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queen-scribbles · 2 years ago

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Tongue-tied

Or, 6 times Jael almost told her best friend she loved him + 1 she did, for the @wayfarer-week 6+1 prompt, bc it fits too well for my poor smitten girl.

---

Jael’s heart first betrayed her a year before graduation, on an evening bathed in moonlight.

And it was so simple it almost made it worse. She and Aeran were up one of the abandoned towers in the Spire, their spot, talking about nothing and everything and eating toasted apples she’d liberated from the kitchen. Aeran laughed at something she said, and the way the moon’s glow caught him just then; easy smile and a twinkle in his eyes, sent Jael’s heart in a swan dive toward the ground several stories below. She almost dropped her apple after it when the warmth of realization hit. Moonlight looked good on him.

She must’ve stared too long, because Aeran snorted and nudged her knee with his foot. “I have apple on my face or something, Jae?”

For half a second she almost told him the truth. I really wanna kiss you right now. “Just enjoying the moonlight,” she said, biting fiercely into her apple and burning her tongue, “your face happens to be in the way.”

He rolled his eyes--“Oh, so it’s improving the view?”--and punched her shoulder and she played along.

The rush of... feelings, desire, whatever it had been, was safely buried by the time they finished their apples and went to bed.

Graduation was soon, even if she was reckless enough to gamble their friendship over a random crush(that would probably go away in a few days), this close to leaving wasn’t the time.

It’ll clear up, it’s better not to say anything.

---

Aeran found her sprawled in the grass, sunlight between branches above dappling her shirt as she stared at the shiny silver medallion now looped around her neck. “Leaving in the morning?”

Jael started and tucked the Wayfarer pendent inside her shirt. “Two more days. There’s some remedy Varyn wants me to have along that needs to finish brewing or something. What about you?”

He nodded, as she’d feared he would, as he flopped down next to her. His own medallion glinted briefly in the sun. “There’s a rumor out near Ilis. It sounds like a Wayfarer problem and Sero thinks I’m the answer.”

Something in her chest clenched. With so few Wayfarer, it made sense to send out more as soon as they were available. She’d just hoped for more time. Aeran was such a constant in her life, she hated the thought of losing him--even if she’d known this day was coming.

Her heart did an odd little twist at the thought of not seeing him after tomorrow, that he’d be gone from her life for who knew how long. “Aeran, I-”

‘-think I love you,’ but it was terrible timing, they were both leaving, she couldn’t drop that on him now. Especially if it was just a crush.

“-I’m gonna miss you, you know?”

“Ditto,” he said with a gentle smile, bumping his shoulder to hers. “Hopefully we’ll cross paths sometimes, but it’ll be weird not seein’ you every day.”

“Very weird,” she agreed, bumping his shoulder back. That was true, regardless of anything else.

Aeran chuckled and propped himself up on one elbow. “One last visit to our spot?”

Jael grinned, shoving him back into the grass as she scrambled to her feet. “Race you, Kellis!”

“You-!” There was a laugh in his voice. “Oh, you’re on, Aizura!”

It was so easy to pretend her pounding heart was from exertion rather than the sight of his full smile when he claimed victory. (Less easy to believe it, though)

---

It was three years before their paths crossed. Both heard the same rumor--a fannarl near Sarin--from opposite directions. Despite the years apart, it was easy as breathing to fight together. To fall back in synch, to work as one. Halves of a whole. The Masters would scold her for thinking like that; Wayfarer were by nature solitary. she shouldn’t be binding her effectiveness to another. She didn’t care. Not when Aeran sent her a grin flush with victory before moving to reclaim his spent arrows. Jael wiped dripping acid from her gear as she stepped to help.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your edge,” she teased, plucking an arrow from just below the fannarl’s eye.

“Or you your reckless streak,” Aeran retorted with a laugh. He braced one boot near the deep slash in the fannarl’s chest to pull out an arrow.

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me.” Jael grabbed another arrow from the beast’s flank, and another from the ground, grinning as she passed them all back. It was more true than her joking tone let on. Running into him like this had stirred up feelings she thought she’d relegated to daydreams. But they did make a really good team.

Aeran laughed and they sat, sharing a boulder, so they could clean their weapons.

“You don’t have to wait for me, if you have somewhere else to be,” Aeran said, clearing the blue-black ichor from his arrowheads. “I know this part’s boring for you.”

“I think I can tough it out,” Jael snarked, wiping down her blade.

“When you have such wonderful company?” Aeran paused to bump her shoulder.

“Exactly.” She fell silent, watching him as he worked. His tan was deeper, the muscles in his arms more defined than when they’d parted, and she had to very deliberately push down the flutter in her gut.

So, that crush is still there...

And it stayed a flutter in the background as they finished cleaning weapons and headed back into town, as they found somewhere that would serve them and shared a drink before heading separate ways. Persistent and annoying in its subtlety until the words blurted unbidden from her mouth.

“Hey, Aeran?”

“Hm?” he grunted over the rim of his mug.

But no. No, she couldn’t bring this up now. That was silly.

“...Got any badass stories?”

He set down the mug and grinned. “I’ll share mine if you share yours.”

“Deal.”

---

The next time she saw him, her emotions were already raw. Not an open wound, but a bruise subjected to unnecessary poking.

Her door was half open, his knock cursory.

“Heard you were here,” Aeran said, bypassing the perfectly good chairs to sit next to her on the bed.

“Yeah.” It was rare for Wayfarer to return to the Spire, Jael no more wanted to dwell on why it had been her instinct to do so after this mission than she did on the miracle of Aeran being here at the same time.

“Also heard you cornered your prey neat Brennath,” he commented.

“Yeah.” She was quiet for a long moment, and he let her be and she loved him more for it. “I didn’t visit them.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched her turn her medallion over and over in her hands.

“I was tempted,” she admitted, tracing the Wayfarer sigil. There was so much she wondered about the place she once called home. What had changed. What was the same. “But I didn’t.”

Sated curiosity wasn’t worth the ripping open of old wounds, the hurt that was likely to come with it.

“I don’t blame you,” Aeran said softly, giving her shoulder a gentle nudge.

She slipped her hand in his. “Don’t need them, anyway. No point looking back.”

Aeran squeezed her hand. He knew how she’d wondered. How she’d dreamed. How much this choice had hurt even if it was the right call.

“‘M glad I have you, Aeran,” Jael mumbled, nudging his shoulder back. Glad enough she wasn’t going to ask why he was here, just be grateful.

“Yeah.”

The confession sat on the tip of her tongue, but something held it back. She wasn’t sure what; maybe the same fear that kept her from visiting her clan. Wondering was better than rejection.

She got her second tattoo before she set out again, a raven on her shoulder, to acknowledge her past and how it shaped her. If Aeran noticed the raven was posed as if landing on her other tattoo--the geometric lines that mirrored his--he didn’t say anything.

So Jael didn’t either.

---

The words were almost driven from her, unbidden, at Karth. Between the strength of her relief and the strength of Aeran’s hug, the confession teetered on spilling free.

I thought I lost you, I’m pretty sure I love you, I don’t want to hide it anymore-

But a shudder rippled through their hug, though Jael couldn’t tell if it came from her or him, and she buried her face against the side of his neck.

He was here. Aeran was here, warm and solid and alive, even if he wasn’t the same. There would be time another day.

For now she was going to hug her best friend and thank the stars she still had him.

---

“So what do you think we’ll find in Velantis?”

Jael leaned cautiously against the ships rail. The bandages were off, her strength mostly returned, but two things remained--the marks of the basilisk’s coils just below her ribcage and the shift in Aeran’s demeanor. There’d always been a level of casual affection between them; bumping shoulders, side hugs, hands or knees brushing when they sat together.

But it was different since boarding the Dareia; a tenderness in his touch, a lingering to his looks, hardly leaving her side. Jael was pretty sure she knew the reason. It had been her call(fuck the Count, fuck the chalice, fuck this miserable swamp of a city) and he’d followed because she talked him into it and she’d almost gotten herself killed. Dwelling on the hypotheticals of why that made him like this was a hope Jael didn’t want to give herself unless it was going to go somewhere.

So she’d stick to more solid, relevant hypotheticals instead.

“Oh, you know. Money, power, corruption. Guild mages.” Aeran practically spat the last one as he joined her, so close their shoulders brushed. “Just an all around good time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Jael said lightly, curling her pinkie around his.

“I feel so much better,” he snarked, but something in his eyes said he at least halfway meant it.

“I’ll always have your back, Aeran,” she emphasized, leaning into their contact.

He sobered, staring out through the ocean spray. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jae.”

She opened her mouth to insist she’d keep this one if it killed her, tell him why, but another voice cut across before she got a word out.

“Wayfarers!” Malsara called, “Zenaida would speak with you.”

With matching sighs and a final grin, Jael and Aeran pushed away from the rail to follow.

This was for the best, Jael told herself as Aeran’s fingers brushed the back of her hand. She really should wait.

---

They were batched in moonlight, again, when her resolve broke. Her walls and worries had been worn down by this fucking day; Quirinus, the gala, Velantian politics, Lethalis.

Their fight.

She’d heard it was the ones you knew and loved who could hurt you the deepest and Aeran had proved it tonight in spades. But she still loved him, bone-deep and inescapable, which was why she was here instead of some party. Standing in one of the most luxurious rooms she’d ever seen, highlighted by soft moonglow as her best friend looked at her with tears in his eyes and apologized.

“I could never hate you, Jael.”

And the truth finally bubbled unhindered to the surface as she dug her fingers into his wonderfully curly mop of hair and tugged him in for a kiss.

A wordless confession, but all they needed right now.

They knew each other that well.

And her heart sang with joy unspeakable when Aeran melted into her and kissed her back, fingers tangling in the draped fabric of her serithan.

Finally finally finally.

Her hand cupped his cheek, his the back of her neck, foreheads touching as their breath mingled.

“Aeran.”

“Jae.”

“I just want to be here with you tonight.”

“I’d like that.”

And for just that night, no matter what came with morning, everything felt right with the world.

#queens fic #jael aizura #aeran kellis #wayfarerweek #wayfarer if #jael/aeran #my girl is strapped into the clown car and determined to ride it off the cliff #so--apparently--am i🤡

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samskaterguy · 2 years ago

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Three Days Grace's song Just Like You but Raven and the Evil Queen

#oo i am so ill about this #I'd make an animatic if i knew how #eah #ever after high #raven queen #the evil queen #eah the evil queen #ever after high the evil queen #snow white #snow white and the seven dwarfs #snow white and the 7 dwarfs #music #let raven be PISSED at her mom i think #i was listening to it in the car and i was like ooooo mommy issues

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the-starry-seas · 2 months ago

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bold take of the night but modern au jango would aboslutely have done FFA

#jango fett #i am NOT writing an au where ffa!jango keeps beefing with demo derby!obi-wan when they keep meeting at the same fairgrounds #qui-gon day drinking in the stands from something with an umbrella while his teenager fucks around in a shitty derby car he welded himself #there's complicated mandalorian lineage dynamics happening bc jango's parents are alive but jaster did still adopt him that one time #jaster has a bunch of friends on the rodeo and demo derby circuits and jango has Opinions about 4h/ffa being Superior #jaster and qui-gon are friends for. purposes.#jango hates it so much but his buir is not listening to lil mr cranky #jango is also cheering jaster on for all the roping events and is Not looking at whatever Those People are doing over there with cars #jango on horseback and turned around in the saddle to mock obi-wan for his car breaking down on the side of the road #and then his mama bitches him out for being rude and that's how they have the most silent awkward horseback ride either have ever had #mama is also enjoying herself immensely with Meddling #arla is having no part of this bullshit. she is showing her goats and ignoring everything else. queen of staying in her own lane.

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chaosfairy18 · 3 months ago

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So I'm watching Smallville with my mom because for her it is nostalgic and well we both like DC shows for the most part and it is wild to see Clark Kent - later Superman - while possessed by the ghost of a mean girl who wants to be prom queen, scream - in a high-pitched voice: "THAT'S MY CROWN YOU BITCH!"

It's beautiful

#that show is a trainwreck but I am here for it #also Lana Lane (not related to Lois Lane) has dated Damon Salvatore and Dean Winchester #she is winning #also the wannabe prom queen is not dead she is in a coma after a car accident she caused where she ended near green Kryptonite #which #that thing makes everyone in smallville into people with sometimes the weirdest powers #I respect that

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telltaleanatomicalheart · 11 months ago

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i remeberi just bought simply two chess pieces from goodwill when.i was six. chess has always called to me

#i lost them in my dads car but whatever #i remeberr the old heads that would play chess by the park. there was the little clocks and the tables has a built in board and there would #be competitions at night #childhood memories coking back to me i must be healing. its that no contact air. a little something called freedom #i am literally the queens gambit or whatever

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checkeredflagggs · 8 days ago

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Please Don’t

Pairing: max verstappen x girlfriend!reader

summary: max didn’t realize that an increase of pregnancy hormones would also mean an increase in willingness to fight people in his behalf…or the 5+1 fic of fighting people for love

a/n: seriously redbull??? This was not what I had planned next but c'est la vie…

a/n2: I have a request for another piece of this series that I’m really looking forward to writing — there’s a little Easter egg for that in this one!

a/n3: congrats max!

Masterlist | Taglist

Duckies Rookies Masterlist

Private Messages, Max and y/n

liked by user, y/n, user, and 934,821 others

f1: BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced

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user1: NOOOOOOO

↳user2: what the fuck

↳user1: I am utterly heartbroken

user3: did you see the paddock this weekend??

↳user4: it’s obvious they all knew even if it wasn’t said…

↳user5: I’m so fucking mad — they didn’t give him a proper goodbye! 😡

user6: Danny legit looked like he was gonna cry…

↳user7: I don’t fucking blame him

↳user6: fuck redbull

↳user7: fuck marko and Horner

user8: ok but did anyone see y/n??

↳user9: she was not fucking around this weekend

↳user8: I didn’t even think she was supposed to be in Singapore?

↳user9: I didn’t either — I thought max had said she was still back in Monaco

↳user8: do you think that she flew last minute just to be there for Daniel?

↳user9: oh my god

user10: omg i was in the paddock this weekend and y/n was a BEAST. she showed up, she verbally flayed the redbull management, she slayed, then she left

↳user11: you have to spill everything!

↳user10: ngl I couldn’t hear everything but when she saw Horner I swear to god she pulled something out of her purse and threw it at him

↳user11: what a fucking Queen

↳user10: they disappeared back into the garage proper after that but man…

user12: raise your hand if you’re not shocked y/n went to bat for Danny 🙋🏾‍♀️

↳user13: 🙋🏻‍♂️

↳user14: 🙋🏼‍♀️

↳user15: I’m a new fan — why aren’t we shocked?

↳user12: don’t worry hun I got you — Danny and max are really close (going back to their days together in redbull)

↳user12: and y/n has said multiple times that she thinks of Danny as an big brother — he’s stepped in and helped her out with a few things over the years apparently

↳user12: and she’s been very vocal in previous years (against McLaren 🤮) about how certain teams have treated Danny — who’s given so much to the sport

↳user15: ooooohhhhhhhh thank you!!

↳user15: then 🙋🏽‍♂️

y/n

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,823,193 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

y/n: THATS MY MAN!! I GUESS WINNING IN THE FASTEST CAR ISNT FOR EVERYONE HUH?

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user16: damn Queen 👸🏻 dragging team principals all over the grid

user17: ok but is it just me or is y/n dodging the drinks tonight?

charles_leclerc: Congratulations!

maxverstappen1: mijn leeuwin…really?

↳y/n: THERES MY CHAMPION!!!

↳y/n: YOU DID JT!!

↳y/n: AND SOMEONE HAD TO SAY IT

↳maxverstappen1: 😂😂

lewishamilton: A well earned win man 🖤

user18: am I missing something? Was there something funny about her caption?

↳user19: haha a little bit — Brown (McLaren’s ceo) had made a comment previously that max only won WDC with the fastest car

↳user18: ohhhhh! So she’s pretty much saying suck it?? liked by y/n

↳user19: knowing y/n? Yes

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user20: oh my god this is exactly what I needed #teammax

user21: come on max went too far — to put George’s head into the wall?? #teamgeorge

↳user22: oh come on — we all know that’s a load of shit #teammax

user23: can I say something?

↳user24: go for it

↳user23: I’m #teamy/n cause I know max wouldn’t do anything but race his best but y/n? Oh she’s got that rabid energy to her

↳user24: bold but I agree

↳user25: I’m sat. I’m seating. I need to know how y/n responds

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, The Pride

assholegossippage

liked by user, user, user, and 1,293,933 others

tagged: y/n

assholegossippage: y/n l/n, longtime girlfriend of F1’s World Champion Max Verstappen, looking disheveled as she shows off her pregnancy belly

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user26: wow

↳user27: I’ve never seen such a fucking asshole comment before

maxverstappen1: Have fun hearing from my lawyers.

↳user28: Max I’m gonna need you to fucking bury them

↳y/n: Max!

liamlawson30: What fucking bullshit is this??

↳isackhadjar: Why would you say something like this?

↳user29: loving the kids coming to mom’s defense!

↳isackhadjar: Of course we are!

↳y/n: let’s not pick to many fights guys…

olliebearman: This is such disappointing behavior ☹️☹️

↳y/n: It’s fine Ollie

↳olliebearman: It is not!! They have no right!

↳user30: You tell them Ollie!

jackdoohan: Trying to shame a pregnant women for going outside? Do you have no shame??

↳gabrielbortoleto_: obviously not…

↳y/n: you guys…

↳user31: when they’re protective…

kimi.antonelli: Che essere umano disgustoso! What a disgusting human being!

↳y/n: Kimi…

↳kimi.antonelli: No! They can’t say these things!

Private Messages, The Pride

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @evie-119 @sugarfreerbr @princessesgarden @tukes @mayax2o07 @teti-menchon0604 @galaxygurlll @star73807-blog @shelbyteller @ihaveitprinteddout @lilymaleshka @kuolonsyoja @allthings-fandom @mountainshuman @hannahmotors10 @moonypixel @dying-inside-but-its-classy

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago

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The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

youtube

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

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#Family Lore #Dogs #It's Halloween babey #friday the 13th #blood mention #I hope that kid had a good night and at least one of his friends believed him #Long post #Video

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