serenpedac

[serenpedac]

What about kisses while hugging from the back for kendis x nate if you're taking prompts?

i, in fact, am! very tentatively. you get to be my writing for the day. yay you! .... or sorry.

Nathaniel didn't like to consider himself an impulsive man --- for the fact of the matter, he's spent the entirety of his lives cultivating the exact opposite image.

His fingers flexed into a fist after he placed his hand against the doorframe, the strength of his focus was so ensnared by the sight before him that it didn't register to him that his fingernails were eating into the meat of his palm.

It was on her neck. Nate squeezed fingers even tighter together as ... something, some feeling ... some sensation .... caught in his throat. Here at the entrance of the Warehouse's kitchen, after a long and tense day at the Agency, he found boundaries of his patience being tested ...

By the large streak that had managed to find itself on the back of Kendis' neck.

His body remained rigid, stiff as the feeling lodged inside of him, as he attempted to keep himself from just grabbing them into him. He knew ... thought made him stiffen even more, but he knew that it wasn't just his touch that Kendis shied away from. Yet the thought he made them uncomfortable for some reason made him want to push further, instead of falling back. He felt as if he didn't ... he didn't crowd her than she would slip away from fingers that they didn't dare let reach them.

That was unlike him. She made him so unlike himself at times, that he hated it. He hated it so much, he thought; and the corners of his lips flowed into a smile and the frustration he'd been feeling melted away. He couldn't help but picture all the possible reasons for the flour at the back of their neck.

He found himself stepping forward, easing away from the doorway, and giving into the temptation and desire to jerk her close to him. He really wanted to. He knew he could just ask for the touch that he badly needed but Kendis being Kendis there were worse things they could say aside for 'no'. And 'no' was already devastating in it's own right.

Before he could give into the temptation, she turned partly as if she sensed him. The corner of her eye flickered toward him before she turned back toward the counter, set something down, and turned back fully toward him.

Their eyes trailed from his not-at-all artfully tousled hair and took in the wrinkles on his shirt that he hoped he had smoothed away effectively as well as the scuff on the shoes that had been polished when he'd left earlier in the day.

"Whoa. Farah wasn't kidding. You look like --"

"Please," He sighed, tired for various reasons, "don't finish that."

She scoffed but despite that a smirk tilted her lips crookedly before she teased, "Hey. I coulda hit you right off with what Morgan said. But sure." They shrugged. "Since you had such a donkey's crackhole of a day," Nathaniel resisted the urge to wince as they continued on, "I suppose I should cheer you up. An' play nice. Whadda you want? I think the dogpark's still -"

"A hug." The words slipped out before he could stop himself.

He wasn't sure if he hoped that she hadn't or that she had heard his words.

Given her sudden stillness -- a stillness that was an absence of movement that almost rival a vampire's -- it really didn't matt what he hoped. What he wanted.

It felt as if minutes crawled by and he found himself agitated again for another moment in this extremely long day -- agitated in a way he'd never really been since he was a boy .... Perhaps the was the correct term was antsy.

Perhaps that was the feeling that kept itself stuck inside of him, under his skin. Kendis often had a way of making him feel antsy.

His typically quick tongue, adept at smoothing things over felt rigid in his mouth.

And she just kept staring at him. She truly did make him feel so unlike himself.

"Sure."

The word was stated so simply, without any argument Nate would have thought it was his imagination - he likely would have missed it if he hadn't been a vampire - until she opened their arms for him to step into.

"I -"

"This has a time limit so you better hop to it."

It was his turn to stare. Then blink. Then slowly his lips curved into another smile as he caught the impatient wiggling of their fingers.

He felt as if he were slipping free from the weight of the day ... and something extra as he fell into their welcoming arms. He felt almost delirious. He felt so very light as he took the opportunity to in turn wrap his arms around them.

"You know," he started, "for someone who dislikes hugs you are quite --"

"Your luck. You're pushing it."

"I wouldn't the man you -- you cared for if I didn't." Clearly he'd become a man possessed.

Kendis let out a loud snort near his ear and pressed a soft kiss at his temple; so, of course, Nate took the opportunity to place one at the corner of her lips. They rolled their eyes.

[serenpedac]

Vampire Divorce Court - Domesticated Goose Chase

Does anyone remember plotbunnies? I feel like I'm dealing with a herd of them lately, all dragging me in different directions. I've finally managed to ignore most of them to finish this part. Also, I didn't intend for any of these 'chapters' to be longer than 2k words, but this one got hefty. That's one reason I ended up needing to cut it in half, but also because then I get an excuse to make the next part some Adam/Farah fluff <3

Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

Summary: Barbie's good at her job. She's just really, really bad at people.

Word Count: 3,791

First | Previous | Part 10 | Next

***

Book 1, Wayhaven, A few miles into the woods

“So, you must be from…the 1700s,” Kira says. Barbie blinks, jerking her head up from the map in her hands to stare at her new friend.

“Not even remotely close,” Barbie says with a laugh. “What makes you think that?”

“1800s?” Kira asks.

Despite the two or so hours they’ve been hiking through the dense foliage of protected land surrounding the town of Wayhaven, Kira’s showing no sign of being tired. At worst, she’s a bit flushed, and even that can be attributed to the brisk wind blowing through periodically. She is, as ever, perky and bright and potentially a bit bored now if she’s to the point of interrogating Barbie on her ages.

Barbie presses down on a smile and shakes hear head. “Kira, honestly. I’m not that old.”

“I just assumed, given the lack of GPS,” Kira says with a cheeky shrug.

Barbie laughs again, this time loud enough that Nat and Mason glance back at them. She gives them no mind though, and especially not Mason, regardless of how annoyed he is at every reminder that she’s still there. It’s his own fault for not saying anything when Adam paired himself with Farah to keep an eye on them from a distance. Allegedly to ensure no one gets the drop on their party. Neither of them have been close enough to see for almost an hour now.

“I am perfectly capable of using technology,” Barbie says, slyly adding, “Not all of us struggle so severely with it.”

Nat gives a quiet huff ahead that has Kira covering her mouth to stop a giggle from coming out. Eyes shining, Kira points to the compass in Barbie’s other hand.

“Okay, so why this set up then?”

Barbie carefully adjusts her hold on the map in her hand, doing her best to not damage the yellowed paper.

“For one, knowing how to navigate without computers is an excellent skill to have and keep sharp,” Barbie says. Kira nods along. “For another, this map is from somewhere in the 60s and hasn’t been uploaded to Wayhaven’s digital database. Which, the online database is a mess by the way. Someone really ought to sort it out.”

“You have access to the database?” Kira asks with a disbelieving sputter. Barbie nods.

“Part of the Agency partnering with the local authorities, of course.”

“Of course,” Kira mutters. With sigh, she asks, “Alright, so then who’s older, you or the map?”

Fond as she is of the detective, Barbie still pretends to check the map for something to but a little time before she has to respond. Most of Kira’s questions to this point have hit Barbie in something of a tender emotional area. She hasn’t had to talk about or think so deeply on her condition before now, not really. Mostly she does her best to pretend she’s still human. Over their time together these past few days though, Barbie finds Kira’s curiosity charming more than grating. Enough so that the actual discomfort is minimal.

Still, Kira has gotten very bold with her nosiness, so Barbie gives her her best withering look. Kira holds her hands up.

“I can’t help it, I want to know everything!” Kira says. A burst of fondness rushes through Barbie’s chest; had she not been exactly the same when she was a young 20-something? Learning about the supernatural world had been the greatest thing to ever happen to her back then. It’s why she left everything else behind to join the Agency, even though they’d been so damned reluctant. Probably mostly because of the repeated trespassing.

“I suppose it can’t be helped,” Barbie grimaces. “Not after the comment you made about my vintage clothing.”

It’s Barbie’s own fault for falling so far out of style. With her looking the way she does now though, she doesn’t much enjoy venturing out amongst humans. She hasn’t been shopping for new clothes before today in probably…30 years? She’s meticulous with her clothing care, so it’s hardly as if she needs new clothes very often, much as she used to absolutely adore shopping.

Kira’s cheek go apple red and she stammers out, “I—I’m still really sorry about that. I love vintage clothing, my clothes are mostly Edwardian inspired but around here that’s very strange so when I saw someone else who might have my same hobby—”

Barbie shifts the compass and map to one hand so she can give Kira’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I am teasing you,” Barbie assures her. “In a friendly way.”

“Right, of course.” Kira runs a hand over her hair.

“Fucks’ sake,” Mason snaps, turning to approach with a glare. “Can you focus on the fucking mission for once? I’d like to get this done and over with.”

“I am currently navigating us,” Barbie says, nose wrinkled as she waves the map at him. “It’s not as if you’re doing anything productive, unless you count stomping around like a maniac.”

In a flash, Nat is there, seamlessly sliding herself between them. Her presence alone gets Mason to take a half step away, and the look she gives him seems to convey some sort of message that gets him to lower his hackles.

To Barbie, she asks, “Are you certain this is the way to Murphy’s base? We’ve been at this for quite some time without seeing much.”

Barbie pauses to consider her answer carefully, as this was the question she was hoping no one would ask. Being known as a bit of an investigative genius usually does a lot for her ability to work without being questioned. Having not worked with Unit Bravo in such a long time has clearly deteriorated their faith in her abilities though. As much as it makes sense, she still resents that this particular doubt has come from Nat, and in front of Mason no less.

There’s nothing for it, she has to answer.

“I heavily suspect so,” she replies. It is, unfortunately, the most honest answer she can give, as well as the only one she can risk with Mason staring at her.

Nat’s eyes fall shut and she takes in a quiet breath. On the exhale, she opens her eyes with a pleading look.

“What do you mean by heavily suspect?” Nat asks. Mason growls with irritation, stomps closer, and snatches the map right out of Barbie’s hand. She squawks indignantly.

“Be careful with that! It’s very old, and I need to return it in perfect condition so no one knows I took it!” Barbie shouts. Kira gives Barbie a look of exasperation.

“You stole city property?” Kira asks, hands on her hips. Her eyebrows draw close together, mouth set in a shallow frown. Then, one eyebrow lifts incredulously. “How exactly would they know you took it?”

“Well, I signed in before going into the records office, of course,” Barbie says, waving her off. Kira lets out a short, amused laugh and shakes her head, making the long strawberry blonde rope of hair braided down her back swing back and forth.

By this point Mason is done poring over the map and tosses it back at her. Barbie scrambles, just barely catching it. He turns to Nat and says, “There’s no buildings within 15 miles. Waste of fucking time.”

“Oh Barbie,” Nat mutters. Barbie’s cheeks warm.

“I know what I’m doing,” she insists. “Even if there’s no building on this map, that doesn’t mean there isn’t something there. I have a very good feeling about this area. All my research has given a strong impression that there’s a building or hub of some sort out here.”

Nat and Mason share a look that she doesn’t like one bit. With care, Nat says, “Perhaps we’d be better off returning to town for now and doing a bit more research before—”

“I’m not going back,” Barbie snaps, furious. There is little she hates more than being treated like an idiot. “If you want to go, then go. I don’t need any of you to do my job.”

“You don’t seem to need anyone,” Mason says, crossing his arms and leaning against a tree trunk.

He’s right. Absolutely right. Barbie doesn’t need anyone, particularly him. Despite the truth in his words, she’s still pretty ticked off about it.

“Always a smart ass comment, never a smart solution,” Barbie shoots back. He growls, baring his teeth, but no fang. Kira gets between them, blocking her view of her…of Mason.

Kira brushes her fingertips down Nat’s sleeve, just briefly, before dropping her hand back to her side. Nat startles at the touch, her eyes wide, throat working. Barbie doesn’t remember Nat ever being quite so touch averse. Then again, things happen even when one isn’t around to witness them. Perhaps Nat’s gone through some sort of ordeal again. Like when that gorgon dumped her the week of Valentine’s day.

Kira says, “I’d like to see this through. Barbie’s been working on this for a while. Even if she doesn’t have concrete proof, I think she’s probably onto something. Besides, I’ve grown up here my whole life and I still find places I’ve never seen before.”

Nat chews her lip, no doubt unsure of making such a call without Adam there to hold her hand. As if she can hear the thought, Nat glances to Barbie, which makes her feel immediately ashamed. Even if she’s horribly irate today, that’s no reason to bite Nat’s head off about it. Nat is lovely, even if her team could use a bit of polish.

Taking a steadying breath that somehow makes her feel lightheaded, Barbie says, “I truly have no problem pursuing this on my own. If I find something, I’ll call and mark it on the map for the team.”

“And if you find the rogue?” Mason asks. Barbie presses her lips into a hard line, her heart giving a weak jolt. It’s a possibility she has been willfully ignoring thus far.

“That would be...less than ideal,” Barbie says, but offers no real plan of action for that potential situation. Mostly because she has no idea what she’d do. Experience says she’d likely freeze up on the spot, but the optimist in her hopes she’d at least attempt to run away, for all the good it would do her.

Fear settles in her chest, but even so, she finds her desire to prove her theory on the rogue dubbed Murphy’s hideout. What he’s doing to people would require him to have some sort of steady base where he’s storing his equipment and a source of electricity. Anywhere like that would maybe even has his notes on what procedure he’s attempting.

“So you’re looking to get yourself killed,” Mason accuses.

Barbie’s fingers tighten on the map and she frowns deeply. Much as she hates her life every single second of every single day, rarely has she considered ending it. The very thought terrifies her. Besides, her brother would be left alone at that point, and she can hardly excuse doing that now.

“Kira’s right,” Nat says at long last. She smiles down at their dear detective. “It’s worth trying. We lose nothing either way.”

“Exactly,” Kira says happily, her pulse beating just a bit faster as she and Nat share a long look. It’s really lovely to meet someone as friendly as Kira. It’s also lovely to have someone on her side when Unit Bravo seems so primed to be against her. “Okay Babs, where to?”

She turns around and holds the map up so Kira and Nat can see it over her shoulder. Though she didn’t dare use pencil on the old paper, she traces the mental line she had drawn of their path with the tip of a fingernail.

“This way,” she says. Kira hums.

“But where exactly are we heading?” she asks. Barbie curves the line she’s drawing, bringing it around in a slow loop before tapping on the spot where Murphy is most likely hiding. Kira gives her a questioning look and says, “We’ve already passed that.”

“Yes but…” Barbie trails off, suddenly choked up by the realization that they all think she’s messed this whole thing up. They must think she’s an idiot, and a stubborn one at that.

It’s true that the path she’s chosen is massively inefficient. They’ll end up hiking nearly an hour longer than if they take the straightforward path. She has no evidence or reason to continue going around the suspected base other than this deep, gut feeling she has. It’s bad enough that she also has no evidence or reason to believe the base will be where she says it will be.

Gut feelings and instincts aren’t Barbie’s strong point. She can’t trust her own first reaction to most things, as her knee jerk reaction is almost always an illogical one. Freeze in place when threatened with danger. Faint at the sight of blood. Lash out and isolate herself during the hardest transition period of her ever elongating life.

Trying to ask the three of them to put their trust in her to go out to this area is already pushing her luck. She knows she won’t win them over on taking the illogical path as well. So she gives that one up. Her eyelid twitches.

“Of course. That makes sense. We’ll take the shorter route,” Barbie grits out.

She can’t quite bring herself to relinquish the map, but Kira doesn’t need one to lead the way. It’s clear in the way she moves through the foliage and barely-there paths that she’s familiar with every rock, tree, and bush they pass. She seems so entirely at ease that Barbie feels a sharp stab of jealousy; has she ever felt so comfortable? So certain in both herself and others’ belief in her?

Well, perhaps in herself. Barbie can hardly help thinking she’s often right.

As they grow closer, Barbie’s chest feels tighter. Her heart picks up it’s pace and her limbs feel shaky. She’s reminded entirely of the way she feels when she knows she’ll have to drink soon, an unpleasant reminder that only makes the tumultuous feelings bubbling up inside her all the worse.

“Are you alright, Barbie?” Nat asks. Barbie pulls her new hiking jacket more securely around herself and scowls. Worse than feeling like this is having anyone else notice or, God forbid, comment on it. She already hates being seen like this, let alone inspected.

“I am fine,” she says, hearing the robot way it comes out with no ability to change it. Kira glances over her shoulder, slowing.

“Do we need to stop?” Kira asks with so much concern it makes Barbie want to fold herself up and get stuffed into an envelope.

“No, I am fine.”

Mason snorts. “What, being told you’re wrong sending you into some kind of shock?”

“Of course not,” Barbie says, attempting to sound unbothered, just as she has since she arrived. Her facade is slipping more and more with each attempt though. “I’m more than aware that I am…wrong about things, at least as much as any other person.”

Mason’s grin both irritates and excites her. “All said without gagging or anything. Good job, sw—”

“Would you shut up?” she snaps. There’s pressure in her gums, around her canines, so she grits her teeth to try and hold back the fangs that desperately want to show. Even after such a long time bearing this existence, she hasn’t managed to gain the control she should have over her own body, and it’s always horribly embarrassing to be caught with her fangs out. It doesn’t help that her stomach is starting to ache with hunger.

Perhaps this is why she’s feeling so odd. It may be that ignoring her body’s signals is easier in the comfortable, familiar environment of the archives. Out here, everything prickles.

Nat presses her mouth into a hard line, then turns and says, “Mason, perhaps you can drop back a bit and take up the rear?”

Shockingly, he does so, letting Barbie step past him without commentary. Probably he’s delighted to be left alone, where he doesn’t have to so much as pretend to care for anyone but himself. Perhaps that’s why he was picking a fight with her, hoping Nat would separate him from the rest of them. She wouldn’t put it past him.

Her irritation distracts her for a while as they walk, kept well fed by the feeling of Mason’s eyes boring through her head. Eventually though, that odd not-right sensation from before returns with a vengeance. She hesitates, glancing in the direction of the path she’d wanted to take, where the not-right feeling didn’t exist.

“So,” Nat says brightly, her voice reminding Barbie to keep up. There’s no point in her going down any other path than the one the team has decided to follow. Despite her earlier declaration, Barbie doesn’t actually fancy getting lost out here alone, even if she’s technically one of the scarier things in the forest. Barring every other vampire within a 50 mile radius, of course.

Kira glances her way (which is a bit to the left and quite a lot up) and says, “So?”

“So how is your fiancée doing? Bobby, right?” Nat asks. Kira’s cheerful expression dims ever so slightly.

“Right, um. She’s doing well,” Kira says with a bit too much effort. Turning to look ahead for the right direction, she adds, “We haven’t spent much time together since I got back from the Agency.”

Nat hums. “Yes, I imagine we’re keeping you too busy.”

“I guess so,” Kira says with a shrug. “It’s also partially because she’s too nosy for her own good. If I spend more than five minutes with her she starts badgering me for information on you, the investigation, the victims…”

“Ah.” Nat’s expression twists into something sorrowful. “That must be very hard. You shouldn’t have to hide such things from the one you love most.”

“This way,” Kira says sharply, jamming a finger ahead. “Just down this slope.”

Slightly hidden by some unruly blackberry brambles is a narrow decline down to the forest roughly 15 meters below, and not far from their destination. There are rocks of various sizes, from basketball to Kira’s car sized. The ground is uneven, mostly held together by tangled tree roots and a prayer. There are plenty of flat, foot sized spots that create a horrible staircase downward. Barbie sways very slightly on her feet and has to look away.

Nat looks down. “Hm. It’s a bit damp.”

“Damp is hardly the worst part of this,” Barbie says, unable to even feign a hint of enthusiasm. Kira waves them both off.

“Oh you’ll be fine, you’ve all got way longer legs than me. You can probably just go from step to step, while I’ll have to shimmy down the rocks.” She says this with a bright smile, as if she’s actually quite looking forward to the climb. Barbie is desperately fascinated by their detective, but there is undeniably something wrong with her.

Nat steps up, brows creased. She reaches out as if to touch Kira’s shoulder, but doesn’t. Oddly, she simply hovers her hand over her shoulder instead. Kira reacts just the same as if Nat has touched her though, glancing all the way up at her with a questioning look.

“I think I should go first,” Nat says, then gives a soft, smooth smile. The same one that usually leads to her getting whatever it is she’s asking for. Her brown eyes sparkle with warmth. “Just to be safe.”

Kira steps aside, gesturing for her to go ahead. “Alright, I’ll follow you then.”

Nat’s smile falters for the barest second before she steps past them to lead the way.

“And I’ll follow you,” Barbie says, giving the path a nervous look. Sure, even if she does fall from this height she’ll be just fine. It won’t kill her, not even close. That doesn’t make her any less wary of pain. She’d thought, back when she first turned, that her fear of pain and injury might fade over time. After all, Unit Bravo never seemed to let such things deter them when she worked with them. But no, she still winces and flinches at even the barest hint of pain or danger. It seems they are simply very different creatures than she.

Kira reaches a hand out, palm up. Mystified, Barbie tentatively places hers on top of it, blinking as Kira laces their fingers together.

“I’ve got you,” Kira promises.

Brave Kira. So delicately human, but so unafraid. So sure of herself. Barbie can’t help a smile.

“That reassures me a little,” she admits. Kira gives her hand a squeeze.

They proceed that way, with Nat in front, the Kira and Barbie, and just behind them Mason. He drops carelessly from step to step with his hands deep in his jacket pockets. Despite how he lumbers around, Mason is actually quite nimble. He’ll certainly be bored waiting for the rest of them to tiptoe their way down.

The next step is quite steep, far enough down that Barbie hesitates to let herself down. Kira smiles up and holds her hand out again.

“You can lean on me,” Kira says, encouragingly. Barbie has to remind herself not to bite off her lipstick. Nat turns, blanching.

“Perhaps I should help,” Nat says, walking back up toward them. Kira looks over her shoulder at the other woman, a scowl threatening to show on her face.

“It’s fine,” Kira assures her.

Barbie, embarrassed and upset. Undeterred, Natalie, it’s fine.”

She can handle being given a hand down, for fuck’s sake. It’s like they all think she’ll black out and go insane with bloodlust from simple proximity. Foolishness.

Undeterred, Nat hurries as Barbie borrows Kira’s strength to step down. As Barbie’s new boots find solid ground, Nat jumps up onto a nearby boulder, green with moss. Very slick moss.

Kira’s eyes widen. She releases Barbie and turns toward the other vampire. “Nat—”

Nat seems to realize her error just a moment after Kira, her shoe slipping and sending her off kilter. Knowing she’ll be fine, Barbie doesn’t move at all to help. Unfortunately, Kira’s all-too-human instinct to help kicks in, and she jumps down to the next stone, her hands striking out to fist in the front of Nat’s leather jacket.

For a moment, it seems that Kira’s efforts will pay off. Her shoes slide forward as Nat manages to keep her balance long enough to grasp at a low hanging branch near Kira’s shoulder. For a moment, they hang there, barely more than their toes holding them in place.

The branch snaps.

Kira and Nat disappear.

[serenpedac]

it's tuesday, which is basically wednesday, so have a snippet from another chicago chapter of attachment theory

[serenpedac]

With the F1 Movie release lingering closer and closer, it’s time to have an uncomfortable conversation.

Forgive me for going all feminist on you (I’m not sorry), but have a seat and let’s chat, yeah?

Let’s discuss the negative impact this movie is going to have on women in motorsport as well as female fans, shall we?

Of course the obvious conversation is about the women working in motorsport. Imagine how poorly the plot is going to reflect on them. Why? Oh, well let’s see. You’ve got an entire plot that revolves around the main character (who’s played by a misogynistic wife beater, by the way, great casting choice!) sleeping with his fucking female engineer.

Now bear in mind how that’s going to negatively affect the PR of women working in motorsport. Especially Laura Mueller, who is the sport’s first ever female race engineer in its entire 75 year history. Who literally already has incels on the internet saying the only way she got her job is because she slept with someone.

And of course, consider the female fans.

There are so many of us out here every day fighting with male fans who think we “don’t know anything” and “only watch F1 because the drivers are hot.” We are constantly ostracized in this fucking sport and feeling like we have to prove that we’re even allowed to like it.

Can you imagine how poorly the F1 Movie will reflect on us?

All this movie is going to do is push the harmful, negative stereotype that F1 is a “man’s world.” It’s just going to make women feel like they don’t belong in a sport where they already feel shoved aside.

So, and maybe I’m being a little dramatic here, but if you happen to know a female F1 fan, please be kind to her. Please check on her.

And to all my ladies, we do belong in this sport. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. 💜💜

[serenpedac]

My father has been in ICU for over a month, and is fighting for his life against an extremely rare and dangerous autoimmune disease known as TAFRO, which only has a 30% survival rate. The medical bills have started coming in from the last hospital he was at, and my family and I simply don’t know how else to keep up on them to get him the care he needs to live. If you can, please share this fundraiser to help get the word out, and any amount that you can afford to give is incredibly appreciated! Thank you so much for all of your support 💙

[serenpedac]

“It’s Giving” AAVE, and the Denied Yet Undeniable Impact of Black Culture

I grew up knowing it as Ebonics; I didn’t hear 'AAVE' until I was an adult. Apparently it’s used derogatorily- I did not know. But when Robert Williams coined the term in the 70s, its meaning was:

“…the linguistic and paralinguistic features which on a concentric continuum represents the communicative compentence of the West African, Caribbean, and United States idioms, patois, argots, ideolects, and social forces of black people…Ebonics derives its form from ebony (black) and phonics (sound, study of sound) and refers to the study of the language of black people in all its cultural uniqueness.”

Familiar Examples include but are not limited to:

The History

It was unbelievably difficult to find a solely Black perspective on the subject. I’m gonna need everyone to let Black linguists talk, it’s literally their job. Anyway, I need y’all to actually WATCH this video. Don’t skip it thinking I’ll summarize. Watch it. Actually listen. That’s part of the problem to begin with, is not listening. Even if you have to read this lesson later, so be it.

One of the points emphasized in this video was that AAVE was formed of the need to communicate, and specifically to communicate in a way that hid what we were saying and thinking from antagonistic white society.

“…“the disguise language used by enslaved Africans to conceal their conversations from their white slave masters to the lyrics of today’s rap music, [the magical power of] the word has been shaped by a time when, as observed by Harlem newspaper writer Earl Conrad, ‘it was necessary for the Negro to speak and sing and even think in a kind of code.’””

Because it was in a form that white people could not understand, as well as already existing racist biases against the humanity and intelligence of Black people, naturally it was assumed that our way of communicating was ignorant and ‘false’. Even acknowledging it as a valid language was seen as abhorrent, by nonblack and certain Black people.

“For decades, linguists and other educators, pointing to the logic and science of language, have tried to convince people that Black English exists, that isn’t just a politically correct label for a poor version of English but is a valid system of language, with its own consistent grammar. In 1996, with the unanimous support of linguists, the Oakland School Board voted to recognize AAVE, or the more politicized term “Ebonics” (a portmanteau of “Ebony” and “phonics”), as a community language for African American students, a decision which might have opened up much needed additional funding for education. Instead it resulted in intense public backlash and derision due to the still widespread, incorrect belief that Black English was an inferior, uneducated form of English associated with illiteracy, poverty, and crime. It’s hard for a language to get ahead when it keeps getting put down. Some linguists, such as John Russell Rickford, have noted how even sympathetic linguistic research, which has derived a lot of benefit and understanding from Black English grammar, can unknowingly focus on data that represents African American communities negatively, giving “the impression that black speech was the lingo of criminals, dope pushers, teenage hoodlums, and various and sundry hustlers, who spoke only in ‘muthafuckas’ and ‘pussy-copping raps.’” The term “Ebonics” even now is used mockingly by some as a byword for broken English.”"

(Some of) The Rules

AAVE is a full dialect with grammar and social rules. But the ones most people are familiar with include:

Th becoming D (“dats”)

Double Negative (“I ain’t see nobody”)

Habitual Be (“It’s cuz he be on that phone”)

Possessive s absence (“I’m going to my grandaddy house”)

Question word order (“who that is with the ice cream and cake?”)

Zero copula (“who that?”)

"Why do you talk like that" Would you rather I code switch?

“Code switching, or adjusting one’s normal behavior to fit into an environment, has long been a strategy for BlPOC individuals to navigate interracial interactions successfully. Code switching often occurs in spaces where negative stereotypes of Black individuals run counter to what are considered appropriate or professional behaviors and norms in a specific environment, and regularly happen in work settings.”

In this context, you might recognize it better as “using your white people voice”.

Some Black Americans, for varying reasons including internalized antiblackness and a desire for assimilation, hate AAVE! Some people will hate that you don’t use AAVE! Never assume we’re all on the same page about its use! My own mother used to be big on speaking ‘proper English’.

Regional Differences

The same way regional differences affect standard pronunciation, it’ll affect the AAVE used. Culture in the area as well will affect the words that come from it. So someone Black using a phrase in Philadelphia might not automatically know what someone Black from Compton is saying.

Someone did their dissertation on this topic, and while I’m going to link the summary for yall to give it a shot, Imma be honest- I do not understand this. I tried. It’s interesting how something that comes so innately, once written out like this is like WHAT. But the research has been done!

Easier examples include:

"Aaron earned an iron urn"- Baltimore

GloRilla and "Mursic"- Memphis

A lot of AAVE from New York City is popularized; so you might hear words from anywhere that originated from Harlem or Queens, or New York Ballroom culture

Tonal Languages

One major source of misunderstanding AAVE is people not understanding tonality. AAVE is often tonal, similar to many African languages, languages in general- meaning that unless you hear it or are innately familiar with how it’s spoken, you might not know HOW I’m saying something and therefore will not understand what I’m trying to convey. Given the history, this was on purpose!

Black language- Black culture in general, really- is often conveyed orally. Everything we say and do is not going to be written down for someone else to study. Doesn’t mean we weren’t saying or doing it. If you want to understand, you have to listen!

“Linguist Margaret G. Lee notes how black speech and verbal expressions have often been found crossing over into mainstream prestige speech, such as in the news, when journalists talk about politicians “dissing” each other, or the New York Times puts out punchy headlines like “Grifters Gonna Grift”. These many borrowings have occurred across major historical eras of African American linguistic creativity. Now-common terms like “you’re the man,” “brother,” “cool,” and “high five” extend from the period of slavery to civil rights, from the Jazz Age to hip-hop: the poetry of the people. This phenomenon reflects how central language and the oral tradition are to the black experience.”

Some examples:

1) "You Good" can mean, depending on how it is said and the context in which it is spoken:

Are you okay?

Do we have a problem?

You’re okay.

You don’t want these problems so chill.

Do you have enough money/resource?

It’s fine! Don’t worry about it.

2) This was an interesting experience, watching the misunderstanding of AAVE occur live. It’s the realization that people read this as “This is something Bugs Bunny would wear” versus “Bugs Bunny would wear the fuck outta that outfit”. But if you didn’t know that, if you aren’t familiar with the tonality of AAVE, of course you’d think the first one is what it meant! And it's not wrong-wrong - he would wear it, but that's not necessarily all it meant.

3) “Chill-ay” versus “Chile”. Yeah, we didn’t forget that. This is often why AAVE is used to sound “aggressive” on the internet- if you perceive (however subconsciously) how Black people speak is aggressive, then when you decide to emulate my speech in your moment of aggression, it is because you think my Blackness will make you seem more intimidating! You find Blackness… intimidating. Same reason you think it makes you funnier than if you were to deliver the same joke using your own dialect. It means the jokes not funny; my language is what’s funny.

Black American Sign Language

We even communicate differently in sign language; there’s an entire history and culture behind the Black deaf experience.

“In April 2020, Nakia Smith, aka Charmay, created a TikTok account introducing five generations of her Black Deaf family and how they communicate in Black ASL. As a social media influencer of Black ASL content, Charmay made a series of educational and informative videos on the history and practice of Black ASL. Charmay’s video went viral, landing in a New York Times article, Black, Deaf and Extremely Online, and Blavity: TikToker Has Gone Viral For Putting The Culture On To Black American Sign Language. Additionally, Netflix requested Charmay to explain the difference between Black ASL and ASL.”

Everyone doesn’t speak AAVE!

If your Black character is not Black American, and has never once been connected with Black American culture or people, they are probably NOT going to speak AAVE! They’re going to speak whatever dialect THEY have! And that doesn’t make it any less “Black” of them!

Different dialects and languages across the diaspora include but are certainly not limited to:

Black British English

Haitian Creole

Gullah

Jamaican and Caribbean Patois

Everyone Owes Rihanna an Apology

Y’all remember the song Work. I know you do. It was mainstream’s love and joy when this song dropped to be overtly racist about it, Black Americans included. Everyone claimed it was ‘gibberish’, that she was just mimicking language on a song and ‘it would be popular’.

Meanwhile, it was her singing in her native island patois! The people who spoke her language understood it! Anybody who actually tried to understand it, understood it! Another popular song, Sean Paul’s Temperature, is also in patois! And I thought we loved that song!

So next time Black people speak and you find yourself thinking- ‘wow, this makes no sense’, I want you to think to yourself: ‘does it make no sense, or do I just lack the context/knowledge/language to understand it?’

NOW THAT WE’VE HAD SOME EXPLANATION BEHIND THE LANGUAGE!

Writing AAVE

Me personally, I admit I don’t like it being used in stories where it is clear the author doesn’t understand the dialect, or where it’s clear the only person who speaks it is the “Black character who OMG DID I TELL YOU THEY WERE BLACK”. I’d rather it be the regular Queen’s English. We speak that too. I’m not going to decry your fanfiction or your regular modern-day original story as “bad” if you choose to use whatever language your region commonly uses. We know how to speak it. We will be okay. Using AAVE is not going to sell me that this character is “Black” if the rest of the character writing is still bad.

If it means that much to you, because it is important to the character, then you as the writer need to commit to learning proper AAVE! This isn’t going to be a “look up every turn of phrase on google” or “ask Ice what every single thing means”. You’re going to have to do what everyone who learns a language does- immerse yourself in it! If you can’t be bothered to learn my language, I’m going to know that when I read your work.

Obviously if there’s a context where the Black people involved do not know how to speak a language, it is perfectly fine to show that, as long as you are showing that it’s not due to some innate stupidity or other stereotype that this person cannot communicate the same way others communicate around them.

“The N Word”

I know someone’s thinking it, so let’s address it. There’s a translation for this word in damn near every language that’s ever come across Black people. So don’t go “oh we don’t have that word in my language-” I bet money you do.

Yes, it could be used in historical context- the ‘hard -er’. Yes, it could be used in social context- the ‘-a’. It follows the tonality rules I discussed earlier; that is, the way it’s used and who is using it makes ALL the difference in how it will be received.

Everyone is not on the same page about the use of this word within our community. Some Black people think it should never be used, period, even by us! Some Black people think that it should be reclaimed and use it as such! The only thing we’re on the same page about is that YOU should not be using it.

I say this to say to nonblack writers: put the pen down.

My stance is, if you can’t understand AAVE, you CERTAINLY aren’t going to be able to incorporate the social use of this word. Period. If you scared of the potential smoke incurred if you fuck it up- and if we see it, you will catch it- don’t bother. Trying to “write realistically” does not cut it. You should be doing everything in your power to understand and write a great Black character in all ways before ever thinking this is something you should do. In fact, if you're that thirsty to use this word, you have some other things you need to consider.

In the historical context, just watch yourself. If you’re gonna drop that word, you need to be damn well-researched on every other aspect of Black life and oppression in whatever era you’re writing. Just dropping this word to say “life is racist” shows a lazy lack of understanding of antiblackness. You don’t even have to drop the whole word. A “ni-” at the end of the sentence is enough for me to know exactly where we’re going! But if you not gone do the rest of the work… you know what they say about stupid games.

The Fundamental Disrespect

If you watched the prior videos (and you should have) and paid attention up to this point, you have already heard the struggles that both AAVE as a dialect and those that speak it go through.

There’s a societal connotation of stupidity, aggression, and silliness behind the way I speak. None of those things are true, and it’s hard to be told that even the way you communicate with others is bad.

But the other reason it’s so hard is because we spend our lives hearing that those are the connotations… when WE speak it. It is not the language- it’s ME that makes it so! And that gets into the other part of this lesson, something that AAVE is oft victim to.

This part is a little scarier for me to write, because people don’t like it when you talk about Black Americans as a separate entity from the US of A as it is known. I’m gonna put on my political hat for a second, but I promise this ties into my overall point so stick with me!

Stolen Cultural Hegemony

The reality is that the United States of America has forced a cultural hegemony upon the planet (amongst other forms). Yes. That is due to the capitalism, colonialism, imperialism and damn near just about every other -ism at the US government and military’s disposal. I am not saying that part somehow changes, of course not. That’s just facts. There are people far smarter than I (Edward Said, take the wheel) who could explain this far better. But I’m only here to explain this one point.

What DOESN’T get acknowledged is how much of what is deemed American pop culture across the world is both 1) stolen 2) Black culture! We do not have equivalent political power despite what our hypervisibility would suggest, but our social currency is raw diamond- so naturally, it has to be plundered! The white American dollar might mean far more than my life, but it’ll pay for my creations- even more so when I’m not involved!

The issue is that if your society says that I am less than, how can you justify how you covet everything I create? If I’m supposed to be so much less than you, why do you seek my language, my fashion, my music, my body? Why do you feel entitled to my creation, but you think you should have it… Without me?

Sit on that one for a second!

Appropriation of AAVE

Let's refer back to that chart at the beginning. How many of these have you seen or even used before? How long did it take for you to know it was AAVE? Don’t get me started on the influence of AAVE in queer spaces!

Of course I’m going to get started. Ballroom culture, created by Black and Latino people in New York City in the 80s (Paris is Burning, anyone?), has spawned so much popular “gay” lingo, and it’s not even just “gay”- it’s of color! Black English in particular is the source of many of the words that queer people use now in casual conversation, brought into the ballrooms, normalized, and then proliferated with other communities.

I can always tell when a new phrase from AAVE has hit nonblack audiences because it’ll suddenly be in every sentence I see, often butchered. Remember that historical context- of having to speak in code. Have you ever considered why AAVE is always evolving? Why we have to find new ways to communicate with each other? Have you considered that when people are constantly taking and misplacing your words, they may lose meaning or value, and so you have to come up with something else?

Appropriation of Black Music

Jazz, swing, the blues, disco, rock and roll, pop, even rap and hiphop have all been subject to appropriation- intentional or not. Far more intentional than you might want to believe. And it all comes back to money!

White audiences in the 1900s loved Black music- as long as they didn’t know Black people were singing it! Often, songs would be completely lifted and given to white bands to re-record. When Frankie Lymon first came on stage to perform, some of the audience was stunned! Even you know Itty Bitty Pretty One!

A more modern-day example: not to pick on the K-Poppies, but unfortunately it’s a low hanging branch example.

What K-Pop groups are doing now is heavily influenced what Black pop, rap, and R&B artists were doing from the late 90s to this very day. Part of the reason I enjoy K-Pop is because it reminds me of the stuff I used to listen to growing up. How many times have you heard someone think a Korean rapper in a K-Pop group is “fine”, but “don’t like” rap otherwise? Or will listen to K-Pop groups, but have very few to no one Black of the same sound on their playlists?

Examples:

Rover by Kai (2023) vs Swalla by Jason Derulo (2017)- Idk how popular Kai is outside of EXO, but I do know that some influence was had. And I like the song, btw! I prefer the music video! It’s just not the first time it’s been done!

Sweet Juice by Purple Kiss (2023) vs Say It Right by Nelly Furtado on a Timbaland beat (2006)

Taemin and Michael Jackson, period. Taemin having a song called The Rizzness. How did ‘rizz’ get to him? How did he know? More relevantly, how did the people who wrote his music know? How did something that started with Black people in Baltimore get all the way to Taemin in South Korea without influence?

I’ll use another example, so it doesn’t feel like I’m picking on K-Pop. I’m currently listening to CĂN NHÀ TRANH MÁI LÁ (Vietnamese, if you couldn’t tell) and as much of a banger as it is, with its own amazing cultural spin on the delivery… it is CLEARLY influenced by Black American rap. He nicknamed himself Vietgunna. Yall.

A non-American musical example: Afrobeats has taken the music industry by storm… How many of those people who enjoy an afrobeat from a nonblack artist will enjoy it from Wizkid or TEMS?

Those polls, where they ask how many Black artists you listen to… try paying attention to see just how much of your music takes inspiration from Black creators, but there’s a non-equivalent amount of Black artists that you support!

Political Bastardization of Powerful Black Colloquialisms

The appropriation of Black English isn’t always for entertainment. Sometimes, it’s a purposeful, malicious tactic to demean the words, and therefore the intent behind them.

“Woke”

“Michael Harriot, columnist at TheGrio and author of the upcoming book, Black AF History: The Unwhitewashed Story of America, explains that this kind of insidious takeover and flipping of Black vernacular to anti-Black pejorative has numerous parallels in America’s past and runs all the way up to present day. “When you look at the long arc of history and America’s reaction to the request for Black liberation – every time Black people try to use a phrase or coin a phrase that symbolizes our desire for liberation, it will eventually become a cuss word to white people,” Harriot says in an interview with [Legal Defense Fund]. It’s perhaps this very context — Black people’s awareness of their history and their power to resist injustice — that made woke so ripe for the pernicious mutation it has now undergone. Indeed, the forced transformation of the colloquialism echoes how countless other Black ideas and intellectual contributions have been maligned. “When people during the civil rights movement began saying ‘Black power,’ all of a sudden it became a term that people equated with communism and anti-white sentiment — and then it eventually gave birth to ‘white power,’” Harriot tells LDF. “The ‘1619 Project’ [which centers the ramifications of slavery and the contributions of Black people in American history] has become an insult. ‘Black Lives Matter’ became an ‘anti-white sentiment’ that was banned in school and spawned ‘all lives matter’ and ‘blue lives matter.’”

#SayHerName

This discourse is happening again, it happens like every six months on here, and it’s one of the things on here that fills me with a hatred that I struggle with every single time. It is hard, I literally feel that hatred in the pit of my chest right now as I type this.

Kimberle Crenshaw (Black woman and the originator of the legal term ‘intersectionality’), the Center for Intersectionality and Social Policy Studies, and African American Policy Forum coined the hashtag in 2014. TWENTY FOURTEEN.

It was meant to highlight the violent deaths of Black women and girls at the hands of police, which happens at a high rate like Black men and boys, but often goes far less acknowledged. By appropriating the hashtag, you are actively choosing to speak over the very names and deaths of Black women and girls we don’t know, because we are NOT SAYING THEM, and therefore are allowing those deaths to continue as though they do not matter.

I’m going to stop before I get more upset. But know what violence you’re contributing to in your negligence.

How to Avoid Cultural Appropriation while Showing Appreciation

Everything is obviously not appropriation. It is possible for people to appreciate, replicate, and take influence without being disrespectful! It happens! And because it is possible, is why it’s so infuriating that it does not.

It’s frustrating that when something is on me, it’s ghetto, ugly, ignorant. But when it’s on the right stick thin pale girl, it’s chic, it’s fashionable, it’s new. So if it’s not the language, and it’s not the fashion or music you don’t like… It must be… Me. I am somehow not worthy of respect for the very culture I create.

Can you imagine being told that? That you are not worthy of being… you?

If you are worried about cultural appropriation, both in your writing and in your life, the easiest way to avoid that is to:

1) acknowledge and support the culture that created what you’re saying or doing and

2) actually treat them like human beings instead of zoo animals or a species to study. Show respect! It’s not hard!

This is my body, my language, my creation. It’s not just to entertain you! It’s my life! I talk like this because this is how I speak, not because I want to get Tiktok cool points. If I’m around people who treat the way I talk like childish babble, it makes me feel stupid and disrespected. We can see that, and we can read it in your writing.

And yes, you may be saying “well none of that is unique to AAVE, that’s how other languages work!” Okay then go speak those languages then lmao. But if you’re absolutely determined to understand and utilize mine, then you need to treat it with respect and not like the Gen Z slang babble (or worse- the threat) y’all treat it as. It’s a form of antiblackness that is so normalized that we don’t even think about it… but now that you’ve read this lesson, you can start! You can start taking the time to actively dedicate a thought to what you’re saying and doing and where it came from. You can take the time to notice when something isn’t right- and maybe even choose to speak up, because it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers.

[serenpedac]

For Kendis and Val!

Which canon character respects your OC most? What gained that respect?

Which canon character does your OC respect a lot?

Which canon character doesn’t respect your OC whatsoever?

Which canon character does your OC not respect at all? Why?

Which canon character respects your OC most? What gained that respect?

Kendis: Hmm. Respect the most? I don't know. I guess Tina and/or Verda? Because they know how hard Kendis works and how dogged they are once her mind is on a task. Tina also has the benefit of knowing Kendis for several years and Verda has that science connection. And he also knows the secret. Though he didn't appreciate it at first, I think it helped heighten his respect [and worry] for Kendis.

Val: Felix [and Adam if you take out the romance aspect, lol]. F is team detective no matter what [mostly]. And Felix is Val's best friend. He has seen their highs and lows the way no one else really has, I feel though Val is very close to Tina there is still a layer of jokes between them ... I think Felix thanks to his powers and perceptiveness sees through the core of Val in a way no one else can or tries to. I think Felix really admires that Val is sticking to it despite their initial distaste and distrust, and their continued wariness for the supernatural. I think Adam does too.

I feel both see past the stubbornness and laid-backness to someone who really cares. And honestly, I feel Felix also appreciates Val's 'playful in inappropriate moments' vibe.

Honorable mention for both Val and Kendis: Douglas Friedman lol

Which canon character does your OC respect a lot?

Kendis: Ack. Trapped me with the word 'canon'. I have no idea. I don't know. LMAO. Does Kendis have a lot of respect for anyone? Maybe a moderate amount ... lol.

Hm. I guess. My first thoughts were the Verdas and Captain Sung. So, I'll go with the Verdas. I do think Kendis has a lot of respect for Elidor.

Val: Captain Sung, lol. And maybe Adam. Despite what either may think based on Val's attitude lol.

Which canon character doesn’t respect your OC whatsoever?

Kendis: Everyone loves Kendis. lol. Probably the Mayor.

Val: The Mayor. Maybe Nate. He's trying though. The two are making improvements -- Val and Nate. Not Nate and the Mayor

Which canon character does your OC not respect at all? Why?

Val: Bobby. ROFL. Bobby. Even more than Rebecca. It is BOBBY.

Had to slip Val in there because it was so obvious lmao. Val just dislikes everything Bobby stands on on principal. Val might be too awkward and maybe even too and too uncomfortable for the humanistic aspect of being a detective. They would pawn that off if they could. But they find the way Bobby uses people is heinous. They genuinely think he's a lowlife. And would debate spitting if he was on fire ... I mean they'd help but grumble the whole time lol.

Kendis: Must it be a CHARACTER? If not, the Agency. If so, probably Murphy. I don't know. Kendis as a whole doesn't have a lot of respect for a lot of people. It isn't personal. I think it is just their approach to it.

I think for Kendis respect has to be given as much as it has to be earned, I feel that is because respect is so easily abused but also because it is way to hook themselves into someone and vice versa, and that is like giving that person a certain power over them. Not to say Kendis doesn't have respect for people -- in a general sense. But Respect ... I guess is different. I don't want to say deferentialness ... because it is Kendis but I suppose ... more open to giving exceptions beyond the general basic respect.

[serenpedac]

are the gems representative of an outfit type, are they what an outfit would be partially/entirely made up of, or are they used for symbolism in another way?

Maybe someone else knows more about this? From what I gathered, we'll have to pick one as the "theme" that the OC will go as, so I suppose their outfit will be inspired by the appearance of the gems. The polls did have a few words of what each gem stands for, but I have no idea if that will play a role in the end?

[serenpedac]

It was about time I drew them truly happy 💖

[serenpedac]

"Gems of the Community" Masquerade Ball - MC Gem Theme Outfit Choices.

Oh guys, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for the results of these polls! Not only because it means I can properly finish the chapter by adding the choice set in, but mostly because I can start picturing things in my mind for the ball now the gem themes are in, hehe! :D

Our Patreon members picked some great choices! Can't wait to write them now… :D

[serenpedac]

Bathing in Moonlight - Andy Lovell

British, b. 1964 -

Silkscreen , 42 x 60 cm . 17 x 24 in. E d. 14 

[serenpedac]

The state of affairs

Rating: Mature (18+) Relationship: Sai/Adam Warnings: Description of explicit acts, infidelity

Half a year after the events of the masquerade, Adam finds himself in front of Sai's apartment building, hoping to talk about their relationship.

Half a year - a long time for some - yet nothing in his already long and suffocating existence.

He tried, Adam thinks to himself, as he stands in front of a familiar apartment building, tense about what might come next. He tried to hide his own feelings, as he did before. He tried to forget about everything that happened between them, although he could still feel Sai's touch upon his skin, burning hot. He tried to avoid him, as much as he could, considering their forced proximity during patrols, trainings and assignments from the Agency. He tried to look away whenever their eyes met across the room, afraid of what might happen otherwise. He tried to forget that he wanted him more than anything else in this world, for both of their sakes…

But Sai Batra was not a man so easily forgettable. Adam learned it the hard way.

The more he pushed away, the more he found himself needing him. The agonizing days turned to weeks, then months and still he needed him. Nate announcing their engagement seemed like a hellish nightmare that Adam wasn't able to wake up from, knowing that now, it was all too late for him to confess his feelings, it was too late to…

"Adam?"

He looks up, pulled away from the contemplations of his actions, to see Sai standing right before him. To hear his name upon his lips, spoken so softly and with such confusion, hurts him more than anything else.

"Sai." He drops the mask of a cold and distant commanding agent, calling him by his name in turn. There's no one here to question why he does it, no one to cast doubt on the meaning behind his choice of words and Adam doesn't feel like putting on an act.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard you needed a ride to the Warehouse today." An easy enough excuse, considering everything that has happened lately. Sai's car finally broke down and although he sent it to a mechanic right away, the car was old enough that it needed time and more than a couple of repairs. Which meant that until the Agency could provide him with a suitable replacement, he would have to rely on Unit Bravo to give him a ride every now and then. It would've been easier for him to move in with them for the time being but Adam refused the idea, quickly regretting it afterwards.

"So you… Volunteered? To take me there?"

"No. Talking about it and trying to figure it out would've been a waste of time. I just left and drove here." He wasn't exactly lying, but he wasn't telling the truth either. Mason was supposed to be the one to give Sai a ride but he was easily convinced to let Adam do it instead. If he remembered correctly, the other vampire gave him a shrug and instead of getting in the car, pulled out freshly acquired cigarettes, going for a smoke without asking any further questions.

"Does Nate know you're here?" Sai asks after a moment of hesitation, looking to the side, nervousness written all over his face.

"If you're asking if I told him where I was going, then no. He doesn't know."

Silence is all that follows. The cold wind howls around them, the sun lazily rising over the horizon. Spring was almost here yet the biting frost and gloomy weather persisted, clinging desperately to the last remnants of winter - yet somehow, while looking out the window at the snow falling, Adam understood, finally, after all this time, just how hard it was to let go.

"I…" Sai stops himself before he can even begin, his expression shifting to a mixture of sadness and uncertainty. "I suppose we should be going then." He walks up to the car, snow crunching beneath his shoes. Adam moves to the side, waiting for Sai to get inside before he follows suit. The atmosphere inside of the vehicle isn't any better, heavy tension and so many unspoken words hanging over their heads, Adam hesitating for just a moment before clearing his throat at the sight of Sai plugging in headphones to a small music player, catching his attention.

"I'm also here because I wanted to speak with you," he says, his words making Sai put his belongings back into the backpack he brought along.

"With how our conversations usually go, I doubt we'll have enough time." Sai's words make him smile, the rumble of the engine forcing him to focus on the road ahead. "It's not a long ride."

"We won't be taking the usual route," Adam says, before backing out of the parking lot.

Wayhaven in winter was truly a sight to behold, the fields and forests sleeping under a heavy coat of snow, nearby rivers frozen in time, waiting for their turn to welcome spring with open arms. As they drove, Sai kept looking out of the window, his eyes focused on the beauty beyond, as was his habit to do. Adam felt guilty at the thought that slowly creeped into his mind - this time of year meant so much to him and what did Adam do with it? Nothing. Sai's birthday came and he didn't say anything. Their eyes met for just a moment before Sai kissed Nate as another year ended. He ignored him, pushed him away, stopped himself from doing that which would mean the world to him.

"You said you wanted to talk." Sai's voice once again pulls him away from his own thoughts, Adam blinking them away. He can only nod, before turning yet another corner, making the car stop on the side of the road. Sai looks around, visibly confused at his actions, before letting out a silent sigh.

A moment passes. Then another. And then, Adam's words cut through the uncomfortable silence, making Sai almost choke on air.

"Do not marry him."

"I'm sorry?" the sheer absurdness of Adam's request makes Sai's body shake where he sits, from anger, from confusion, from all of the emotions that he's been trying to hide while Adam once again pushed away from him.

"Do not marry him." Adam repeats, as if his words didn't reach Sai's ears in an instant just a moment before. "I've known Nate longer than you have. This… This engagement is a mistake." He's not looking at him, while the words spill out of his mouth. It's too late to stop them, it's too late to hold back now.

"A mistake? Why would you… Is this what you wanted to talk about? My relationship with Nate?"

"No but it's-"

"Why? Answer me, why? Why do you take me out here, why do you pretend like…" Sai chokes on his own words, yet Adam's still not brave enough to look at him. "I almost accepted it, you know? This thought that maybe, after all that happened, you finally decided. That you finally let me go, even after I made it so clear that…"

A cruel memory resurfaces at the crumbling shores of Adam's mind, a painful reminder of yet another failure. He told him then, he told him of his deepest desires, he told him that he wanted him, needed him. And still, when Nate walked into the room, rushing toward Sai, Adam didn't find the strength to say or do anything. He could only watch and weep.

"It's not my intention to cause you any more pain." He can feel Sai's emotions, he can smell the rage and resentment deep inside of him, yet so many other things tell him to keep going, to say what needs to be said.

"Then what IS your intention, Adam?"

"For you to reconsider." That much, at least, is true. "I don't want you jumping into something that you'll…" That you'll regret, that you'll curse yourself over for the rest of your life. "I can tell that you're unhappy. I can tell that this is not what you really want and I…"

"So this is what you want? For me to uproot my entire life and chase after you? Again? To tell Nate that we can't be together for what? A chance?" Sai's words pierce through him like a bullet, filling his soul with anguish because at the end of the day, he's asking exactly for what Sai's accusing him of. They sit in silence once more, Adam feeling Sai's gaze burning into him.

"Then… What do you want, Sai?" Adam asks, uncertain of his own words, before finally turning his gaze to the other man.

He looks as if he's about to cry, his fingers nervously reaching for the engagement ring upon his hand. He takes a shuddered breath, looking back at Adam.

"You know what I want… But you won't give it to me."

His words send a shiver through Adam's body.

"What if I… What if I could…" The sight of Sai turning away to wipe away tears forming in the corner of his eyes makes him halt his words.

"Adam, you… You can't do this to me, not again." Sai's voice is but a mere whisper, as he keeps looking away from him and Adam feels his heart, his soul, shatter. Should Sai ask, he'd give the world to him. He'd do anything, say anything. He'd be the most ideal version of himself that he buried under the earth over nine hundred years ago, when his emotions cost him everything. He tried so hard not to act on them and still, it was his emotions that made him drive to Sai's apartment in the first place. It was his emotions that made him say things he only dreamed of saying. And now…

"This time… This time, I…" he reaches out, slowly and as carefully as he can, grasping by Sai's trembling fingers. He doesn't pull away or tell him to stop, instead looking back at him.

Looking up into Adam's icy green eyes, Sai feels as if they're back in that car again, a moment that now felt so distant, looking at one another. Something changed that day - for both of them - a feeling, a thought, that never left their presence. He can feel it still, pulling them toward one another, calming their nerves, soothing their heartaches, as if reassuring them both that they are where they're supposed to be. With one another, away from prying eyes of those who would deny them their feelings.

"This time, I'm not going anywhere." A newly found confidence surges through Adam's body, pushing him to say what he wished to say for so long: "This time, I'm staying. Here, with you. I promise you."

Sai doesn't respond, but Adam can hear his heart beat a little faster, telling him all he needs to know. He wants this, as much as Adam does and that's all that matters…

He leans forward toward Sai, capturing his lips with his own, suddenly and without a second thought. And Sai, for all of his sadness and hesitation, returns the kiss, making it all the sweeter. It's tender and sensual, Sai's lips tasting still of his favourite tea that he drank this morning, Adam's breath catching in his throat at the motion, afraid to stop it. After a moment they pull away from one another and Adam dares to breathe once more.

A part of him wishes to start the car back up again and continue on their way but before he can even suggest it, Sai unbuckles the safety belt holding him in place. Quickly and clumsily, he pushes himself onto Adam's lap, bumping his head against the roof of the car. Adam lets out a laugh at the motion, almost involuntarily, making Sai laugh as well, as he wipes the last of his tears, before leaning forward and kissing him once again. Adam's hands wrap around Sai's waist, pulling him closer, in a move so desperate, he's worried that he'll overwhelm him. But Sai only hums at the motion, his fingers tangled in Adam's hair, each kiss more desperate, more hungry, given and taken with such urgency.

Adam can feel Sai's breath against him, as they break yet another kiss, the skin on his lip now broken from Sai's teeth biting onto it. He feels almost delirious from the sensation, letting a moan escape his own lips as he feels Sai's hardness push against his own, painful against the material of his trousers. From the corner of his eye, Adam can see the engagement ring on Sai's finger glisten in the light but Sai quickly brings his attention back to himself, as he grinds against him, making Adam all but lose it.

And then, in the midst of all the lust and longing, a sound. A soul piercing, faint sound, of Sai's phone ringing to the side, on the passenger seat. They both freeze in place, their heavy breaths out of rhythm. The phone keeps ringing, making Sai glance to the side, seeing the one name that could bring him back to earth from this ecstasy.

Nate.

This time however, the usual pang of guilt and nausea is absent from Sai's stomach, as he turns his gaze back towards Adam, the sound of the phone slowly becoming a muffled background noise, as they both lose each other in the depths of their eyes. Sai's expression says it all: Focus on me, only on me - his gaze tells Adam, as his fingers reach underneath Sai's coat, pressing against the delicate fabric of his shirt. Just me and you - his gaze commands, as Adam leaves the trail of kisses and bruised up marks against his skin. Just us, against this cruel world, this cruel fate, that bound us together - his gaze whispers, as Adam draws out a moan out of his lips, a sound he was so desperate to hear after all this time.

And the phone continues to ring.

[serenpedac]

This scientist crafts stunning visual art through chemistry.

[serenpedac]

I keep seeing those “which Ajah would [insert character here] belong to” polls so now I want to know: mutuals, which Ajahs would you put your Detective OCs in?

[serenpedac]

we need to bring back vintage swimsuits but specifically mens swimsuits

make 👏 men 👏 wear 👏 hotpants 👏 and 👏 onesies👏 again 👏👏👏

[serenpedac]

a du mortain who would never admit it but feels mildly offended when they don't get the chance to open the car door for their detective

a du mortain who checks if they've eaten, takes an interest in how to prepare their favorite foods and becomes invested in the detectives longterm health, often to a fault

a du mortain who grips their arms with care as they're guiding a tipsy detective across the parking lot, fending off clumsy affections with a flustered smile before buckling them in and taking them home

a du mortain stern and worried as they stress the importance of car maintenance while fixing up the hatchback yet again after coaxing it back to life on the side of the road earlier

a du mortain who would never admit it, but enjoys the warmth of human life around them as they follow the detective dutifully to any social function they've been dragged to. Sits by their side glaring off unwanted suitors half the time, and spends the rest trying not to wax poetics about the way the detectives thigh is pressed against theirs in the booth where they're sat side by side

a du mortain who rests one hand on the wheel, and another on the detective while driving. Their thigh or hand or otherwise, they like to show off. The sun highlights the hair on their arms and hair which casts them in a fiery glow, eyes bright and unburdened as they glance over at the detective in the leather seats of the car they fixed up together as a project.

[serenpedac]

Vieno and Murphy! Hmm, okay, okay, how about Vieno being the leak inside the Agency? Maybe they slipped some classified info to Murphy because they're secretly very close?

I kind of want to do a writing/thought process spin wheel for Wayhaven. Put every major/minor character on it and spin twice. How would a relationship between those two work, be it platonic, romantic, other? HMMMM