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pearlzier · 1 month

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“why the fuck did this shit just squirt on me,” matt's gaze narrowed at the four year old in front of him, brows raising for a moment before he yelped as he felt your hand hit him upside the head. he glared at you, “what was that for?”

“you can't swear in front of my niece!” you gawk, ruffling his hair gently to apologise for whacking him.

“okay, but, what is this,” he lifted the LOL doll, staring the shit out of it as it makes him severely uncomfortable. the little girl, however, seems positively thrilled by it spewing water whenever you filled it up and squeezed it. she giggled and clapped her hands, and matt merely huffed, proceeding to fill the doll back up with water.

“it's uh,” you grab the piece of paper with names scribbled on them, trying to find where your niece had named her dolls, and soon landing on the name, “chrissy?” matt practically burst out laughing, causing your niece to also laugh too even if she didn't actually know what was happening.

“s'this chrissy, kid? yeah?” he waved the doll around, gently holding it for her and watching as it spewed water from its mouth and made her giggle again. “like uncle chrissy? yeah, that's my girl.”

your heart practically melts, as you watch your boyfriend and your niece play together. he lifts his gaze to yours and he smiles, humming under his breath, “you look a lot like her,” your niece looks a lot like your sister, sure, but matt thinks you two look similar. both incredibly pretty, and adorable. “you two smile exactly the same.”

he looks between the both of you and that only corroborates his claims, and he nods his head again, watching as the little girl handed him a stuffed toy from her toy box. he held it gently in his hands, and he giggles softly. “come sit with us, pretty sure me and the kid are scared of you bein’ up so high.”

you were only sat on the bed, but fair enough, the kid didn't have a great sense of scale from her tiny height. conceding almost instantly, you find yourself sat beside matt, arm to arm, as your niece hands you two various things to play with. “fluffy,” she mumbles at the toy that matt's holding, and he nods gently.

“fluffy toy? or are they called fluffy?” matt looks at you for answers, blue eyes wide and soft. he's so at ease right now, it makes you feel at ease. “wait, look at the uh..” he snaps his fingers, “the list.”

you grab the list once more and your niece stabs a chubby finger at a name on the list, one that says ‘bartholomew’. you and matt both stare at it for a moment, then look up at the baby, then at eachother, and matt says exactly what you're thinking in the first place—“can she even pronounce that..?”

no, she can't, clearly, since the slurry of siunds that slipped from her wet lips were not nearly anything close to the word, ‘bartholomew’. the two of you burst into little giggles and lean against eachother. it's adorable, it's wholesome. even the kid can see it. “uncle matt?”

“yeah, kid?” he speaks up, not looking at the girl but still putting his full attention into talking to her despite the fact he's trying to set up her barbie car.

“do you like auntie?” she bats her lashes idly, chewing idly on her bottom lip as her chubby fingers tug at matt's shirt. he lifts his gaze to hers, his head leant against your shoulder. the question makes both of your brows furrow, and he nods, answering after a second.

“‘course i like auntie, she's my girl,” he says naturally, which too makes your heart warm. matt looks over at you and he interlaces your fingers together, holding your hand for a moment before he looks back at the kid with a little tilt of his head. “why you askin’, hun?”

his gaze searches hers as he sits cross-legged, and he nods his head for her to continue, tone gentle. “uhm.. are you gonna marry auntie?” matt's eyes widen and he swiftly lets go of your hand out of pure instinct.

your gaze flits to his, and when he sees that, he soon clasps your hand into his again, squeezing it. “if she wants to, sure. one day,” god fucking god, he's perfect, you say to yourself. you knew it already however this solidifed it. his blue eyes meet his and he smiles, leaning into your shoulder. “one day, kid.”

your niece seems very happy to hear this, and she continues playing with her toys like literally nothing had happened. like she really hadn't just given you two something to talk about when your sister came and picked the kid up. “you really mean that?” you spoke up after a little moment, eyes searching his as you shifted yourself a little closer.

“mean it, baby,” matt admits, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder with an arm around you before your niece decides conveniently that she wants something to eat. not from you, but from matt. “uncle matt? wan’ sumthin’ to eat..”

“you hungry? aight, c'mon,” he releases you gently and holds out his hand for the little girl so the two of them can head over to kitchen, before matt holds his hand out for you too. he offers a gentle smile, “i'll make somethin’ for you too.”

hey, who can say no to that? you push up off of the floor and you grasp his hand, the three of you making your way down to the kitchen. your niece bounces happily, just happy to be accompanied by her auntie and her uncle.

you realise, a little surprised with yourself that it's taken so long, that matt would make a perfect father. and that maybe that conversation you have is gonna change your lives a little more than you thought.

tags ┆.ᐟ ᰍ ︵ @junnniiieee07 , @st7rnioioss ۫ .

a/n ┆i am so full of ideas to write oh my god ୭ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ ✶

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo drabble #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets drabble #sturniolo triplets blurb #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo drabble #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #dad matt

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nancypullen · 2 years

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Last Weekend

Who has two thumbs and got to have two birthdays this year? This girl! There is absolutely no good reason for a woman my age to have two birthdays in the span of a week - but that’s what happened. Because the Edgewater Pullens are busy, busy people with many commitments, they were pulled in several directions on the weekend of my birthday. I assured Tyler that my big plans were shopping for yews and decorating for fall. I mean, I was turning 59, it’s not like we had a bouncy house and a piñata waiting. So they arrived this past Saturday with my favorite girl, and had packed their pizza oven and this delicious cake.

Four layers of deliciousness topped with petits fours and macarons. Holy cow! Before slicing that cake the Edgewaters fired up their pizza oven and produced pie after pie of gourmet pizza. I didn’t lift a finger! My favorite is their fig, feta, and walnut pizza with a little honey drizzle. It’s out of this world! Jamie makes her own pizza dough and it’s perfect. Tyler whacks them into the oven and it takes about 90 seconds to achieve perfection. They’re quite a team. A funny card with an Etsy gift certificate made me a little emotional. It’s hard learning to receive from your kids, it’s supposed to be the other way around. It makes me uncomfortable when I think of them spending their money on me, I’d rather they reward themselves with a treat for their hard work, or pick up a delicious dinner on a busy day when they don’t feel like cooking. They’re so sweet to me and I’m not sure I’ll ever find a way to thank them enough.

Anyway, we had a wonderful weekend. Our grandgirl (and oh, she IS grand!) has inherited a bit of my love for Halloween, spooky stuff, and witches. I swear, I didn’t push any of that on her, she found her way to the light on her own. Look at this adorable pumpkin she painted for me!

Also, when we were in her room playing Barbies (we are always getting ready for a ball, that’s the script every time) she added a character to the mix. Meet Griselda. She was the apple vendor at the ball. There were princesses dropping left and right.

At least when they were felled by poison apples they looked good. We spend copious amounts of time choosing dresses and accessories.

That’s how we set up the dress shop. Accessories are sorted into categories - shoes, jewelry, tiaras, purses. Those gowns? You can buy a bundle of 6 for about $7.99 on Amazon. They even come with bags of accessories. They’re easy for little fingers to get on and off the dolls because they just have a velcro closure in the back. She loves ‘em. I also bought some cheap furniture so the dolls can lounge with refreshments between shopping trips. See where their house is located?

Everything stores in that nightstand! So convenient. But it’s not all gowns and crowns. Well, it is most of the time, but we do play board games, play outside (though it was a rainy weekend), make Play-Doh cookies and pizzas, and all sorts of other fun stuff. At this age everything is an educational experience. Shopping for ball gowns? Let’s talk about prices, how much we have to spend, colors, sharing, etc. Board games are great for that too, plenty of opportunities for counting, drawing conclusions, taking turns, learning to win and lose well, and so on. Here’s a little something that was cheap to make and fun to do.

Draw a face, number some strips of paper one through six and tape or glue them on, then grab some dice (you only need one) and some kids’ safety scissors. They roll the dice, identify the number, and then take a snip from that strip. They get to match the dots to actual numbers while working on scissor skills. In educator terms, this also helps with subitizing. That’s when we can accurately recognize a number of something without actually stopping to count. “Hey, look at those three horses.” or “Did you see those two big pumpkins?” Our brain does the work without us having to count off the items. It was fascinating to watch how quickly the grandgirl started recognizing the dot patterns as three or five, etc. It’s just repetition and because there are quite a few numbers to snip, it works. It’s also good for some giggles as the haircut starts to look a little crazy. Considering that she’s only four and there are thirty-six dice rolls required to finish the game, it was not instant gratification but she stayed engaged the whole time. That’s a win. I know that she gets plenty of instruction at her preschool, so I don’t go heavy on this stuff. It’s her weekend too and no one wants to work on the weekend, right? She’s so smart, her little brain is just a sponge. Nothing wrong with a break. Besides, it’s just as important to encourage imagination as it is to feed them curriculum. Did I mention that she thinks we have a dungeon? This summer she noticed the vents around the foundation of the house and asked what was in there. I may have nonchalantly replied, “Oh, that’s just the dungeon.” Without batting an eye she asked, “Is there anyone in it?” So of course I said, “Well, Grandpa threw the garbage man in there for being late.” Sorry, it was the first thing that came to mind. Our town garbage service was struggling at the time and they weren’t picking up on our scheduled day. It’s since been resolved, but my precious and beautiful grandgirl was fine with him being in there. She’d peer into the darkness of the vent and say that she was pretty sure she could see him. I’d always say things like, “I’d better remind Grandpa to let him out.” She asked if we could open the door to the dungeon and I’d say that we’d definitely do that when the weather cooled off a bit. Well, the weather cooled off. Don’t doubt for a minute that Grandpa and Grancy had a plan. Remember, this girl likes to be spooked. Grandpa bought some Halloween bones at Walmart. If I’d planned better I would have purchased a work shirt with a name tag from Goodwill. But the bones were enough. This weekend while I was upstairs playing dress shop with little miss, I sent a text to the mister.

Now, before you call social services you should know that we traumatized our own children the same way and they are both perfectly normal...ish. Right in the middle of dithering between a yellow and blue gown, I stopped and said, “Ohmygosh, *insertname*! I just realized that Grandpa never let the garbage man out of the dungeon!” Without missing a beat our little Wednesday Addams said, “Let’s go look.” So we marched downstairs and alerted Grandpa to the potentially dire situation in the dungeon. The grandgirl was determined to lead the expedition and had a flashlight in hand. We went outside into the chilly drizzle and started for the side of the house. She stopped and snapped a stick over one knee proclaiming, “If there are spiders I’ll knock down the webs with this stick!” I applauded her courage. It’s a wonderful coincidence that the door to the crawlspace is a heavy metal thing that you have to slide away - very creepy and dungeon-like. As Grandpa slowly slid the door aside and the bones were revealed, her eyes were as big as saucers. Then without skipping a beat she said, “Heee’s dead.” the way you might say “All gone!” to a toddler. Not a bit bothered. I gave her back a little nudge and said, “Go on in...” and she scrambled back and said, “No way!” The flashlight clicked off and she suggested we close up the dungeon. That was that.

She did, however, hang the information over my head for the remainder of the day. We’d be right in the middle of a bit and if my Barbie was less than cooperative she’d mention that she’d hate to have to talk about the garbage man. Did my granddaughter just blackmail me? Pretty sure she’s in on the joke and having a ball with it. She loves nothing more than to stay in character all day and add to a story. If not, I’m sure her teachers are getting an earful about the skeleton in our dungeon. The Caroline County Sheriff’s Department should be showing up any time. So that was my weekend - cake and corpses. Is there any better way to start October? I can’t think of one. I hope your month is off to a beautiful start. If not, go buy a pumpkin. You can’t be unhappy with a pumpkin on your porch, balcony, or in your window. Heck, just sit it beside your tv and enjoy. Sending out love~~~ Stay safe, stay well, stay spooky!

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terminally-karkalicious · 3 years

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allow me to rant about the only thing that has been in my brain for the past two months and that is doll customizing babeyyyyy

i know there’s a 90% chance that you wont give a Shit about any of this but here we go anyways

SO first you gotta choose a doll. preferably one with a high range of motion to avoid creating new joints or having annoying limitations like not having elbow joints for some fucking reason. what the fuck mattel. give monster high dolls back their ball jointed shoulders and elbow joints. smh

the most common dolls ive seen used as bases are monster high and ever after high. most customs ive seen are highly stylized so the stylized face molds work well for those types of dolls but dolls like barbies are good for when you want a more realistic face-ups.

once you’ve got your base picked out you gotta wipe that bitch’s face off with like. acetone or nail polish remover or something strong like that. you can also use acetone to shrink doll heads which is cool as hell imo. n e way once the face is wiped you gotta chop off the hair and remove the hair plugs from the inside. ive seen this done several ways but the easiest and most common way ive seen is to dunk the head into boiling water for ~30 seconds until it gets squishy and malleable. once you’ve got the head back, you can use pliers (i think tweezers would work in a pinch) to pull out the hair plugs which are kinda icky because theyre covered in glue and other gross shit. ew

now you must decapitate the doll. dunk em back in the boiling water to soften them back up then just tug the head off. the neck pegs look funky and are usually a different color than the body so thats cool ig

once the head’s off, you can start the face-up which is basically just giving the doll a new face using stuff like watercolor pencils, acrylic paint, gouache, and a whole lot of other stuff. hell ive seen people use person makeup on these dolls.

next,,,,, hair. there’s about twenty million ways to do hair from gluing yarn wefts to sewing to rerooting with purchased nylon doll hair or yarn wefts but i’m gonna talk about the most common one ive seen which is rerooting and gluing.

before you can reroot, you need doll hair. which, as i mentioned, can be bought at stores like the doll planet or made at home with yarn in literally any color. have fun with it! make rainbow hair or something idk

to make homemade wefts, you take some acrylic yarn, cut it twice as long as you want the hair to be (keep in mind you can cut and style the hair once it’s been rerooted), fold them in half, and tie it to something sturdy like a wire coat hanger for the next step.

once you’ve got your yarn tied to your hanger, use a pet brush and brush the yarn until it’s wispy and looks like hair. then take a straightening iron and iron the weft flat. then remove from the hanger and boom. hair wefts. ta-da

to reroot the wefts onto the head, use a rerooting tool (which can be as simple as a needle with the eye cut at angle) (just google it please i’m shit at descriptions)) to poke small sections of the hair into the head. you can use the pre-existing rooting holes for your own reroot as they’re usually pretty reliable. to reroot, take a small length of you doll hair (about 10-15 strands), loop it in half, and put the middle of the loop into the reroot tool. poke the end of the tool with the hair on it into the pre-existing hole and remove the tool. the hair *should* stay in and fill up that plug!! also remember to plug thickly at the hairline and part of the hair where it's most noticeable. it doesnt matter as much in the center of the head as that’s not usually visible on the doll. once you’ve rerooted, squeeze in strong glue through the neck hole and squish around the head to make sure it covers all the plugs and secures them in place. then pour hot water onto the head to make the hair lay flat for styling later.

also, you can reroot yarn directly into the head to make thicker, more textured hairstyles. and since the yarn is thicker, you dont need to glue the inside of the head for the hair to stay in place!!

if youre not doing body modifications (which are also cool as hell) then it’s time for clothes but clothes are boring and i like body mods more so i’m gonna rant about them instead

the material ive seen most doll artists use is apoxie sculpt, which is like play doh on steroids. it comes in two parts which you gotta mix together for some reason. why dont they sell it pre-mixed. what was the reason. also once it’s dry it’s super super strong and you can sand it, drill into it, paint it, and all kinds of stuff. very nice and i want some for myself.

you can use hand saws and drills and shit to whack off doll limbs to make stuff like digitigrade legs or new joints. also dont be afraid to use other mismatching doll parts when customizing like heads and bodies and forearms and hands and shit. it literally does not matter if youre gonna recolor the doll anyways so have fun with it. make frankenstein’s doll if youre feeling spicy

accessories my beloved. stuff like tiny beads and clay baubles and shit will literally transform the entire doll plus they’re adorable and multi-purpose

i suppose i must talk about clothes now. ah well. you can find great clothing patterns if youre new to customizing on other customizer’s etsy shops and probably google although those will probably be lower quality than paid pattern pieces. and keep in mind that if it exists as clothing irl, you can likely make it doll-sized. there are literally no limits to your clothing options as long as you can execute your idea.

the once all your components have been made, you can assemble the doll again!! and finally see what all the parts look like together!! very cool 10/10 stars.

ight that wraps up my doll rant. i could really go into more detail on certain parts but thats a whole other rant for a whole other day smh. sorry for fucking flooding your inbox ender ahaha……………. you asked for this

little did you know that dolls have been one of my favorite things since like ever. if i can read a 25 chapter long fanfic i can read this B)

mattel definitely fucked up by completely ruining MH doll designs and just stopping EAH, alot of their profits most likely came from people who collect and customize dolls and by changing MH doll designs/Stopping EAH dolls they 1. most likely lost a small (or big if we're not jus talking people who customize dolls) part of their profit and 2. made it harder for doll customizers to make dolls/get commissions out rather quickly because they probably have to waste more time making joints or learning how to make joints.

EAH/MH dolls (specifically MH dolls) had AMAZING MODELS because there was so much variety with height, face shapes, etc (my favorite molds had to be the short/tall dolls and the cat molds because of the tails) and doll customizers really went all out with enhancing a molds unique features. The only "downside" abt MH dolls is that they (or atleast most)(from what i remember)) had slimmer faces but wider eyes while EAH dolls have wider faces with slimmer smaller which left a canvas for the face and not the eyes (and vice versa for MH dolls)

I've never seen any videos where a barbie is customized (maybe because i absolutely despised barbies at the time) so I'll definitely have to check those out but they seem to be good for realistic makeovers. I've seen like like semi realistic makeovers for EAH/MH dolls that were pretty good too tho (pretty sure mostly EAH dolls since yk MH dolls were used for creature makeovers while most EAH dolls weren't)

yeah i was always amazed by the head shrinking with acetone. honestly i still am?? idunno i have no idea how that chemical bullshit works. Ive seen a few of uh makeovers that just pain over the face (in multiple layers ofcourse) but that's usually when they're painting the entire body a different colour (again usually when they're turning a doll into a funky little baby man). I've also seen a few that just chop the hair off and take out the hair plugs yk without uuh like softening the head or just go straight for the hair plugs after taking off the head (i used to do that it was funny to me??). i always really liked when they used watercolour pencils or just colour pencils in general to draw/sketch on the face cause like wow ur drawing on ur doll without ruining it?? kinda epic maybe even poggers and pogchamp?? oh god my brain is failing wjshsmsj.

Watching them putting the hair back on the doll was, other than the face stuff, was the BEST part for me. Favorite type of hair was iuuuuuh was either thick yarn or brushed out yarn. Literally worship the people that would reroot the hair, theyre the most patience people on this earth!! it's literally insane but i guess that's what happens when you've been doing that for years? you guess kinda get used to it. when they put glue into the head does it just become stiff?? like it's just a clump of dried glue or does it like..hollow out again??

dude you literally cannot convince me most of the supplies used for doll makeovers. APOXIE CLAY LOOKS SO FECKING GOOD. its edible and i will die on that hill. The body mods are literally so amazing!!!!! it's so impressive how theyre able to imagine certain features THEN LIKE ACTUALLY MAKE IT LOOK ACCURATE TO WHAT THEY WANTED TO LOOK LIKE AFTER LIKE ON TRY (or many yk trial and error is very necessary for..everything). Absolutely loved when doll customizers would saw off a dolls legs and use different ones or just completely get rid of the torso to use a different one. it's like uuh that one big guy that's mismatched and sewn together. very cool. The accessories are so fun!! just small little details you seen really need but can add because it's your feckin doll!! I used to be absolutely obsessed over the doll clothes i would find on etsy, so much so that i started sewing shitty shirts and dresses for my uh "customized" dolls (they were absolute HORRORS idk WHY my mom let me feck up my dolls like that).

Thank you for this!! i haven't been able to talk about any of my interests for a while and this just really made me happy!!

Question fer u my fellow MH/EAH enthusiast: what was your favorite MH/EAH movie/episode and doll series. Mine was The fusion dolls (MH obvi) and that MH movie "Haunted" cause we got to know more about Spectra :D

#YOOOO LONG POST?!#long post #:) hehehe #this was very fun to read cant wait for ur next fanfic length ask #asks :D #theoreticallyjasper

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8emmy · 7 years

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The Austen Experience

Chapter 3: “How quick come the reasons for approving what we like.”

Start from Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Nesta sat on the stoop of her apartment staring out on to the road waiting to be picked up by Feyre and Rhys. Feyre had texted earlier saying that they were on their way from dads. Feyre was the only daughter that had yet moved from dad’s apartment. She wouldn’t leave him alone, she had to look out for him. Nesta hated that Feyre was so kind hearted, that she was willing to help their father after the amount of shit he pulled on his girls. The loan sharks banging at the apartment door in the middle of the night, hiding in mother’s armoire, snuggling close with her baby sisters to stop them from crying out and drawing their attention. Their father calling from a cell from the police station trying to get his daughters to post bail, he didn’t mean to get so drunk that night, he just lost a lot of money. “We’ll be eating cup-o-noodle for a while but once I get the money we’ll be eating lobster for every meal,” he used to promise as they dragged him to the pull out sofa. And yet Feyre stayed, she would say that he was getting better, better than last month when he spent some of Feyre’s hard earn money on a horse race, and lost it again. Feyre would take him to AA meetings hoping that getting him off the bottle might mean that Feyre wouldn’t have to sleep with her wallet under her pillow. But Nesta and Elaine saw what Feyre couldn’t, a man that was too far gone, he couldn’t be changed, not since mother's death. Nesta clicked her heels together as she checked her phone one more time to make sure that Feyre hadn't sent her anything else. Feyre didn't text her. With a sigh, Nesta went back to staring out at the road. Feyre had always been the one that did stuff, helped to make extra money that they would use for groceries and hide the extra change in their socks from their father. She would walk to school to save up her bus money, always the penny pincher, saving never spending. But Nesta did, she would use money as a way to get back from her father. She would steal Feyre’s money to buy new shoes, or a jacket, or a stupid piece of chocolate. Nesta was horrible as a child. Eleven and she were already stealing from family. She would only play with Elaine, never letting Feyre play with their dollar store Barbie dolls. It was hard to actually form a better relationship with Feyre, always so concerned that Feyre would never forgive the childhood bully Nesta was. But surprisingly Feyre did. She was more than happy to open her arms for Nesta, never made a complaint to have her call. Feyre and Elaine were quite similar there, that they could forgive, even Elaine forgave their father. But Nesta was her mother’s daughter, she held grudges like medals, even as old as they were.

“Nesta!” Feyre calls out. She was parked a few buildings down. Feyre got out of the car to wave Nesta down. Getting up Nesta swings her purse over her shoulder. She didn’t wear a smile as she walked to Feyre who had a large one. “See we made it two minutes earlier than we planned.” “Yeah, I was worried for a second that you forget where I lived.” She gave her sister hug. “If you had it your way no one except Elaine would nowhere you lived,” Feyre says opening the door for Nesta to get in. “Hi Nesta, it’s nice of you to have invited me to brunch,” Rhys greeted as Nesta slid into the back. The car smells new, the leather seats were cool on her legs. “Yes, well we wouldn't want you to starve,” Nesta says coldly. She really didn’t want to like him, not until he actually proved to be a normal decent person, no use to getting attached to garbage. “No, no we wouldn’t.” Feyre slid into the front passenger seat. With seat belts buckled and greetings finished the three of them were off ready to do a bit of spying on the delivery boy. The cafe across from Sweet Stems was very industrial. The lights were, of course, Edison bulbs hung in geometric shape chandeliers, the tables were made from the tops of old shipping barrels and all the male baristas had Victorian mustaches. “I think we found the breeding grounds of the hipsters,” Rhys says looking around the place. Feyre lets out a little giggle. “Cauldron save us all,” Nesta whispers back, as she pretended to pray to the Cauldron. That made both Feyre and Rhys chuckle. After finding a table close to the window Rhys got up to buy the first round of coffees. “He seems nice,” Nesta says as the two sisters watch a brunet headed man help Elaine load up a truck full of large vases full of flowers. “Well, if Elaine likes him then he must be nice, or at least I would hope so.” “No, I’m talking about Rhys. He seems… sweet.” The word sweet tasted tart in her mouth. Feyre cheeks blushed, she looked behind her to Rhys still in line for coffee, he gives Feyre a little wave. “He is when he isn't being a jerk.” They go back into silence watching as the man takes the vase from Elaine with a large handsome smile. “He’s got a nice face,” Nesta says. “And a nice ass by the look of it,” Feyre adds. “Are you talking about mine? Because you can always test that theory, Feyre darling.” Rhys interrupts. Feyre’s blush deepens as Rhys gives her a wicked smile. Feyre waits till all the drinks are placed on the table before whacking his shoulder. “Not funny, we’re talking about him.” Feyre points to the man that had just disappeared into the truck. “It doesn’t help you when you’re pointing at my reflection, darling.” Nesta has to hide a snicker at Feyre’s face turning even more red than before. Rhys laugh was rich and deep, he takes a drink from his mug telling Feyre to do the same. He even had the balls to ask to take a sip from Feyre’s mug, and while he did he made sure to lick the rim. “Our first indirect kiss, and over a coffee date too.” “This is not a date, not with my sister watching your pathetic flirting skills.” Feyre huffed taking a napkin to get rid of Rhys’s saliva. “But you love it. Do let me remind you that you found my ass to be chiseled by great Italian artists,” his smirk could make most women blush but Feyre just rolled her eyes. “I have never said that your ass was ‘chiseled’ by Italian artists.” “But you just did.” Rhys shoulder gets another slap from an angry Feyre. Nesta really felt third wheeling with the two of them. The way they bantered like they’ve been friends for years, and the sexual tension was thicker than the concrete counters of the barista bar. Nesta went back to looking out the window. She gasps and points vigorously at the window. “They’re kissing! Elaine is kissing him! Isn’t that illegal?” Feyre looks out of the window with her own shock in horror. “I would think that there would be a law against bosses kissing their employees,” Feyre says not able to take her eyes off Elaine locking lips with the delivery boy. The two were partly hidden from the trunk of the truck. “If they're both legal adults there shouldn’t really be a problem,” Rhys chimes in. “But if they break up the guy could sue for sexual harassment or being treated differently because of the past relationship he had with Elaine. Elaine can't afford an account let alone a lawyer.” Feyre says watching as her sister steps away from her lover with a sweet smile. They close the trunk before going back into the shop. “We can't say anything,” Nesta says breaking her glance from the window to her mug. “Elaine would be so mad if we told her we saw her.” “Then what do you suppose we do then? Pretend that she hasn't made a stupid decision? That she won’t be screwed over once she fires the guy?” Feyre asks still looking out the window as if she could see into the shop herself. “Yes, we keep quiet. It’s her own grave she's digging, we are not going to help her get out of it. She’s an adult.” Nesta takes a deep sip from her mug. Rhys still hasn’t said anything. His eyes had been glued to the contents of his half finished coffee. Nesta wakes up to the sound knocking at her door. Last night when she got home she remembered that she forget to pack pajamas and toiletries. After she went over everything in her bag she went back to reading before passing out over her covers. Nesta got upper bed wrapping a robe around her as she groggily opens the door with the chain still in place. A habit she picked up from her childhood of worrying about loan sharks storming in. Feyre was standing out in front of her door, she had a large portfolio bag swung over her shoulder and her cross body bag on the other. In one hand she held a drink tray with three coffees. “Give me a sec,” Nesta says as she closes the door to unchain the lock. She opens the door wide enough for Feyre and her bags to come in. “Hey, I thought if we were going to be up early I might as well get the caffeine.” Feyre walks further into the apartment, her eyes taking in the small room around her. There was no homey feeling in here except for the books. Everything was tidy except for the bed, and the only pictures in the place were a few, a painting that Feyre painted for Nesta last Christmas hung above the bed, it was an abstract piece of a penis. Nesta liked the colors and how you really couldn’t even make out the phallic from all the other strokes. The other pictures were of Nesta and her sisters, the one with mom, at every graduation that they had, but nothing with friends. Nesta moves past Feyre moving to her closet to pull out clothing. “I’m just going to take a shower. Make yourself comfortable, sorry about the mess.” Feyre sat on the red armchair next to the window. Nesta’s apartment was so cold, and lonely. Feyre places the drink tray on the desk taking her coffee and taking a sip. She watches her older sister grab clothing from her well-organized closet before heading to what Feyre presumed to be the bathroom. Feyre knew that her relationship with Nesta wasn’t the same like her two older sisters had. Feyre and Nesta fought and disagreed with the majority of Feyre’s life, never really getting along. It didn’t mean that they hated each other, they just weren’t best friends. Even sitting here knowing that Nesta had invited her to come in she felt like she was intruding. Her place in the apartment was not in the way of Nesta, Nesta said to make herself comfortable but Feyre felt that if she touched anything that perfection would be destroyed by a mere touch, that she would leave a trail of paint along the floor boards. Her apartment (dad’s apartment) was littered with knickknacks and dishes yet to be cleaned. Paintings and pictures hung on every wall like a makeshift art gallery. The pullout sofa was always pulled out with dad’s messy bedding or him just laying there watching tv. Her room that she used to share with her sisters, had a small twin sized bed in there now so she had more room to paint. Elaine had used the small balcony as a garden that was easy to tend to for Feyre. Their small bathroom was cramped with tons of different products. And here in Nesta’s, it felt like an Ikea showroom. With candles filling up the unusable fireplace that sat on the wall in front of the bed. Nesta comes out with her hair still wet and her clothes simple. Her face was glossy from skin care lotions. “I must have slept through my alarms,” Nesta says pulling out a pair of socks from another drawer inside her closet. “Well, kickboxing was cut short so I might have arrived a little earlier than what we planned.” Feyre watches Nesta. Her older sister had the perfect posture, her face sharp and breathtaking, it was almost sad that Nesta defensive nature curdled her personality. “Which one is mine?” Nesta walks to the desk pointing at the remaining to go cups. “Which ever, both you and Elaine like your coffee with eight sugars,” Feyre moved slightly to look out the window, “Hey, we’re okay?” Nesta’s face from the reflection looked taken a back before going back to aloof. “Yes, why wouldn’t we?” “I don’t know, you’re sometimes really hard to read.” “Are we okay?” Nesta’s voice was soft. Feyre looked at her with a small smile. “Of course we are.” Elaine arrived five minutes later. Luckily her coffee was still warm. Helping to put Feyre’s art supplies into the trunk of Elaine’s second hand 2006 Chevrolet Cobalt. Nesta sat up front with her duffle bag by her feet, Feyre squeezed into the back with her long legs squished to Nesta’s seat. Nesta kindly moved her chair up till her knees were close to the dashboard. “Thanks,” Feyre says pulling out her phone to text. Elaine starts up the car and they began the trek to Austenland, it was only an hour and a half out of the city. “Who are you texting?” Eliane asks Feyre, her eyes looking at the mirror to the back before backing to the road. “Mor, just texting her that we’re on our way. You’ll have to drop us at the guest parking area. No guests are allowed to the back entireness, breaks the illusion.” Feyre said while still texting. “Okay, might be easier than trying to find employee parking.” Austenland was on an estate, the gates the welcomed you in was a long driveway taking you up towards a beautiful Georgian estate. The sides of the roads were well trim trees separating the acres of the greenest grass. It felt as if you were stepping back into time other than the fact that they were driving in a car from 2006. “They must have built this house, Prythian doesn’t have any of these old manors from the 18th century,” Nesta says breathlessly. “No, it was built by a guy in the 18th century, his entire family has lived in that house. Last year it was passed down to the current owner that found that upkeep was expensive so they decided to create Austenland.” Feyre explained. “The guy who owns the place lives in the small house close to the stables, where some of the other employees live. It’s a bit easier to just live on the estate than trying to commute.” “They have horses?” Elaine asks excitedly. “Yeah.” Nesta’s stomach dropped, hopefully riding was optional. She was not a big fan of large beasts. They drive up to a fork in the road, a sign pointed both sides marking the right as the stable house and the left the manor. Feyre pointed that they had to go up to the manor and that there will be another fork for the parking lot. But Feyre told them to stop so she could grab her stuff and head down to the stables. “I need to sign in and get dressed.” She says. “Bye Elaine, I’ll text you once I get home. And Nesta see you around!” With a large smile and carrying her belongings, she waved off the car. The Parking lot was just a gravel patch of land where some cars were parked. There were a carriage and a man with a frilly hat waiting at the other end of the lot. He waved at them as they parked. Elaine followed Nesta up to the carriage. “Madame,” the man bows deeply at his hips, he stands up straight. “Are you Ms. Nesta Archeron?” “Yes,” Nesta replies. She looked the man up and down. He was dressed as a traditional coachman. His stockings were showing off his calfs and his shoes and little adornments of ribbons. “Madame may you follow me to the house.” He took Nesta’s bag to out in the carriage. Nesta turned to Elaine. “I guess this bye, I’ll talk to you once I get home. Maybe Feyre will send you a quick message from me.” Nesta tells her sister before hugging her. Elaine smiles widely. “Have fun, and don’t just read the entire time.” “I’ll try.” Nesta gets help getting into the carriage by the coachman. “We’ll be heading to the large house where you will be greeted by the Lady of the house and be told the rules before you will be dressed.” He tells her before closing the carriage door. Nesta waves to her sister as the horse carries her off onto another path.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #nessian #austenlandau

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squirenonny · 7 years

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This chapter killed me. Dead. You know, your schedule works out pretty well for me. You update Love and Other Questions within an hour of me finishing my workweek on Saturday, and then I spend all weekend waiting for the Someplace Like Home update, around 5:30 my time right before the workweek starts again~ Anyway, I would love a little drabble on Shiro and Akira growing up! Maybe Akira coming out, them entering the Garrison, or some other pivotal point in their relationship? I'm not too picky!

[I’m writing Dualityverse fluff ficlets! (Because the latest chapters have been pure angst.)] [Read them all here. Now on AO3 as Finding Family.]

Ahhh, there are so many things I could have done for this because Shiro and Akira’s relationship is honestly so important to me (and your url makes me think of Shiro’s first solo flight in his dad’s Cessna), but you said “Akira coming out,” and there was no way I could pass that up. Pre-canon, obviously.

Contains lowkey misgendering while Akira is still closeted.

SometimesAkira thought his brother had known the truth as long as he had.Longer, maybe, because it was sometime before Akira had been able to put into words why it was soimportant to him that their imaginary kid sibling be a brother.

Akirahad never been shy about who he was. When he was nine,and his parents signed him up for a summer gymnastics program andTakashi for space camp, Akirahad threatened to take the garden shears to the neon pink t-shirtproclaiming him a gymnast-in-the-making. There was a lot of shouting, a fewangry tears, and a door slammed his his mother’s face.

Anhour later, Takashi had slipped in under the corner of Akira’simpromptu blanket fort and said they were both going to space camp.

“How’dyou manage that?” Akira asked, leaning against hisshoulder, too tired to be angry anymore.

Takashismiled. “Three weeks is a long time to be away from home all bymyself,” he said. “I told them I was too scared to go alone.”

[continued below]

Whenthey turnedten, and had a birthday (areal birthday, as that year happened to be a leap year), Akira foundhimself faced with a sea of startlingly pink wrapping paper. Theirparents always went all-out when leap years came around. It was asthough they saved up four years’ worth of birthdays for this oneday, even though they had perfectly respectable parties on thetwenty-eighth of the off years.

Thenight before the party, someone switched the tags on exactly half thepresents (only half; Akira wasn’t going to condemn Takashi to thatmuch floof), so each of the brothers now had equal parts pink andblue gift boxes.

Hisparents knew at once what had happened—of course they did;it wasn’t the first prank Akira had pulled—butbefore they could coax a confession out of him,a shame-faced Takashi quietly fessed up, fiddling with the silverribbons on a pink polka dotted package.

“We’retwins,” he said simply whenhis parents asked why. “We’rejust gonna share the stuff anyway.”

Thatwas the last year their parents bought either of them Barbie dolls ornotebooks with fairies on thecover, and by the time the next leap year rolled around, everypresent in sight was solidly space-themed except for a pair ofpackages from jii-chan—a model airplane for Akira and a beautifullycrafted porcelain doll for Takashi, and no one in the house couldprove they hadn’t come labeled that way.

(Foronce, Akira’s vow of innocence was the honest truth.)

Whenthey were eleven, and Takashi developed a brief but passionate lovefor their town’s little league team, he once spent an entire daytalking about how, if they didhave a brother, he couldteach him how to play, could be his coach, and wouldn’t that be great? Akira lasted until three o’clock beforewhacking Takashi on the back of the head with a pool noodle andsaying, “Well, what’s the point of waiting for a baby brother?Just teach me.”

Takashi’ssmile said he’d been been expecting Akira to speak up sooner.

Whenthey were twelve, sitting on the footbridge at the park near theirhouse, feet dangling over a sluggish, half-dried stream, popsiclesmelting down their hands, Akira finally found the words.

“Maybewe don’t need a brother,” Akirasaid, heart pounding. “Maybe… maybe it can just be me?”

He’dplanned something much more eloquent than that. Something clearer.But his tongue felt too large for his mouth, his eyes stinging withtears that didn’t seem inclined to wait for a reason to fall. Hispopsicle dripped artificial blue on his sneakers.

“Idon’t see why we have to choose,” Takashi said, his eyes on apair of dogs racing each other for a tennis ball on the far side ofthe park. “Maybe I want twobrothers.” He smiled as Akira turned to gape at him. “Maybe I’mjust that selfish that way, you ever think of that?”

“You?”Akira asked, eyes watering for an entirely different reason now.“Selfish?” He snorted, a knot inside him loosening. “I don’tbuy it.”

Takashiturned then, flashing a crooked smile and staring Akira dead in theeyes as he leaned over and bit off the top third of Akira’spopsicle. Akira howled aprotest as Takashi took off running, laughing over his shoulder andscarfing down the rest of his own treat before Akira could demand hisfair repayment.

Theyreturned home that evening sticky from sugar and muddy from splashingthrough the creek bed, and after washing up and eating dinner andwatching a movie with their parents, they returned to the bedroomthey still shared (neither of them having any inclination to demandmore privacy.) It was then, the last light of dusk hanging over thedolls lined up on Takashi’s headboard, the model airplane frozemid-flight above Akira, that Takashi whispered, “What should I callyou?”

“Akira,”he whispered back, afraid that to say it any louder might shatter theillusion. “My name’s Akira.”

Takashihummed, rolled over, and said, “Okay. Goodnight, Akira.”

Akirapulled his pillow over his face and smiled.

#voltron #takashi shirogane #akira shirogane #shirogane twins #apology fluff #livetoflyfreely

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salonadvertising-blog · 5 years

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The Skinny on Salon Advertising

I have been assuming lately concerning salon advertising and marketing. Not that I'm a significant marketing person Capture Your Beauty. I'm not, yet I do have an interest, especially when it pertains to matters of the hair. How many times have I heard the concern, "Do you know of a great location to obtain your hair done?" I've asked the inquiry various times myself. Exactly how do you go about locating a place you such as, that will do your hair the way YOU like, without you having to inform them what to do every action of the means? Nevertheless, I'm not a hairstylist. I have little experience in this endeavor, except the periodic bang trim: or the few times I whacked off the hair on my Barbie dolls.

First let me state that locating a GREAT beauty parlor requires a little good luck. Conventional advertising and marketing don't come into play, in my viewpoint. Ease is sometimes making a decision aspect when choosing where to have your hair done. Not always an excellent way to choose, but an idea, nonetheless, and also I ought to call I have been there a time or two myself. Benefit, however, does have a part to play relying on the services you want, i.e. perms, coloring or correcting; and also exactly how often you need these solutions. I'm simply saying ...

The concern remains ... how do you discover an excellent hairdresser? There appears to be one on every edge, similar to McDonald's or Starbucks. Yet unlike these great institutions of tasty-goodness, there is no system in position to guarantee the same solution every single time you go to. Thus the subject of discussion ... hair salon marketing.

The yellow pages of your neighborhood telephone directory seem like a sensible place to look. There are advertisements, areas and also contact numbers all provided in a useful way. And also I've used this technique extra times than I care to confess. One stands out in my memory. It was several years back and I had children at the time. I remained in determined need of a hair cut. Life was simpler then, before I waged the battle on aging - grey hair being public opponent number one. I pulled out the phonebook, found a few hassle-free areas, made several phone calls as well as opted for ... the hairdresser I can get a visit with the quickest. The woman that did my hair, and if I remember correctly, she was the owner of the hair salon, after finishing the hair cut, hands me a mirror, rotates the chair around and loudly proclaims for all to hear, "Oh, you look so much better". I looked THAT negative? Naturally I did not return. When the moment happened for a new hair cut, I took out those yellow pages and also buckled up for a new random hair-salon-choosing ride.

I fondly remember my favored hairdresser, as I'm contemplating salon advertising and marketing as well as exactly how to streamline the process. Her name was Diane. Still is as far as I know. She was a good friend of mine at the time. She was, as well as I state this with terrific honor and also respect, a hair design musician; the only person approximately that point that I can most likely to, have my hair done, as well as not need to hurry house and quickly change my hair before somebody I recognized saw me. She was THAT good. The only problem I had was the fact that I didn't such as going to the beauty parlor where she worked. It was a complete dump! As luck would have it, nevertheless, the owner sold the beauty parlor to my pal, Diane, as well as made some adjustments. She made it hip, she made it present, she made it pertinent ... she made it her very own. (I been watching American Idol much too lengthy). I was excellent there, though, I felt comfortable there.

A new problem soon arose, however. She was SO proficient at what she did that you had to make a consultation six weeks in advance! God prohibits you came down with influenza the day before your next appointment since you were all out of hair luck until you might get another consultation ... in 6 weeks! We soon said goodbye to our love/hair partnership as well as it was once more back to the yellow web pages. I understand, ideal?

Hair salon advertising and marketing ... a subject worth contemplating. My good luck had not been altering as well as I needed a new system, ideally before the next hair cut came due. As well as the fact that during this time around the gray hairs starting rearing their awful heads. No word play here planned, if that is certainly a pun.

Once again, my good friend Kismet was on my side. I found a gem of a hair cabinet: no yellow pages, no buzz, no business advertising and marketing. I asked a good friend where she went to have her hair done. She informed me. Simple as that. Don't think I had not tried this before, I had, yet this moment ... THIS MOMENT I hit the mom lode. I strolled right into the salon, being in the chair and heard those words I once dreaded as high as a secondary school mathematics examination that I hadn't researched for ... "What are we doing today?" Those words no more created concern as well as trembling or my heart to beat hugely out of my upper body; dripping down my back because I do not know the correct response. No, this time around I understood I might respond to with confidence, I could address with a guarantee I never had before ... I might frankly announce: "Whatever you want, it's just hair."

When Stephanie completed the item she has just created, she will undoubtedly hand me that mirror, rotate the chair around and also ask me what I think. I will undoubtedly smile a say "Really nice. I like it", because I will be showing off an adorable, fashionable, suitable hairdo that will take me via the remainder of the day without needing to do a thing to it.

Salon advertising and marketing is an art form. It is in science. Salon advertising and marketing at its ideal is word of mouth advertising and marketing and I can now shred those yellow pages and also remainder in hair salon peace.

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