#wellies experience this

[be-bisexual-eat-hot-chip-and-lie]

i felt the spirit of eric bittle today

i was at a pregame tailgate, getting tipsy at 10 am, and offering timbits to random strangers

[imababblekat]

Vicarious Happiness

Anon Request, “Hi!! I love your work so much and I hope your doing wellI have a request if thats cool, it's fluffy raphael x reader(she/her) and it's like raph being all soft for once and letting his gard down and laughing and his brothers seeing this and they get all sappy”

~xXx~

It was the sounds of loud, hardy laughter that drew Leo from his once peaceful meditation. He knew that laugh and felt a familiar agitation itch at his mind, wondering what prank Raphael had pulled on Mikey this time. However, when he stepped out into the main living portion of the lair, he was quickly surprised to find the red banned turtle to not be cackling at his youngest brothers peril, but instead joyfully laughing along with you. While his laughter was louder and much deeper, no one could miss the cherry colored blush of your face as you laughed equally along. The leader of the four brothers made his way over to the kitchen, where he had spotted his two other siblings apparently watching the wholesome scene between Raph and the brothers close friend. “Donnie, you didn’t drop laughing gas again did you?”, Leo questioned with a raised brow and covering his snout. Hazel eyes glared behind self made classes. “I’ll have you know that was Casey’s fault! Also, no, I didn’t. Why do you ask?” Rolling his own eyes, Leo pointed a thumb over to where you and Raph sat close on the couch. “I ask because I’ve never seen Raph like that unless he did something. What’s up with him?” “Can’t you tell?”, Mikey jumped in with a swoon, batting non-existent lashes at Leo, “What’s up with Raph is (y,n)!” Leo scoffed, shoving Mikey out of his personal space as the other wiggled his brows. “Wait, are you guys serious? I know the two are close, but Raph like that? No way!” The two youngest brothers only smirked at each other, Donnie then stepping over to throw an arm around Leo. “Au contraire, my dear brother. Just take a look for yourself.” Leo did, and as he took a moment to really examine the scene before him, it wasn’t long till he caught on just like Mikey and Donnie had. It was the way Raphael looked at you, as you babbled on about something random but dear to yourself. His eyes held a fondness so rarely seen for someone such as him, a softness to his gaze rather than typical annoyance. It was as though he was deaf to your words, instead memorized and taking to memory the way you shined and glowed as you spoke so excitedly. However, Leo was also sure that for you, Raph was also making an effort to remember each and every single one of the words your spoke. Your voice and tone sounding like a melody to the terrapin no doubt. His body language was also a dead give away. Rather than taut or imposingly flexed, Raph sat comfortably with an air of, dare Leo even think it, vulnerability. There was not a sense of guardedness, no such thing as what he gave even around those he considered friends. With an arm slung over the couch and just an inch from being wrapped over your shoulders, an amorous smile and wholesome gaze still on your fast talking self, it was as though in that moment you were Raphael’s entire world. A cheeky grin found its way to Leo’s face. While he was already thinking of ways to tease the broad ninja turtle later, he at the same time couldn’t help but feel a sense of joyfulness for the other. The honorary leader had always been of a realistic mindset, had always been one hundred percent certain that they would never get to experience the pleasures of normal people. While a few years younger version of him would have been skeptical and jaded of this situation, the current more mature him felt nothing but elation. He’d always expected out of any of them for Mikey to somehow end up with a human partner if anything, but seeing Raphael of all people, soft and full of passion, it truly made him happy for the brother he’d so often fight with. Glancing over to Donnie and Mikey, the fondness they each shared while also watching the deepening bond shared between you and Raphael, he had a feeling they felt the same.

~xXx~

[nipuni]

Time for an old school blog post, Hello!

Just various updates about life and shows and clothes and some photos! Adding a read more cut because I talk too much 😊

Happy equinox everyone!! The mild weather has been wonderful for daily park walks. We have been taking our meals outside as often as we can to make the most of it before summer scorches the land and all life. The longer days allow for a lot more wandering too but the imminent return of the heat is also making the longing to move up north worse by the day. We miss the choppy ocean and seaside cliffs 😭 We love the silence and the rain and the nippy sea breeze!! it's like being suspended in early spring for half the year and a rainy autumn the other half, Ideal if you don't mind humidity, but that's what wellies and flat caps are for. We have been looking for properties to rent to show up everyday so for now we lie in wait.

Speaking of nature, a few months ago we discovered a free app called Plantnet that you use to take and upload photos of plants, trees, flowers and it will identify them for you. You keep a log with their locations and can share them too to help contribute to each local biodiversity database. It feels like a pokedex for plants. There are many apps like this one to choose from too. It's been so fun learning what all these plants are called and memorizing them! I recommend it, is like a little educational side quest to take on while stretching your legs and getting some fresh air. This is not an ad I promise lmao I just think it's neat! kind of sad feeling the need to clarify that.

This weather is also making me want to start making outfit posts again! It's been so long since I made any!! my winter wardrobe is mostly long wool coats or capes and boots so the inspiration wasn't there but now I'm ready to pull out all my stuff back from under my bed storage and experiment again 👏 I've also been meaning to share some of Nicolas outfits for ages too so there is more variety, could be fun!

Speaking of clothes, lately I've grown more and more frustrated with how poorly most clothes fit me to the point where I'm considering learning how to make them from scratch. I usually have to take in the tops and hem the bottoms but most things I try on are just built weird even if I fix the size, or maybe I'm built weird! I think it may be both. Nicolas also said he would love to learn along with me so we will probably embark on that adventure soon. OH and on a short tangent, I got myself a sort of binder-like top that flattens the chest a bit and I'm loving it! I'm very flat already but what little bust I do have has always bothered me when I dress and I've found I feel a lot more comfortable in this type of top. I'm glad I tried it out so if you feel similarly you may want to give it a go too, see how it feels!

On the media side of things we have also been watching more of David Tennant's work. We are still very much in love with him to an embarrassing degree, you can probably tell if you follow me anywhere, my likes on twitter alone give me away alksjdf and Nicolas isn't any better! if he used social media his would look the same lmao.

Since my last report we have watched and absolutely LOVED "There She Goes" we already want to watch it again honestly. The family dynamics for all his characters are always so real and refreshing!! Their relationship with their wives especially are always so believable in every series we've seen, the comfort and camaraderie, the banter and just friendship! You can tell they enjoy each other's company, it feels true. I love it so much!!

We also watched "Inside man" which was..a very stressful mess but David was incredible as always, also very hot and very pitiful which is always great, and Stanley Tucci was on it! so that's also fun.

Then we rewatched season one of Good Omens and the first 4 seasons of Doctor Who, with all the extra content like the Confidentials, deleted scenes, video diaries and more, they are just so good!! our list of favourite episodes keeps growing, season four is incredible, we are loving all these seasons even more the second time around!! Now we are probably going to start watching either Classic Who or Torchwood, along with more of David's work. We were trying to pick what to watch during dinner the other day and Nicolas was like 'damn, David is not in this though, I miss him' and lmao same so now we just watch one show without him and one with him right after to cope 😂

OH we have also been doing more historical reenactment! Since the last one in the 20's we jumped back to Regency times. We have been putting our outfits together for a ball soon and hopefully another one in autumn in the UK 😊 1800 is the farthest back in time we've been yet so it's been fun doing research, finding pieces and learning the dances in class but also very hectic. I'll share more about this soon!

Then we also have a couple of 1900 events coming soon, so I'll be sharing more Edwardian looks as well, our favourite era!!

Anyway I think that's all for now, thanks for reading to whoever is doing so!! I know this is long and not a popular blogging format anymore but I enjoy it a lot, maybe some of you do too 🥰 I will reply to some messages soon, I'm so sorry I'm so bad at keeping up with those!! I've read them all and cherish every word 🥺 Thank you for supporting my art and shenanigans as always!! I hope you have a great week!!

[sugarsnappeases]

peter pettigrew

mil @static-radio-ao3 and i have been doing some deep thinking about our dear pete.......

primarily, we decided that he grew up w a lot of siblings, in a middle class family who lived on a farmhouse in the countryside with a wood nearby that they all spent a lot of time exploring. constant muddy wellies and scabbed knees from climbing trees and splashing about in the stream. the chaos of a busy house that's filled w love. think nanny mcphee, swallows and amazons, lost boys vibes

peter is the second oldest. and he's basically a mischievous little woodland sprite. like he's incredibly cherubic-looking and generally thought to be a ‘lovely, polite young man’, old ladies loooove to pinch his cheeks, but he's got this glint in his eye that's just a little too sharp, his laughter a little too mean, his pranks a little too cruel. and he's always up to one trick or another, plotting some mischief with one of his siblings.

when he gets to hogwarts and meets the other marauders, he's the one with that trickster experience, like actually who would the others have been pranking before hogwarts yk...... so i like to think that maybe pete was the one who set them off on their mischief and mayhem path, bc he loves having co-conspirators when he plays his silly little tricks on people. (also mil and i've decided that he and peeves got along swimmingly, and that pete was the one to convince the marauders to go into the forbidden forest the first time, and that he was very good at finding hidden corridors and rooms x)

but. at the end of the day. our peter is always more loyal to himself than to anyone else. he enjoys being a part of a group, and really it's all he's ever known (w his siblings, and then the marauders, and then later the death eaters) but when all is said and done, he's always going to put himself first and do what would best serve him.

and we don't think his betrayal of his friends was some huge premeditated thing. it's this kinda spur of the moment, whimsical, childlike impulsivity. and he sees a chance to get in w this new group - a group that's clearly powerful, and let's face it defo winning the war at that point - and be a part of Something and prove a point and Show Them All and he doesn't really fully think through what his actions mean....... which ofc leaves so much beautiful, interesting room for regret!!!!!

like. telling voldemort the potter's address is such an abstract kind of thing. he's not the one physically murdering them. so i think the realisation of what's he's done and what he's lost wouldn't really sink in until after he's cut off a finger and framed sirius and run away to live as a rat. direct quote from mil bc i think it's perfect: he comes down from the high of having won and he doesn't quite know what he's won but he doesn't have anyone to tell, anyone who will pat him on the back and ruffle his hair.

stage w no audience. yk the vibe. he’s won, he's proved Something, but there's nobody left to celebrate w him. he's lost something incredibly vital to him, the best years of his life. he hasn't got a Group anymore... and that's ultimately a part of why he eventually goes to bring voldemort back bc that's the only group he has left after everything. even if mil and i decided that at least one of his siblings should still be alive :)

also, before he brings back voldemort, his stay w the weasleys. a very similar vibe to the pettigrew household growing up and peter chooses to stay there w them for twelve years. bc it's comfortable and painful and maybe a form of denial or punishment or desperate longing for something that has long slipped away.......

anyway, i've only known him for two days but he is infinitely precious to me :))

[thatgirlwithasquid]

Dear Moor Monster of Mine

3,424 words || read on ao3

I've been meaning to write a wolfblood harringrove au for so very long, so I'm glad that the @harringrove-relay-race gave me the push I needed to finally put my ideas down!

This is the first chapter. The full fic will be up on my AO3, but I didn't want to post too much here haha :)

---

Since the series of incidents last year, Steve’s parents have been keeping an unbearably close eye on him. If you had asked Steve perhaps three years ago, he would have been overjoyed with having his parents around all the time. But, right now, making his walk of shame from the car park where his mam dropped him off to the school’s doors, he can’t bring himself to feel anything other than frustrated.

Instead of travelling away on one of their monthly ‘work conferences’, Steve’s parents have taken to staying home month-round. That now includes the full moons. 

When Steve was little he used to hate that his mam and dad left him home alone for such an important day. Sure, they made sure to get nice babysitters or arrange sleepovers for him with Tommy and Carol, but all he had wanted was to share that experience with them. It didn’t matter that he knew he couldn’t do the transformation yet and so couldn’t fully understand it all, they were still his pack and it felt like they just didn’t want to share something that fundamental to wolfblood life with him.

It was isolating and upsetting, no matter how many kisses or how much quality time his parents would try to repay him with upon their return. He just wanted to spend those days with them. But now? Now he would much rather be left alone to watch movies, hang out with his friends, and not have his trainers chewed-through by his mam’s overeager wolf self.

“Nice wellies, Stevie!” Tommy calls out from across the yard as Steve passes by.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” he huffs, striding on past to where Nancy and Jonathan are already waiting. 

Nancy doesn’t so much as spare him a glance as he comes to a squeaking standstill in front of them. She only manages a distracted ‘Hi, Steve’ as she continues flipping through her bag, clearly looking for something.

“Morning,” he answers anyway before turning to Jonathan.

He’s not looking at Steve either, too distracted by sending his choice of footwear a confused look.

“Planning on trekking through the woods later?” he asks by way of greeting.

“Monsters ate my shoes, had to make do with these instead.”

That makes Nancy’s head finally shoot up. For a moment, she gapes at him, flustered and speechless, before she composes herself with a sigh and a shake of her head. 

It’s then that she straightens up, shrugging her bag higher on her shoulder and brushing her hair back behind her ear. It opens her back into the group from where she had otherwise been sequestered off in her own mind. Steve grins at her.

“Don’t joke about stuff like that when Barb’s around,” she reminds him, expression friendly even in spite of her reproach.

“Don’t joke about what when I’m around?”

Well speak of the devil.

They all turn to Barb as she settles herself into their circle. Jonathan and Nancy look pained but Steve just throws an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a squeezing sideways hug.

“Nothing,” he dismisses. “Just the photography club.”

Barb rolls her eyes, leaning back in Steve’s hold to send him a look that says she doesn’t quite believe him. She doesn’t shrug out of his hold, though, and that might be enough to lighten his petulant mood. The pair of them have come a long way since the whole drama around him and Nancy dating, which is something he’s very glad for.

Losing Tommy and Carol as friends stung, no matter how much he knew it was probably for the best; they weren’t very nice people and being around that sort of character wasn’t doing him any favours, but they had been his friends for years. But cutting himself loose from them, and by apologising properly to Jonathan for being nasty about his brother going missing and to Barb for being such a douche, did bring him into a much nicer friend group.

“You’re not still on about that, are you?” Barb asks him.

“Always,” he replies with a grin, raising his brows. 

Okay, maybe he’s not fully lost all his douchey-ness, but at least now he can argue it’s just part of his charm. Barb just shakes her head and accepts it with a fond roll of her eyes. 

“You already have your own camera,” Steve continues, turning now to address Jonathan, “so it’s not like you need it to be a school club.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice for it to be.”

“Fine, but I still think I deserve more credit for joining.”

“You only put your name down on some paper,” Nancy points out, smiling indulgently at him.

“And wasn’t that to make up for you smashing my camera?” Jonathan pipes up.

Steve cups a hand over his heart with a wounded expression.

“Wow, I see how it is. And, for the record—” he drops his hold on Barb to lean in and jab a finger into Jonathan’s chest “—I replaced that camera, as you should all know. You use it all the time for your stupid club. And what’s the point of the school supplying you with stuff if you bring your own in anyway?”

No one humours that with a response. That’s fine, they’ve gone over this bickering a hundred times before. Steve only really brings it up to wind them up now—all in good humour! At the end of the day, he’s fine with being an on-paper member of their club if it helps them out or whatever, especially since he knows that the Photography Club is Jonathan’s favourite thing about school.

He owes them all as much as well, for continuing to let him hang around. They let him off the hook for last year with less grovelling than was probably deserved.

“Ah,” Barb jumps in. “Speaking of photography… you’ve got to see what I found this morning on the moors.”

She unearths her phone from her bag and Steve winces. Sure, it’s only been about a year that he’s known Barb, but he really has come to like her. 

The whole of Hawkins High has always known about her monster on the moors theory—hell, the whole town probably does—and Steve had laughed at it back then, like everyone else, but now Barb is his friend… It leaves a bit of a sour taste in his mouth to think of the way he’d acted about that before, and the way others still act now.

It was arrogance, that sort of reaction. Thinking he was better than her because of her theories. And it was him in particular who was more arrogant than anyone else, hiding behind it to ignore that twinge of anxiety. It was easier to dismiss it all as ridiculous. Steve hadn’t quite been cruel enough to laugh in her face, but he’d still snickered behind his hands with Tommy and Carol before him and Nancy had gotten together early last year. 

Now that he knows Barb, it’s definitely worse. With him being around her so often, it feels like he’s waiting for her to look at him a little too closely and see just what lies beneath the surface. And that’s something he really doesn’t want, not just for his own safety.

They had to come a long way to get to where they stand now, but she’s undoubtedly one of his closest friends. Her, Nancy and Jonathan. All three of them—despite their rocky time when Steve had thought Nancy was cheating on him with Jonathan—are the people he cares about most in this world. 

He really doesn’t want Barb’s obsession with her own ghost story to get in between them all, he couldn’t handle it if they decided he was still a monster even after everything.

“See?” Barb asks, shoving the screen of her cellphone in their faces.

On it, clear as day, is the photo of a paw print. Realistically, it could be anything so it shouldn’t matter… but Steve can’t help the small shudder of anxiety in his chest. It doesn’t even make sense! His parents couldn’t have been up in the moors to leave that—he would know—and there’s no other wolfbloods around for miles of their territory, so it’s got to be an animal. 

And yet.

“Um… What… is it?” Jonathan asks. “Just a paw print?”

Barb huffs, turning to show Nancy instead, who gives the photo a more genuinely intrigued look.

“ ‘Just a paw print’,” Barb grumbles. “This is proof.”

“It could be,” Nancy says, and Steve can tell that she’s serious. “I could also be a fox or something—”

“Yeah, or a stray dog,” Jonathan suggests.

Barb looks at Steve pleadingly, but there’s nothing he can say. He knows this isn’t what Barb wants it to be. It can’t be.

“We need more concrete evidence,” Nancy consoles her instead.

“But this still proves something,” Barb insists. “That there’s something up there.”

“Hey, Barbara!” Carol calls.

The group of them all turn to see Carol, Tina and Vicki walking up behind them.

“I saw something weird on the moors: you.”

The others snicker as they push past, making their way inside. Steve shoots them a sour look as they strut past.

“Whatever, Carol,” Jonathan sighs, never having enough energy to deal with her dramatics.

Steve can’t blame him, it seems impossible that he had been able to get used to what they were like.

“Ignore her,” Nancy tells Barb.

“I will. We’ll show her when we end up being right.”

Nancy nods with an unsettling certainty.

—

Walking in to their form room would be the same as usual were it not for the folder of posters Nancy finally unearths from her bag. She leafs through them, splitting the pile into smaller ones to hand to each of them. Steve accepts his own with a begrudging confusion, peering down at the sign-up sheets and trusting the others to guide his way through the halls.

“When did you have time to print these off?” he asks.

“I came in early,” Nancy tells him with a shrug. “My parents wanted me to show Mike around on his first day anyway, so I was in early.”

Steve hums.

“That’s right, you two—” he gestures between Jonathan and Nancy “—have your brothers starting year 7 now, right?”

Jonathan nods to him; “That’s right.”

They turn a corner, heading towards the stairs up to Mrs Click’s room.

“Why don’t you just get them to sign up for your club, then? They’re nerds. That way you won’t need to stick these up around school.”

Barb rolls her eyes as Steve reaches over her to wave his stack under Nancy’s nose. The brunette just bats him away with an unimpressed look.

“I don’t think they’d find that particularly… cool,” Jonathan answers in her stead, “hanging out with their older siblings.”

Steve shrugs. He can’t say he can relate, being an only child, but whatever, he can see where they’re coming from. 

Barb and Nancy are debating the best ways to go about getting new members for the photography club when Steve goes rigid. They take a few more steps before they realise he’s fallen behind and then, with curious eyes, turn back to call out to him.

Steve doesn’t hear a word of it. Something’s off.

An unusual scent roots him to the spot. He doesn’t know what it is—or maybe he does, but it can’t possibly be what he thinks. All he knows is that this has never been here before, and it shocks him with a deep sense of wrongness. It doesn’t belong there.

He needs to root it out.

An instinctive territoriality spurs him onwards, picking up his pace until his friends are following after him with confused shouts. He needs to find whatever left that scent throughout the school. It’s like he can see it, a trail of scent in the air guiding him to whoever or whatever left it.

“Steve?” Nancy is calling. “Steve!”

He just keeps moving, feet carrying him onwards. Turning down hall after hall, paying no attention to the loitering students he shoulders past. 

“Steve, you’re going the wrong way,” he thinks that might be Jonathan this time.

The bell rings and more students hurry through the corridor, dispelling the scent trail. If Steve had gone through his first transformation by now, he’d probably still be able to track down whoever left it from the lingering traces, but with his senses not being fully developed yet…

He stands still dumbly, staring ahead with a sense of uselessness. The wolf instinct within him feels unappeased.

“C’mon,” Jonathan coaxes, leading him back over to where Barb and Nancy stand looking concerned. “We’ve got class.”

It’s probably lucky for them all that the scent trail Steve was following didn’t create too big of a detour. As it stands, they get into Mrs Click’s class for form in the nick of time. The woman stands up at the front of the room, talking to an unfamiliar head of blonde curls.

At first, Steve notices nothing askew—Mrs Click is talking to the new student about how she is their form tutor and head of year—but then it washes over him. The adrenaline of nearly being late to his first lesson fades and that scent steals his attention again. 

He freezes in where he’s stepped aside to allow Barb to shuffle into their shared desk, eyes swivelling to that new figure. Now that he’s paying attention, it’s like the scent itself is visible in the air, clouding around him with that cloying wrongness and announcing to the world how wrong his presence here is.

There’s a cocksure smirk on his face that makes Steve’s lip curl in disdain, an instinctual need to snarl and warn off the outsider barely suppressed.

“Everyone, this is William Hargrove—”

“Billy,” the new kid buts in. “It's Billy.”

A chorus of ooohs rise from the room, students goading on the attitude shown to their teacher. For her credit, Mrs Click takes it in stride. Instead, she nods and turns to settle the class.

“Okay,” she says, raising her voice over the beginnings of chatter. “That’s enough, thank you…”

But Steve is barely listening. It’s like everything else fades away and his focus narrows down to this William—Billy—still standing at the front of the class. Like Steve’s whole world is overtaken by the beating of his heart and the inescapable smell of him, a smell that’s so familiar. Familiar in a way that has his hackles rising in unease. It’s almost like…

“You smell like my parents,” Steve blurts out, and the rest of the class starts laughing.

Nancy reaches over from her and Jonathan’s desk to yank him down into his seat by the hem of his jumper’s sleeve. She shoots him an unimpressed look as Mrs Click scolds him:

“Alright, Harrington. Sit down.”

Steve barely hears any of them, barely notices any of it. Billy’s eyes had locked on to his, deep and blue and endless. It felt like Steve was falling into them, diving head-first into their emptiness where Billy would eat him alive. 

“Steve,” Barb whispers, jabbing him with an elbow. 

It’s only then that Steve realises he’s been watching Hargrove as he walks over to an empty seat at the very back of the room. 

“What’s gotten into you?” she asks, sounding concerned.

“Nothing,” he dismisses, trying to turn and give her his full attention. “It’s nothing.”

He can’t get involved, not after everything. Steve has been working so hard to prove to his parents and his friends—hell, even to Tommy and Carol as they watch with a smug anticipation for his downfall—that he’s not the guy he used to be. That’s something he can’t just throw away by causing problems with the new kid, even if he’s breaking every rule Steve has ever known.

There’s no question that this Billy is a wolfblood like he is, like his family is. The question is what is he doing here? One doesn’t just set up themselves on some other pack’s territory, and the Harringtons have held the territory around Hawkins for centuries. 

By showing up here, Billy is throwing everything off balance, but Steve can’t risk doing anything about it. Not now, not like this. As much as Steve wants to step up and scare him off, this is something he’s going to have to leave to his parents to deal with.

Even as he feels the itch of Billy’s eyes on the back of his neck, Steve keeps on looking ahead.

—

Billy, so it seems, takes no time to settle into Hawkins. By the time lunch rolls around, he’s already settled himself pride of place between Tommy and Carol, a wolfish curl to his grin that flashes just a hint of canine. It’s so outlandishly taunting that Steve has to sit with his back to their table to avoid staring at his sheer gall.

Nancy and Jonathan are discussing the school paper when Steve decides he can’t stand this silence anymore. He tears his head around from looking over his shoulder after Billy’s eyes catch his and his smirk seems to dim.

“Where the hell did he even come from?” he asks, cutting off Jonathan’s suggestion about… actually Steve isn’t sure, something about a book of the week.

“Who?” Nancy asks and Steve jerks his head back to where Billy now keeps sending glances his way. 

He can feel the others’ gaze on him, like someone is brushing his fur the wrong way. 

“Billy,” he says, trying with great difficulty to keep his tone neutral. “Someone must have seen something. Moving vans or something. Anything.”

Jonathan just shrugs.

“Not that I heard. Seems like everyone’s interested in him now, though.”

Steve looks around again in time to see Tina and Vicki settle themselves in the seats opposite Billy and Carol, effectively severing Steve’s line of sight. He huffs and turns back around. At the very least, them blocking the way soothes that feeling of being observed.

When he meets her eye, Nancy has a concerned look on her face.

“Leave it Steve,” she warns, voice carefully neutral. “You don’t want to get caught up in any trouble again.”

He hears what she’s saying, even if she won’t just come out with it. 

I won’t put up with you if you act like an asshole again.

It rankles him. It’s not even like it’s him doing anything wrong here! He almost wants to tell her that, to point out that for once he’s not just being an asshole, but doesn’t dare. He can’t, he reminds himself.

He couldn’t tell Tommy and Carol—probably for the best given their massive fall out—and so he can’t tell these guys either. No matter what. Which means he just has to bite his tongue and mind himself. This is something he just needs to let lie and have his parents handle it.

They can reach out to Billy’s pack, he thinks. And then this will be sorted.

“And who’s that?” 

Billy’s voice is clear and quiet with consideration, cutting through all the background noise like he had whispered the words directly into Steve’s ear. He shouldn’t be able to hear it, but he can’t help himself from focusing his enhanced hearing to pick up the conversation.

“Him?” Tommy says, breaking off with a derisive laugh. “That’s ‘King Steve’, used to be top dog around here. The Harrington’s have lived here for years, one of those right old families and Steve acted like it until he got all soft and cosied up to Nancy. Well—” Tommy laughs again and Steve clenches his fist beneath the table “—until Nancy ran off after weirdo Byers, there.”

Billy hums, interested. He doesn’t say anything else, but Steve can feel the way his eyes linger on him for a long moment.

The canteen smells like the sweat of overcrowded kids as he takes in steadying breaths through his nose. Jonathan, Barb and Nancy chat on none the wiser. It takes a long moment, but Steve manages to reign in his self control and steel himself into an icy indifference.

It doesn’t matter what Tommy thinks of him. Steve’s moved on, he’s better than this now. And the new kid won’t be around for long. Wolfblood packs don’t mix; even if he’s here now, he won’t be for long. Him and his pack will be long gone by the end of the week.

---

Stick around to see what wonderful work @medusapelagia has put together for us next!! <3

[zolica-ao3]

Hi! 👋

I know u r not doing the whole season for ur fic, so here is an idea for a break away fic. Luca probably hasn’t had a good Christmas ever because of his mother. Lando and ocsar don’t know this and don’t understand why Luca doesn’t really care/like Christmas. They spend the fic trying to find out why while also trying to get Luca to like Christmas.

-G

Oh my- yes. Yes, this is a great idea!

And all the presents he gets from the huge family he has now, and the drivers on the grid joining in.

Oh, but then there is so much more I want to write. Because I love autumn with a passion and I used to collect chestnuts with my parents when I was little. We would make artworks with them. I want Luka to experience all the cute childhood joys.

- Jumping in puddles with rubber boots/wellies on

- going to the zoo together

- birthday parties with lots of friends

- ice skating with dad and papa

- when he goes on a field trip a couple years from now, and his dads have to come with

There is SO MUCH.

I will be finishing the main story first, but yes... I will be adding break away fics after for sure.

[ughgoaway]

have you ever thought about a time when Girlie is with Annie and Matty bathing the dog and it's a warm family atmosphere? and maybe then go to the park and play as a family.

Thank you so much for the cute idea 🪐 anon!! my random thoughts below the cut as always lol <3

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

anyway, yes, this is so fun to think about. I love anything with mayhem, and the image of you all trying to tackle him into the bath to give him a proper wash is so funny.

I can see Matty, mayhem, and Annie coming home from a walk, and to say they are muddy is an understatement. He calls you as they're approaching the house and tells you to prepare the bath; warning you that is officially time to bathe mayhem.

You try to avoid washing him at home as much as possible, sending him off to the groomers whenever you can. Not because you don't love him, but because he is fucking massive and it's somehow a three-man job. 

Getting Annie involved was the last solution after too many disastrous attempts, but you needed an extra pair of hands. And she was the only one in the house. But Mayhem loves her so much, so she's actually a pretty good distraction. 

You line the walk to the bathroom with towels and creek open the front door slowly, and your jaw drops at the sight in front of you. Mayhem is caked in mud, staring up at you with his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging wildy, splashing more mud around.

Matty and Annie were both wearing welly boots, and they were also covered in mud. Annie even had some in her hair, but those two could be dealt with later. Mayhem was your current mission.

“Oh my god. Matthew, how did it get this bad?” You ask in shock, flicking your wide eyes over the three of them.

“It's not my fault. I swear. Mayhem got out of his harness and ran into a muddy puddle. Me and Annie ran after him, but the puddle turned out to be a bit deeper than we thought…” Matty says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hands, but quickly snatching them away with a grossed-out look on his face when he feels the mud in his hair.

You sigh heavily at Matty and start gently guiding mayhem in the house as Annie holds his tail to stop him from wagging it and spraying mud everywhere.

Eventually, you get Mayhem safely in the bathroom after walking very slowly the whole time. You all know from past experience that if you walk too quickly, mayhem takes it as a queue to sprint at full force through the house and rub his face on the rug in the front room. 

You really tried to get the mud out last time, but it was a pointless task. Matty still claims you somehow planned it because you hated that rug. “How else did he get so muddy when it hadn't rained in weeks?” he accuses you time after time.

You deny it wholeheartedly, but you can't deny the feeling of joy you felt when you saw mayhem rubbing his whole body over it, and let's just say you definitely didn't do anything to stop it.

But you actually like the new rug you bought, so when you finally got mayhem in the bathroom this time, the three of you couldn't help but cheer as soon as the door clicked shut.

However, you forgot that any sort of excitement would hype mayhem up to no end, so as soon as he heard the cheers, he jumped on his hind legs and pounced onto Matty.

“Woah mayhem- WAIT NO-” Matty shouts.

Now, usually, Matty caught him quite well, keeping mayhem upright and balancing him perfectly on his chest. But this time, he wasn't prepared, and before you knew it, all you saw was a massive splash of water coming out of the bath as mayhem pushed both him and Matty in it.

You and Annie stood there in shock for a few seconds, but as soon as Matty sat up in the bath, covered in mud and bubbled. You all couldn't help but burst out laughing. Matty pouted, of course, but he soon realised that this kind of was the ideal way to wash mayhem. He could keep him calm as you and Annie scrubbed him.

“Right, Annie, will you grab the peanut butter for me, sweetheart? Your dad is on mayhem feeding duty today” you say, lathering up the soap between your hands as Matty uses a bowel to wet mayhem.

“Here you go, Daddy. Don't eat the peanut butter, though, mayhem licks from this one” Annie warns, holding the jar just out of Matty’s reach until he nods at her words. After she knows he heard her, she quite happily hands it over, grabbing the bowl from Matty’s hands and rinsing mayhem once more.

The four of you are all huddled either in or around the bath, scrubbing mayhem and watching the mud pour off him. Matty sits in front of him, holding the peanut butter jar in front of his face so he can happily lick inside the jar whilst you clean his paws.

“Daddy you look silly in the bath with Mayhem.” Annie giggles as she scrubs Mayhem’s head, giving him a mohawk with the bubbles that form. 

“I know, i know. Will you go grab my camera for me, sweet girl? I wanna get a photo of us all” matty asks, smiling down at mayhem with too much love in his eyes, considering mayhem had bowled him over not even 10 minutes earlier.

Annie scampers off and grabs the camera, leaving you and Matty alone in the bathroom. 

“You do look quite stupid in the bath, you know?” You tease, grinning down at Matty and watching him roll his eyes and hold in a laugh.

“Quite dilfy too, though” you add on thoughtfully, looking at how Matty’s soaking white shirt was starting to become completely transparent, and you couldn't help but gawk at the way his tattoos became more visible beneath the wet fabric. Matty pulls his shirt off cheekily, dropping it on the floor next to him before teasing you back.

“Mmm, I always look dilfy. S’how I got you, anyway” Matty gives you a smug smile, and you can't help but kiss it off his face, humming happily as you feel his lips working against yours. 

You both get a bit lost in the kiss, and soon it becomes a little desperate and breathless, all tongues and teeth as poor mayhem has to stand there are witness it all. But it soon enough gets interrupted by Annie walking in, and very eloquently proclaiming “ewwww!!”

You and Matty both laugh against each other's lips, and you feel a bit dizzy when you pull away, having to blink a few times before you bring yourself back to earth. 

You quickly snap a few shots with Matty's Polaroid camera; a selfie of you all, and a picture of annie grinning next to mayhem with his bubble mohawk. But, you get a particularly cute one of Matty and mayhem and you can't help but sneak that one away for yourself.

(ik this is not actually mayhem in this picture… but let's all use our imaginations <3)

You eventually get him all washed up and wrangle him out of the bath onto a towel. however, as soon as things are slightly too quiet and still, you can see the mischief brewing in mayhems eyes.

“Mayhem… no. don't even think about it” but he is a dog after all, so he ignores you completely. And soon enough, he's shaking every single drop of water off his body and onto the three of you.

The only thing that's heard in the bathroom is all of your screams, Annie runs behind the bathroom cabinet in an attempt to hide from the spray, but alas, there is no escape.

After far too many seconds for your liking, he stops shaking. And is looking at Matty with his mouth open in a smile and with a wagging tail.

“You're so lucky you're so cute, mate,” Matty sighs.

“Bloody horse dog,” you mumble under your breath, looking in the mirror at your now dripping wet hair.

Annie simply giggles, grinning as she bends down to give mayhem a hug and squealing when he starts to lick her face. you forgive mayhem pretty quickly after that, blowdrying him, yourself, matty, and annie in a row and snapping another picture of you all.

Now, as for going to the park after, I think you try to avoid it for a few days, trying to keep him clean as long as possible. But before the week is over, all four of you are running around in the mud together like crazy people, and you don't even think about the carnage this is all gonna cause.

[gingaaaaa]

I can confirm that whenever I listen to Welly Boots, the outside world does not matter, the volume goes on full and I have a fucking religious experience

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Super random question: from one of your fics, what was that species of melon that Matt was trying to grow when he was staying with Arthur in England? What is its significance to Matt?

Trigger warning for pretty bad emotional neglect of a child, non graphic illness and some shockingly nice headcanons.

And ah, the Montreal melon. It's a type of muskmelon or honey dew or honey rock from Canada around the Montreal reason and it's a bit peppery! Like a sweet slightly tart nutmeg flavour. It's one of those few things that Matt just... really associates with one of the somewhat rare fucks given about him lol.

It's supposedly from the 19th century but there are images of it or something very similar going back quite a bit earlier. That headcanon post thing was in early spring in the late 18th or very very early 19th century. Matt's under Arthur's roof because the economy sucks ass after the American revolution so it's not worth the money to really do anything with him. Arthur's vaguely hoping Francis will buy him back lol. So no one much pays him much mind, he's more or less left to his own devices so he tries to keep himself entertained and productive and out from underfoot. Wars with France are going full tilt again so no one wants to socialize with the French welp.

He does his work, doesn't complain, cries outside if he's sad or homesick or lonely so he doesn't get on anyone's nerves. He eventually rescues the cat from the dairy yard that Arthur lets him keep but it's in one of these episodes of loneliness one of the gardeners asks him if there's anything he'd like to put in the garden that year and Matt asks for the nutmeg melon. The gardener doesn't want to risk square footage on something he hasn't tested so he says if Matt can grow it somewhere and prove it'll do all right, he'll put it in the garden. So for a year or two, at the very end of winter he's always out in the mud beyond the back garden where he won't get yelled at trying and failing to start up his melons. They keep dying and he's sad lol. They need a green house but he's not really allowed in there with his stupid little experiment.

But they're dead, he flops over ill with the economy in the gutter and gives up. In a whim while on a walk, Arthur follows the cat outside one day into the parkland beyond the gardens, finds Matt's little failed attempt and, pulls up some not entirely mud rotted melon vines and hands it over to the greenhouse. He vaguely recognizes it as one of Matthew's silly attempts to grow something in the windowsill and well he's been even mopier than usual so maybe if it lives he'll stop being so bloody depressing. Matt's kind of stopped doing anything except his work, sluggishly dragging himself to get the eggs and feed the chickens and other poultry.

He kind of just falls over in a feverish heap one day, one of the staff puts him to bed and they're kind of at a loss "who's even in charge of this one?" The uncle who's expressed half a fuck is overseas, Admiral Kirkland hasn't so much as mentioned the boy. He's just kind of there? But someone finds Rhys down in the valleys with the sheep so he marches back up to the house, doesn't even take his wellies off, and tells Arthur off because he is in charge of the lad and it's not as if Francis is going to take him back in the middle of another war for Christ's sake.

So Arthur tells the household to go feed the lad something decent and checks in on him. He's not too poorly off just sad, weak and a bit miserable but Arthur sits down to chat a bit, make sure he's not about to have to clean up a death and Matt just kind of leans over and kind of wants to be held. Arthur's not really... there yet with him so he just awkwardly, if gently scolds him to get back under the covers, he's getting too old for this kind of nonsense anyway. Matt apologizes, rolls back over and curls back up. Arthur gives him an awkward pat and grimaces about the show of what for Arthur at the turn of the 19th century is practically hysteria. Good lord, that was awkward and undignified. Matt just kind of unravels. Nothing matters, much less him. Not a serotonin in this kids body. He misses Alfred like mad, he hasn't had a letter from his uncle in a year. He feels like shit so he just kind of starts shutting down. Fever spikes, he doesn't start hallucinating but he's confused and crying a lot and no one really wants to do much about it so again someone tells Arthur about it and he kind of sighs "very well, easier than paying off witnesses to a resurrection." Hauls him over to the actual family side of the house, and tries to get his temperature down and indulges the incessant need for human contact the boy wants. And lord, it's annoying how much Arthur enjoys parenting but much resistance he puts against having another child but even his anglo ass is kind of touched by how much Matt enjoys his father's company. He's yours you dumb ass!!!! Love him a little and he'll do whatever you want for centuries!!! Long before antibiotics or even real painkillers all Arthur can really do is ply him with Willow bark tea and keep him company and that makes most of the difference. Like oh, surprise, some basic affection gives him the will to live. Who'd've fucking thought? When he's feeling a bit better, Arthur starts stashing him in the library near his desk piled up with blankets by the fire and Matt is more interesting than he's ever been. He sleeps and reads mostly but occasionally asks questions and perks up. Takes a bit, pre modern medicine but he hops too it just in time for spring and oh, well look at those melons coming from hot houses now. They'll have to plant a few rows! Cue getting barrelled into and squeezed and having one whole feeling about making Matthew happy.

So voila, melons are love.

[background-noise-headache]

You know those moments where you’re listening to a song you know and some new context info clicks into place and you unlock a new meaning behind a lyric?

Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil is playing in my head and I’m doing that thing where I hear/say a lyric like the title of a fanfic or a chapter title and-

‘What’s it like?’ the children ask

It’s just like falling snow

And it’s always been clear that Welly Boots is about the feeling of grief and being left behind when someone dies, but when I listened to it in 2020 I hadn’t lost a loved one to death before. And every summer since then I’ve lost a loved one

So falling snow feels different this time. It’s always been an abstract thought because I’ve never experienced snow falling, it doesn’t snow where I live. But I pictured it like I imagined,

It’s not a single snow flake, a single moment. It’s traces of the same substance spreading out all around you. Remembering my loved ones feels like that. There’s a little trace of them everywhere and they happen in unpredictable moments. The snowflakes are everything that reminds you about the person you miss

It’s almost midnight and that slow sinking realization three years later made me cry a little and I need the knowledge of that experience to live somewhere more semi-permanent than my brain

[renee-writer]

A Rescue Chapter 51

AO3

“We are in sight of the house.” He breaths against her neck. Not the best place for a first coupling, not the bed he had in mind.

 

Not that his mind was in charge right now. A more lower part of his anatomy wants to call the shots.

 

“Right,” she moves her body, taken his with her, to a more concealed area of the garden, “better?”

 

“Not the…” she is kissing on his neck making it hard to think.  The want is overwhelming. Seeing his granny ‘s ring on her finger makes it even more so.

 

“Please, please!” Her words and her body are pleading to him. He gives in.

 

“Better?” He hadn’t  made love to her. Had he a wellie handy, he probably would have. He did, however, see to her.

 

“Much. I never knew, I mean,” a shake of her head, “you read about such things but to experience it…”

 

“Wait,” He lays on his side, head propped up on his hand and studies her, “you never had?”

 

“He, as I am sure you can imagine, wasn’t the most giving lover.”

 

“Aye, I can. I am sorry you were deprived of pleasure but glad I am the first to give it to you.”

 

“It was,” A sigh as she stretches, “an amazing thing.”

 

“I have an idea,” he watches her rearrange her clothes, “I believe you will like it.”

 

“Anything like that and I am sure I will.”

 

He laughs. “Oh plenty more of that. The idea, a way to be married in a way that won’t  bring PTSD.”

 

She is intrigued. “Listening.”

 

“The lass that last wore your ring,” He captures her hand and kisses it, “My great-grandmother, she wasn’t married to my great-grandfather, not at first, not in the way the state would recognize anyway.

 

No, they were joined in a much older ceremony. They were hand fast. It is a commitment ceremony allowing the couple to be wed under the old clan ways, for a year and a month. A way for the couple to be together before a priest could satisfy it.”

 

“If I am not ready to be fully married after those thirteen months?”

 

He brushes the hair he disturbed out of her face. “Then we do it again. There is no limit to the times we can be hand fast. We can make it part of our anniversary every year if you wish.”

 

Her breath catches even harder than it had when his hand was buried between her legs. “My darling man, yes please. Let’s do that.”

 

His eyes close in thankfulness. “Aye, I will make the arrangements.”

[floaroma-sanctuary]

Adoption Spotlights

Listed below are Pokémon currently available for adoption from Floaroma Sanctuary that we have featured in our adoption spotlights. This is not reflective of ALL of the Pokémon currently available at the Sanctuary. If you have any inquiries, please message the blog anytime or stop in to the Sanctuary Monday-Friday, 8 am to 7 pm, or Saturday, noon to 5 pm!

Dimple and Dot the Dittos (bonded pair) Pear the Cacturne (battling only) Racket the Scorbunny (non-contests) Merry the Cubchoo (anxious, companion only) Zeus the Flaaffy (livestock adoption only) Wiggles the Scatterbug (suitable for battling, contest, and companionship) Bertie the Magneton (non-contests) William the Shiny Magby (non-contests) Halo the Kirlia (seeing eye guide) Chowder the Munchlax (allergy alert Pokémon) Lyra the Jigglypuff (narcolepsy service Pokémon) Candy the Cherrim (non-battling) Mary the Kangaskhan (companion only) Rouge the Shiny Liepard (suitable for battling, contests, and companionship) Lavinia the Roselia (suitable for battling, contest, and companionship) Powder the Frosmoth (companion only) Cadenza the Primarina (contests only) Wellie and Galosh the Shellos (great travelers!) Spike the Larvitar (Experience preferred) Thimble and Theft the Mareanies (experience preferred, not bonded) Equinox the Solrock and Solstice the Lunatone (bonded pair) Smoky the Sandshrew (suitable for battling, contests, & companionship) Diana the Nidoqueen (Senior Pokémon) Oliver the Rowlet (suitable for battling, contests, & companionship) Sassy the Totodile (non-contests) Jester the Gengar and Missy the Espeon (bonded pair) Timmy the Toedscool (disabled, no experience necessary) Melody the Milotic (non-battling) Cheddar and Colby the Tandemaus (immunocompromised) Addie and Susie the Plusle and Minun (bonded service Pokémon) Crystal the Froslass (suited for battling, contests, & companionship) Arthur the Aerodactyl (suited for battling & companionship)

[survivingandenduring]

Hi fellow Scout! In honor of the asknado, I was wondering...

What Pedro character would you want to go to a concert with? Bonus points for what band you'd see. 🌪️

Ooooh great question!! I love music, across a lot of genres soooo….

Firstly i’m going to use my Bill n Teds time machine to go back in time to Glastonbury’98. Pack your wellies lads; it was a muddy one 😆

And I’m cheating and taking Marcus P, Joel, Dieter and Whiskey (because he never did get the full Glastonbury experience and he deserves it)

Well it is a festival so we’re going to have fuuuuuuuuun

And I’m sure we’ll have to dig Dieter out of the mud at some point 🤭

[alianoralacanta]

My First Race (13-03-2007)

Context: While waiting for the 2007 season to start, there was a forum thread about the first race everyone had attended live. This was before I could travel to races independently, but I did have a story to tell (even if the flies get more of a starring role than Michael Schumacher did), and it was long enough to need to go on my blog…

Warning! Long post alert!

I'm still waiting for my first GP race, but Dad did take me to the 2002 British GP qualifying. Boy was it a memorable day!

Having done my last GCSE exam the previous morning, I got home to discover that Dad had got qualifying tickets at the last minute (two friends had tickets, but couldn't go for reasons I never established). We promptly spent the next few hours getting necessary supplies - stuff for making sandwiches for lunch, earplugs for my rather sensitive ears, wellington boots that didn't have holes in them (in case of mud) and a little bag that folded out into a seat.

Waking up at 4:30am the next day, Dad and I were in our hitherto reliable red Volvo on the road to Silverstone by 6:00am. Everything was going fine and I was just remarking about how little traffic we'd seen when the fan belt went on the Volvo. It was 8:05am and we were just about to leave the M1. After a long wait and an even longer journey in a breakdown vehicle, we eventually found ourselves in Lutterworth at about 8:40am. Fortunately the local garage fixed the problem very quickly, an event Dad attributed to us telling the garage that we were heading for Silverstone…

We finally got to the track just in time to see Eddie Irvine's Jaguar go down the back straight for the last time in the morning practise. After that, we walked halfway round the track to see the paddock, with armful of Jordan advertising. The merchandising area looked really interesting, particularly for me whose previous experience of F1 merchandise stretched to a battered McLaren hat one my brother's friends gave me the previous year. Speaking of hats, Dad and I both bought a hat - Dad got a Ferrari cap and I got a Jordan one.

After this, we continued around the outside of the track, looking at all the corners. It was about when we got to Stowe that Dad noticed a problem. There was a swarm of flies and a few wasps hanging around my head! I had foolishly picked a yellow Jordan hat instead of a black one, and the poor insect life around Silverstone must have thought I was a giant flower…

The next thing we did was eat lunch while listening to the circuit radio. Dad and I had chosen the exit of Club corner for our area, and it was a very good choice. Not only could we see everything from the Stowe exit to the start of the Luffield complex, but there was also a giant TV in the vicinity. Halfway through our sandwiches, the action began.

Seeing an F1 car in its full glory was really exciting, but seeing several together was about the most thrilling thing I'd seen in my life! Hearing the V10s and seeing the different lines everyone took was exciting, especially in the rare moments I could hear the commentary over the sweet song of metal on edge. The intellectual interest was high too; not only was there the pole chase, the Jordans and the home drivers to watch out for, there was also the question of whether Alex Yoong would qualify (he didn't) and whether Arrows would even bother to participate (they did; it was the last time Arrows put its whole heart into a race weekend, too).

As a Jordan fan, I'd've been happier if that song had not been punctuated with the awful scrape of Sato's nosecone dragging on the tarmac (it fell off its connectors on its own accord, apparently) and if Fisichella's original engine had stayed operational for more than one-and-a-half laps. This was probably why I couldn't find anything suitable to say to the Jordan staffer I saw a few hours later in the petrol station on the way out…

You may have noticed that at no point during any of this did I need the new wellies. In fact, Dad and I got back with sunburn. We'd packed the bag with stuff for every weather, including a complete change of clothes - except for sunscreen. For once, summer was in Britain - and I forgot to plan for it!

As for the grid, I considered it a fairly minor matter until I got back home to watch the video Mum did of the coverage, but it went:

1st…Montoya (a fast lap that seemed to come out of nowhere, but Montoya then went nowhere fast on race day)

2nd…Barrichello (unusually, he beat his team-mate, and would go on to have an eventful race and still come 2nd)

3rd…Michael Schumacher (took it a bit steady, but won the race next day)

[corvid-language-library]

Norwegian Word of the Day 04/05/24

fottøy (n) - footwear

et fottøy | fottøyet | fottøy | fottøya, fottøyene

Vocab

sko (m) - shoe [pl: sko]

støvel (m) - boot

sandal (m) - sandal

høye hæler (pl) - high heels (en høy hæl)

joggesko (m) - trainer, sneaker

fjellsko (m) - hiking shoe

gummistøvel (m) - welly, rubber boot

snøresko (m) - lace-up shoe

ballerinasko (m) - ballet flat

tåsandal (m) - flip flop

Usage notes

Another useful word is "pensko" (pretty shoe), which is basically any kind of shoes you might wear with a suit

You can also say "høyhælte sko" (en høyhælt sko) when talking about high heels, but it's perfectly okay/more common to say høye hæler in my experience (probably from English influence)

A note on pronunciation: the æ in hæl is pronouned as e in a lot of dialects

Badesko are shoes such as flip flops and mules. Think shoes you might wear around a spa or on a particularly hot day, and they're badesko!

I see ballet flats just called "ballerina" on some websites rather than ballerinasko

[your-divine-ribs]

I’m With the Band Part 31

Words: 1.2k (just a little one!)

Arabella gets ready to go on tour with the boys… 💖 (I’ve written this story up to Part 41 btw so I’ll get it all posted soon xxx)

I’m With the Band Masterlist Main Masterlist

"Larry! Get your arse in here now!" I cry out, grunting with exertion as I try in vain to shift the zip on my bulging Louis Vuitton suitcase. It's stuck fast, refusing to budge as I pull on it with all of my might.

"Ahh shit!" I curse, exasperated, flopping down on to the bed. Items of clothing and shoes are strewn over every surface and the floor's covered too. It's utter chaos and I can feel my stress levels rising.

"What's up Bells?" Larry calls from just outside the door, stopping short as soon as he enters and surveys the mess. "Christ, what on earth have ya been up to? Looks like a bomb's gone off in 'ere!"

"Packing," I inform him sulkily. "Well... I've been trying to anyway. It's near-on impossible with your stupid one-suitcase rule. How the hell do you expect me to fit all of these in there?"

I indicate the straining case before I sweep a hand around the room, watching as Larry's eyes bulge wide. "All of it? But you don't need all that lot. We're only going to be away for three weeks for this first run!"

I huff in frustration, hands on my hips. "You really think I can fit three weeks of outfits into one suitcase? I've actually been very selective if you must know, I figured I wouldn't need my evening dresses..."

My eyes flick to my most beloved and extravagant purchases which are hanging on the wardrobe door, swathes of silk and tulle and sequin-spangled satin which wouldn't look out of place on a red carpet.

"Can just see you wading through mud in a field in Reading in one of them," he sniggers. "Would look great with your wellies!"

"Wellies?" I wrinkle up my nose. "But we'll be in the VIP area won't we?"

Larry's face cracks into a wide smile. "Yeah, but it's not that posh ya know. We're not big time yet. Don't know what you're expecting, it's still a festival. You'll still have to shit in a portaloo like everyone else!"

"Portaloos?"

Now I'm really horrified, visions of living it up in exclusive fully furnished, air-conditioned Coachella-style accommodation shattered in an instant. Never having attended a UK festival before I'm not sure quite what I'm letting myself in for. "Next thing you'll be telling me we'll be camping... in actual tents!"

"Where's ya sense of adventure?" Larry grins teasingly. "Had some of me funniest, most memorable festival experiences in tents! This one time me and Van pitched up right next to this ditch at Glasto and it rained all night. Well you can imagine what it was like in the morning! The whole field was a swamp, all our stuff was soaked through! It was hilarious!"

I give him a withering look as I try to wedge another pair of sandals into the over-stuffed luggage. "If that's your idea of fun you've got a serious problem. Now come and help me shut this case will you?"

Larry and I are still good-naturedly bickering by the time the taxi comes to transport us to our first destination of the tour which happens to be a venue in Newcastle. Johnny had already gone home two days prior and is all set to meet up with the rest of the band and crew when they arrive to play that evening. Then after the gig the tour bus is booked to come and pick everyone up so we can travel up to Glasgow for TRNSMT that weekend. From there on it's a packed schedule of gigs and festival shows and various interviews planned all over the country, culminating in the lads' biggest sets to date, two late summer slots on Friday and Saturday night respectively at Reading and Leeds festivals.

I'm a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The thought of travelling the country with the guys and potentially meeting numerous eligible rockstars has my heart practically leaping out of my chest with anticipation, but the prospect of being cooped up in an enclosed space with said guys also fills me with dread. I've had the pleasure of spending just a week at my cousin's house so far and I've already witnessed some less than desirable habits that I'm sure will only prove to be the tip of the iceberg. I can only imagine what sort of unsavoury behaviour passes for acceptable when they're on the road and trying to impress and outdo each other like boys invariably do when they're together.

Larry had finally given in after a morning of my incessant moaning and was now allowing me to bring three suitcases of my belongings with me. I'm still feeling a little smug as I watch him struggling to lift the heavy loads into the boot of the taxi. "You got bricks in 'ere or summat?"

"It's good exercise, don't complain," I giggle, teasingly squeezing his bicep. "You look like you could do with a good work-out."

He scowls at me as he tosses his comparatively tiny suitcase in the boot and slams it shut. "The manager's gonna have a fit about this lot. We've got loads of kit to get on to the bus and everyone else's stuff too. It's not just us ya know, it's the crew as well. Don't know why you need so much anyway."

Of course Larry wouldn't understand. Seduction's a serious business and I need to shine to my full potential to get noticed. I'm already imagining cosying up next to Bondy in a cute but revealing sundress whilst he tries to concentrate on those guitar lessons he promised me or brushing past Van that bit too close in the narrow tour bus corridors in the shortest of skirts. And then of course I have my little arrangement with Sam... He's not going to know what's hit him when I break out my carefully curated festival wardrobe. Mind you, I'm hoping that he might see me out of it more than actually wearing it if all goes to plan.

"Well, I wouldn't be seen dead wearing the same outfit twice on this tour. I'm not like Van who lives in the same pair of skinny jeans and black shirt all year round."

"He has more than just one pair ya know," Larry defends his friend as he opens up the taxi door for me to get in. "I should know as I do his laundry on tour."

This shocks me and I can't resist the opportunity to wind my cousin up. "Oh my god! You actually do his laundry for him? What did his last slave die of? I thought you were supposed to be his guitar tech, not his maid!"

Larry shoots me a pointed glare as he slides into the back seat next to me. "We all pull our weight when we're on tour... and that includes you too. If you're coming along for the ride you're part of the crew as well. We all work together to make sure everything runs smoothly."

I scrunch up my face in disgust. "Well if Van thinks I'm going anywhere near his sweaty post-gig laundry he can get fucked!"

Larry just chuckles. He knows me well enough not to argue.

Much as I'm starting to love those boys, if any of them think that I'll be lifting a perfectly manicured finger to do anything remotely resembling work on this tour they're very much mistaken. I recline in my seat, clicking my seatbelt into place, head filled with thoughts about what the next few exciting weeks are going to hold.