few years ago that Kerry had seen, of Arasaka functions and parties. Only that V’s hair was more colorful now and his choice of clothing reflected his personality so much more than just a sleek black and red suit. In the AV that took them to the release party for Kerry’s first single in a much longer time than what he’d like to admit, V quickly sent the last messages and instructions for the day, including the intel for Lee. While he was occupied with that, instead of looking out the window across the sprawling cityscape, Kerry only had eyes for V. He wore a golden yellow shirt with an intricate, dark-blue pattern resembling suns. He had it buttoned up only halfway, so his chest tattoo of stylized wings peeked out, almost appeared like a bird flying against the sunset. Or an angel. Or Icarus. On the seat beside him rested a sleek dark purple blazer, and he wore the matching pants, dark blue shoes with gold details rounding off the look. Kerry had never noticed the shirt nor the suit before and wondered if V bought both at some point in the last few days specifically for the party. Then again, he never missed a chance to dress up nicely like this, as chances to do so were rare. Their sense of style clearly distinguished them, but Kerry endeared it so much. His own outfit was almost casual in comparison to V. He hadn’t put a lot of thought into styling his hair or accessories any differently than usual. He wore a button-down shirt, yes, but fully unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. It was plain black, like his pants, which were fancy for his standards but nothing too formal. He wanted to continue to feel like himself still, not like he was wearing a costume for an over-the-top video shoot or stadium show.

“Alright, all done,” V announced, his Kiroshis returned to their amber brown color with the transmission complete, and he turned towards Kerry and smiled.

“What?” he asked after a moment of Kerry just staring at him.

“Nothin’,” Kerry replied, “Just… really happy right now. That you’re comin’ and all.”

V continued to smile, but the longer and closer Kerry looked, the more he felt like something was off.

“You still wanna come, right?”

“I do!” V said without hesitation, cupping Kerry’s cheek briefly before slumping back into his seat again, “I guess I’m… really just a bit nervous. Excited, but nervous.”

“Aww,” Kerry put his arm around V’s shoulder to pull him closer, “Rare to see ya nervous. But don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“Hah, ‘n here I thought plan B was me playing your bodyguard, not the other way around,” V sneered and Kerry shut him up with a kiss.

“Not today.”

Their gaze drifted out the window, Charter Hill wasn’t far anymore. They zoomed past neon high-rises as if they had the sky to themselves tonight.

“Y’know,” Kerry said quietly, “I always really hated goin’ to these kinds of parties.”

“The king of NC’s nightlife? Not a fan of fancy all-inclusive parties?” V teased, resting his head on Kerry’s shoulder. Kerry held him even closer.

“Listen, goin’ to a club to get high and go hog wild is somethin’ different…”

“Don’t need to tell me about that,” V smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his voice. Reminded of a time probably in which “going hog wild” every night was the only way he still felt alive. Could feel something at all still. And if Kerry didn’t relate to that.

“What I’m sayin’ is,” he continued, “Going to industry parties was always different, ‘cause there’s no choice. Everyone’s expecting you to mingle, be nice and a good advertisement for the label. A reminder that all the glamor and crap is gonna be over with the snap of some executive asshole’s fingers if you don’t do exactly as you’re told, grin and bear it.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” V said, “Felt a lot like that when I went out with my coworkers at Arasaka. You played nice and all, had a good time with them, celebrated how you’d all collectively ruined some poor assholes’ lives again somewhere on the other side of the planet. And at the same time, it always felt like there were knives behind their teeth, ready to stab you in the back to elevate their own position. Not even excluding myself from that. It’s just how it works in that world.”

“Wow,” Kerry said after a short pause, “That sounds even more depressing actually.”

V snickered and nudged his side.

“Ass.”

“Corp-ass.”

“Wow, night only just started and you’re going below the belt already,” V finally laughed and that was all that Kerry had needed to be sure he was truly on board and not too tense to still be able to enjoy himself at the party. He more than deserved some proper downtime, they both did.

The AV slowed down, circling the rooftop of the MSM studio building, waiting for clearance to land. It had been sent and paid for by MSM, so security was no issue at least.

“The plus-side of these parties though…” Kerry said as they descended, and V was finally able to get a good first glimpse and impression of the already bustling event. This was also the first time he actually saw the bar area in use, a crowd forming around the bartenders flinging drinks and bottles. There was a round DJ booth with virtual dancers at the center of the rooftop, the dancefloor surrounding it. The door to the stairwell that led down to the recording booths was hidden behind decorative black and golden tarps showcasing the MSM logo, and on one side of the venue a huge screen had been set up, currently showing a loop of footage from Kerry’s past tours and old music videos. That at least made it very clear who the party was for.

“… the food is actually quite good, the booze is free, and you can be sure at least half of the people don’t wanna be there either and are ready to fuck shit up if given the chance.”

The AV landed softly, and the door slid open, V and Kerry greeted by blue and golden party lights and booming music. Kerry, who sat on the left and was closer to the door, got up first while V quickly slipped on his blazer.

“Wanna be my partner in crime tonight?” Kerry asked with a big smile, put on his sunglasses, and held out his hand.

“Always,” V grinned and took it, his heart close to bursting. They’d never been anywhere together like this, never this publicly, never so many strangers that might or might not draw conclusions, see connections, tell wrong things to the wrong people. Or maybe it would not matter or affect anything at all. That’s what he tried to continue to tell himself when he sat a shaky foot onto the black and gold carpet rolled out for them. The rooftop lounge wasn’t small, but not sprawling either, and so the landing pad was already framed by other guests curiously turning their heads. Kerry had explained that they’d likely be some of the last to arrive, so there would already be a crowd waiting to cheer and welcome them – or rather, Kerry – as the main act of the night. It was never a good sign, he'd said, to be among the first at an industry party. Then you’d be considered only part of the décor, replaceable.

V was torn between clutching Kerry’s hand even tighter or just letting go and hiding in his shadow as he led the way down the carpet towards the now cheering and applauding crowd. But Kerry made the choice for him as he held on tight, making sure he was right there by his side for everyone to see.

“Kerry, so glad to have you here,” and older, dark-skinned man – definitely not older than Kerry, but by his voice and mannerisms alone V guessed him to be in his 60s – approached them with an outstretched hand. He wore a crème and baby-blue colored suit and excessive gold jewelry – but so did almost everyone else here, too. Kerry put on his best, fakest charming smile and shook the man’s hand, and V could’ve sworn to hear their rings clink against each other over the droning music.

“Well, ‘course I’m comin’ to my own party,” Kerry said, “Really outdid yourself from the looks of it.”

A quick scan of the man’s system revealed him to be one of the infamous studio bosses V had heard so much about. “Rich” was his ironically fitting name, or Richard. Like he had guessed it he was 62 years old, twice divorced, newly engaged, in very good shape for his job and age. Most of his cyberware was only for fashion, including the golden plates framing his cheek bones and fingertips, but like almost everyone at MSM he sported custom Kiroshis with decent scanners. Probably some self-ICE and security measures, but V decided not to linger too long and dig too deep to not get caught.

“You’re one of the top five, no, top three most important artists of our label. Of course we’re gonna throw you an according party,” Rich said, “And if anything’s not to your liking, say the word.”

“Shouldn’t have said that,” Kerry grinned, “I’d like the chocolate fountains replaced with vodka and pure gold, as a start. The rest I gotta check out first.”

Both Rich and Kerry laughed, but V didn’t miss the challenging glimmer in Kerry’s eyes, as if to say “try me”. Rich smiled a bit too brightly, a bit too politely, hiding his disdain while still playing along because without artists like Kerry he surely wouldn’t be leading the life he did. V just smiled and watched the conversation with great intrigue. But then the attention shifted to him, which he would have preferred not to happen.

“Now, where’s my manners,” Rich said and held out his hand to V, “Richard Kelley, COO MSM Records.”

V smiled, took note of his own system’s warning of unauthorized scanning that his ICE caught and prevented, and shook Rich’s hand without hesitation.

“V. Thanks for the invitation,” he said.

“V…” Rich said, as he undoubtedly read through the fake dossier V had set up to be shown to anyone trying to scan him tonight, “Feel like that should ring a bell but it doesn’t, my apologies.”

“Just a nickname. Kerry thinks ‘Vincent’ is too long,” V said nonchalantly.

“It is,” Kerry chimed in, V not even sure if he played along consciously or not, “V suits ya better.”

Rich folded his hands behind his back, as if to hide his cards.

“I think I do remember you now,” he said smiling, after a short pause, “Kerry’s right hand in the Us Cracks project.”

“Could say it like that, yeah,” V lied through his teeth, “Been trying to set foot in the music industry for years. Worked my way up from being a roadie back in ’69. Lately I’ve been organizing smaller gigs here and there. Met Kerry through one of my many connections and we hit it off quite well I’d dare to say.”

“I see,” Rich smiled, surely smelling the bullshit, even though it was very close to the truth. But there was nothing he could truly say or do against it here and now without causing a scene, and V felt like he would want to avoid that while Kerry was right next to them both.

“Well then, don’t wanna keep you away from your party any longer. Enjoy.”

He stepped aside, Kerry nodded, put his arm around V and led him further into the crowd.

“The fuck just happened? Vincent?” he asked through his smile as they passed by studio workers and celebrities and their entourage. V snickered.

“Can’t tell you how much I’ve missed playing games with people like him,” he said, and really, for the first 20 minutes they spent at the party he continued to ride this wave of adrenaline. A type of rush he hadn’t had in a too long time, and which was only really achievable by moving in circles like this.

“Also,” he added, “I think it’s actually gonna help our plan that he already knows me now. Is gonna make it a bit easier for Lee to set everything up how we want to.”

“Ooohhh,” Kerry nodded, “Fuck... You’re so hot when you’re all scheming… and reading people like an open book and all that crap.”

V chuckled when Kerry pulled him closer, but simultaneously his anxiety spiked. They’d gone around to shake some more studio people’s hands, met some of Kerry’s friends, producers, and had now trailed off to the bar where Kerry ordered them drinks. Something strong and boozy for himself, just a NiCola for V. V had been trying to keep track of everyone they spoke to for a potential familiar face that would recognize him and his connections to the Afterlife. Nothing so far, and paparazzi were strictly banned from the event. By accepting the invite you signed an NDA, it was that exclusive of a night. But the nagging thoughts didn’t want to leave him alone, especially when Kerry’s hand trailed down his back towards his ass, when he leaned in to kiss V’s neck, beard brushing against exposed skin.

“Wait, not… here,” he said and inched away just slightly. Kerry paused, then moved his sunglasses down just enough to be able to peer over the frame, look at V without that security barrier between them.

“At the bar, or in general on this rooftop?”

“I… dunno.”

“Just tell me and I’ll stop,” Kerry promised, “I know you’re not big on PDA. But we’re safe here, really. Thought this would be okay…”

“I know. I…” V struggled to find the right words again, “Maybe I just need some time to warm up to it all still.”

Right on cue the bartender delivered their drinks. Kerry reached over to grab both their glasses, also to give V some space. He handed him the ice-cold coke decorated with a slice of what had to be a real lemon.

“They’re really going all out, huh,” V noted as he briefly inspected the fruit and Kerry laughed.

“If you wanna we can hit the buffet. I think even the sushi is ‘ganic by the looks of it.”

“Maybe later,” V said, taking a sip, and Kerry copied him with his martini.

“My usual suggestion would be ‘have a drink’ but that sadly doesn’t work with you,” he said, with an added, “No offense.”

“None taken,” V shook his head, “Besides, I’m pumped full of meds that shouldn’t be combined with alcohol anyway.”

“A shit, right…”

“Just… gimme a little more time, alright? I’m happy to be here, havin’ a good time. Sure it’ll get better from here.”

“Okay,” Kerry smiled, reached out and hooked his pinky finger around V’s, a tiny gesture that meant so much between them at this point. A way to connect when they were out in public, discreetly, a small reassurance of “I respect your boundaries” while also saying “glad you’re here with me”. The smallest “I love you”. It did indeed help calm V’s nerves a little bit.

Drinks in hand they continued to mingle with the crowd. Most of the time V just listened to the conversations, not minding at all to be merely embellishment to Kerry’s big night. In fact, his pride grew with every encounter. If only half of the praise Kerry received was true, Rich hadn’t been so off with calling him one of the top three of MSM’s most important artists. No way to compete against Us Cracks at the moment, obviously, but there was no need to. Though Kerry seemed glad that they were on their world tour still and somewhere in Japan at the moment. Or so he thought, at least.

At one point during the night the studio bosses gave a short speech in front of the large screen. As they indulged in the worst self-adulation V had ever heard outside of a Counterintel meeting room, Kerry whispered to him about how he’d known most of the label bosses since they were teenage brats throwing around their family’s money.

“Insane how little some things and people change,” Kerry muttered between his teeth, face so close to V’s that his breath brushed across his neck and made him shiver pleasantly. V smiled at him, and discreetly, as everyone’s eyes were glued at the screen and the bosses, took and squeezed his hand and leaned against him.

Then “Shivers” was played to the audience officially for the first time, and even though V had been there for most of its creation process, hearing the final, polished version in full length was still a special moment he was glad to be able to share with Kerry. The presentation was followed by more praise and the crowd eventually slowly dissolved again to continue partying.

Kerry led a few more conversations with other musicians and producers about the creation process of his song. He enjoyed the attention very obviously, glowing and eagerly answering any and all questions he was asked, even if often not overly detailed. V loved listening to his thought process of writing and recording the song to a young and new producer particularly though. Praise was nice and all, but talking to someone on a technical level was what Kerry was best at. All of a sudden though, in the middle of explaining something in regard to the BPM, he froze up. His eyes had darted to the AV landing pad and his words trailed off like a spilled drink when three colorfully dressed young women exited their cab.

“For fuck’s sake…” Kerry muttered, then he turned to V, “Let’s delta.”

“What?” V snickered, but Kerry took his hand, excused himself out of the conversation, and led him to the edge of the rooftop lounge. They were between a row of golden glowing fake bamboo lamps and the tarps hiding any unsightly parts of the building from the prestigious party guests. The Us Cracks girls had reached the center of the party area already and were swarmed by admirers in no time.

“Kerry, they left their tour just to be here for your big night,” V teased, but Kerry just sighed deeply, squirming and restless.

“I knooow,” he said, voice whiny, “And like… I’m cool with them ‘n all. I don’t mind them bein’ here, and it’s a big gesture and whatnot. It’s cool, they’re cool, we’re cool!”

“But?” V tilted his head.

Kerry sighed and made a face, looked away as if he was embarrassed.

“They’re fucking exhausting! There, I said it!” it then burst out of him, and he shrugged dramatically, “I don’t get half the references they’re making! Kerry-san this, Kerry-san that… All that fuckin’ kawaii-talk makes my dick shrivel up!”

V snorted.

“They make you feel old, huh?”

Kerry raised a finger in warning.

“Thin ice, Vince,” he said, not entirely serious. Then his shoulders slumped, and he sighed.

“But… yeah.”

“Awww,” V cupped Kerry’s face, stepped closer, quickly made sure no one was immediately nearby… then gave him a quick kiss.

“That make it better?”

Kerry pouted.

“Not yet.”

“Hmm,” V hummed, his heart beating faster now. He learned in again, lips lingering longer now, the slightest tease of tongue, and he noticed how Kerry melted into his touch a bit more this time.

“And now?” he whispered, looking Kerry in the eyes, their faces still close.

“Alright fine,” Kerry muttered, but V noted the slight curl at the corners of his mouth. For a moment he almost wondered if Kerry was the one playing him now, but he brushed the thought aside. Kerry sighed deeply, grabbed V’s hand for support once more, and V joined him to face the new arrivals to the party.

“Kerry-san!!” Blue Moon already squealed from afar, frantically waving in their direction, and Kerry groaned only loud enough for V to hear it.

The crowd cleared a path for the three pop idols as they scurried over, screeching and seemingly prepared to jump onto Kerry all at once, but just in time they slowed down and the tackle turned into a regular group hug.

“Wow, that’s a… real surprise!” Kerry exclaimed with badly feigned excitement, “You really didn’t need to come just for this one night.”

“But of course we had to!” Purple Force nodded excitedly.

“MSM organized a direct priority flight from and to Tokyo just so we could be here!” Red Menace added.

All three of them were dressed in the same style of latex-and-sequin cocktail dresses that seemed inspired by kimonos. They were decorated with enormous sparkling bows and virtual petals fell wherever the girls walked. Of course all color-coordinated in their usual red, purple, and blue, as if it was hard to tell them apart otherwise. V realized just how much pressure there had to be on them to always stay on brand like that, but at the same time, if they minded it, they were good at hiding it.

“V, OMG, you’re here too!” Blue Moon exclaimed as if she’d only just realized he was here with them, and a cold shiver ran down his spine. All night he’d been worried about someone attending the party that knew he did merc work. And here they were, squeezing him into a group hug.

“Hey, it’s great to see you again,” V said in Japanese, downplaying his newly onset bout of nervousness.

He elicited an excited squeal from the girls, and a lot of chattering and a very quick summary of all they’d been up to since their last in-person meeting.

“Oooohh, are you Kerry-san’s new bodyguard now?” Red Menace then asked as if realization struck her only now that this wasn’t V’s typical surroundings, too.

“Oooooohhh, no, wait!” Blue Moon interrupted her, mouth and eyes wide.

Before V or Kerry could even say anything, glancing back and forth between the two of them, she squealed.

“I’m so excited! Are you dating?”

The other two joined in with their cooing and noises of excitement and various onomatopoeia underlining just how excited they truly were, and even V started to feel old now.

“Alright, c’mon, dial it back,” Kerry urged them, but at the same time he smiled, a hint of pride in his voice.

“You are though! That makes me so happy!” Purple Force exclaimed, hands clutched, and Blue Moon leaned in closer to V.

“Back then, before ‘Off the Leash’, we saw how you two looked at each other. We’ve been rooting for you from the start!”

V wasn’t sure how to react to an out-of-the-blue statement like that.

“Oh, c’mon now…” Kerry groaned.

“We suggested Kerry pick his favorite venue for our concert, and we made sure that he’d invite you!” Red Menace said.

“And made sure the paparazzi would be occupied talking to us, so you’d have some time for yourselves,” Purple Force added, flicking her head as if to wink… just not being able to physically wink with her huge, bug-like Kiroshis.

“Is that so…” V said, side-eyeing Kerry, “He never mentioned that.”

“Awww, Kerry-san,” the girls said almost in unison as they went in for another group hug, this time targeting them both at once, “We’re so happy things turned out like this for you!”

Kerry though was more than happy when they finally, finally were called away by their manager to meet some other studio people, giving him and V some room to breathe again.

“I need another drink or ten,” he said, and V laughed, looking at his phone briefly. Before the girls left, he’d asked them for another selfie, all five of them together this time, and they obviously agreed. He sent it to Panam, not sure when she’d see it as contact was still somewhat sporadic. He attached a little “believe me now that I know them? :P”

Then he accompanied Kerry back to the bar.

“Did I get that right, what they said earlier?” he decided to ask, leaving no room for misunderstandings, “They wanted to set us up?”

Kerry scoffed and played with his glass, but then he took off his sunglasses and put them down on the counter. They stood facing each other, but both still had a good view of the crowd. The music was getting louder and heavier on the dance tunes as the night went on. More and more people gathered on the dancefloor surrounding the DJ.

“Maybe… Just maybe,” Kerry then said, “I had a little crush on you then. But apparently, they had to point it out to me first. Made me grow a pair to invite you and plan that whole date like that.”

“Aww,” V smiled, “You didn’t realize you had a crush? I was pretty sure I did, I just didn’t think I had a chance with you.”

Kerry finally looked up from his drink and grinned.

“I thought…” he started slowly, quietly, “You’d think I’m too old. And, y’know, all that emotional baggage and chaos my life was… and still is.”

He paused to look around at the crowd. So many people, most of them probably from similar and higher circles that V grew up in, and far far away from the small standing Kerry worked his way up from over decades. Surely, they all had their rich inner lives and demons to face as well, but V could see the disdain in Kerry’s eyes, still, even after being a part of this world for longer than he hadn’t been. He closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath and looked back at V.

“You were the realest, most genuine person I’d met in years, decades maybe,” he said, voice soft, “So yeah. Once I realized that, I fell hard, and fast. And fuck yeah, maybe I asked the girls for some advice here and there, ‘cause at least you’re all born in the same fuckin’ century.”

Then he downed his drink in one go and ordered the next right away.

V let this little confession sit for a couple of moments before taking Kerry’s hands and stepping closer.

“Thanks for sharing that with me,” he said quietly, “That’s actually pretty sweet.”

Kerry scoffed but smiled.

“Didn’t know you were concerned about me potentially thinking you’re too old,” he added, “If anything, I thought ‘what would he want with a dying 20-somethin-year-old’. Let alone with one possessed by the digital ghost of his dead ex-bandmate.”

Kerry chuckled.

“Would lie if I said that the Johnny-thing didn’t matter at first. In the sense that… Man, how do I say it without soundin’ like a complete gonkhead.”

He looked down to their interlaced fingers, gently rubbing V’s knuckles with his thumb.

“Try me. Nothin’ that can really shock me anymore,” V assured him. Kerry hummed.

“At first I thought, hell yeah, another chance with Johnny,” he began slowly, “Not even in the sense of like… y’know? Really just one last gig, for old time’s sake. Maybe finally get to tell him to go fuck himself for trying to keep me in his shadow like that. For all the shit he said, stealin my songs, my ideas, playin’ with me, shittin’ on me over and over again.”

Then he looked back up at V, pensive still.

“But then I realized… fuck Johnny, he doesn’t matter. ‘Cause there was you, shinin’ through the shadows of our past… and I wanted you so badly, but you only came as a package deal. And that sucked so hard.”

“Made you hesitate to make a move?” V asked, listening intently, not moving from where he stood. None of this was news to V, it had always been there in the subtext of their love story that Johnny was a deciding factor in how it would all work out or not.

“’Cause sure as hell made me hesitate as well. That he was there ‘n all,” he decided to add, and Kerry tilted his head slightly. Not sad, but nodding, understanding.

“’Outta all the guys in NC, you gotta pick my best friend’, day in day out,” V recounted, mocking Johnny’s voice and accent, “’At least he finally gets to fuck me now by fuckin’ you’ and crap like that.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Kerry sighed, “I can assure you, not fuckin’ once did I even waste a thought on him when we, like…”

“It’s okay,” V laughed, “Even if so, doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah… it really didn’t matter anymore,” Kerry reminisced again, smiling. He let go of V’s hand, fingers trailing up his arm, now cupping his cheek, caressing his jawline. V’s heart was racing, head spinning, but then he leaned into the soft touch.

“Not since you walked down the stairs by the stage at Dark Matter. Pushed your way through the crowd like none of them mattered either…” Kerry said, “And you stole me away. Made my old, half-dead heart, feel somethin’ again.”

V smiled, couldn’t really say anything at the sight of Kerry’s glistening eyes, the fine lines curling at their corners as he smiled, colorful lights dancing on, refracted from the gold on his cheeks and neck and chest.

“Love ya,” he just said quietly. It was all that he managed.

“Love ya, too, so much, V, I can’t tell you,” Kerry said, “Permission to fuckin’ kiss you now, in front of the whole damn label?”

V hesitated, but then nodded, and Kerry didn’t waste a millisecond to pull him into a heartfelt, passionate kiss. With every lick of his tongue, every nibble on his lips, a bit of V’s tension melted away, and he let himself fall into Kerry’s embrace, tasting the harshness of vodka mixed with smoke while his hands and caresses were so gentle against V’s skin.

Just slowly they pulled away from each other, and only far enough to catch their breath. V rested his hand on Kerry’s chest, fingers trailing along the golden, engraved plate decorating his sternum.

“So,” he slowly started, “Would you say I made your heart go ‘dokidoki’ when I walked down the stairs after your show back then?”

“Wow,” Kerry exclaimed with genuine disappointment, and V laughed, “Way to ruin a moment, V.”

He wasn’t truly upset though, just shook his head, and a whispered “fuckin’ gonk” was followed by another kiss.

The next song on the DJ’s tracklist let V toss the rest of his caution into the wind.

/My reflection/

/In this broken mirror/

/Is a program/

/In my head/

“Oh fuck yeah, they’re digging out the good stuff finally… no offense!” V laughed when Kerry frowned deeply.

“Yeah, just keep beating the old man down, go on! See what happens!”

“I’m sorry, babe, didn’t mean it like that,” V was still laughing, but Kerry also smiled when V took his hand and began pulling him towards the music, “Dance with me to make up for it?”

He didn’t have to ask Kerry twice and right when the first “Makes me feel better” echoed across the rooftops of Charter Hill they had become one with the glittering, glamorous crowd on the dance floor.

Not too close, but close enough so it was clear to everyone that they were here together, Kerry and V spent the rest of the DJ set dancing, letting go of anxiety and tension, until they were both thoroughly disheveled, sweaty, and out of breath. As the night progressed V was served reminder after reminder that his car accident wasn’t that far in the past, nor was the Crystal Palace gig for Blue Eyes. His ribs were hurting, and his elevated heartrate and exhaustion flushed his painkillers and other meds through his system much quicker than he would have liked. A short break was more than welcome. Kerry led him to a different corner of the lounge now, the familiar comfortable armchairs forming a cozy nook not too far off from the action of the night. They had a good view to the large video screen, this moment showing Kerry in his early 40s, still at the start of his solo career, running and jumping around on a large stadium stage.

“C’mere,” Kerry said laughing and out of breath as he pulled V down into one of the larger chairs, right onto his lap. They weren’t exactly alone, but everyone else in the lounge area was busy with their own conversations or amorous endeavors and paid them no mind.

“You good?” Kerry made sure when V slumped against his chest and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Yeah, really good,” V said, “But also really tired.”

Kerry kissed V’s forehead.

“If you wanna go home I’ll let them know and the AV’s ready in 5 minutes.”

V bit his lip.

“You gonna carry my over to the landing pad bridal style?”

Kerry snickered.

“I’ll do anything you wanna,” he purred.

“I’m listening…”

“Startin’ to think you’ve been sneakin’ some whiskey in that NiCola the whole evening,” Kerry teased but V laughed and shook his head. A distant throbbing at the base of his skull was another reminder to better take it slow for the rest of the night.

“No, I’m just… really glad I came. Didn’t realize how much I missed this. Haven’t really been out partying since…”

He had to really consider it for a moment.

“Probably since before Jackie died,” he realized and his stomach dropped, “Since then it was always just surviving, not living. Still is, most days, right now even, if you really think about it.”

Kerry hummed.

“Did I kill the mood?” V asked somewhat concerned and opened his eyes again.

“No, no, not at all,” Kerry assured him, watched him closely, “But I agree. Didn’t realize how much I missed this, too like… bein’ out partying with someone I care about, not just one of many people trying to numb themselves. It’s been a real good night. And I hope there’s many more to come.”

“For sure,” V smiled, trying to convince himself, heeding Fuentes’ words that even though it sounded unlikely, positive thinking had a measurable impact on the effectiveness of any healing process, blah, blah, blah… He decided to banish any thoughts of the Med Center or the Afterlife from his head for the rest of the night.

They just lingered in the lounge chair a bit longer, listening to the crowd and the music as the night around them grew colder, and occasionally Kerry reminisced, recalled an interesting anecdote about one of the scenes they had picked for the throwback reel still playing. V enjoyed resting in his arms now, so closely, their fingers interlocked, and barely flinched when someone looked in their direction or walked by. Kerry had grown quieter as the videos began to repeat, and instead they now watched the colorful crowd. Just moments before he almost suggested to leave, V spotted a familiar silvery head of hair among all the people and was instantly wide-awake again.

“Oh fuck,” he perked up, alerting an already half-dozed-off Kerry, “Is that Slavoj McAllister?”

Kerry followed his gaze.

“Yeah, looks like it!” he confirmed calmly, “Been wondering if he’s even here, the Duelists are on tour as well.”

V didn’t respond, just stared at McAllister, dressed in an ensemble of dark blue leather and white faux-fur, and also sporting his iconic, extra-large silver sunglasses of course.

“Want me to call him over?” Kerry asked, and V turned to look at him, not missing the teasing tone in his voice.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, playing it a little too cool after his first excitement, “I���m just. It’s neat that he’s here, is all.”

“You’re fucking star-struck, ain’t ya,” Kerry shook his head, “You weren’t nearly half as flustered when I stood in front of you in just my bathrobe, patting your cheek.”

“Oh, shut up,” V muttered but didn’t exactly make it any better this way. Kerry knew exactly that V had had a huge crush on McAllister when he was a teen, room plastered with posters of the Cartesian Duelists. And he was also more than happy to express his disdain about how his “rival’s” (they were friends, actually) music was played in their home more often than his own whenever he had the chance.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce ya. Never gonna get a chance like this again anytime soon,” Kerry said and wiggled free from under V, who continued to protest.

“No, Kerry, wait! I don’t wanna fuckin’… he’s here to party, not to entertain fans.”

“Technically he’s here to stroke my ego, so I stroke his next time he releases a new song,” Kerry brushed him off and finally managed to get up from the chair, already began to walk into McAllister’s direction, “He won’t mind.”

“Oh fuck…” V panicked but in the end Kerry was right. No time like the present.

He got up and followed with some distance.

“Heeeey, Mr. Makes-Me-Feel-Better!” Kerry called loudly to get the other musician’s attention, and V cringed just slightly.

“Aaahh, Mr. Shivers, been wondering where you’ve been hidin’ all evening,” McAllister said with his simultaneously raspy yet ethereal voice. V’s head started spinning aagin when he watched them shake hands and give each other a brief hug and pat on the back.

“Great work with that song, Kerry, gotta give ya that,” McAllister said, “The bassline leading up to the chorus? Preem detail, your idea?”

“Fuckin’ course,” Kerry nodded.

“Thought so, thought so. Vikki was probably all like ‘hm, not sure that’s gonna work darlin’, how ‘bout we keep it a bit simpler for the brainless masses payin’ our bills?’”

V was impressed how well he imitated the producer’s voice and demeanor; he was actually quite mesmerized by seeing his idol talk so casually in general. He’d been to many concerts, obviously knew all the music videos, interviews and whatnot. But a celebrity in a casual conversation with a friend was rare and uncanny, this up close and in real life, not with the barrier of a screen or braindance wreath between them.

“All that aside, I’d like to introduce ya to someone,” Kerry said and turned to V, who only just managed to not freeze up completely. He took a deep breath and swallowed down his anxiety.

“This is V,” Kerry said and with gentle force pulled V closer, “V, Slavoj McAllister.”

In person he seemed even taller than V knew he was. Briefly he only admired his outfit, some sort of one-piece body suit with a matching coat. For sure a Jinguji custom design going by the intricate seams and many sleek little details and interesting textures that accentuated the singer’s body, a half-opened zipper exposing his large chest tattoo and neck cyberware.

“Nice to meet ya, V,” McAllister said and held out his hand. This was the exact moment 16-year-old V would’ve had tragically passed away. 28-year-old V though actually managed to keep it together and took McAllister’s hand.

“Likewise! An honor, really, I’m a big fan,” he said, trying to downplay his excitement just somewhat.

“Aahh, preem,” McAllister said, “Haven’t got anything to sign with me, but just say the word, Kerry and I gotta spend a lil’ more time together anyway.”

“Do we now? What did I miss?”

“Dunno, just a feelin,” McAllister shrugged, “Feel like we could create somethin’ preem together – ain’t it weirder that we haven’t done somethin’ together yet?”

V’s thoughts trailed off in all sorts of directions at “doing something together”, but none of them had anything to do with making music anymore.

“Maybe that’s how I get him to play more of my music at home,” Kerry said, pulling V’s thoughts out of his fantasies, “Slap a ‘feat. Slavoj McAllister’ onto them.”

“I mean…” V said slowly, “I think it could work.”

There was a brief pause in which McAllister looked at them both intensely – at least V guessed he did, as he couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses. Then he put two and two together.

“Aaahhh… You’re dating? Nova, happy for ya,” he just nodded, as if the whole conversation wasn’t surreal enough already, “Y’know, I’m still enjoyin’ my freedom, unbound and just vibin’, makin’ music. It’s the best damn thing.”

“Yeah, really can be,” Kerry nodded, “Happy for ya, too choom. Keep rockin’.”

“You, too. Excited already to hear the rest of the album,” McAllister said and shook Kerry’s hand again. Then he turned to V.

“V, got a favorite Duelists song?”

V was this close to asking Kerry to pinch him.

“Hard to choose just one, but with a gun to my head… gotta say ‘Kill the Messenger’.”

McAllister motioned a finger gun with his right hand at V and fired it, before shifting and just holding it out normally for a handshake. V was utterly mesmerized and hoped he wasn’t staring with his mouth open. He wouldn’t notice it anymore at this point.

“Preem, noted. One of my personal faves, too. Your boy’s got taste Kerry, just sayin’,” and with that he shook V’s hand.

“Oh, I know. That’s why he’s mine.”

McAllister laughed, nodded at them, then slowly trailed off, floated away almost, and let his gaze wander across the crowd as if he truly cared for none of them and his job here was done.

“I think I just had a fuckin’ stroke,” V said, still holding out his hand that McAllister shook, and Kerry laughed.

“C’mon, think it’s time to get you home and to bed.”

“Good plan,” V sighed and rubbed his tired eyes.

About an hour later they were finally home. They’d said goodbye to the Us Cracks girls, then Lee ran into them to almost ruin an otherwise perfect evening, but thankfully the encounter was brief.

V downed his nightly dose of meds, then plopped down onto their bed, face-first, and let out the longest, happiest sigh he was still capable of.

Kerry laughed and joined him, and V shuffled to look at him, even though he could barely keep his eyes open anymore. He reached over, ran his fingers through Kerry’s beard, the moonlight reflecting from the many little grey hairs particularly beautifully this moment.

“My pretty old man,” he said quietly and Kerry chuckled and put his hand on V’s, not to stop him, just touching, connecting with him. Then they just laid like this for a while, gently caressing and touching, but for more they were both too exhausted. But just this was just as nice.

“Thanks for convincing me to come,” V eventually whispered, when he felt like he was just about to drift to sleep.

“Thanks for letting me convince you,” Kerry smiled, “Should do that more often.”

“Yeah, I know… Will do.”

Then his eyes fell shut, and he could still feel the beat of the music, the rush and the joy. He dozed off to visions and memories of dancing and laughing with Kerry that he’d hold dear and cherish for the rest of his life.

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

>> Next Chapter

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

Notes:

This was a long one but such a fun one I had also really been looking forward to writing \o/ I hope you had fun at the fancy MSM party, too. Originally the plan was to include a spicy scene as well, but that may have to wait for the next chapter 👀 otherwise I'd have probably cracked the 10,000 words mark xD

Also, thanks so much you all for reading this story and sticking around for over a year now as I keep writing and updating it at my own little pace! I hope this time next year it's gonna be finished or close to it :D Vince and Kerry mean so much to me by now, and I never stuck with a longfic, well, this long. Excited to continue and finish this!

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[plazmafields]

Oh boy you better get your asses ready because I just beat the game again on 2.1+ and I think it actually has interesting implications for Kerry’s romance. SPOILERS FOR THE SUN ENDING SPECIFICALLY!

Like many other players, I got the Sun ending the first time I played, and (other than when I’m roleplaying a new type of character) it’s the ending I always go for and consider canon for my main oc Vesper. Over on the subreddit(s), people seem to view this ending as definitely 100% implying that V finds a cure and lives to see old age. While of course I would love my character to live a long and happy life, I don’t think that’s the case. V free floats off into space toward a several trillion dollar heavily guarded spacecraft filled with the most elite of the elite. That job was a suicide mission, and I interpreted this ending as V going out with a bang so they could finally, actually become a real Night City legend.

I believe Kerry knows this. When he calls you during the credits, Kerry asks you in a casual tone to buy some olives on your way back, then his voice gets soft and he goes, “Actually, you know what, forget it. I’ll buy them myself.” He does this backtracking in conversation several times during his romance, and I always read it as him being uncomfortable talking about his feelings. He stops himself from apologizing to V during A Like Supreme: Kerry gives V the gun he tried to shoot Johnny with, V reminding him that he was actually aiming the gun at V’s head. Kerry says “yeah…” in an apologetic tone and then starts saying “And earlier when–” then stops himself and says “nevermind.” Kerry also does this during Boat Drinks. He starts by saying “You shake things up, V. Make me feel…” trails off for a second, then stutters before saying “uh, I mean.” It sounds like he has a habit of stopping himself when he starts to feel he’s being too vulnerable.

Now, during the Sun epilogue, Kerry doesn’t hesitate when he tell’s V “I don’t want to lose you.” This would normally be a very vulnerable thing to say, and Kerry’s shown that he always backtracks in moments such as these. He even goes so far as to repeat it and make direct eye contact as he says it again. This makes it seem like maybe he’s done some emotional growing and is now more comfortable talking about his feelings, specifically with V. So, if that were the case, why does he restart the habit of backtracking in the credits call? He doesn’t backtrack during the emotional part, when he tells V he wants them to spend more time together and try to be less busy for one another. He only corrects himself when he talks about V coming back. Because he knows V isn't coming back. Even before that, right before V gets on the flying Delamain to head to the Afterlife, he says “Take care of yourself.” to Kerry, which feels very final, like he doesn’t think he’ll see Kerry again.

With all the other romances, saying goodbye in the mansion makes perfect sense. Panam is leaving with the Aldecaldos, Judy is leaving Night City for good, and River expresses that he feels their relationship doesn't feel equal. The conversation V has with Kerry feels very much like any of their other conversations throughout the game: Kerry talks about his stuff, then once he’s gotten it out of his system, asks how V is doing. But with some notable, very subtle changes.

Kerry is always excited to talk about himself, and rarely asks much about V unless he’s making sure V isn’t already dead. The text that actually sparked me wanting to put these thoughts to paper is the one where Kerry takes a personality quiz and it labels him as a narcissist. He’s self absorbed, sure, but he doesn't have the psychiatric disorder Narcissism as far as I’m convinced. Whichever reply you send, his responses are pretty funny. However, getting that text reminded me that the first time I played Cyberpunk I really wasn’t all that into Kerry as a character, and definitely not as a romance option.

So, the conversation you have in V’s mansion in the Sun ending is actually much more V focused than previous interactions with Kerry. When Kerry asks if you’re alright, even if you say everything’s fine, he still insists that he’s there for V and willing to talk, cuddle, fuck, whatever V needs. This is in stark contrast to when you call Kerry on the rooftop before picking your ending. During that call, he definitely notices something is off with V and asks if he’s ok, but doesn’t press any further when V says he’s fine. His dialog in the Sun ending is strangely caring for Kerry, who otherwise always seemed like V was more of a convenient side-piece with whom he shared a mutual friend. Obviously, as I’ve played the game more and considered Kerry’s quests and dialog options from different angles, I really like him as a character and see much more of his depth than I did on my first playthrough.

Now here’s why playing the game on version 2.1+ is important: 2.1 added dates with your romance options to the game (the “I really want to stay at your house” repeatable quest). If you were to consider the new texts, dialog, and gift responses from the perspective of any of the other endings, Kerry’s replies sound somewhat out of character. The phrasing, the word choice, the tone is all Kerry, but the sentiment is decidedly not so. “I really like you, V. Thought I should remind you.” after the first time he goes over to V’s. His response to getting the flowers or car, he’s almost too complimentary; I feel like Kerry would mention everything wrong with the gift first, then admit that he actually likes it, but still find a way to show his appreciation without saying the words “thank you, V.”

However, if you put everything added in 2.1 into the context of the Sun ending, it starts to feel like Kerry is growing as a person. That’s what his whole quest string was about, sure, but you don’t see him put any of those personal changes into practice after Boat Drinks (mostly because all the romance options just stop leaving their houses once you reach the end of their questlines). So the sweet, appreciative texts after dates and gifts, leading into the way he’s much more focused on V and their relationship during the Sun ending, It actually feels like a natural growth for his character. It’s like the dates, the gifts, the cute little replies, are all the beginning stages of him becoming a much more attentive partner in the Sun ending. Kerry even says himself, before V gets on the Delamain, that their relationship has changed his outlook on life and helped him reprioritize things. The 2.1 additions actually make it feel like we watched that journey begin for him, instead of it just being told to us after a time skip.

[sokumotanaka]

@alwaysbringaphoenixdown

I can tell you exactly why it's gotten worse. (I'm putting it in a separate post as not to clog up your great post)

Well that's a great one, Static and Teen titans had POC help writing their stories, with Static shock being the brainchild of a black man and a LEGEND in writing and storytelling Dwayne Mccduffie, who deeply understood the struggles with racism, gun control, drugs and so on. Same for teen titans.

That being said you should consume more media with Black/brown and LGBT people at the helm in the writing rooms. Kipo age of the wonderbeast, Moon-girl and devil dinosaur, The owl house, Steven universe, Craig of the creek, Invincible and even in video game form Metaphor Refantazio. Could we use more? Of course! However this is what happens when POC get to be in the writing rooms

Well I don't know about Star forces- the only thing I know about that is the magical creatures die I think? Like the all horribly melt.

RWBY on the other hand and Miraculous are mostly white led stories with only white writers. And both RWBY's and Miraculous writers are horribly racist. Miles and kerry wrote a dogshit subplot blaming the minorities and then when people questioned them, they shrugged it off as "tee hee we're white we don't know." not to mention RT running out their one black employee with constant racism and miles trying to appease people by putting BLM on his twitter till the heat died down. And Miraculous made a comic where the protagonist was fearful of black people for...no reason.

It's what happens when you have zero black/brown people in your workforce that don't have input on anything.

Ah yes the scene where the martian girl tells the half human half atlantian that he wouldn't get it, in terms of racism.

You're completely right here, I will argue that at least they attempted to talk about it instead of pretending it doesn't exist because it makes them uncomfy.

Yeah, sometimes that's all you need to further your point, especially in one of the most racist time periods, I can't explore a character without hearing someone say they're boring or ''woke'' or we see the "white Preston garvy / white Wyll Ravengard" mods.

As I mentioned earlier this is what happens when you have media where the characters are 99% white and male and you don't see many poc especially dark skinned ones. Or when you take learning about Martin Luther king Jr out of schools cause it's "Forcing it on children"

I'm frankly all for racist getting owned for being prejudice, it's the least they deserve.

It is cause that's too woke nowadays! But yeah this is why we need to get more black and brown people hired- sadly the best they get to do is write a book that goes straight to barns and noble. This is why we need to fund more POC writers to make original media, Games, TV shows, Animated or otherwise just diverse media in general- we went backwards because more racist worms got too bold, the pandemic fucked over alot of people's pea brains and made them too loud and too stupid.

I don't have the prefect fix, but support POC products, get people to watch Moongirl as much as they watch something like My adventures with superman and so on.

[rabidlittlestrawberry]

KELLY

what song should I listen to while reading your fic

Ooooh which fic?

I’ve basically named most of them after the song that inspired (at least some) of the plot!

So ‘I’ll know it’s you’ is ‘We’re in love’ by boygenius

And Suburban legends is suburban legends by Taylor Swift (this is VERY much the vibe of the first chapter and actually all of lily’s chapters in the future)

I actually have playlists for my fics! I don’t think I’ve ever said that but here’s my Spotify they’ll be on there

[thatonebirdwrites]

Some behind the scenes thoughts about the narrative structure and names in my story, Shattered:

To use eventually in my story, Shattered, I drew Rory -- Lena's 7 year-old child alter, who speaks only in sign language. I made this decision partly due to my own experiences, but also because in the show Lena has a lot of neurodiverse traits.

Rory is a pretty common Irish name, and Katie has said in an interview that is her younger brother's name (it's also listed as her brother's name in every article I could find about her family). The traditional way of spelling would be with an 'i' instead of a 'y,' but based on the research I did, it seems Katie uses the 'y' spelling. It's the angelized form of the name Ruaidhrí, which means "red king" in Old Irish. Her other alters all have Irish names or descriptive terms (at least until the Alter reveals their name). I did this on purpose because I love Irish names, and I'm very much pro-Irish!Lena.

For example, Kieran, the protective alter and the one that revealed herself to Lena in journal entries so Lena wouldn't feel alone or scared, is Lena Luthor's canon middle name. This is an angelized form of Ciarán, which in turn is derived from the Irish Gaelic word for 'black.' In Irish legend, Ciar was a son of Fergus mac Róich and Medb; he became the ancestor of the tribe of the Ciarraige (after whom County Kerry is named). Seán is Katie's older brother's name, and that one is a variant of John. To go back further, John is derived from Old Hebrew words such as Chanan which means 'to be gracious, to have mercy, to show favor.' Whether this name is used in my fic is for readers to find out. ;) Some other names I may utilize:

Lorcán which derives from Old Irish word lorcc for fierce.

Líadan, which derives from Old Irish for 'grey.' (Legends tell of a poet who missed her lover Cuirithir so much she died of grief.)

Neasa or Níassa, which derives from Old Irish for 'uncertain' or 'not-gentle'. (Legend has it, she was the mother of Conchobhar, and she tricks her second husband into giving up his kingdom to her son to rule temporarily for a year. She then helped him rule so astutely that the people demanded he be their permanent ruler.)

I debated on using too many 'L' names mostly because Lena in my tale -- due to her trauma -- has chosen to pit herself opposite of the Luthor family. So choosing "L" names would play too much into going with them instead of against. Part of her development is building herself up so that her actions become less about being opposite, and more about doing the right thing because it's the right thing to do.

Naming alters can be helpful to identify who fronts, but also to build up trust and safety with them. Alters will often have a name for themselves, which should be honored if so.

I'll likely draw all the alters at some point. The one above is based off a photo of Katie sitting like this by a Christmas tree.

I wrote Lena with DID because of how she slips in and out of personas to fit specific situations and her goals in that situation.

She has tremendous trauma, tends to compartmentalize into boxes, and so her having dissociation of some sort seemed highly probable especially based on some of her behaviors in the show.

She shows her trauma right from the beginning with specific things she says that reveal just how wounded she is by her past and the Luthor family. I extrapolated from that.

This is a very personal fic that touches upon things I experience as well, and I wanted to write a fic that is a positive representation for DID. I poured my soul into this fic. After a lot of soul-searching, unleashed it onto AO3 because if it helped me to write it, maybe it'll help others to read it.

The fic as a whole is written in draft form, but I edit and rewrite sections so it all flows well before I post the chapter.

I play with the narrative a lot in this fic.

The narrative is made of three POVs: 1. Lena and her alters, 2. Kara (and her other selves), 3. Sam.

I weave each POV with the present day conflict and a "Tale" that is a look into their backstory and how that ripples forward into the present. I admit, I hyper-focus on details for not only immersion sake, but also to lay out clues. Sometimes I'll play with how I lay out a chapter to emphasize a theme.

For example, in chapter seven, take a look at the last two sentences of the POV, and note how words for that sentence will appear at the starting sentence of the following POV. I'm using a ghazal-like tactic common to Arabic poetry to weave threads of a tale; I did this because I wanted to juxtaposition Sam's experience with Reign with Lena and her alters.

So there's details like that hidden in this narrative. The poetic language I draw upon for some segments is endemic of how I portray mind-stuff in all my writings (see my excerpt of my original fiction here for an example). I like how poetic language gives a scene a more surreal feel, which can be helpful for digging into trauma in a less triggering way.

Anyway, the narrative structure I use for this tale is a bit of an experiment, I admit.

One might even say it's a superhero/trauma version of Chancer's Canterbury tales, if the storytellers were just three people on a journey of healing together.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the behind the scenes peek.

[broadwaydivastournament]

Broadway Divas Tournament: Round 1C

Kerry O'Malley (1969) starred as The Baker's Wife in the 2002 revival of Into the Woods, which, y'know, tough act to follow. One of our few LA-based actresses, she's starred in just about every early-2000s touring production of White Christmas you can think of. Other credits include Annie Get Your Gun, On a Clear Day You Can See Forever (2011), and Showstoppers in Vegas where I first saw and fell in love with her. Her big thing is dying on stage and screen because I think I must've watched this woman kick the bucket at least eight times. She does it really well.

THE Baker's Wife, Joanna Gleason (1950) is a Tony-winning legend who set a standard that has yet to even be approached. Her Baker's Wife in the original Into the Woods beat out Patti's Reno Sweeney, and Patti is still a little pissed off about it. She was also in infamous flop Nick & Nora (1991), Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (2005), and I Love My WIfe (1977). Nowadays, she devotes her focus to directing and screenwriting and her film The Grotto won Best Narrative Premiere at the Heartland Film Festival.

PROPAGANDA AND MEDIA UNDER CUT: ALL POLLS HERE

"Okay, so the only reason Kerry's on this tournament is because I saw her in a Vegas show when I was a teenager and fell in love from the first note she sang. I am fully expecting her to get brutally murdered by Joanna Gleason, but she's finally getting her dues in film these days. Her ten minutes in The Killer were the only ten minutes worth watching. I was riveted. I also got to see her perform "Moments in the Woods" live at 54 Below a few years ago and she's just as pretty and sweet as I remembered. Her friend was sitting at my table, so I was able to introduce myself. I, uh, did not mention how I'd been distantly in love with her for the last decade or so..."

"Joanna Gleason, my beloved. Look, I've loved her for a while, but a few years ago I went down a deep rabbit hole watching her play Password Plus with Betty White, and I have not been the same since. I am deeply affected by smart, sardonic, eloquent women, and Joanna is on another level of brilliant. She broke a record on that show. You need to watch and marvel. Furthermore, full offense to everyone else, but Joanna is the only one who doesn't opt up at the end of "Moments in the Woods," and that is the correct way to sing it. I hate the opt up. Fuck your opt up. Joanna plays the Baker's Wife with a razor-sharp wit none of the others can match. Their Baker's Wife's are smart, and determined, but they don't have her droll swagger. Her line readings? Unmatched."

[denimbex1986]

'Cillian Murphy had just spent the day filming what felt like 30 scenes on “Oppenheimer” with the desert sand kicking up and blasting into his eyes when his co-star Robert Downey Jr. greeted him, trying to boost his spirits. And — this is how Downey remembers it, and when the legend becomes fact, print the legend — Murphy launched into a lament about how, when he had returned to his “18-dollar-a-night hotel room” the previous evening, he found his bags in the hallway and thought, “F—! I haven’t checked out yet. I have to sleep!”

“Every indignity that could befall someone who’s trying to do something .... It was like the tears of Job,” Downey related after a recent screening of the Christopher Nolan blockbuster. “Forget the call sheet and the job. It was everything else. It was the most Irish experience I’ve ever witnessed.”

Nearly two years later, Murphy and I are talking on a late-autumn day in L.A. He’s removing his coat and pulling his chair into the sun because, yes, he’s Irish, and part of the Irish experience is to soak up as much sun as possible when the opportunity presents itself. As to what Downey is ascribing to his native land, Murphy can do nothing but laugh.

“I don’t know if that means that Irish people are more predisposed to suffering,” Murphy says, smiling. “I think he’s being very sweet and saying we were like a troupe, moving at quite a pace. We were just staying at motels by the freeway and moving around. It was not glamorous. The way Chris works is that everything is equitable. No one has trailers or personal makeup. Everyone gets in a bus. It feels like independent filmmaking, but on a f—ing grand scale. And that’s the way I enjoy working.”

Murphy, 47, also enjoys not working, and he’s had a successful enough career in the two decades since his film breakthrough in Danny Boyle’s 2002 classic zombie film “28 Days Later” that he can describe such periods as being “happily unemployed.” That was where he was at a couple of years ago. He’d finished shooting the sixth (and final) season of the entertaining BBC crime drama “Peaky Blinders” and was in the midst of a glorious six months enjoying the company of his wife, Irish visual artist Yvonne McGuinness, and their two teenage sons. Then Nolan called out of the blue.

Actually, it wasn’t Nolan, but his wife and producing partner, Emma Thomas. It couldn’t be Nolan, because Nolan doesn’t have a phone, an eccentricity that’s either endearing or infuriating depending on the context. Thomas handed the phone to her husband, who told Murphy — in what the actor calls an “unbelievably understated British way” — “I’m making a film about Oppenheimer.” Pause. “I’d like you to play Oppenheimer.”

And just like that, Murphy was no longer happily unemployed. He was playing the title character in Nolan’s sprawling drama about the physicist known as the “father of the atomic bomb.”

“A big moment,” Murphy calls it, no stranger to restraint himself. Pause. “A biggie.”

In conversation, Murphy is pleasant and reflective when talking about his native country (he could and should write a book on the Ring of Kerry or at least narrate a self-guided tour) and the arts. I’d read that Nolan sent him photos of David Bowie wearing high-waisted, voluminous trousers from the singer’s Thin White Duke era as a visual reference for the gaunt silhouette he imagined for Oppenheimer, a man who possessed such a manic work ethic that he forgot to eat, subsisting on martinis and Chesterfield cigarettes. I pull up a photo of Bowie taken shortly before his death, wearing a sharp suit, black fedora and beaming smile.

“He looks a little alien, which is what we were going for with Oppenheimer, I think,” Murphy says. He holds onto my phone, looking at Bowie. “One of the greats. That last album [“Blackstar”] was f—ing extraordinary. What a gift to leave us with. Nobody else could have gone out like that.”

Murphy’s most striking feature — his piercing blue eyes — have been noted at length, for good reason. “Oppenheimer” co-star Matt Damon notes how he’d find himself distracted working with Murphy. “It’s a real problem when you’re doing scene work with Cillian [because] sometimes you find yourself just swimming in his eyes,” he told People.

Those eyes are what first attracted Nolan to him. The filmmaker was leafing through a newspaper while writing “Batman Begins” and came across a photo of Murphy from “28 Days Later.” He couldn’t shake the image of this actor with a shaved head and “crazy eyes” and made a note to meet with Murphy for Batman, a role that eventually went to Christian Bale.

They’ve now made six movies together, with Murphy playing the menacing Scarecrow in the “Dark Knight” trilogy, a petulant business heir in “Inception” and a character known simply — and quite accurately — as “Shivering Soldier” in “Dunkirk.” They share a mutual interest in conveying a character’s emotional conflict through close-ups that linger on an actor’s face and allow the audience to feel inner turmoil. In Oppenheimer’s case, it was the searing anguish of a man a bit late to realize and appreciate the consequences of what he’d created.

“To me, great screen acting is all about ‘show, don’t tell,’” Murphy says, “and being able to transmit emotion and energy just by force or presence or charisma.”

I ask him about influences in that regard, but Murphy demurs, saying that if he starts listing actors, he’ll wake up in the middle of the night, thinking, “F—, I left that person out.” He reiterates that his favorite movie moments aren’t big set pieces but watching actors in reflection, inactive, doing nothing, but revealing everything. “I find that compelling in the highest order,” he says.

Murphy had ample opportunity to do just that in “Oppenheimer,” portraying a character caught in a moral dilemma of his own making.

“I knew it would have to be a quiet, small performance, because the themes are f—ing huge,” Murphy says. “What’s happening inside his heart and his mind can’t be painted big, particularly when it’s captured on an Imax camera and it’s going to be shown on a f—ing 80-foot screen. I knew it would have to be delicate and tiny, most of it.”

Murphy doesn’t like to dwell on what he did once call the “monastic experience” of the film’s 57-day shoot or on the months it took to decompress afterward. Such talk would be a little too close to the “Irish experience” Downey had mentioned. But all of these efforts did make me think about something that Emily Blunt, who plays Oppenheimer’s wife, Kitty, in the film and worked with Murphy in “A Quiet Place Part II,” noted about him.

“She said that off set, you’re a hoot,” I tell him, fishing for an example or two. Murphy does not oblige, but he does express how his friendship with Blunt created a trust that informed their portrayal of lifelong partners.

“She’s also one of the funniest people, and I have a rule that I can’t work unless there’s a lightness around the set,” Murphy says. “There has to be some levity. A lot of the films I do are quite heavy and go to some dark, challenging places, and you have to be relaxed to do that. So I don’t walk around in a state of f—ing angst. I need to feel at ease. I can’t be in that dark place all the time. I don’t have the stamina for it.”

Murphy saw “Oppenheimer” at the film’s July world premiere in Paris. Two days later, he and the rest of the cast left the London premiere to show their support for the impending SAG-AFTRA strike. By the time he returned home to Dublin, his wife and sons had already seen “Barbie,” so Murphy went to the cinema by himself to complete the “Barbenheimer” experience.

How do you go incognito to the multiplex, I ask.

“I time going to movies very well now,” Murphy says. “With the ads and trailers, I always arrive a half hour late, slip in and then slip out.”

I grouse how that half hour feels like it’s getting longer by the year. Murphy agrees. And yet ...

“The greatest democratic collective art form is sitting in a darkened space with strangers,” he says. “To be part of a movie that people went to see multiple times and part of a great moment for cinema, that frenzy for those two films, was just lovely. I don’t know if we’ll ever see it again, but I’d like to hope so.”

[bringmefoxgloves]

i want to get more into saw/saw blogs b4 X comes out - what r some of ur fave saw blogs

Hi! You caught me at a good time (one where I have energy) so let's see if I can pump this out. I am in no way an authority on the entire Saw fandom so I will only be talking about my little corner of the internet. Please forgive me, my beloved followers, mutuals, and other owners of posts I have loved in this very small fandom-because I may forget some of you. The brain fog sometimes gets the best of me and if I did a full complete list, it would be.... It would be so long. This is in no way in order of best or worst, and sometimes I just have no words for why I love a person's blog.

@turnipoddity - Oh, what an artist! Every single post I see, love it. So excited to see an artist acquiring the Saw brainrot.

@bloodcoveredgf - Luna! Also just all around funny & good posts in addition to the Saw insanities.

@dracofelin - Jay has such good writing, and will make you love the ship of Mark Hoffman/Peter Strahm (coffinshipping).

@thefoulbeast - Simply put, Will's art makes me want to bite my own arm off. If you're interested in the video game Pathologic, his blog is worth a follow for that too.

@bathroomtrapped - I sometimes get the honor of previewing Larry's art mid-construction (because with all those colors and layers, it looks like building a house) and even half finished, it blows my socks off <3

@sawtrapz - Kaz, oh Kaz (!!!), Kaz gets my brain clicking about some of the rarepairs of this fandom and I will always spin your boygirl Adam in my head.

@cl0wnb0yyy - Will is just a great person in the fandom, also if you like Midnight Mass or NBC's Hannibal.

@ispyspookymansion - Kora looms large in the Saw fandom in my mind so it would be impossible to assemble this list without him.

@3razyswfangirl / @kiramillet - Kira's pixel art is amazing!!! Bunny <3

@tibby - Take a look through Tibby's saw meta. You won't be disappointed.

@allegedly-writer - Contrary to Jack's url, Jack can sure damn write! He just posted a fic and guess who it's for <3

@hansy-pansy-art - OUGH another amazing amazing artist. Also currently in a Red Dead Redemption moment, which I love.

@piddgeon - Speaking of RDR.... Mercury! Ah, just. (Chef's kiss) of a human being.

@samwis - Jami, who hears all my most insane horny thoughts who is such a mainstay in my corner of Saw fandom.

@romanromulus - Adam writes fics that will make you scream and cry into your pillow at midnight.

@tapeworrmart - Just. Ough. Art that I dream of one day hanging on my wall.

@vanilladella - a.m.'s art is my discord header. Enough said.

@carouselcometh - Remy is hilarious and also you need to read his series on Ao3.

@onehandkilling / @fatmasc - Shlomo... What do I say? Just go. Follow. Also threw in their fat fashion blog because YES!!!

@angel-trapped - Téa, you absolute legend. Origin of angelshipping (to me) (aka Lindsey Perez/Allison Kerry)

@sawtrapx - Liv, such a fun human being!!!

@starlightsailfish - Star's Saw Warrior Cats makes me dance in excitement.

@iinsawdious - Adrien is the best champion of the Adam & David (Saw 0.5) & Specs (Character from the Insidious franchise, also played by Leigh Whannell) are family hc. I love his enthusiasm!!

@adrianicsea - Adrian! Just. AH!!! Adrian's Sleeping with Ghosts series was perhaps my first introduction (outside of Adam romanromulus) to the sheer brilliance of Saw fandom writers.

@dodddraws - Dodd's art is.... I'm just at a loss for words, scrolling back through his blog. So much nsfw goodness.

@sawvhs - Rar's art is so so so iconic.

Okay I have to cut this list off here, jfc. There's others I should probably put on here but I'm getting tired and sweaty and my hands are hurting. Follow these people, check who they're reblogging from or who is reblogging them, go forth, prosper anon. Welcome to the Saw brainrot.

[shortkingromanroy]

marcia caroline THEE sally anne and my girl kerri ……… legends only