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#Golf Sunglasses Test
irisintheafterglow · 4 months
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lights, camera, bitch, smile!
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: taylor swift - "i can do it with a broken heart"
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summary: it's your first time headlining the biggest music festival in the country, and your guitarist is nowhere to be found. good thing your other headliner-- and billboard chart rival-- can play guitar, right? right? (rockstar!gojo x popstar!reader)
wc: 2.73k
cw/tags: implied fem!reader but gn pronouns used, rivals to lovers, he falls first, mild angst (descriptions of a panic attack)/fluff with happy ending
note: this is another fic as a part of @ficsforgaza and a gift for @um-no-ok for donating and supporting palestinian families! interested in being a part of this initiative? check out my masterpost ! hope you enjoy this, i had a lot of fun writing it :)
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!
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“You’re sure the flight is still running late?” You plead, head in your hands as the tech lead, your publicist, and your manager sit apologetically on the other sofa in your trailer. “We can’t send out a car to go grab them from the airport as soon as they land?”
“Getting off festival grounds will be hard enough, not to mention battling the traffic of incoming guests,” the tech guy reminds you with a shake of his head, exhaling deeply as his radio crackles, another warning that you need to be on stage to sound check. In a matter of hours, you would be headlining the biggest music festival in the country, and both your guitarists were stranded hundreds of miles away. They should have known better than to take a gig right before the festival, but you let them do it anyway because it was only a 30 minute flight between the airports. But, after a stray bird flock nearly downed another passenger plane, the tarmac was backed up for the time being. “Can you try asking around to see if someone can fill in for them?”
“And maybe hire them instead,” your publicist mutters under her breath, seething. You shoot her a wry smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with the plug of your in-ear monitors.
“The band is out trying to find guitarists, but it’ll be hard to ask someone to fill in because of scheduling issues and the number of stages there are this year.” Your manager takes a peek at her watch and looks at you with regret. “You need to go soundcheck, guitarists or not.” 
“We have a drummer, a bassist, two keyboardists, and a vocalist. You’re gonna make them go out there with a jazz band and expect them to sing the biggest pop songs on the planet?” Your publicist, bless her heart, voices what you’d been dreading since you got the call from your lead guitarist. It was the biggest test to your professionalism since your career took off and you silently wished you’d paid attention to those tour bus guitar lessons. “How bad would it be to push back the set, even thirty minutes?”
“Bad, very bad. There’ve already been more delays than anticipated that aren’t music related,” the tech lead replies with a grimace. Your publicist curses under her breath and gives you a look telling you to get on stage. “And, it’s too late to fly in guitar tracks, even if we had them.” Shit. You’d just have to trust your team to figure something out, you figure, grabbing your sunglasses from the coffee table and exiting the trailer. 
The rest of your band is already plugged in by the time the golf cart drives you to the main stage where you’d be performing. The ruthless summer sun competed with barely any clouds, blazing anything in its sight and leaving you breaking a sweat, even in the shade. A stage hand slips a wireless pack onto the waistband of your shorts and the click of the volume knob brings you the dweedling sounds of your band. The audience lot is relatively empty, thankfully, save for a few brave souls who were taking care of sound. Steeling your nerves, you shoot the audio tent a thumbs up, pop in your in-ears, and wait for the click track to run. 
CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Intro, 2-3-4. 1…2…1-2-3 and– 
The synth intro of your walkout song rings concerningly quiet in your ears and you tap your in-ears a few times, signaling the sound tent with a thumbs-up until the rest of the keyboards are audible. Not a great start to sound check, but that’s what this time was for, right?
CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Drums and bass in. 1…2…1-2-3 and– 
Nothing. 
The click continues its monotonous beat and you vaguely make out bass at the bottom of your mix, but you and your drummer look at each other with the same confused expression. She taps her ears, shaking her head. 
“W-Wait, wait, wait. Can we stop, please?” You speak your request into your mic, disheartened to not hear your own voice in your mix. The synths stop abruptly, as does bass, and a dozen tech people rush onstage to fix various audio problems. “This is a nightmare,” you mutter, wiping the beads of sweat accumulated on your forehead. 
“It’s always mix issues, isn’t it?” As if your irritation couldn’t increase, your eye twitches on its own when you register the voice of the person standing at the bottom of the stage. All shining white hair and dark, round rimmed sunglasses, Gojo Satoru was the last person you wanted to be interacting with. To say he looked good would be an understatement and your eyes look for any place to focus on other than his chest under his unbuttoned shirt. “For what it’s worth, you sound pretty on the mic.”
“What do you want?” Your voice is tired already, as is your entire body. Figuring out who would replace both your guitarists had sapped your energy and doors weren’t even open yet. “I don’t have the time nor the energy to debate with you today–”
“Heard you were looking for guitarists,” he cuts in and you narrow your eyes. The last thing you needed was your Billboard chart rival mocking you and your current situation. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that. You and I both know you’re in a less-than-ideal spot right now.”
“Choose your next words very wisely, Gojo,” you seethe, using every ounce of your willpower to remain civil. “If you’re here to tease me, I don’t wanna fucking hear it.” 
“I wanna help you,” he says before you’ve stalked out of earshot. “I can fill in for your lead and Suguru can play rhythm. I’ve already talked to him about it and he’s down. We’ve got the chords alright, but if anything funky happens, we’ll just follow your bassist. We’re pros for a reason, aren’t we?” 
“I don’t need your help, Gojo,” you lie, desperately looking around for anything to get you out of this conversation. 
“Thought I told you to call me Satoru when we were at that awards show.” His voice was always velvet smooth, disarmingly charming, and you hated the way it drew you in like a moth to a candle. 
“I don’t remember that; and, if you did, I still don’t care.” We’re back on, says a voice through your ears. Starting the click on your cue, lead. 
“Seems like you don’t remember a lot about what happened that night. I wouldn’t mind recounting it for you since it seemed like you had so much fun,” he baits coolly and you fall for it, storming back to the front of the stage and looking him square in his pretty face. Memory remnants of dancing in colorful strobe lights and running your hands through his hair appear in your mind’s eye before you can stop them, and it must register on your face. “Ah, so maybe you do remember what happened if you’re this angry about it.”
“We’re rivals, Gojo,” you hiss, your vision close to going scarlet. “We’re not supposed to be buddy-buddy, and what happened at that afterparty was a slip of my better judgment.”
“We’re not supposed to be, or you’re scared to be?” His question hangs in the air and you have no choice but to glare at him, waiting for him to back down when you know he never will. After a long pause, he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. “Look, I know you’re in need of guitarists and I just wanna help. Consider it a favor.”
“Favors need to be paid back,” you counter skeptically, “and you’re the last person I want to owe.” 
“Not my kind of favors,” he says, more genuinely than you’re used to him being. “Just…think about it, yeah?” You don’t have time to dwell on why he was being so nice to you, though, as you give the audio tent a thumbs-up again. CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Intro, 2-3-4. 1…2…1-2-3 and– 
By the time you’ve suffered through soundcheck, changed into your stage outfit, and inhaled more setting spray than should be considered healthy, the sun has become a laser. Gojo is nowhere to be found, thankfully, and you spend the rest of the time before your set pacing your trailer like a caged animal. There wasn’t any room in your mind to think about the crowd, the heat, or the extensive team counting on you to make it a worthwhile show. All that you could focus on was your lack of guitarists and the proposition from your #1 enemy in the music industry. Before you could cross from the kitchen tile to the living area carpet for the umpteenth time, the door threw itself open to reveal your breathless manager. 
“We found guitarists! Let’s go, before they change their mind,” she commands. You thank the music festival gods for whomever she found, even happier knowing that it couldn’t be Gojo and Geto because their band had just finished on the other largest stage. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” you answer uneasily, still reeling from switching panic-mode into show-mode within minutes. “Let’s just hope they’re good.” 
This next artist needs no introduction…
The golf cart parks sidestage. 
Dominating the pop charts for twelve straight weeks, taking the industry by storm…
You wink at the handful of screaming fans that spot you before ducking backstage. 
And nominated for the most prestigious awards in the music world…
The stagehand slips the pack onto the waistband of your pants and hands you a mic. 
Performing live and streaming around the world… [CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Intro, 2-3-4. 1…2…1-2-3 and–] Make some noise for–
“Yo, Satoru. You got an extra pick?” Your synths come in at the same time you whirl around, heart dropping into your stomach when you see the two guitarists behind you. You recognize Geto with his signature black hair tied up in a bun and catching rays of sunlight reflecting off the turtle shell body of his electric guitar. The limited interactions you had with Geto were pleasant, but the same couldn’t be said about the other musician fishing a pick from his leather pants. “Thanks,” Geto says as he sticks the spare in his pocket, clocking your shocked expression and giving you an apologetic shrug. “Sorry we’re a little late, the set ran a little long because this dumbass wanted to do another encore. I made the golf cart guy race over here, though.” He motions in the direction of your temporary lead guitarist, who unsuccessfully tries to clean his sunglasses with his fishnet shirt. “Oi, hotshot. Get ready, we’re on soon.” CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Drums and bass in. 1…2…1-2-3 and– 
“They’re smudged,” Gojo pouts and you act without thinking, snatching the glasses from his hands, wiping it on your own costume, and handing it back to him without meeting his gaze. “Oh. Thank you,” he mumbles, sticking them on his face and trying to catch your eye. There were too many things happening at once for you to worry about him.
“Mhmm. Thanks for filling in,” you choke out with no trace of malice, the pressure in your forehead and chest becoming suffocating. The gravity of your performance crashes down on you in one disorienting wave and you blink in an attempt to clear the sudden blurry spots in your vision. Hundreds of thousands of eyes, waiting on you, watching you, worshiping you. The biggest performance of your career thus far, and you were going onstage prepared with nothing but a terrible soundcheck and two rock stars that probably didn’t give a shit about pop music. It was too much, it was all too much–
“Hey.” It’s him, breaking through the static as the click fades into the background, any panic replaced by the feeling of your biggest rival lightly touching the side of your face. He wipes a stray bead of sweat from your forehead, and you’re close enough to see every shimmering fleck of turquoise in his eyes. The crowd noise is staggering, but all he sees is you. “You look beautiful.” 
“Satoru,” you whisper, barely able to verbalize your panic. He understands anyway, confidence radiating from his body. 
“I’m with you. I’ve gotcha,” he reassures you, letting you mirror him as he takes a deep breath. “You trust me?” CLICK! 2-3-4. CLICK! 2-3-4. Guitars in, vocals enter. 1…2…1-2-3 and–
“I-I do.” 
“Great.” His grin is dazzling, heart-stopping. All of him, he’s yours. “Let’s have some fun, then.” 
— 
You sleepily blink open an eye as you register the ringtone for your publicist playing on the nightstand. Outstretching a tired arm, you find it a little hard to move with the other occupant of the bed securing you against his chest. You mutter Satoru’s name, unsure if he’s awake yet; he grunts with his eyes still closed and you figure it’s unconscious, the way his muscles tighten around your waist to pull you closer. You groan as the phone screen blinks off, then on again with another insistent call. 
“Satoru, you need to let me go.”
“I already did that once,” he mumbles into the pillowcase, “and I’m not making that mistake again.”
“I need to pick up the phone, baby. It’s my publicist,” you counter gently and it’s his turn to groan, reluctantly peeling away to rub his eyes. “Thank you,” you say sweetly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before answering the phone. 
There you are. Good morning, Sleeping Beauty, says your publicist, her incredulity obvious.
“Mhmm, good morning to you too. Everything okay?” You squint against the morning sun breaking through the windows of Satoru’s loft, the city skyline casting rainbows on the walls. 
Everything’s great, just wanted to let you know what’s been happening media-wise. 
“They figure out where we are yet?”
Not yet, no. But, you know how these things go. They’ll find you eventually, so savor the time you have with him now. Right now, you have a lot of late-night outlets asking for interviews and a few charity ball performances lined up. It’s all stuff you can handle, don’t worry. Aside from the scheduling talk, her warnings were things you already knew. It was weeks before social media users finally settled down after Satoru and Suguru joined you on stage. Satoru had even convinced you to create a burner account so you could scroll through all the edits and fancams of you two. Now that you’d reconciled your feelings about Satoru and agreed to let you two make up for all the time you lost to your stubbornness, it was relatively peaceful. On another note, I did see a pretty cute reel counting all the times he looked at you during your festival set. 
“Yeah? And how many times was it?”
More than you looked at him, which is saying something, she chuckles. I’m still reeling from how chaotic the crowd was when those two walked out with you. You’d think there was a fire breaking out, or something. 
“They were pretty loud, weren’t they?” You smile softly at the memory of strutting out in your boots with Satoru and Suguru on either side of you. “I think they went crazier when Satoru started soloing, though.”
“I’m not called the best for nothing, sweetheart,” he murmurs from behind you with a smirk. “These hands are worth millions, and you get them for free–”
“Okay, that’s enough from you,” you cut in before he says anything more. “Please, ignore him.”
What’d he say? 
“Nothing important.” Your cheeks heat and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, only to be met by a self-satisfied wink that makes your heart race. 
I’ll take your word for it. What’s your plans for today? 
“Breakfast, probably, and then maybe head down to the shopping district.”
That’s pretty public, no? 
“I don’t mind. I’m ready for whatever they throw at us,” you shrug, honestly feeling like you couldn’t care less about being seen with Satoru. You look over at him again and find boyish, giddy excitement written all over his face. He was yours and you were his, mind, body, and soul. Let the cameras come, let the tabloids rave, let the fake fans criticize, you think to yourself.
As long as you two were together, you were untouchable.
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rxsafetyglasses · 4 months
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Level up your golf experience with Golf Sunglasses: the perfect fusion of style and clarity for every swing
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saltyenthusiastpizza · 7 months
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sanajames · 7 months
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ainschemba · 1 year
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What To Look For In A Quality Golf Bag: Durability, Functionality, And Design
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Are you in the market for a quality golf bag? It can be difficult to decide which one is right for you. But don't worry, we're here to help! When selecting your perfect golf bag, there are three key factors: durability, functionality, and design.
Golf bags come in all shapes and sizes but what truly matters when it comes to performance is how durable it is. Whether you're an avid golfer or just starting out, having a reliable bag that will stand up against wear and tear is essential. That way, you won't have to worry about unexpected surprises on the course.
Functionality should also be at the top of your list when looking for a good golf bag. You'll want something with plenty of pockets and dividers so everything stays organized during play. And let's not forget style – who says practical has to mean boring? Look for a bag that fits your personal aesthetic while still providing maximum protection and storage space.
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What To Consider Before Buying
When it comes to choosing a quality golf bag, there are many things to consider. A buying guide can help you narrow down your options and find the one that's best for you. Budgeting is an important factor when shopping around; some bags range in price from $50 to over $200 depending on brand and features.
Brand options vary greatly, with names like Callaway, TaylorMade, Titleist, Ping, and Mizuno providing great selections of quality golf bags. If you're looking for extra weather protection, look into waterproof materials or zippered covers designed specifically for protecting equipment during rainstorms or other inclement weather conditions.
The most important criteria when selecting a golf bag should be durability, functionality and design. Choose a model made from durable material; this will ensure years of use without it succumbing to wear-and-tear damage too quickly. Look for features such as pockets for storing balls and tees or straps for easy carrying - these amenities make all the difference in terms of convenience when out on the course. Lastly, take into account how the bag looks: does its style fit your personality? The perfect golf bag combines long-lasting construction with useful features and pleasing aesthetics.
Material Type And Construction
When shopping for golf bags, it's important to consider the material type and construction quality. Ideally, the bag should be made from durable materials that can withstand wear and tear. Look for weatherproofing or waterproofing features to protect your clubs from rain or moisture. It's also useful if the bag has other protection features such as reinforced stitching and heavy-duty zippers.
In addition to being strong enough to last through multiple rounds of golf, a good golf bag should also have features that make it more functional. For example, look for bags with pockets on both sides so you can easily store tees, balls, markers and other items while out on the course. The straps need to be comfortable yet adjustable in order to provide proper support when carrying heavier loads. Lastly, design is key - choose a style that fits your personal taste but still offers plenty of space for all of your equipment.
Finally, check reviews online before buying a new golf bag. This will give you an idea about how well the product performs under different conditions and whether it meets your standards for durability and functionality.
Features And Accessories
A quality golf bag should have all the features and accessories necessary for a successful round. Ergonomic straps make carrying your clubs comfortable, while dividers keep them in order. Pockets are essential to store tees, balls, gloves, sunglasses and other items that you may need during your game. A rain hood will protect your equipment if it starts raining unexpectedly. Finally, look for bags made of waterproof material so they can handle any weather conditions on the course.
The right combination of features and accessories will improve both performance and enjoyment of your game. When choosing a golf bag, consider how much storage space is needed; what kind of pockets would be most useful; and which type of ergonomic straps best suit your needs. Make sure there are enough compartments to separate different types of clubs easily and that the bag has a sturdy frame for added stability when walking or riding around the course. Also check if there's an integrated rain hood included in case you get caught out in bad weather.
When looking at features and accessories, ensure that they add value to gameplay as well as style points. Quality materials like tarpaulin fabric and high-grade leather help create superior durability without sacrificing comfort or flexibility – important factors when shopping for a good golf bag! With these considerations taken into account, you'll be able to find one with everything necessary for success on the green - from practicality to versatility - making every outing easier than ever before
Storage Capacity And Transportability
When looking for a quality golf bag, storage capacity and transportability are two essential aspects to consider. Bag size will determine how many items you can store in it while weight capacity determines the amount of equipment you can carry. It's important that your bag is lightweight enough so that it won't be too difficult to move around. Carrying straps should also be comfortable and durable, allowing you to easily lift and transport the bag without straining yourself.
It’s helpful if the golf bags has multiple pockets or compartments where small items such as tees, ball markers, scorecards, etc., can be stored conveniently. If possible, look for bags with waterproof fabric and water-resistant zippers which help keep contents dry even when caught in rain or snow. A well-designed pocket system ensures no item gets misplaced during play or transportation.
Before buying a high-quality golf bag, check its features and accessories carefully to ensure they meet all your needs and provide convenience while playing on the course. Also make sure the storage capacity and transportability of the bag fit perfectly into your lifestyle. Investing in a good quality golf bag will not only improve your game but also last longer compared to cheaper alternatives.
Comfort And Style
A quality golf bag needs to have both comfort and style. It should be designed in a way that makes it practical for carrying, with straps that are comfortable enough for long walks around the course. The padding on the back of the bag is also important; it helps make sure your clubs stay safe and adds an extra layer of comfort when you’re lugging your gear up hills or across bridges.
When considering what kind of design you want, think about how often you'll use the bag and where. If you're playing at different courses more than once a week, then having something stylish will help give you confidence as well as convenience. Look for bags with attractive colors or patterns that match your look so you can hit shots feeling like part of the club.
Comfort and style go hand-in-hand in terms of finding the right golf bag. Make sure to take into account carrying capacity, padding on the back, and overall design before making your purchase to ensure you get one that's perfect for your game day after day.
Conclusion
When it comes to buying a golf bag, there are several important factors to consider. Durability and construction should be top priority when selecting the right one for you. It's also essential to check out the features and accessories that come with the bag, as well as its storage capacity and transportability. Lastly, don't forget about comfort and style - pick something that looks good on you!
I've taken all of these into account when shopping for my own golf bag over the years. In doing so, I've found bags that have served me well and lasted longer than expected. And while they may not always be cheap, investing in a quality product is worth it in the long run.
So make sure you do your research before committing to any purchase; look at what others are saying about different brands and models online, read reviews from experts or experienced players, then decide which golf bag best suits your needs. You won't regret it!
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jimmydemaret · 4 years
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Wiley X Omega
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jeyramarie · 3 years
Text
Spy games- Pogues x OC
summary: friendships are put to the test when trust is the only thing they lack.
wc: 3,623
a/n: here it is! things get a bit intense from here on out so stay tuned. if you wanna tagged you can ask @halsmultibitch or me!! happy reading 🦋
prologue~ pilot~ the lucky compass~ the forbidden zone~
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Previously on Good Life.. 
“Do you see anything?” he asked, suddenly hearing the boys laugh in cheer. 
“It’s the Royal Merchant!” John B shouted in victory as he saw the wreckage on the screen feeling as if his father was standing right there with him. 
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“It’s not there. Just..just pull the drone up.” John B said feeling disappointed when they didn’t see any gold after looking for some time. 
“We can go again.” Fallon told him as she moved her hair from her face.
“Yeah, we can recharge the battery and go back down.” Pope said as he turned to John B  while also dealing with the drone. 
“We’ve done it three time. There’s nothing there!” JJ shouted, immediately receiving a slap on the arm from Lani. 
“Shut up!” Kie yelled at the blonde making him turn to her.
“What? It’s true.” 
“Seriously, JJ?” the kook asked, giving him a disappointed look. 
“If it was there, it would’ve been found on the metal detector. Someone beat us to it.” the shaggy haired pogue said sadly as he sat down and pulled his hood up, blocking himself from the situation. 
“Or it was never there.” The blonde muttered as he began to sail back to the Chateau. 
The next day, Fallon spent it with JJ while he practiced with the gun. Luke was gone which gave her the clear on going to the blonde’s house. They were currently in the backyard, Fallon ranting as usual as JJ got his gun ready. 
“She was all over you on the boat and you’re just gonna ignore it?” she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. 
“She wasn’t over me, Fal. What’s up with you? Why are you so jealous?” 
“Pfft, I'm not jealous, I just think it’s ridiculous.” she scoffed as the blonde finally turned to her in question. 
“I’m not jealous!”
“Fine, fine. You’re not… if you say so.” JJ lifted his hands in surrender before turning back to his gun. Fallon was about to answer when the blonde started shooting his gun at a teddy bear perched on a log. After a few minutes, Pope came by and started screaming at JJ. The blonde couldn’t hear due to the headphones he had on which made Fallon stand up and tap him on the shoulder. 
“JJ! They know.” the pogue shouted as the blonde took off the head piece. 
“What?” 
“They know.” 
“Wait, wait. Who’s they and what do they know?” Fallon asked, looking at the boys in confusion. 
“Just chill bro, all right?” JJ said as he walked towards Pope, placing his hand on his shoulders. Leaving the caramel haired pogue completely ignored. 
“They don’t know shit, okay?” 
“Topper knows I sunk the boat.” the pogue muttered not wanting Fallon to hear. 
“How do you know they know?” 
“What did you guys do?” the pogue finally asked with her arms crossed over her chest as the boys stared at her. They looked at each other and Pope nodded which caused JJ to look at the floor and sighed. 
“Fine, tell her.” the blonde said annoyingly as he turned to walk towards the bench that was close to the house. 
“Rafe and Topper jumped me while I was delivering on Figure 8 and well… then I kind of sunk Topper’s boat.” Pope rambled as Fallon stared at him in disbelief. 
“Rafe? h-he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t have done that.” she laughed dryly as her fingers ran through her hair. 
“Yes, Rafe. Wh- you don’t believe me or what?” the curly haired pogue asked, looking back and forth between Fallon and JJ who was walking back toward them. 
“Are you defending Rafe right now?” the blonde asked angrily with his eyebrows furrowed as he stood in front of Fallon. 
“I just don’t believe he would do something like that.” 
“Why?” 
“Yeah, Rafe's a horrible person.” Pope stated putting his hands in his pockets.
“No, he’s not.” 
“Oh, he’s not?” JJ asked bitterly. 
“No.” 
“Why are you defending him so much?” the blonde asked, feeling anger course through his body as Fallon felt more and more annoyed. 
“Because he has never been mean to me. Not once!” 
“He’s probably only nice to you cause he likes to stare at your tits.” 
“Oh really?” she laughed dryly as she crossed her arms. 
“Yes, really. You don’t even believe Pope when he tells you Rafe fucking hit him in the face with golf club. How can you just- Are you two fucking or something? Is that it?” JJ said angrily immediately feeling a sting on his left cheek. Fallon had slapped him with every bit of anger in her. 
“Don’t you ever talk to me like that.” she said with gritted teeth and walked away to her car. She quickly drove away, still having the conversation fresh in her head. All Fallon thought about was wanting to go home, far away from the blonde pogue who had captured her heart like no other. That same night was the annual movie night that was held in the OBX. A lot of people go, especially kids. This year, Kie invited her to go with boys and Lani but after that argument, she wasn’t going anywhere. 
“I’m so glad that they’re still doing this. You know? Aren’t you glad I made you come?” Kie smiled walking towards an empty area followed by JJ, Pope and Lani. 
“Ecstatic.” Pope said dryly, rolling his eyes making Lani chuckle. 
“My couch was pretty comfy. I’ll be honest.” JJ said annoyingly at Kie watching her place the beach chair and cooler on the ground. 
“I have no opinion yet but for now, i’m liking it.” Lani smiled sitting on her blanket that was placed kneetly on the floor. 
“We’re out in the green zone, man.” Pope muttered as he opened his beach chair next to Kie’s. 
“Dude, tranquilo, okay?” JJ said, trying to get the pogue to calm down. 
“What are you guys blabbering about?” Lani chuckled as she looked at the boys whose eyes widened thinking the kook had heard them. 
“Nothing.. nothing.” The blonde shook his head and sat down, followed by Pope who was suspiciously looking around. 
“Hey, I'm gonna go get some drinks. Does anyone want anything?” Kie asked as she rummaged through her wallet to take out the money. The boys shook their heads and Lani told her what she wanted, making her mutter an ‘okay’ making her way to the food stand. A few minutes later she came strutting back, turning her head to look behind her. 
“Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote, ’Tell your boy that we know what he did.’” She said as she handed Lani her drink and sat down. 
“What does he mean?” The kook asked, turning to the boys who were looking all around them desperately. 
“Where is he?” 
“Right there.” Kie said pointing towards the back where Topper, Kelce and Rafe were at. 
“Great, the whole death squad.” 
“Don’t look, bro.” JJ said, turning his head harshly as they huddled up to start muttering. 
“Just warning you, bro. If they corner me, I’m coming out swinging, okay? Slicin’ and dicin’, I'm on edge, right now.” The girls stared at each other and looked back at the boys who were muttering something about a school of fish. 
“If that doesn’t work, I got this right here.” He said holding up his backpack to let Pope know that he was protected. 
“JJ? honey? yeah, umm. What’s in the backpack?” Lani asked, pointing at it as she looked at the pogue in question. She turned her head to Kie who returned the questionable stare. 
“I’m sorry, JJ. Please tell me you did not bring a gun here. JJ, there’s kids.” Kie scolded, staring at the blonde with wide eyes. 
“Kie, I didn’t bring a gun. Everything’s fine, okay?” 
“Wow, that’s really convincing. I love that, JJ.” The pogue said sarcastically as Lani turned to sit straight. 
“I’m never leaving you alone with my children.” she muttered, making Kiara chuckle as she sipped her drink. 
“Guys, founding principal. No secret among pogues. What was Rafe talking about?” Kie asked leaning forward not letting go of the conversation. 
“Girls, it might go down tonight.” JJ said, leaning forward closer to the girls. Lani lowered her sunglasses to look at the pogue in confusion and then turned to Kie asking for an explanation. 
“What did you guys do?” The kook asked the blonde, making him turn to Pope and grab his shoulder. 
“Deny, deny, deny.” he muttered and turned back to the big screen ignoring the girls’ questionable faces. After 30 minutes since the movie started, the boys stood up making Lani look at them immediately. 
“Where are you guys going?” She whispered as Pope turned to her. 
“We’re gonna wring it out.” he whispered back, making Kie look up from her popcorn. 
“You’re gonna hold it for each other?” the pogues whispered, catching the kook off guard causing her to snort as she drank her soda. A few minutes went by when Rafe and his guys walked behind the screen where Pope and JJ had run off to. Lani saw this and slapped Kie’s leg. 
“We should go check on the boys. Something’s probably wrong.” she whispered, making Kie look at the side of the screen to see Topper walk through it. The pogue nodded her head and quickly stood up as Lani leaned over to grab JJ’s backpack. They walked around the screen and gasped at what they saw. Kelce was holding on to JJ’s arms as Topper continued to punch his abdomen. A few feet away stood Rafe with his arm around Pope’s neck making him choke. 
“Get off of him!” Kie shouted as she ran and threw herself on Rafe’s back making him let go of Pope. The pogue fell to the ground and started coughing harshly. Lani let go of the backpack and ran towards Topper, punching him in the back. The kook turned around and towered over Lani making her take a few steps back. 
“Oh look who’s here protecting her little boyfriend.” Topper siad with an evil smirk as he kept moving towards Lani who stepped back in fear. JJ somehow got out of Kelce’s grasp and ran to stand between Topper and Lani. 
“Don’t you dare touch her.” The blonde said with gritted teeth as he pressed a finger to Toper’s chest, making him stop. 
“Yeah? What are you gonna do?” The kook dared as Kelce silently walked behind Lani to wrap his arms around her. She let out a loud scream making JJ turn to her as Topper took the opportunity to hit his head causing the pogue to fall. Suddenly, Lani got pushed to the ground along with Kie. They both lifted their heads and groaned making sure both of them were okay. 
“Lani, the bag.” Kie whispered and pointed to JJ’s backpack that was right next to the kook. She quickly started rummaging through it as the pogue left to help the boys. Her hand touched a cold metal making her look into the bag, thinking it was the gun but instead it was JJ’s lighter. The same lighter he carried around everywhere. Lani crawled towards the corner of the movie screen and lit the lighter, puting it close to the white cloth. The fire started to spread across the cloth, the movie still playing, as everyone gasped and screamed while they ran away. The kooks saw the flames and let go of the pogue boys quickly making a run for it. 
“Pope, you okay?” Kie asked him as she kneeled next to him, helping him sit up. He shook his head and groaned, holding onto his side, feeling his ribs scream at him. 
“Why would you do that, Lani?” JJ asked loudly as he stood up, starting to limp towards the kook who stared at the flames in fear while clutching the backpack tightly. 
“I was trying to help, they were hurting you. I didn’t know what else to do.” she said nervously as JJ got closer, yanking the backpack off her hands. 
“You could’ve gotten hurt, Lani.” 
“I’m sorry, I just- I- sorry.” she stuttered as her hands started to shake with anxiety. JJ grabbed her shoulder and pulled her towards him for a hug. It was quickly interrupted when Kie walked towards them as she helped Pope stand up straight. 
“Guys, we have to go before the cops get here.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.” Lani sniffled, grabbing JJ’s arm. They all quickly made it to Kie’s car and started to make their way home. The boys were dropped off first with strict instruction from Lani on how to treat the pain and bruises. On the way back to their houses, Kie and Lani stayed in silence for a bit, listening to Marley. 
“I hope next year’s movie night is better.” The kook said, turning her head to the pogue whose eyes stayed on the road. 
“It will. I know it.” Kie chuckled and leaned in to turn up the volume when one of her favorite songs came on. 
The next day came around with a bright sun and a warm breeze. The pogues were all working, Lani too, while Fallon slept in since it was her day off. She was going to take the afternoon to look for a midsummer dress for the next day, which was going to take a while. The pogue started getting ready around 4, the same time her friends got out of work but she was still mad at JJ for what happened. Which caused her to not want any interaction with them. Her mom dropped her off and told her to give her a call when she had found THE dress. 
At the meantime, the pogues and Lani were hanging out at Heyward’s after their work shifts. They were discussing something stupid JJ had said about the fight that took place the night before while Lani helped stock the paper aisle. None of them noticed, but the police car had just pulled up outside the door, looking for one of the pogues. 
“Hey, Pope. Someone here to see you.” Heyward said, breaking the teens' laughter as they all changed their heads towards the door. 
“Evening, officer.” Pope nodded at the man respectfully as Shoupe reached behind him, pulling out a piece of paper. 
“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.” He said as he walked towards the counter, pulling out the handcuffs. 
“What?” Lani shouted, walking out of the aisle to meet Shoupe in the middle.
“Get out of the way young lady. Hands where I can see ‘em.” He slightly shoved the kook to the side and walked towards Pope who was shaking in fear. 
“Woah, Shoupe, what’d he do?” JJ asked, getting off the counter the second he saw his best friend being put in handcuffs. 
“Look at the warrant.” he answered dryly as he pushed Pope to start walking outside. 
“You’re arresting him?” Kie shouted grabbing the warrant in shock as she watched her friend walk out.
“You’re arresting my boy?” Heyward said, finally finding his voice. 
“Why are you doing this? Be careful!” Lani yelled when she saw the sheriff push the pogue harshly. She followed Pope and Shoupe close behind, never giving them space. 
“Shoupe, are you listening?” JJ shouted in anger as the pogue got closer to the car. Everyone started shouting at Shoupe about the whole thing, not letting him put Pope in the car which gave the blonde some time to stay back and think. 
“It wasn’t him!” JJ screamed out of instinct, making everyone shut up and turn to him. 
“It was me. He tried to talk me out of it but I was fucking pissed. Cause those kook assholes from Figure Eight beat him up.” He said pointing down the road as he walked towards Pope. 
“I can’t let you take the blame for something I did. You’ve got too much to lose.” The blonde whispered to his best friend who was still in shock from the whole situation. 
“JJ? Wh-what are you doing? No..no.” Lani said, walking around Heyward and Kie to stand in front of him. JJ ignored the kook’s sad eyes and stared at Shoupe. 
“I’m telling the truth, I swear. Took his oldman’s boat, too.” 
“What the hell?” Heyward said, sending the pogue a small death stare. Pope tried to stop him but of course, it didn’t work.
“Shut up, Pope!” Shoupe wanted to confirm what JJ was saying so he asked Pope if it was true, resulting in more shouting towards the blonde. Once the pogue assured JJ “wasn’t lying”, he got released from the cuff. 
“JJ, why are you doing this?” Lani asked, pushing her hands onto his chest, trying to look at his eyes but he completely ignored her gaze. Shoupe walked behind JJ and placed the cuffs on him. He pushed the blonde towards the car causing the kook to be on the verge of tears. 
On the other side of the island, Fallon was in the store filled with all types of dresses. Some were long and delicate while others were short and puffy. Fallon was never fond of dresses, the only ones she wore were bikini cover ups. She wasn’t fond of bright colors either which meant she was leaning to a darker dress. After what felt like hours, she pulled out a burgundy dress. It was long, with a crossed back, making her eyes sparkle. 
As she inspectioned the dress, a car drove in front of the store coming to a stop. The driver lowered the window and stared at the pogue with admiration. He quickly parked the car and walked into the store, looking for her again. After some time, Fallon walked out of the dressing room, sporting the dress. She felt someone staring at her and turned her head to see the boy she least expected. 
“Rafe? wh-what are you doing here?” She chuckled, walking towards him. 
“I saw you while I was driving through. Just wanted to come see you… Hope that’s not weird.” He said starting to get nervous. Fallon blushed as her smile grew.
“Well, thank you. That’s really sweet. But now that you’re here, what do you think?” she asked as she walked backwards to twirl for him. He chuckled as she twirled. 
“It looks… fantastic. It’s very you.” 
“It is? Ugh, I’m glad it looks good. I wasn’t gonna handle my mother tomorrow.” They both laughed and Fallon continued to stare at herself as Rafe looked at her. 
“Will you go to midsummers with me?” She quickly turned to him with wide eyes while he continued to stare at his shoes. 
“Umm, I- well…. I would love to go with you.” Fallon smiled as he lifted his head with a cute grin. Rafe ran his hand through his hair giving her a full look of his bruised knuckles. 
“Oh my god.” she gasped quickly grabbing his hand making Rafe hiss in pain. 
“What happened?” 
“Um, just trying to fix up my bike.” Rafe stuttered not wanting Fallon to know that he got them from beating the shit out of her friends the night before. 
“There’s mechanics for that, you know that right?” she chuckled lightly making him chuckle too, in relief. 
“Yeah, I've learned my lesson-”
“You two make a great couple.” the seamstress of the store said, interrupting Rafe as she walked out of her sewing room. They both looked at her and smiled, not really knowing how to answer that.
“Do you want me to take you home?” 
“Yes, please. Let me get changed and we can go.” Rafe nodded as Fallon ran back into the dressing room to change back into her clothes. She quickly paid for the dress and walked out of the store with Rafe next to her. 
He couldn’t believe Fallon agreed to go to midsummer with him. Rafe always thought she had a thing for JJ or someone else that wasn’t him. Which caught him by surprise when she said yes to the invitation. 
“So you’re walking in with your parents right?” Fallon asked, breaking the silence as she stared at him and back at the road. 
“Yeah, I am. I’m sure you’ll be walking in with me?” He nervously drifted his eyes back and forth between Fallon and the road. 
“Of course. You’ll wait for me outside right?” 
“Yeah, of course.” She smiled widely and turned back to the road to see that she was almost home. Rafe pulled up on Fallon’s driveway bringing the car to a stop. 
“Thank you for bringing me home.” 
“Of course, anytime.” They both stared at each other for a while until Rafe got the courage to start leaning in. Fallon didn’t notice but she started to lean in too. They shared a soft kiss as his hand went to her cheek. The kiss got more intense by the second as she grasped his shirt tightly. Rafe’s tongue swept over Fallon’s bottom lip making her gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity. Their tongues battled for domination as the car turned hot with the heat radiating from their bodies. Fallon pulled away with her forehead against his as she caught her breath.
“Wait for me outside tomorrow.” Rafe nodded and she got out of the car quickly walking to her front door. Fallon waved at him before walking in, feeling dizzy from the special moment. The kook smiled and drove to his house as a certain pogue stared at the car. JJ stood alone on the street, holding flowers, completely shocked at what he had just seen. He wanted to go to Fallon to apologize for what happened but instead he showed up to see the kiss. He took a deep breath and walked around, making his way back home as he threw a dozen roses to the side of the road.
good life: @ilovefandoms102 @agardenofbooks @cloverrover
74 notes · View notes
nitewrighter · 5 years
Note
Have you ever considered for doing a fic of a double date? Any ships you want!
Haven’t written for McHanzo or Symmarah for a while, and I’ve always wanted to develop Hanzo and Symmetra’s rapport in my fics more.
——-
“…Why?” said Hanzo, watching McCree straighten his collar in the mirror.
“No one ever has to justify wearing a bolo tie,” said McCree, tucking his shirt in.
“You know that’s not what I mean. Why are we doing this?” said Hanzo.
“Civvy night’s important to Pharah,” said McCree, “And Pharah’s important to me. I’ve known her since she was a skinny little scamp about yea high.” He brought a hand halfway up his ribs, “Anyway we need stuff like this. We’re fighting a long fight.”
Hanzo adjusted his own dark blue blazer that he was wearing over a tasteful yellow v-neck shirt, a result of an afternoon ‘thrifting’ with Tracer and Brigitte. That whole excursion was utterly baffling to him until Tracer offhandedly mentioned Genji and Hanzo had immediately realized that it was Genji who had suggested they invite him along in yet another attempt to try and ingratiate him to the rest of the Watchpoint. He had confronted Genji about it, but Genji had more or less played it off with, ‘I just thought you should get some new clothes since you’re staying with us’  which, infuriatingly, was true, but there was something sickening about the idea of Genji running around the watchpoint asking people to hang out with his poor lonely brother who murdered him. If it wasn’t thrifting with Brigitte and Tracer, it was morning jogs with Reinhardt, or Winston’s movie night—even Mercy had managed to stuff down her dislike of him enough to invite him along to her book club. Book clubs! What kind of illegal splinter organization had book clubs?! And for the record, no, he wasn’t willing to discuss the fact that Where the Crawdads Sing had made him cry.
“Hey—You in there, darlin’?” said McCree and Hanzo suddenly snapped back to the present.
Hanzo glanced down a bit self consciously, picking a stray bit of lint off of his blazer. “Did you plan this with Genji?” he asked.
“Nah—this is me and Pharah dragging you and Satya along in a night of shenanigans. Y’know, balancing out the friend stuff with the couple-y stuff.”
“…you would consider us as close as Fareeha and Satya?” said Hanzo arching an eyebrow.
“I mean…” McCree scratched at his stubble, unsure of how to respond to that and Hanzo realized what he had just said could be taken in a more hurtful way than he intended.
“That wasn’t what I— I mean I do lo—like you. You are important to me. They just… seem more… established.”
“Hey— it’s not like we’re going to be aggressively making out next to each other—we’re just hanging out,” said McCree. Hanzo was quiet, glancing down. McCree put a hand on his shoulder. “Look, if you’re really not comfortable with it, we can call the whole thing off. But, on the other hand, Fareeha’s one of the coolest people I know. This isn’t Genji trying to get you buddy-buddy with the watchpoint, this is me hoping we can all hang.” McCree thought for a moment, “Plus… Symmetra’s all… classy and stuff—She never really took to me, so maybe she might take to you. But again—I can call the whole thing—”
“Fine,” said Hanzo.
McCree smiled and kissed his eyebrow. “You won’t regret it.”
“Mm,” Hanzo grunted in response, not really sure what he just agreed to as both of them walked out of the apartment.
“Well well well… look who the cat dragged in,” a voice called up from below and McCree looked down over the balcony of the admin apartments to see Pharah standing in the lot below in a leather jacket and aviator sunglasses.
“You got a lotta nerve showing your face back here, Amari!” McCree fired back.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve wearing a bolo tie!” said Pharah.
“I don’t have to justify myself to you!” said McCree, “RAAAAHH!!!” he practically vaulted down the stairs and Pharah bounded up to meet him.
“YAAAAAAAH!” She caught him around the waist and hoisted him terrifyingly easily up on her shoulder.
“Jes-US ‘Reeha what have you been eating?” said McCree, the wind half-knocked out of him from the lift.
“More protein than you, I can tell you that much,” said Pharah, planting McCree back down on the ground. They bumped fists and then took each other up in a one armed hug. “It’s been too long, cowboy,” said Pharah, before looking over to Hanzo, “Hey! We uh… haven’t talked much, but anyone who can put up with Jesse is all right with me,” she held her fist out
“I’m told you were among the first to answer the recall,” said Hanzo. He glanced down at her still extended fist and nearly moved to shake her hand, then had to consciously make his own hand a fist to bump hers. The delay was clumsy, awkward. Stupid, he thought.
“Ha, yeah, Overwatch brat with something to prove,” said Pharah, tucking her beaded braids of hair back, “But no missions tonight! It’s civvy night!”
“Civvy night!” said McCree, “Speaking of which… where’s Our Lady Of Geometry?”
“Oh, Satya’s gonna be here, trust me,” said Pharah, “Come on.”
She started walking briskly and McCree and Hanzo followed after her. McCree glanced over at Hanzo, who was glancing off with a furrowed brow. Hanzo felt something brush against his hand and glanced down to see the pinkie of McCree’s prosthetic extended to him, touching his knuckles. Hanzo wrapped his fingers around McCree’s prosthetic and looked up at him. When all was said and done, McCree did look good with a bolo tie. There was an odd comfort in that.
“Okay,” Pharah was walking backward towards the Watchpoint hangar, “I just want you guys to… keep an open mind, okay?”
“An open mind?” said Hanzo, arching an eyebrow.
“Well usually for civvy night we just go out for snacks and bar food—that kind of stuff—and I know usually the point of civvy night is getting away from the watchpoint but Satya wanted to try something new, so…” Pharah opened the door and both McCree and Hanzo’s eyes widened. The entire hangar was a wonderland of blue and white, filled with hard-light structures of miniature castles, sphinxes and pyramids, a miniature mountain with a sparkling waterfall and a dragon perched atop it, windmills, and an impressively big construct of a diplodocus moving its massive neck up and down. A layer of hard-light was stretched across the floor, levels shifting slightly with holes placed at various points near the fantastical constructs of castles and dinosaurs and windmills.
“Mini-golf?!” McCree blurted out.
“It was an interesting challenge,” a voice spoke behind them and both McCree and Hanzo whirled on their heels to see Symmetra in a high-waisted white skirt and sky-blue polo, leaning against the wall behind them, “But I haven’t had an interesting challenge in a while. The visual research, while…. incredibly tacky, was uniquely inspiring. And it’s not often that I have to run simulations as extensively as I did here. I even had to bring in outside consultation.”
“Outside consultation?” said Hanzo.
“Jack Morrison was surprisingly helpful,” said Satya.
“Jack,” McCree repeated incredulously, “You got Jack to help you plan a mini-golf course.”
“He was quite amenable to the concept if it came with the promise of customized putting constructs in his own quarters,” said Satya.
McCree looked back out at the pyramids and castles and the diplodocus slowly moving its neck up and down.
“Not that I need your approval, but…. I wouldn’t say I had a stick up my posterior now, would I?” said Symmetra, sidling up alongside him.
“I never said you had a stick up your—“ McCree caught himself and realized he had said something along those lines, only he hadn’t used the word ‘posterior.’
“Satya this is—-“ McCree took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair, at a loss for words, “This is honestly amazing. Thank you. You didn’t have to do all this—“
“I know,” said Satya, smugly, “But,” she materialized a putter out of hard-light in her hands, “What you may not realize about me is that I enjoy a challenge.” Hanzo glanced over at Pharah who was also grinning at this. Satya held the putter out to McCree and McCree took it.
“And bowling was out,” said Pharah, catching another putter as Satya tossed it to her. Satya handed the final putter to Hanzo.
“…I’m… not very well-practiced in golf,” said Hanzo, looking around at the constructs, still perplexed
“Well that’s the good thing about mini-golf—less rich people bullshit, less pressure… and everything’s kind of kitschy so you don’t take yourself as seriously,” said McCree, testing the weight of his own putter in his hands.
“I thought it would be appropriate with your focus on… accuracy?” Satya offered, “And it’s tackiness I thought would fit Jesse quite nicely.”
“Ouch,” said McCree, but Pharah just snickered and elbowed him.
“Rules are simple, try to get it into the hole with as few strokes as possible–lowest score wins,” said Pharah, shouldering her own putter.
“I understand the basic concepts of golf,” said Hanzo, flatly before catching himself. He cleared his throat. “Very well. I accept this challenge.”
Satya materialized a hovering screen with a grid featuring all their names in neat little boxes, “I do always say, ‘what game is complete without a grid?,’” she said, smiling.
“Of course you would,” said Pharah and Satya’s smile turned wry.
“Waaaaait a second, if the balls are constructs, too, how do we know you won’t cheat?” said McCree.
“You don’t,” said Satya.
“It’ll give you an excuse when we wipe the floor with you?” suggested Pharah.
“Good enough for me,” said McCree, “More fun than a bar night, anyway.”
“Oh! That reminds me!” said Pharah, hurrying off before coming back lugging a large cooler over loaded with ice and bottles of beer, as well as a few cans of sparkling water for anyone who didn’t drink (namely Satya—not a fan of the taste, apparently). McCree cracked open a bottle with his lighter and handed it to Hanzo before opening one himself.
“McCree can I get that lighter—” Pharah started.
“Here, my light,” said Satya, materializing a bottle opener for her out of hard-light, and Pharah kissed her on the temple in a thank you as she opened her own bottle.
Hanzo sipped at his own beer. He could enjoy beer, but tended to prefer sake. With sake there was a sense of ritual to it, with beer, there was a sort of implicit feeling of having to be social, as well as some stinging nostalgia over his great uncle Hideyoshi.
“Heh, and Satya calls me tacky,” said McCree as he and Hanzo watched Pharah help Satya adjust her golf stance, practically hugging her from behind.
Hanzo forced a chuckling “hm,” before sipping his own beer. This isn’t Genji pushing the Watchpoint to put up with you, he thought, This is just Jesse wanting to have fun. You can have fun. You can… deal with people.
“Hanzo?” said Satya, “Your turn.”
“Oh— you can…Fareeha can go next.”
Satya just shrugged and rearranged the order of their names on the grid, putting him below Pharah as Pharah putted next. Despite helping Satya with her own stance, it actually took Pharah several tries to get the ball close to the hole, and by the time she had the ball a few inches from the hole, McCree blurted out “GOOD LUCK!” and Pharah ended up hitting the ball too hard and they all watched as it bounced over the hole and hit the blue bricks of the retaining wall.
“Ass,” said Pharah, finally putting the ball into the hole and McCree just shrugged, grinning.
“All you,” said McCree, putting a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder.
“You—you should go,” said Hanzo.
“‘Kay then,” said McCree. It turned out he was almost as bad as Pharah, and it didn’t help that Pharah made a point of getting him back throwing her off of her own putt by going “Hey Jesse!” every time his putter made contact with the ball. He managed to sink the ball with only two more strokes than Pharah.
All the while Hanzo studied their stances, how they gripped the putters, how hard they tapped the ball, and managed to sink his own ball in only two strokes.
“…damn,” said McCree, “Thought you said you weren’t big on golf?”
“Well it’s… fairly intuitive,” said Hanzo.
The pyramids were next. “Awww… you made little me’s!” said Pharah, bending over the hard-light structures of the statues around the pyramids.
“I simply modeled them on the statues at the temple of Anubis,” said Satya.
“Oh,” said Pharah.
“That was a joke, they are you,” said Satya.
“Awww!” said Pharah again.  
The Windmilll proved to be the bane of McCree’s existence. Satya and Hanzo watched as he muttered to himself, making stroke after stroke only to have the windmill’s arms knock them away while Pharah heckled him.
“I’m not cheating, if you’re wondering,” said Satya and it caught Hanzo off-guard to realize she was talking to him, “The speed of those windmill arms is perfectly consistent.”
“I didn’t think you were cheating,” said Hanzo, “It doesn’t seem in your nature.”
“Thank you,” said Satya. A pause passed between them. “I hope this all doesn’t seem too silly to you,” she said.
“There’s a giant glowing dinosaur in a watchpoint hangar, what could be silly about that?” said Hanzo as McCree finally sank his ball.
“I… actually was looking forward to this. We haven’t spoken much yet—” said Satya.
“So people keep saying to me,” said Hanzo.
The corner of Satya’s mouth twitched and Hanzo realized he had cut her off. He opened his mouth to apologize but was cut off by McCree teasing Pharah as she putted. “I…sorry. Please continue.”
Satya’s eyes lit up. “Well, it always tended to be difficult for me to initiate things with other people,” she went on, “Fareeha said ‘Civvy night’ was her idea so that she could touch base with other teammates… but I can’t help thinking she also came up with it to help me get to know the others.”
Hanzo’s brow crinkled. “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would—” Satya started.
“Satya, your turn!” Pharah called.
“Duty calls,” said Satya as she made her own putt. It actually took her a few tries, though not as many as McCree.
Hanzo snorted a little before moving forward with his own putter. He remembered what Satya said about the arms of the windmill, studied the construct for a few seconds, furrowed his brow, and then made his stroke. Pharah and McCree were still bickering and teasing each other but both quickly fell silent as the little ball easily rolled up the slope, past the waving arms of the windmill, and planted itself neatly in the hole on the other side.
“A hole in one?!” said Pharah.
“Impressive!” said Satya.
“Holy shit, Han!” said McCree, slapping him on the back.
“Yes… well…it’s… just a matter of timing,” said Hanzo, smiling a little as they moved on to the next hole. Once again, it took a while to get through both Pharah and McCree’s rounds with all the heckling they gave each other.
“You said you were looking forward to speaking with me,” said Hanzo as they watched Pharah attempt to get the ball up the miniature mountain, “Why?”
“Well… I feel you are in a similar position as I was when I first joined,” said Satya.
“How so?” said Hanzo.
“Well… prior to my joining, the most basis anyone had for my character was Lúcio. And he was, justifiably, not fond of me,” she tucked her hair back, “And, of course, everyone on this watchpoint is eclectic enough to make their own decisions, but when the one person everyone seems to like doesn’t like you, well…” she shrugged, “Let’s just say I was eating a lot of meals alone during my first few weeks here. There was Zenyatta, of course, but arguably, Zenyatta makes a point of that sort of thing so...” she trailed off.
Hanzo wasn’t sure he liked where this conversation was going.
“And I like to think we have similar tastes,” said Satya, apparently noting his discomfort and switching gears.
“…similar tastes?” said Hanzo and Satya just motioned with her head over at Pharah with McCree’s head in a headlock, giving him noogies and going “YOU WANT A MULLIGAN? I GOT YOUR MULLIGAN RIGHT HERE!”
Hanzo snorted. “I suppose they’re making up for all the lost stupidity with all the missions they’ve had,” he said with a smirk. Satya silently and easily made her hole in a few putts as McCree and Pharah headed off to get another round of drinks for everyone.
“What did you mean earlier?” said Satya, coming back to Hanzo as he made his own putt. 
“What?” said Hanzo.
“When you said ‘that doesn’t bother you?’ Why would it bother me?”
“It’s… it’s embarrassing. It’s… pitying you,” said Hanzo.
“You think Pharah introducing me to her friends is pitying me,” Satya said flatly.
Hanzo’s stomach tied up in knots. “No–It’s–It’s different for you. Before you joined the team you built things. You created. Sure, it was for an… evil corporation, but you weren’t… we are not the same.”
“You’re moving the goal posts,” said Satya.
“What?” 
“Moving the goal posts. You relate to me when you think I’m being pitied or treated like a child by my partner, but when I’m able to rationally say, ‘No, it is not like that’ then suddenly we are not the same.” 
Hanzo blinked a few times.
“It’s not pity, Hanzo Shimada, it’s empathy,” Satya went on, “You don’t think everyone else here has been lonely? I was lonely in Vishkar. I was lonely when I first came here. Pharah was estranged from her mother for years, McCree was wandering with a bounty on his head—” Satya sighed, “It’s… it’s terrifyingly easy to convince yourself that no one needs you when you’re alone. And it takes a lot of strength to bring yourself back. To cultivate relationships so you can center yourself. And sometimes you fall back, and that’s fine. I didn’t make it to the book club this month because I didn’t want to talk about how the book made me cry. But as long as you keep putting yourself out there–”
“You’re in the book club?”
“Yes.” 
“Where the Crawdads Sing made you cry?”
“Yes.”
“…why is there a Watchpoint book club?”
“Long Orca rides.”
“…I hate how much sense that makes,” said Hanzo, “It made me cry, too.”
Satya just huffed and smiled. “Make your putt, Shimada.”
Hanzo stepped forward, placed his ball, drew in a steadying breath, and then with a single tap sent the ball rolling up through the castle, the little drawbridge closing behind it and a little fanfare playing. Both Hanzo and Satya rounded the castle and watched as the ball rolled out the other side and plopped neatly into the hole. The fanfare played again and little firework-like lights shot off from the castle’s parapets in miniature starbursts.
“…have I mentioned your work here was brilliant?” said Hanzo.
“You could stand to mention it more,” said Satya, arching an eyebrow.
“Have you been keeping score?”
“Oh honestly you won two holes ago, even if all three of us got holes in one for the rest of the course there’s no chance of beating you.”
“…Ah.”
“Shall we move on to the dinosaur?”
“It is a good dinosaur.”
“Told ya they’d hit it off,” said McCree as he and Pharah headed back from the cooler.
“You told me? I believe I invented civvy night,” said Pharah, “All you did was hook up with your probation charge.” 
“Which makes me a certified genius. You just call it civvy night because calling it a double date is cheesy,” said McCree.
“It’s called civvy night so there’s no pressure to bring a date,” Pharah frowned as her ball popped over the hole and rolled out the other side, “Still trying to get Mei to come along.”
“God, someone needs to get her away from that lab,” muttered McCree.
“Right? But then again… 9 years asleep. Makes you feel pretty far behind on work.”
“Pretty far behind on partyin’ too,” said McCree, closing the distance between himself and Hanzo, “You guys down for another round?”
Satya smirked as Pharah handed her her drink. “But of course,” she said.
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majimemegoro · 5 years
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Okay so on the amon thing. Amon essentially just shows up at the end after every substory (and sometimes some other bonus stuff) is finished up and challenges kiryu to a duel to the death because thats just what he does. Originally he was just a very flat "heres a super hard boss to test your skill since you 100% the game" kinda guy with pretty much no personality in 1, with kiwami adding a small 4th wall break of "hey this isnt the first time we actually met he he ha ha" (1/?)
after that in 2 he comes back, angry that kiryu is the first person he ever failed to kill, now bringing along his 3 brothers kazuya (dual wields axes), jiro (guns) and sango (rocket launcher. this one got a hat.) that fight kiryu before him, as of now, he's still pretty much a very flat character with no notable traits outside of being kinda salty about losing the last fight and having trained pretty heavily to beat kiryu this time, even stealing komakis ultimate technique.
In Y3 is where he actually gets a bit more screentime, he's actually the reason that one scientist with the street fighter mind machine shows up, and he was actually assumed to be behind the assassins that kiryu had to deal with in a long side quest, thought that was actually that one dude with the red suit from Y1s fault. Here he for one proves that he isn't just an incredibly skilled fighter and assassin but also incredibly smart. The training machine thing is actually his own invention that
he had the scientist create for him again just as a test. It also explains why, even beyond mine, the final boss of the virtual fights is a replica of kiryu, even thought kiryu would have no experience of fighting himself, obviously. Then when they have their showdown, he actually explains his clans philosophy and just how much it differes from kiryus philosophy. "Kiryu never killed a guy" is pretty much a meme, but for Jo Amon pretty much the exact opposite is the case and its a great contrast.
the amon clans philosophy is that killing is part of life, and is a completly fundamental part of life, because nothing can even survive without ending something elses life, like how humans cannot survive without consuming meat or plant life, so they have to kill. The reason he is so salty about losing to kiryu is the fact that a) kiryu is the first one to ever beat him, like, ever and b) the fact that he considers it incredibly disrespectful and dishonorable from kiryu to let him live, because
by refusing to kill him, kiryu is going against literally everything that jo knows and his very life philosophy, especially after beating him twice already, not just once. After beating him for a third time then, he threatens that he'll just kill people that are close to kiryu if he refuses to execute him, yet kiryu still refuses to give in, continuing to keep up his refusal to take a life, while amon is devastated that he is in fact refusing to take his life. I think Y3 is his most interesting
appearance (up until Y5, haven't finished it or 6 yet). In addition to that, earlier in Y0, he actually fights majima while his dad fights kiryu, having had a dream that kiryu would destroy his clan. In his fight with majima, we actually see a kind of dorkish side about him, because before the fight he actually tries to think of a cool line to say when facing down majima, still being in training rather than having taken over his clan. Interestingly, in 0 he also wears the hat that Sango would
wear in Y2, Y4 and Y5, so it seems that the hat goes to the Amon second in charge. The fight in and of itself in 0 is very interesting, because he perfectly copies majima and kiryus fighting style, and in addition to that, he actually fills up majimas inventory with fake healing items and Amon Pocket Tissues, making it very likely he wasn't actually taking the fight all too serious, essentially just having a warm up fight against majima while he's still training to be an assassin.
In (chronologically) later games he has a tendency to play a card carrying villain laughing at just how evil and powerful he is, which also leads to more and more ridiculous fights and attempts to take down kiryu. From a rather straight forward fight in 1, to stealing komakis techniques in 2, to using guns in 3 to just straight up buying/creating an orbital laser to just blow up kiryu from space in the middle of a fight, to whatever those roombas in 6 are, Amon gets more and more desperate to
finally win against kiryu, and it adds an honestly very amusing edge to his constant attempts and threats. In addition, he is also willing to team up with kiryu in kiwami 2 for the clan minigame thing, to ensure that no one but him actually gets to kill kiryu. Amusingly enough, with his ancestors appearance in ishin, the amon clan seems to have invented sunglasses in feudal japan, just for the sake of looking cool. I apologize for spamming your ask box with this essay on Jo and the amon clan.
What a great essay, thanks for catching me up! i hope i didn't garble the order while I was pasting the messages! fyi you forgot to put the asks on anon after the first one so I KNOW YOUR IDENTITY but I'm not going to post them in case you are embarrassed to be known as the world’s foremost scholar of the Amon Clan. So you are still the Amon Anon to the public >:)
I agree that all this is interesting and worth thinking about in more depth. It almost sounds like Amon is the perfect foil to Kiryu’s “life no matter what” philosophy, which he applies to himself as well as others (despite a strong internal instinct to self-sacrifice). I also definitely have a soft spot for characters with a strong sense of their own honour who feel fatally slighted at not being killed by a character who has bested them in combat. So you can bet that I’ll be keeping my eye out for a certain assassin as I slowly play my way through y0 and then y3-5 (I doubt I’ll ever get to fight Amon in Kiwami 2, because I think you have to get 100% on everything to unlock the fight and I can't play golf to save my life).
In the meantime, the burden of analysis falls to you. If you ever have the time or inclination, I would love to hear what the expert makes of all this, thematically speaking! :D
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keelywolfe · 5 years
Text
FIC: Internal Disputes ch.6 (baon)
Summary: Something strange is afoot. Edge isn’t sure what, but he can guess he isn’t going to like it.
Notes: Here we go, last chapter. Who's up for a little easing of that ongoing angst, yeah? Add some more comfort to that hurt. 
Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five
Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.
~~*~~
Read it on AO3
or
Read it here!
~~*~~
Stretch didn’t know when Red left them. Truth was, he didn’t even remember falling asleep; one moment he was laying in Red’s lap and the next thing he knew he was waking up to a firm knock at the front door.
Snugged up almost on top of him, Jeff stirred, blinking sleepily as he sat up and there was no telling how long they’d slept curled up together on the sofa like a coupla lonely oversized hamsters, but it must’ve been a while because the light outside was coming in through the opposite windows.
That firm knock came again on the front door, shit, and Stretch untangled himself from Jeff and started shambling over.
“Wait, let me get it!” Jeff tried to scramble past him and for a second, Stretch didn’t get it. Until he did, and he could only shake his head in weary exasperation. This was what he got for letting Jeff go work at the Embassy with Red and Edge, he should’ve gotten him a job at the Bun Bakery where superhero tendencies didn’t go much further than rescuing cinnamon bunnies.
“don’t you start with the overprotective bullshit, andy,” Stretch caught the tail of his shirt and yanked him back, ignoring his yelp. “the door has a peephole and i’ll look, but my guess is ninja assassins don’t generally knock.”
Jeff nodded sheepishly, but he still crowded in close as Stretch checked out the front porch. It was a Monster that Stretch didn’t know, the curling tentacles that made up their ‘hair’ pulled back into a neat ponytail, but they were dressed in the same generic suit that all of Asgore’s personal bodyguards wore, so it wasn’t much of Jeopardy question to guess who sent ‘em. Last Gyftmas, he’d sent them all Ray-ban sunglasses, and gotten a politely worded ‘thank you’ letter back. He still wondered sometimes if they’d gotten the joke.
It couldn’t be bad or Asgore would have come himself. Even if Stretch had been a dick to him earlier, he would have—Stretch opened the door a little, poking his skull out, “yeah?”
“Good afternoon,” they began formally, in a calm, fluting voice, “apologies for disturbing you, I’m sure you’re busy--”
“can we cut to the part of the speech where you tell me what you want?” Stretch interrupted tiredly, “because if you’re selling vacuums, i’m not interested. i’ve been having a hell of a day, and i’m not up for giving a golf clap for the effort.”
The Monster only nodded, and that bland expression shifted to faint sympathy. “Yes, of course. I came to tell you that the Ambassadors’ plane will be landing in about an hour and if you’d like to accompany me to the airport, you can meet them there.”
“seriously?” They must’ve taken off the moment he and Tori got off the phone to get back home so fast and Stretch wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Tori said they were all okay, but wouldn’t the authorities want them to hang around for a while after an incident? That was the vibe he always got about police bullshit, unless…unless they needed to get back to Ebott because this was where they kept the Monster hospital. Or maybe it wasn’t safe to stay, that could be it, right? He didn’t know, could keep guessing all day but the Monster in front of him was waiting for his answer with a bland smile that didn’t reveal shit.
Anxiety was churning inside him, not much he could do about that, but maybe it was time to channel a little Edgy-calm. He’d been living with Edge for a while, and this wasn’t exactly the way he’d imagined trying out a little roleplaying, but fuck it, worth a try.
If it was Edge here, he wouldn’t go borrowing trouble; he’d head over to the airport and wait patiently to see what the fuck was going on.
Patience might be asking a bit much of his acting skills, heading over to the airport wasn’t. He’d never been to the airport himself, there wasn’t much point. All those movies that showed happy couples meeting at the gate with flowers and kisses were a load of bullshit as far as Stretch knew. All that shit was on the other side of the security checkpoints these days and Edge always told him he preferred to come home and get his kisses there rather than down at the basement levels, surrounded by grouchy travelers in the dirty baggage claim.
He thought Edge might be proud of the way he nodded and said evenly, “yeah, i’ll come.”
The Monster nodded placidly. “I can take you now, if you like. It’s already been cleared through Security.”
Which meant Red was doing the voodoo that he do so well and thought it was safe enough. Good to know. Stretch glanced down at himself and grimaced. His clothes were made up of about 75% wrinkles and 25% moldering grape juice, not exactly the best reunion outfit.
“let me change real quick?” Stretch asked. They nodded and made no move to come in, so he closed the door. Only to nearly walk right over Jeff, who’d been practically plastered to his back the whole time.
“I’m coming with you,” Jeff said stoutly. Even with everything running down the tubes around him, Stretch couldn’t help smiling a little. Jeff wasn’t a big guy and he looked about as fierce as one of those little weenie dogs, but Stretch would bet his favorite lighter that nothing was gonna pry him away, certainly not one of Asgore’s goons. Kid was loyal and that was a fact.
“i wouldn’t even try to leave you behind, handy andy,” Stretch told him sincerely. He waited until Jeff nodded and then shortcutted upstairs directly into the closet, not even bothering to try the stairs. The sleep helped but his soul still felt raw and bruised, aching faintly in his ribcage. That meant everything else ached too, and as comforting as sleeping next to Jeff was, the sofa wasn’t really great for extended cuddling.
Eh, but he might’ve been weird about it if Stretch suggested going upstairs to the bed. Humans were awkward about that shit, and Jeff might’ve agreed just to make Stretch happy. Better to stick with what he knew wouldn’t wig out his best bud.
As he pulled on a fresh sweatshirt, he wondered glumly if he’d be taking another trip to visit Alphys’s lab for a deeper peek at his soul. That his visits to the therapist would be going back to twice a week for a while wasn’t even a question, but he didn’t much want to think about it right now. Now, all he really wanted was to see Edge. Tori’s reassurances were nice and all, but he wasn’t going to believe it until he had that asshole in his arms.
When he came downstairs, Jeff was attempting to clean up the stains the grapes left on the carpet when Stretch dropped the bowl. He wasn’t making much progress, the faded purple splotches looked like a Rorschach test. Butterfly, Stretch decided, but Edge would probably only see a dirty mess.
“I put the grapes in the fridge, they seem okay, but I don’t think this is going to come out,” Jeff said apologetically.
Edge was gonna have a fit but that’s what happened when you ditched on your anniversary and almost got blown up for fuck knows why. Only the darkest humor lurking in Stretch thought that little joke was funny, but hey, he was a tough crowd for himself today.
“don’t worry about it,” Stretch told him, helping him to his feet. “edge probably has a secret formula to shout it out.” And if thinking about Edge grumbling while he scrubbed the stain made a flare of affection rise in his soul, welp, that was probably only a sign of what an idiot in love he was.
The car was sleek and black, one of those fancy ones with a glass partition in between the back and front seats. There was a mini-fridge and lots of buttons, and normally Stretch would have made it a mission to push every single one of them because one of them had to be an eject button, had to be.
Today he buckled up and let his head drop back against the rich Corinthian leather seats. He was still tired and the only food he’d had today was less than a handful of grapes. Edge would have a fit if he knew, he would be in the kitchen in a flash to stir something up, bitching at him the whole time that it wasn’t good to go without meals and could he go for five minutes not thinking about Edge, it wasn’t fucking helping and--
“andy?” Stretch said, low.
Jeff, who’d been exploring the buttons that Stretch ignored, jerked guiltily. “Yeah?”
That anxiety was rising, clenching in his chest and making it hard to breathe, “can you talk to me?”
“Um. Sure,” he bit his lip, considering, “About what?”
“anything,” Stretch swallowed down the pleading that tried to leak out, “make my mind shut up for a little while.”
A warm human hand settled over his own, squeezing gently. “I can do that. Okay, check this out, back when I worked at Classic Books, we had this guy who would come in every once in a while. He was a little odd, but a nice guy, and he’d usually hang for a while to chat. Anyway, this time he comes in and--”
Stretch closed his sockets and listened as Jeff rambled on about the grueling adventures of retail customer service, telling him about the guy who’d dreamed about a book and thought somehow Jeff should be able to find it.
Before he could find out how the quest for ‘the blue book with gold writing about Jesus riding dinosaurs’ ended, he felt the change of speed from the car leaving the expressway. The airport was right off the ramp, but they didn’t go through the main loop where Delta and American Airlines hunkered and instead, they were directed to a hanger off to the side.
He wasn’t really surprised. Money talked, sure, that was part of it, but for reasons of sheer practicality the Ambassadors always took a private jet. Not like many of them were going to fit in coach and even first class would be asking a bit much of Papyrus and Edge’s knees, along with Toriel’s girth.
The car pulled up in front of a single building off to the side that looked brand-spanking new. When Generic Driver and Bodyguard led them to the door where two of his huge brethren stood with unsmiling solemnness, it proved to be comfortably warm inside, with furniture that included a table set up with coffee machine and a plate of sandwiches in plastic wrap. One of the squashy chairs held Asgore, who was still dressed in his weekend casual. He was holding a coffee cup that looked comically small in his large hands. Red was sprawled out on a sofa and he gave the two of them a mocking little salute as they came in.
“c’mon in, join the party. get something to eat, honey bun,” Red called, “came right from the embassy cafeteria, it’s good stuff.”
“from the embassy cafeteria?” Stretch grimaced. He’d eaten there a couple of times and if he’d been allowed to review it on his twitter, it would have gotten a 5 on the barf scale. “you sure it isn’t poisoned?”
“The food quality has greatly increased since Edge hired Hussain to take over leadership,” Asgore said quietly. He didn’t look up from his coffee cup, probably afraid Stretch was gonna spit in his face, but his anger of this morning seemed distant as a fading dream.
“hussain? from the beanery?” Stretch poked one sandwich with a long finger even as Jeff inspected the supposedly-tasty largess hungrily. “edge didn’t tell me he did that.”
He’d noticed Hussain’s absence at the Beanery, but only in the periphery, vaguely assuming it was his day off or maybe he had class. No one else mentioned it to him, either, probably thought he already knew. Why hadn’t Edge told him—
Red only snorted, interrupting his unraveling thoughts, “he prolly forgot, he don’t have time to tell you all the shit he does. quit fussing and eat a sandwich, brat.”
Not the worst advice he’d had today. He grabbed a random one and took a seat on the empty sofa. It turned out to be some kind of curried salad. Pretty good, but his magic seemed reluctant to incorporate it, letting each chewed bite sit for too long until he was close to choking. He managed to gag down about half, ignoring Red’s beady look. Next to him, Jeff scarfed down his own and when Stretch handed over his leftovers, he took it without question. At least someone should get a decent meal.
Asgore didn’t look like he was going to take on that role. He only sat with his too-small coffee cup, staring into the depths of it without taking so much as a sip.
The room was so painfully quiet, Stretch wished there was a radio or a television or a fucking mariachi band. Anything so he didn’t have to sit here in this smothering silence. A quick check of his phone showed there wasn’t a single message or missed call, definitely not his normal. He suspected that a little gremlin somewhere was holding back his messages, but all Stretch could work up about that was reluctant gratitude. Let the frantic texts and well wishes come later when he could better deal with it.
He hesitated over the twitter app and decided not to open it yet, tucking his phone back away.
No one spoke, all of them surrounded in a choking hush only broken by a sofa creaking whenever someone moved or the occasional shuffle of a shoe. Waiting was not one of Stretch’s strengths, coupled with his lack of patience and his feeble endurance and half those noises were from him squirming around.
The furniture was probably perfectly comfortable in reality, but to Stretch it was about as cozy as sitting on freshly hardened cement. He shifted, crossing and uncrossing his legs, picking at his shoelaces and wishing he’d thought to grab the pack of smokes Andy gave him earlier. Smoking was the best timewaster he’d ever had to miss, and his magic was pleading for a nicotine fix.
That Asgore was sitting right there made it impossible not to look at him, not unless Stretch wanted to close his sockets like a toddler, tempting as that was. Every involuntary glance revealed tired unhappiness tempered with worry, and it wasn’t a king
(murderer)
sitting in this little waiting room, nothing of the cheery, dignified ruler. This was someone whose ex-wife and kid were nearly killed, someone worrying about friends and family, and Stretch was unfortunately very familiar with that.
The muted, aching hurt in his own soul wanted to reach out, to offer what comfort it could, and finally, Stretch gave in and did. Because he knew would make Edge happy.
“i talked to tori,” Stretch said, slowly. He didn’t have his lighter, nothing to fidget with and instead kept his eyes on his hands, picking at his knuckles. “she said everyone is okay.”
Out of the corner of his socket, he saw Asgore nodding slowly. “I haven’t spoken to her directly, but all the information we have thus far is clear that there were some injuries, but nothing critical.”
Critical was a horrible word and as soon as he could, Stretch was starting a twitter campaign to have it ripped out of the dictionary.
“do we...i mean…” His fingertip slipped and dug in too hard against his knuckle, sending a sprinkle of dust into his lap. Next to him, Jeff made a soft, stifled sound of dismay and reached over to take his hand, stilling him. Giving in to those overprotective instincts he was starting to take on, but Stretch let him, ignoring the tiny throb in his finger. “do you know what really happened yet?”
“not yet,” Red interrupted, all laconic ease as if the coiled tension in him wasn’t practically dripping from him like a leaky faucet. “got ‘em all on radio silence until they get back. right now, looks like just your basic monster hater attack that got lucky, but it ain’t nothing that’s been even a blip on our radar. i don’t like that shit, but the useful info is low to the ground yet.”
“yeah, sure,” Stretch muttered unhappily, “i get it, i don’t have clearance.”
A sharp kick against his shin made him yelp and Stretch jerked up to stare at Red in disbelief, who only glared back. “as soon as i know what happened, you’ll know,” Red said bluntly, “you deserve that. and if my bro doesn’t tell you, i’ll do it myself.”
“i…okay,” Stretch stuttered out. Asgore made no protest of that, only took a sip from his probably ice-cold coffee.
Red relaxed back against the sofa cushions. “for right now, we’re keeping communication on the down low until i can talk to everyone face to face. they’re out of range of monster cell towers and i ain’t taking any chance of anyone listening in.”
That made sense, it did, but some part of him still didn’t believe that Red of all people didn’t have an inkling of what happened. Or maybe it was too frightening to think it, Red knew everything, he was The Spy, and he only needed an eye patch over his cracked socket to cosplay as Nick Fury. That and a hovering base of operations, maybe Sans could get on that—
The muted roar of an engine interrupted that rambling thought and as one they turned towards it.
“They’re here,” Asgore shifted his weight, starting to stand, but Stretch was already on his feet, shortcutting outside to watch the plane taxiing towards them.
It seemed to take forever and if he’d ever taken a gander at the inside of that plane, Stretch would’ve shortcutted inside, fuck security protocol. He didn’t know how Red was resisting the urge. But he stood next to Stretch, impassive as ever as they waited while a crew of Humans wheeled a ramp up to the door and it finally opened.
The first one off the plane was Blue, and Stretch’s soul skipped a beat as his brother never hesitated, running down the ramp directly towards him as he cried, “Papy!”
Catching him as he flung himself at Stretch was automatic, the same as he’d done a hundred times before in Underswap and all the wrenching emotions Stretch had been bottling up since Red showed up in his living room that morning finally slipped its cork. Drowning in a crushing wave of guilt and relief, he hugged Blue desperately tight, burying his face into his shoulder and breathing him in.
“hey, bro,” Stretch whispered hoarsely. His arms ached from the force of his grip, holding Blue as he’d never been able to after the resets, never able to show him the depths of his grief. Blue didn’t so much as squirm in protest, clinging just as tightly. His suit was rumpled, his tie missing, and he smelled like smoke mingled with the burnt sickly-sweet remnants that came from straining magic to its limits. “don’t do that to me again, okay?”
“I never meant to do it the first time,” Blue choked out. He drew back, Stretch reluctantly letting him lean away, and his smile was tremulous. There were dark shadows beneath his sockets where none had ever been, like a week’s worth of lost sleep, but not quite. Bruises, Stretch realized with shivering horror, Blue had the skeletal equivalent of two black eyes, but the soft blue-yellow lights within were shining stars, “Come on, Edge should be next. I know you want to see him.”
Heavy guilt filled him, followed by a ghostly memory of his brother weeping that he missed him, was it possible that was only a couple days ago? But Blue only squirmed down from his arms and pulled him over to the ramp, his warm smile nothing but sincere.
A back appeared first, not Edge’s but a Monster that Stretch vaguely recognized as part of the entourage. He was guiding a gurney down the ramp and Stretch could only watch mutely as it was carefully brought down from the plane. There was an IV bag hanging from a short pole, glowing softly, and the occupant became clear as the battered curve of a skull came into view.
He barely noticed Asgore and his guards skirting around them to go up the ramp into the plane. All that freed emotion from seeing his brother coagulated in his chest in a dense, frozen ball.
Distantly, Stretch could only think that Edge looked so impossibly small. Edge was only a little shorter than him, but he always seemed like this larger than life presence, one that Stretch could tuck himself into and trust to keep him safe, not only from the world but from the demons in his own mind.
To see him like this, so very still and buried in blankets with wide straps over the gurney to keep him secure. His hands were on top of the covers, bare and battered, there was even a spot that looked a bit charred, but Tori was right about one thing, there were no new cracks. Only plenty of darkly mottled bruises and scrapes surrounding his closed sockets, awful and undeniable. A wild, impossible impulse rose up in Stretch, to grab hold of Edge and shortcut off with him, to take him far away from everything, to keep him safe. Stupid, useless urge, but for one brief moment it was overwhelming.
Fuck, if that was how Edge felt all the time, no wonder he could be an overprotective prick.
Blue took his hand and Stretch startled so badly he nearly jerked away. But his brother only held on, squeezing gently. “I know, he looks a little worse for the wear, but I promise you, it’s nothing serious. The ambulance should be here soon to take you both to the hospital and--”
“hospital?” Stretch repeated thinly. “but you said…”
“Yes, hospital,” Blue said firmly. “He’ll be fine, but he was injured. I did what I could and Toriel is a skilled healer in her own right. He still needs to be checked over and they should at least keep him overnight.”
Okay. Okay, yeah, that sounded right and Stretch nodded dumbly. Maybe the change in atmosphere was registering because Edge stirred, shifting against the straps. His sockets opened, his eye lights wide and diffused, filling his sockets with swirling crimson. For a moment all Edge did was blink, looking all around him before focusing on Stretch.
Stretch smiled and managed a weak, “hey, babe.”
As he watched, that bleary confusion abruptly turned into a happily beaming smile, which only ranked at about the third most disturbing thing that had happened that day.
“Hiiiii!!” Edge exclaimed with loud glee.
Uh. Maybe Blue was wrong about how serious his injuries were.
“Ah, yes, he was hurting quite a bit and being stubborn about it,” Blue said dryly. “We may have slightly overdone the pain relief. Enjoy it while you can, I’m going to check that the ambulance is on its way.”
“wait, what??”
But Blue was already trotting off, stopping to grab Jeff who was standing awkwardly back and dragging him along, his chatter fading away.
Edge was still grinning with unsettling cheer. On his usually stern face it was like the beginnings of a nightmare and Stretch almost expected maniacal clowns to start crawling out of manholes and portacabins around them. Fuck it, that might make it less weird, at least then all this would make sense.
“I know you!” Edge went on happily, one hand reaching out towards him. Then his brow furrowed in battered confusion, his hand falling to hang limply off the gurney’s side. “Do I know you? You’re pretty.”
Smooth fucker, wasn't he. Very carefully, Stretch took his hand, gentle with those scuffed, bruised fingers. “you know me okay. i’m your husband, yeah?”
He brightened like a light bulb, practically glowing from within with soul-deep delight. A well drugged light bulb and he latched on to Stretch eagerly, his grip bordering on feverish. “My husband? That means I get to keep you!”
If anyone was stupid enough to ask, Stretch wouldn’t even be able to begin describing how he felt about everything right about now. All his emotions were in wild conflict, battering against each other for dominance. But fuck if he could hold back from that. He grinned, helplessly, rubbing his thumb over Edge’s somewhat tarnished wedding band. "sure does."
“Sans!” Edge shouted suddenly, loud enough to make Stretch wince, but when he automatically tried to take a step back, Edge’s grip held like Velcro, weirdly loose and still implacable.
Red stepped up next to the gurney, hands tucked into his pockets. “right here, bro.”
Even with being strapped down, Edge still managed to lift his head enough to look down at his brother and say gleefully, “You see my husband?”
“seen him a time or two, yeah,” Red said. For the first time that day the clouded grimness that surrounded him seemed to lift a fraction and his permanent grin widened.
“I get to keep him!”
“sure do,” Red agreed, “no catch and release on husbands.”
Edge flumped back on the gurney hard enough to make Stretch wince even as he sang out enthusiastically, “He’s reeeeeeally pretty. Isn’t he pretty?”
“uh huh, he ain’t bad.” Red gave him a leering look and Stretch felt a hot flush crawl across his cheekbones, glaring back. Not that he’d ever doubted Edge thought that, but it was always nice to hear. Kinda.
Edge scowled at Red comically, holy fuck, that much expression on Edge’s face? He was going to give himself a new crack if this kept up.
“You’re just jealous,” he grumped, holding on tight to Stretch’s hand as if he thought Red might try to scoop him up and head for the hills to start up a new horrifying chapter in the mocking fairytale that was this day.
“must be,” Red agreed, an odd note to his voice, but Edge ignored that, cheering again quickly.
“Mine!” Edge said happily and before Stretch could puzzle through any of that exchange, he was busy squawking as he was abruptly yanked onto the gurney.
“woah, hang on, handsome!” Stretch tried to squirm away, but whoever’d had the foresight to buckle Edge down should’ve included his arms in the deal. Despite the good drugs and the visible bruises, he was pretty damn strong and clinging to Stretch like living duct tape.
“Mine, mine, mine,” Edge chanted like some kind of musical, maniacal supervillain and where the fuck had everyone else gone? They didn’t need a damn parade to get an ambulance. Red was only watching with great interest, picking idly at his gold tooth.
“a little help here?” Stretch yelped as Edge started nuzzling happily at his collarbone. Okay, it was a little tempting, but for crying out loud, Frisk and Toriel could be getting off the plane anytime now and who knew what high zoom lenses were out there getting a frontpage picture for the gossip rags. No assistance was coming from the outside avenues, so Stretch went for the ‘hail, mary’ pass and tried coaxing Edge, instead, “come on, babe, you gotta let go now.”
“No!” Edge sulked, and fuck if that petulant sullenness wasn’t incredibly damn adorable coming out in his deep, raspy voice, “You said I get to keep you.”
“you do, promise, i’m all yours. but—" Just then Edge found the bottom of his sweatshirt, warm, clumsy hands suddenly petting his ribcage and Stretch’s squeal took on a panicked note. “damn it, red!”
“me? i ain’t doing nothing.” His glee nearly matched Edge’s, that asshole.
“that’s part of the problem, you shit! he’s gonna hurt himself!”
“hurt himself?” Red scoffed. “you could take off one of his arms and use it as a tennis racket and he wouldn’t notice right now.”
“that isn’t helping!”
“never said it was, honey bun.”
Most of his face was buried into Edge’s chest but the little he could see through blankets and bone made Stretch snap out in disbelief, “are you recording this??”
“fuck, yeah, i am. this shit needs to be in high definition.”
“he’ll kill you!” Stretch tried to sound threatening, but it wasn’t exactly easy with Edge’s unusually graceless but eagerly insistent fingers trailing over his hipbones. The combination was unfortunately arousing and if he popped a boner while Red was recording, someone was gonna pay. Probably him, in horrifying shame. “i’ll kill you!”
Red did not sound properly threatened, considering that he only chuckled out, “gotta get loose first.”
It turned out to be a grateful moot point. Before he could figure out how to get loose from the wild groper his husband became under the influence, those hands slowed, going lax. By the time Stretch was able wriggle free little, Edge was out like a light, already snoring faintly.
But the moment he tried to climb off the gurney, that grip tightened again and Edge mumbling out a complaining grunt. Stretch gave up and sank down, hey, a wee little base humiliation wasn’t gonna dust him. Just so long as they kept away from dying shame, he’d manage.
But he did whip around to glare at Red’s grinning face, demanding, “delete it.”
Not like his threats would penetrate Red’s elephant hide, only rolled off like so much baby oil. “nah, don’t think so, this is for my private collection.” His glee turned pensive. “you know, i don’t have much from the old days but i do have a thing or two. maybe a few old pictures and shit.” He paused, adding with a certain slyness, “might have some pics of the boss here as a baby bones hidden away someplace.”
Yeah, Stretch knew when he was beat. “i will pay any price.”
“that’s what i like to hear.”
Just then, he heard the ambulance pulling up, fuck, finally! The back doors opened and Blue climbed out, the attendants at his heels, “All right, let’s get Edge loaded--Papy!” Blue scolded, “He’s injured, you shouldn’t be letting him exert himself!”
Stretch only grinned wryly. “sorry, bro. he, uh, didn’t give me much choice.”
Blue harrumphed, but he didn’t demand that Stretch get down, which probably cost his full allotment of sympathy points. Worth it. “You two are going ahead and we’ll be behind you in the second ambulance.”
“second?” That made him sit up despite Edge’s murmured complaint, “who else was hurt?”
Blue’s smile turned fixed even as the paramedics bustled around them. “I’m not supposed to say too much, yet, but.” His voice softened, hardly above a whisper, “I don’t know how Edge knew. We were hardly off the plane and they’d sent a car to pick us up. There must have been something he saw or felt, because he turned back to us and…and then…” He swallowed hard, the luminescent shine of tears limning his sockets. “He shielded Toriel and Frisk, and Papyrus shielded me and Sans. He did the best he could, but he…Papyrus was hurt, Papy.”
“fuck,” Stretch whispered, horrified, “papyrus, is he—"
“He’s fine,” Blue said firmly. “He was resting comfortably the whole flight. Sans is with him right now and we’ll get him to the hospital, too.”
It sounded like he was hurt worse than Edge, shit, shit, “he should’ve come out first!”
“Sans told us to take Edge,” Blue followed along as the gurney started moving, the attendants pushing it along. “Papyrus is asleep and perfectly stable. He was already with his brother and Sans said you’d need to see us.”
Fuck, but he owed Sans a very big favor.
It was only as they were loaded in that Stretch realized Red was gone. He wasn’t in the front seat and didn’t climb in before the doors closed. Then there wasn’t time to worry about that as the ambulance pulled away and Stretch only settled down next to Edge, holding on with as much gentleness as he could muster.
The ambulance attendants were both Monsters and quietly competent, neither suggesting that maybe Stretch could ride along on one of the cushioned seats. Good thing, because Stretch wasn’t going anyplace without extensive use of a crowbar.
He didn’t budge until they got to the hospital and only then did he reluctantly detangle himself from Edge. The docs took some time to look Edge over, peeling back the blankets and Stretch could only wince at the sight of a neat splint on one of Edge’s leg, at bruises scattered over his battered bones. But they only confirmed what Stretch already knew. Toriel and Blue had healed Edge as much as they could, probably too much for their own good considering Blue’s bruises and exhaustion.
Rest and time was what he needed now and that didn’t need a prescription.
Edge never really woke up again, drowsily groping for Stretch whenever he roused, but for once Stretch kept back, letting the doctors do their thing. They finished quick enough, writing on their clipboards and offering reassuring smiles as they left.
Exhausted as he was, Stretch resisted the urge to crawl right back in next to Edge. He felt like a sticky, filthy mess and a quick shower sounded like a lemon slice of heaven right now. At least the room had a very nicely appointed shower, though he didn’t linger, washing up quickly and snagging a set of the hospital issue jammies from the bathroom cubby.
He kicked his clothes under the sink, those could be a problem for Tomorrow Stretch. But he only opened the door a crack before freezing as he caught sight of someone else at the bedside.
Red was standing next to his brother, watching him sleep. His back was to the bathroom door so Stretch couldn’t see face, only the weary slump of his shoulders. As he watched, Red reached over and picked up one of Edge’s hands with tenderness Stretch never suspected Red possessed, inspected his slim, scarred fingers. Likely he didn’t see them often, even Stretch didn’t and they lived together.
He wasn’t supposed to be seeing this, couldn’t look away as Red only held Edge’s limp hand in both his own, pressed a kiss against those lax fingers before setting it back down with deliberate care.
“always come back to me, kid, you hear me?” Red murmured, a low, desperate rasp, He was gone in the next moment, vanishing into an eerily silent shortcut and that was Stretch’s cue.
Edge was sound asleep and there was a large, comfy chair pulled up next to the hospital bed that Stretch promptly ignored, gingerly curling up next to him, as close as he could get without disturbing him. For the first time since Edge sat him down to tell him about this trip, his soul settled, that achy, raw feeling easing.
Exhausted as he was, Stretch only lay there, looking into that battered, beloved face, tasting the sweet salt of his own melancholy tears as he whispered a plea of his own, “don’t ever leave me. please.”
He didn’t expect Edge to stir with a sleepy sigh, his sockets opening to show a sliver of crimson as he slurred out, “Won’t, love. M’ yours.”
“mine and yours, like his and his towels,” Stretch whispered back, stifling a teary giggle and when Edge sleepily held out an arm, he took the invitation. Snuggling in with his skull resting on Edge’s ribcage, an arm strung loosely around him as Stretch listened intently to the soft, steady thrum of his husband’s soul.
-finis-
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Driving Spectacles.
3m Security Checking Out Glasses
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Content
What Creates Eye Discomfort?
Looking For A Reduced Vision Help To Fight Vision Loss? Take The Irisvision Test.
Common Eye Disorders.
What Is Glue For Glasses Frames.
Nose Pads Keep Glasses Comfortable.
Can You Place Lenses In The Frames I Purchased An Additional Shop?
What Triggers Eye Pain?
If you choose to acquire Flexon glasses, you should make sure that you are buying from a certified dealership to stay clear of fraudulence. lenses that are big as well as heavy.Most Opticians that sell Adaptable lenses lie in locations where you can conveniently discover these lenses. Sometimes, they can even help you in situating a certified supplier near your home.You can see an Opticians that selling Flexon for an examination drive, to see just how these glasses search you. It is possible that the frames you choose might be various than the ones you have seen on your good friends' faces.
After this action, they will certainly determine which sort of device will be made use of based on their searchings for as well as will certainly suggest a therapy choice. The most common options that are usually recommended consist of LASIK surgical treatment, eyeglasses as well as sunglasses. Depending upon the intensity of the client's vision troubles, several various devices might be recommended.Glasses as well as call lenses are popular items provided by lots of eye doctors. In many cases, these lenses are made from prescription-grade lenses.
All of their lenses can be quickly matched with a variety of frames and also lenses. This suggests that you can develop your own lenses to fit your particular needs.You'll additionally find that the firm uses a wide range of call lenses for different jobs. Non reusable lenses are made with special cleansing solutions and also are really easy to utilize, while bi-focal lenses are non reusable but require numerous disposable applications.
It is likewise recognized for its range of sporting activities eyewear, consisting of football glasses, hockey eyeglasses, footballs, baseball, tennis, rugby, hockey, and boxing. It additionally has been known for offering a variety of glasses for athletes like golf and also fitness, bike eyeglasses, ski glasses, sailing, cycling, water sports, and also sports.
This business supplies both prescription as well as non-prescription lenses as well as devices. Their product range includes; custom made lenses, eyeglasses, eyeglass frames, as well as more.One of the glasses items supplied by this firm are glasses for driving, consisting of driving glasses and also driving lens aylesbury. Driving glasses and driving lens aylesbury is an economical solution that can assist shield your vision.They also have various kinds of lenses. A few of the lens categories include: For people that are regularly on the go and need to alter their lenses every once in a while, new contact lenses can likewise be bought with Leading Specifications eyewear. A few of the lens categories include: Leading Specifications likewise produce as well as market flexon frames and lens aylesbury.
There are numerous internet sites that are devoted to aiding the individuals to discover a qualified optician.The eye specialists will generally consult with a patient before suggesting glasses or get in touches with to them. Vision issues like nearsightedness, hyperopia, astigmatism and presbyopia are one of the most usual ones. The trouble is that many people with vision troubles do not know they have issues. Some typical pairs that opticians advise are: Prescription Lenses or Get In Touch With lenses - For moderate to severe nearsightedness, nearsightedness, astigmatism as well as presbyopia vision problems, call lenses are normally the very best service.
Do new glasses feel weird at first?
Most people getting glasses for the first time, or who are changing prescriptions, will experience some temporary visual distortion. Until you adjust to your new glasses, you may experience some minor vision issues, but those usually go away pretty quickly.
Seeking A Low Vision Help To Eliminate Vision Loss? Take The Irisvision Trial.
With the development of the internet, you can look for an optician from your residence without leaving your chair. Right here are some guidelines to help you find the most effective possible opticians for your vision needs.The word 'optic' in the common term refers to 'vision' and also these professionals work with people's vision to improve as well as correct it. The initial thing they do is to guarantee that the patient's sight is clear before they begin their treatment.
if you intend to safeguard your eyes from microorganisms and germs.You can go to an eye examination centre face to face or so as to get an extensive examination and also analysis done. Nonetheless, it is finest that you obtain an estimate via an eye specialist.Once the results of your assessment and also analysis come out, you can pick the very best strategy of treatment for your trouble.
Common Eye Disorders.
You can buy custom-made get in touch with lenses for people with various vision issues, such as nearsightedness, farsightedness, astigmatism and also presbyopia. Personalized call lenses give convenience and defense for those with eye problems. There are special sorts of get in touches with available in order to enhance the vision of clients experiencing macular degeneration, and cataracts. For example, there are complete face call lenses, non reusable call lenses, sunglass inserts, gas absorptive lenses as well as LASIK lenses. All these contacts are created to provide improved vision to all individuals that drive or use eyeglasses.
What foods are bad for your eyesight?
The Worst Foods for Your Eye HealthCondiments, Toppings, and Dressings. The toppings that you likely store in your refrigerator door like mayonnaise, salad dressing, or jelly, are all high in fat. White or Plain Colored Foods. Think about the white foods that you eat: pasta, white bread, rice, and flour tortillas. Fatty Meats. Margarine. Saturated Fats.
Bifocal Lenses - For individuals who require reading glasses, these are the most effective option.After you have actually made your selection of get in touch with lenses, you should guarantee that you adhere to all the directions that feature them. This is done after each usage as well as assists the call lenses dry. This consists of keeping the lens away from straight sunlight.Other than these 2 actions, you should also discover exactly how to keep appropriate eye health and also adhere to the correct cleaning procedures.
This function suggests that they are simple to bend and match a cars and truck, while still supplying the stability required when driving at broadband. Flexon frames are also excellent for being used inside, given that they are really durable and also can be quickly bent to fit a person's face and neck. Although polycarbonate lenses are much more durable as well as a lot more comfy than flexon, they are not as solid as the extra expensive acrylic lenses and also don't provide the same level of comfort.
Each eye disorder is a bit different, so it is really essential to obtain an eyeglasses fitting from an optician that comprehends the trouble. It is possible to obtain some type of corrective eye surgery if your vision trouble is really poor. Nevertheless, this is usually costly as well as it might create some side effects.You can discover many affordable eyeglasses from Aylesbury opticians. They usually have an excellent choice of brand names of glasses to suit every spending plan and also can recommend you on what frames as well as lenses to obtain based upon your eye issue and also individual requirements. If you are seeking the very best possible option for your optician then right here is some details on the various sorts of opticians offered on the market today.
If the private desires to wear glasses to deal with a certain vision trouble, then she or he ought to review the opportunity of buying frames constructed from eyeglass-style lenses. Lots of optometrists can likewise make as well as make customized glasses that are customized to fit a wide variety of people' needs. If an individual experiences an eye disorder, they might recommend one of the many therapies that can be used to fix the eye problem.
Each sort of eyeglasses features its own benefits and negative aspects. Stiff lenses are utilized for fixing vision issues such as nearsightedness, farsightedness and astigmatism.
You can inquire what size as well as sort of lenses you must wear, in addition to what the very best brand names of glasses to purchase are. They will inform you how much they bill for a pair of lenses and also what discount rates you can get.You can additionally ask what discounts they offer for glasses from Flexon.
How far do you stand from eye chart?
In the United States, the standard placement of the eye chart is on a wall that's 20 feet away from your eyes.
Flexon glasses are offered in both clip and disposable lens as well.These lenses are also really durable and are readily available in many different styles as well as colors, consisting of clip in and disposable lens. If you want glasses as well as call lenses at reasonable rates, or if you need an economical, trendy eyeglasses, opticians for eyeglasses in Manchester have the items you are searching for. They have every little thing you need for risk-free as well as reputable eye treatment.
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What Is Glue For Glasses Frames.
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The lenses of lemon lenses can be constructed from natural leather, plastic, as well as soft plastic. Flexon lenses are offered in either fixed lenses or removable lenses.
Nose Pads Maintain Glasses Comfortable.
Individuals that I see fit with me clothing the means I clothe.
Speaking of Aylesbury occupational glass lens with long hair, eye doctor Eric Round, of Lewisville, Texas, sporting activities an 18-inch braid.
Surface area pain is normally triggered by irritability from an international item, infection, or trauma.
Eye pain that takes place on the surface may be a scratching, melting, or itching experience.
Commonly, this kind of eye pain is conveniently treated with eye decreases or rest.
Even to youngsters, however, the doctor needs to present a wholesome appearance, to polished footwear as well as clean fingernails, Dr. Mallinger states.
Spectacles and also Call Lenses From Aylesbury OpticiansAylesbury is an English town situated on the south coastline of South East England, near Aylesbury, Cambridgeshire. This town is a popular place for individuals to go with buying, sightseeing, showing off tasks and other home entertainment activities. Aylesbury has a variety of purchasing and also leisure destinations that make sure to be pleasurable for both locals as well as tourists.Today's globe has several kinds of eyeglasses. A few of the most usual are call lenses, spectacles, driving glasses, call lenses as well as non reusable ones.
Once you have taken all the necessary measures to enhance your eye health and wellness, you can likewise anticipate a lengthy and also healthy and balanced life. Eyewear Shop - Brian Flexon OpticiansThe opticians in Aylesbury are recognized for their top quality, service and affordable rates. This eyewear store in Aylesbury has actually been offering its customers with top quality eyeglasses and lenses for years. " Leading Specs" is a regional family-owned, family-operated, privately owned offering eyeglasses shop based in Aylesbury, offering the majorities of Buckinghamshire and London.
Founded in 1970, it is dedicated to supplying top quality eyeglasses items at inexpensive costs, without giving up on solution or design.The Aylesbury opticians are known for their elegant frames and lenses. They are additionally known for giving the clients with top-quality frames as well as lenses for their numerous needs. It's an eyewear store that has been around for numerous decades. This glasses shop is known for its vision correction products and also is understood for its adaptable vision improvement services.
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The glasses we manufacture is created to be extremely resilient and durable. A lot of frames are manufactured to the best criteria, utilizing the finest materials to make certain that they are remarkably robust as well as long lasting.
It is also among the leading eye treatment shops in all of England. Top-Specs.co.uk has actually been offering excellent client service in the marketplace for more than 50 years now.The glasses store offers the most effective and adaptable glasses solutions available today. It likewise uses terrific discount rates and benefits for its customers. It has actually been recognized for providing a variety of eyeglasses products for all kinds of individuals. It additionally provides premium quality glasses products like call lenses, glasses, goggles, sunglasses, field glasses, goggles, and electronic video cameras.
Many people do not realize that a lot of high quality glasses are made at one of the leading eyeglasses makers in the country - Vision Concepts. As a matter of fact, Vision Concepts is located in Aylesbury, simply southern of London. They produce a wide variety of premier contact lenses and also glasses for people with vision impairments. Vision Concepts began as a single glasses store in 1883 and became a comprehensive as well as widely known company in the last century and also a fifty percent.
Optometrists establish the requirements for various sensory gadgets that will certainly supply the required improvement to an individual's eyesight naturally. Eye doctors can also recommend lenses that are especially developed to remedy certain sorts of eye troubles such as astigmatism, farsightedness and nearsightedness. The key function of optometrists is to examine the eyes and also recommend corrective lenses when needed.There are different ophthalmic tools that are offered by many eye doctors. Vision testing and a detailed exam of a person's eyes are one of the most important steps involved in their proper choice.
It is constantly advised to obtain a pair of great spectacles to ensure your safety as well as convenience while driving. In Aylesbury, you can get occupational driving lenses as well as eyeglasses from Eyestrain eyegrivers.Flexon frames and lens: Eyestrain eyegrivers supply a variety of adaptable eyewear and also frames for both men and women.
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Nevertheless, if you are looking for driving lenses and also other eyewear items that can offer you with the security you require, driving glasses can be purchased from Eyestrain. You might pick between standard glasses or adaptable frames from Eyestrain.Flexon: Flexon is among one of the most popular type of glasses available on the marketplace today. It is similar to jigsaw challenges, where you assemble the pieces to make up a puzzle. Flexon frames are typically constructed of plastic or steel and are readily available in different colours and also styles.Eye exams: Eye exams are essential when you obtain your very first collection of prescription glasses. They might likewise be needed at the start of institution as your eyes as well as vision problem needs to be assessed by an optician.
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Visual Acuity Examination.
In many cases, they might prescribe lenses for the problem. Top-Specs of these conditions may call for surgery, although some optometrists might recommend putting on sunglasses to help shut out hazardous ultraviolet (UV) light from the sunlight. Selecting an Opticians For Your Vision Modification Requirements" Top Specs" is a privately possessed, family-run company based in Aylesbury, and serving the whole areas of Buckinghamshire, Oxfordshire as well as West Midlands in the UK.
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Can You Place Lenses In The Frames I Purchased Another Store?
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j--meat-hook--j · 4 years
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UA Adventures: Taiyuu Bonus Round
The fight with Mya was about 2 days ago, for better or worse. After being introduced to some people from UA, Zeke couldn’t remember their names, Zeke went for a walk around the UA campus. A brown-haired student appeared next to him, a patch of grass disappearing under this new student. 
“So you’re one of the Taiyuu students right? I’m Hitomi Ba, what’s your name?” This new student was unusually chipper. 
“Zeke Funkee, nice to meet-.”
“Woaaah, you’ve got a weird accent. My Quirk’s Swap. I can swap positions with anything I can see, like I did with that grass there.” 
And very energetic.
“What’s your Quirk Zeke?”
“Umm, Electrokinesis. I can control electrci-” “Wooooaaaah, you can control electricity? You gotta show me. Here.”
Hitomi grabbed Zeke’s hand and ---Lurch---
The outside field was replaced with the inside dorms. And then across from the dorms, and then outside the gymnasium, and then inside the gymnasium. 
“Please stop, I think I’m gonna be -” Zeke said, doubling over.
“Sick? Yeah, Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Happens to everyone on the first time. Whaddya waiting for go! Do it, do the thing, the thing you do, the electric thing you do. Go! 3,2,1! Go!” Hitomi ignored Zeke’s queasiness. 
“Bleuurh, huuuergh, beeeuuuuurhh.” Zeke dry heaved.
“Ah cmon, we don’t have all day, I’ve got places to be, things to do, people to see.”
‘Was this person always this intense?’
“Just give me a minute to recov-” Zeke started.
“Uuggghh, a whole minute? Hold on I’ll be right back.” Hitomi interrupted. Hitomi disappeared and a Witches Hat Cone appeared in his place. Zeke waited for nausea to pass hunched over with his hands on his knees. Taking a deep breath, Zeke stood up straight.
The Witches Hat Cone was replaced by Hitomi holding a bag of popcorn. 
“Well, you ready?” Hitomi asked excitedly.
“Ready for what?” Zeke was confused on why Hitomi was so interested.
“I dunno, do something flashy. Shoot some lightning!”
“I can’t produce or absorb electricity, I gotta have it with-.” 
“What’s your hero costume like? Has it got electricity in it? We’ll use that.”
‘We?’ 
“It’s the one with the car battery attached to it.”
“Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt, no doubt, no doubt.”
Poof. A gym mat appeared where Hitomi was. Poof. Hitomi was holding “The Car Battery”.
“This the one?” Hitomi asked.
“Uh Yeah, now I just need something to shoot it at. I don’t wanna break anything-” 
“I know just the person!” Hitomi grabbed Zeke’s hand.
“Wait!”
Zeke’s world warped from inside the gym to outside the gym, onto an open field, into a building, into another building. 
The room was scattered about with different half made inventions, the buzzes of electricity were everywhere. It was almost overwhelming but Zeke didn’t tune a single one out. Not again. 
“We’re here!” Hitomi was very excited.
“Heurrgh, bleeuuuurghh, hnnnnghhh.” Zeke didn’t find it any easier the second time around.
“Hey Hatsune-sensei! Can we get Zeke here something to shoot at?”
“Aaaaahhh! One of the Taiyuu students! You just have to try one of my babies!” A very, very enthusiastic voice called out. 
‘Her what?’
A pink-haired woman seemed to jump out of the back room. Goggles covering her eyes. 
“I’ve got just the one that needs testing!” 
‘What?‘
Hatsune-sensei went digging around a pile of machines, pistons, lasers, screens, sprays, lose bolts and spare parts. 
“This one!” Hatsune-sensei exclaimed and pulled out… a Glove? The glove had a very dense buzz to it. Zeke, Hatsune and Hitomi had a very long conversation about the glove, the helmet Hitomi’s getting and how everything worked. 
Everything. It took 2 hours before either of them could get a word in. Even Hitomi was losing his enthusiasm. 
“We’ll just take this screw and be on our way!” Hitomi managed to find a screw in all this mess. 
“No I need that for a-” Hatsume-sensei called out.
Hitomi grabbed Zeke’s wrist and the surroundings changed from inside the support building to outside the support building to a grassy field, there was a lot of patches missing, to inside the gymnasium. 
“Huurrgh, bleuurgh.” Zeke doubled over clutching his stomach. 
“Feowf, I thought we’d never get away from her. Are you ready to do it now? Do you think you have it in you? Are you up for it? Do you have the guts?” Hitomi started to get his enthusiasm back.
“Are you challenging me?” Zeke asked, still holding his stomach.
“Yep!” 
“Place it down at the end of the gym.” Zeke said as he started to do some stretches. 
“Ohhhh yess!” With nothing to teleport to Hitomi ran to the end of the gym. 
“Do it, do it, do it, do it!” Hitomi was very hyped.
After the two fights from earlier this week, Zeke was feeling drained. The Car Battery wasn’t doing much better. 
“You ready for this?” Zeke was about to put on a show. He placed the battery on the floor and held the two cables by the handles. 
“Ohhhh yesss, lets goooo.” Hitomi said, taking cover behind Zeke.
A stream of lightning surged out of the two jumper cables. It was bright, it was loud. And It. Was. AWESOME. 
The screw was nothing but melted slag after a full two seconds of lightning was thrown at it. 
“YOOOOOOOO!!! That was so cool!” Hitomi said, doing a little jump in the air. 
“You should see the storm duo. They actually make lightning.” Zeke said stifling a yawn.
“I’m hungry, are you hungry, let's go eat. That talk with Hatsume got me peckish.” 
“Uhhh, do you have anywh-”
“I know the perfect spot.” Hitomi interrupted, grabbing Zeke’s wrist. 
“Wait!” Zeke interjected.
The world lurched to outside the gym, onto the grassy field, further into the grassy field, closer to the wall. 
“Blerruuughhh, heuuurrgghhh” Zeke wretched. Teleporting in such quick succession felt terrible.
The two were now face-to-face-to-face with the big wall with no way over.
“How’re weeuuuurggh, How’re we geuuuuuurugh, How’re we gonna get over the wall?” Zeke inquired, still woozy from the teleporting. 
“Well, it’s Quirk proof, completely flat, unclimbable and indestructible. But I’ve got a way around that.” Hitomi shot Zeke a smile and pulled out three golf balls from his pocket. Still holding Zeke’s wrist. 
“I hope you’re ready,” Hitomi said to Zeke before throwing a golf ball straight over the wall. He then threw up another, it reached just over the wall when.
LURCH
LURCH
Zeke and Hitomi were on the ground on the other side of the UA wall. 
“HNnnnnnnngghh” Pulling away from Hitomi, Zeke still felt a little queasy but it could be worse.
“Alright, let’s keep going.” Hitomi reached for Zeke's wrist.
“No! No more!  We’ll be doing this my way! The Leg Using Way!” Zeke said, pulling away. 
“Ok damn, it shouldn't be too far even on foot,” Hitomi said, backing off slightly. 
“What are we getting and which way is it?”
“We’re getting Takoyaki and its that-a-way,” Hitomi said, pointing. 
“Alrighty then, onwards!”
The two started their walk despite an awkward silence. They ended up talking about Heroes, Taiyuu and UA. UA had some more written exams than Taiyuu. How UA had more professional sponsors over Taiyuu and how UA students were expected to become very successful heroes. They were about halfway there when Hitomi’s phone went off. 
“That’s one of my friends, she wants to hang out. You good with that? she doesn’t go to UA.” Hitomi asked. 
“Uh, yeah, s-”
“Cool, I’ll just go pick her up. Meet you at the stall.” Hitomi interrupted.
“Sure, see y-” And Hitomi ported away, leaving a potted plant where he was. 
Continuing to follow the directions Hitomi gave him Zeke passed building after building. Zeke was starting to get near the shopping centre heard some clapping come from a sidestreet. 
“Hello, Zeke, nice to finally see you again.” A strangely familiar voice stated. Zeke followed the sound and saw that the stranger was deep into the sidestreet. Walking closer Zeke responded with a dejected,
“Hello?” Getting closer Zeke saw that the stranger was a man in a full suit with some sort of crown mask. A scared-looking girl around Zeke’s age was standing behind him standing perfectly still.
Adjusting his sunglasses Zeke walked closer towards the masked stranger. Zeke still couldn’t quite pinpoint why he seemed so familiar. 
“What are you doing with her?” Zeke pointed to the girl.
“This child is assisting me, I’m not so familiar around this area.” The stranger said, attempting to wave away any concerns. 
“Where are you headed? I can take you there.” Zeke said in an attempt to get the girl out of harm's way. 
“My destination has come to me, Kleiner Blitz.” The stranger said in an almost pitying tone. 
At the mention of his old nickname, Zeke stepped back in shock. Zeke finally knew where he recognised this person from.
“Schlaut, is that you?” His older brother smiled at the name. When did his smile get so creepy.
“When I’m wearing this mask you can call me The King.” Schalut said. Zeke thought The King was a  ridiculous name. 
“Please, let me go.” The girl said, she started crying. 
“Of course child, your volunteer work has come to an end.” With a wave of Schlaut’s hand, the girl collapsed. 
“Wha-” Zeke took a step forward. Schalit raised a hand to silence Zeke. 
“Photonic, return this child and bring Mephistopheles,” Schlaut said to no one in particular. A sphere of energy formed around Schlaut and the girl. After the energy disappeared someone new was standing in between Schlaut and the girl. This new woman, Photonic, gave a mock salute.
“Righty-o boss.” Photonic said, giving a small wave to Zeke when she was surrounded by the same ball of energy. The energy faded and Photonic and the girl disappeared.
“Well done Zeke, you’ve really made quite the impact on Taiyuu, showing up late and securing victory against that green child, I’m almost impressed. Although I am certainly surprised you didn’t enrol in UA, not that it matters now.” Zeke was confused about how Schlaut knew this. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly two years. Zeke didn’t even know if Schlaut was alive. 
“You’ve really grown, Kleiner Blitz, but I want to observe the peaks of your growth,” Schalut said, another ball of energy appeared with Photonic and a small skinny looking man. 
“Mephistopheles, get ready to test that young man and refrain from killing him,” Schlaut ordered the newcomer. The new man, Mephistopheles, seemed to hype himself up. He was bouncing on his toes and started slapping his face. 
Zeke reached into his pocket and pulled out 2 AA batteries. He formed a fist and held the batteries between his knuckles, creating a makeshift taser. Copying what he saw Senshi do, he readied himself into a flimsy battle stance. Zeke wasn’t used to being caught off guard and attacked in the streets. 
An animalistic scream of rage and the skinny man produced wings made of red energy and launched himself at Zeke. The blade dug into Zeke’s left shoulder and coming out the other side. A flash of blinding pain and a warm feeling encased his arm. Zeke shoved the two batteries against Mephistopheles’ face and forced some electricity out.
Mephistopheles’ face contorted in pain and the energy blade disappeared. Zeke avoided looking at his arm, the free-flowing warmth told him everything.  Another scream of rage and an energy club formed around Mephistopheles other hand, hitting Zeke in the ribs. 
Zeke was heavily winded after that hit. Moving back to put some distance between himself and Mephistopheles Zeke tried a last-ditch attack. He threw the AA batteries at Mephistopheles, grabbed a hold of the buzzes with is Quirk and…
Super Move: Battery Bomb!
He forced all the electricity inside the batteries, outside the batteries all at once, creating 2 small explosions in Mephistopheles’ face. 
‘Surely that must have got him.’ When the dust cleared Zeke saw that his bombs did, absolutely nothing. Mephistopheles had created a helmet made of that red energy, protecting himself from the explosions. 
With a roar, Mephistopheles crash tackled Zeke to the ground. Spinning him around so that Zeke was face down on the ground. The impact made Zeke cough up some blood. 
Mephistopheles formed another energy blade around his hand, pointed it at Zekes back and went to thrust.
“Enough!” Schalut commanded. Mephistopheles froze at the order. The energy blade and wings disappearing. Zeke felt his wounds closing, healing. 
“You’re lucky I can heal him Mephistopheles or I would have you hung.” Schlaut said, almost too calmly.
 ‘He never said anything like that back home, what happened to him?’ Zeke thought.
“What are you doing Schlaut?” Zeke asked in a panic. His brother never would have done anything like this.
“I’m exciting your cells to heal you, similar to what that green child does. You may have a small scar, however.“ 
“How do you know about any of this? We haven’t seen each other in years.”
“I understand that you’re confused about how I have acquired the knowledge of your recent life. Did you really believe I’d leave you alone and unprotected Zeke?  Allow me to introduce to you The Fool, although, it’s already well aware of you. I’m disappointed you didn’t notice it after all this time but I can’t say I’m surprised.” 
Out of the corner of Zeke’s eye, he finally spotted something, spotted IT. The thing in the corner of his eye, the breath on the back of his neck, the feeling of being watched.
The Fool. 
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“The Fool’s Quirk is ‘Unnoticeable’. As long as it's active none of your five senses can even acknowledge its there. One could spend their entire life watched without an inkling of knowledge of its existence“ Schlaut explained. 
Schlaut walked over to his restrained brother. His creepy smile only getting larger. Squatting down to get closer to eye level Schlaut’s face dropped. 
“You really can hold your own in a one-on-one. But this is the real world. You’re weak Zeke, you couldn’t even stop someone as low life as those two and you can’t stop Mephistopheles now. But that’s okay, I’ll give you that strength.” Schlaut offered. 
With a slight pause, Schalut placed his hand on top of Zeke’s head, ruffling his hair. 
“Brain’s are difficult, Quirks are even more complicated. But after all this time I know your Neuromap like the back of my hand. I picked up all of my techniques from you as shameful as that is. Shutting down, redirecting, slowing down, creating, and of course, Overcharging.” Schlaut continued. 
Zeke watched his brothers’ eyes glow a deep red as Zeke felt his own eyes glow a rich blue. His electro-sense was being not only activated but pushed, pushed further than ever before. He was starting to sense electrical signals from even further away.
Zeke’s senses were being pushed to the limit, he had no choice but to look deep, deeper than he ever thought possible. Zeke felt it all. He felt the buzzes in Schlauts mask, the felt the very pixels in the TV 40 metres away, he felt the buzzes in the power socket, he felt the buzzes in the wires. He felt the buzzes in himself, he felt the buzzes in Schlaut. 
Zeke was starting to lose feeling in his feet.
“No Being is immune to the peaks and valleys of life as the strong struggle to survive. One succeeds while the other fails, but with my power, one can gaze upon life's pitfalls in all their glory. Sidestepping them becomes but a chore and life becomes a succession of triumphs. A state of personal perfection, and truly how could it not?” Schlaut, no, The King declared. 
Even then the buzzes wouldn’t stop, they only got clearer and clearer, more distinct and harder to ignore. 
Zeke realised, these buzzes, weren’t buzzes but out of focus circles and squares. Circles and Squares Zeke could now see, now understand. Nothing would ever be the same!
He didn’t even realise when the glow of his eyes started to blind him. 
In old books of cosmic horror, the author describes the monster as unknowable, something the human mind cannot comprehend. Zeke felt things the human mind should not understand. Zeke felt it all, the tiniest of circles, every Nucleus, every Proton, every Electron, every Photon. 
He could sense squares, squares so large they dwarfed the tiny circles, they even dwarfed the buzzes. He felt it all, every radio wave, every wave of UV radiation, he could sense the pull of earth's very magnetism. 
It would be bearable if everything wasn’t in such horrific clarity. 
Zeke was unsure when he lost consciousness. 
When Zeke woke up he was lying in a bed with a tube down his throat, alone. Panicking he struggled to pull it out, the tube seemingly went on forever. Coughing, Zeke heard a rhythmic beeping again, seemingly in time with his heartbeat. Cracking open his eyes for the first time in what felt like forever, Zeke couldn’t focus on anything in particular. 
Where am I?
Why am I here? What time is it?
Where is everyone?
‘Why is everything so blurry?’ 
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awholelotofladybug · 5 years
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Happy Make-Up Birthday: A Stammering Adrien AU
Based on this AU
Audrey feels positively terrible for missing her daughter’s birthday this year. Seeking solace, she turns to her new friend, Caline Bustier.
Audrey: *lying on a fainting couch, being a drama queen* It’s simply terrible, Caline! All these years, neglecting my baby girl on her special day. How can I possibly make it up to her?
Caline: Audrey, don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic? I’m sure there’s a solution. I mean, even schools have make-up tests. Perhaps...
Audrey: *Audible gasp* That’s it, Caline! A Make-up Birthday! I’ll get started right away! Caline, you’re a genius! *kisses her on both cheeks* Well, I have a party to plan and guests to invite. The party is at 13pm. Ciao! *leaves*
Caline: Uh....Okay?
Later
Chloé: Jean, it’s not that I didn’t love going out for gelato, bowling, and mini-golf with you, but it’s been three hours and I have homework. What is going on here?
Jean: Well, Mademoiselle...*opens the front door*
*All of Ms. Bustier’s class is there, as well as a few other students*
All: Surprise!
Chloé: Huh?! What the? Balloons? Cake? Presents? WHAT?!
Audrey: *wearing sunglasses, a formal black jumpsuit with gold buttons, a short-sleeve fur short jacket, a black sun hat with a yellow rose, long black gloves, and golden shoes* Happy Make-up Birthday, Honey Bee!
Chloé: Mama? Your special occasion outfit? What’s going on here?
Audrey: What’s more special than celebrating my pride and joy? *hugs her daughter* Oh Chloé. I feel absolutely wretched for missing so many birthdays. This party is my promise. I’ll never miss another.
Chloé: *gets misty-eyed* Oh, mummy-kins! *hugs her back* 
Audrey: * breaks the hug* Come along, everyone! Time for cake and presents!
Emilie: Wonderful party, Audrey. But don’t you think you’re spoiling her a bit more than usual?
Audrey: We’ll tone things down eventually. But today, my Honey Bee gets the royal treatment.
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lazymysteries-blog · 5 years
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The Laci Peterson Case: Did Her Husband Really Do It?
Laci Peterson
Laci Denise Peterson was born on May 4, 1975, in Modesto, California to parents, Sharon and Dennis Robert Rocha. She had an older brother named, Brent Rocha and a half-sister named, Amy Woodward. Laci’s parents divorced when she was very young and both parents eventually got remarried. As a child, Laci loved working on the dairy farm that her family owned and gardening with her mother. That love for the outdoors and plants would influence her later in life.
Laci graduated from Thomas Downey High school where she was a cheerleader before attending California Polytechnic State University where she majored in Ornamental Horticulture. It was during her college years in 1994 that Laci would meet her future husband, Scott Peterson. They met at a cafe her friend worked at and they immediately hit it off. In 1997 they got married and three years later in October 2000, they purchased a house in Laci’s home town Modesto, California. During this time Scott was working at a European fertilizer company and Laci was working part-time as a substitute teacher while dedicating the rest of her time to being a “perfect” housewife according to her mother and half-sister. In 2002 Laci became pregnant with their first child. They were expecting a baby boy on February 16, 2003, who they planned to name Conner. 
The Disappearance of Laci Peterson
December 24, 2002, started as a normal day for the Petersons. Laci was watching cooking shows, preparing to mop the floor, and getting her home ready for Christmas the next day. At 9:30 am Scott left his home to go fishing at the Berkeley Marina. Laci Peterson was never seen alive again. At least that’s what Scott Peterson claims. Can we really trust him though? Well, let’s see… Other than Scott the last two people who had spoken to Laci were her mother, Sharon and her half-sister, Amy. On December 23 both Laci and Scott went to a hair salon that Amy worked at to get Scott’s monthly hair cut and that night around 8:30 pm Laci spoke on the phone with her mother. They had no idea that that would be the last time they would speak to Laci again. 
At 2:15 pm on the 24th Scott sent a message to his wife saying, “Hey, beautiful. It’s 2:15. I’m leaving Berkely.” When Scott returned home he saw that his wife’s 1996 Land Rover was parked in the driveway and he made his way into their home. Upon entering the house he noticed that his wife was not home but it didn’t worry him too much, he assumed that she was with her mother. Scott told the police that once he got home he took a shower and washed his clothes because they were wet from fishing. Multiple news outlets including the New York Post and The Modesto Bee report that Ron Grantski, Laci’s stepfather, reported her missing after Scott had called Laci’s mother at 5:15 pm when Laci still had not returned home. However, ABC News reports that Scott was the first person to report Laci as a missing person from their Modesto home. 
When police arrived at the scene and began searching the home they found Laci’s sunglasses, keys, and wallet in her purse in a closet. The dinner table was set for the following night and one of the detectives on the case found a phone book opened to a defense lawyer. During the search, police noticed Scott’s extremely calm demeanor. That night the two lead detectives questioned Scott. Originally Scott said that he had gone golfing that day but then later backtracked and stated that he had gone to the Berkely Marina. The police force immediately launched a search for Laci Peterson. Within the first two days of Laci’s disappearance, before any huge media coverage, there had already been 900 people involved in the search for her. After nationwide coverage of the case, that number almost doubled in size to over 1,500 people searching for Laci. A reward of $25,000 was offered to anyone with info on Laci’s disappearance but that price would end up gradually increasing to $500,000.
The Murder of Laci Peterson
On April 13, 2003, a couple who were out walking their dog found the body of a late-term fetus at the San Fransisco Bay shore in Richmond’s Point Isabel Regional Shoreline Park. The umbilical cord of the corpse was still attached to its body and it had been torn instead of cut or clamped. Nylon tape was around the neck of the fetus and there was a large cut on the fetus’ body. Just one day later the body of a previously pregnant woman was found washed up on the eastern rocky shoreline one mile away from where the fetus was found by someone passing by. The body was so decomposed that it was unrecognizable. She was decapitated and her limbs were missing. The forensic pathologist determined through DNA testing that the bodies were, in fact, Laci and Conner Peterson. The forensic pathologist claimed that he couldn’t determine how Laci or Conner died or whether or not the fetus had been born alive or dead but then went on to contradict himself in court when he said, “It was her death that caused Conners while he was in the uterus.”
The conviction of Scott Peterson in the murder of Laci and Conner Peterson
On January 17, 2003, it was publicized that Scott had been having an extramarital affair with a massage therapist named, Amber Frey. The affair had begun about mid-November and allegedly Scott had told Frey that he was a widower about two weeks before the disappearance of his wife. Shortly after Frey found out about Scott’s involvement in the disappearance of Laci Peterson she contacted the police and agreed to assist the police by secretly recording their phone conversations. According to Frey Scott had told her that he was celebrating the New Years’ Eve in Paris but later admitted that he had been in Modesto searching for his missing wife. At this point, the public, Laci’s family, and the police force were extremely suspicious of Scott Peterson. 
On April 18, 2003, Scott was arrested near La Jolla golf course. He claimed to be meeting his brother and father for a game of golf. However, his car was filled with random things including $15,000 in cash, 12 viagra pills, survival gear, camping equipment, several changes of clothes, four cellphones, and two driver licenses. One was his and the other was his brothers. In addition to all of that his naturally brown hair was dyed blond. Scott and his family insisted that his car was in the condition that it was in because he had been living out of it in an attempt to avoid the press and his hair was dyed blond for the same reasons. According to Scott and his family, the police failed to mention that Scott had actually spoken to the police while his hair was dyed blonde.
On April 21, 2003, Scott was charged and pled not guilty to, two felony counts of murder with premeditation and special circumstances. Judge Al Girolami of Stanislaus County Superior Court moved his trial to San Mateo County because of the Bias of the people against Scott Peterson in Stanislaus County. Scott’s trial began on June 1, 2004, and on November 12, 2004, he was convicted of first-degree murder in the death of Laci Peterson and second-degree murder in the death of his unborn son Conner. He was sentenced to death but his order is postponed along with 737 death row prisoners in California for the duration of Gov. Gavin Newson’s tenure.
My Thoughts
Before I started doing my own research on this case I felt that there was a huge possibility that Scott was innocent, however, as I continued my search for answers I realized that the chances of him being innocent were a lot slimmer than I had originally thought. At this point, I can genuinely say that I have no idea whether or not he committed this crime but I do know one thing. If he isn’t guilty he is most definitely the world’s unluckiest man. Either that or karma really had a chip on its shoulder for Scott Peterson. 
On one hand, I can’t help but notice that it seemed like from the start that the entire world hated him. Unfortunately, that hatred, no doubt, influenced Scott’s conviction. The fact of the matter is there is little to no physical evidence against Scott Peterson. The only physical evidence there was, in this case, was a single strand of Laci Peterson’s hair found in a pair of pliers in Scott’s boat. The rest of the “evidence” against Scott was purely demeanor driven. Which under normal circumstances just wouldn’t have been enough for someone to be convicted of a crime of this caliber. In addition to all of that, the way the investigation was conducted was so shady to me. The defense team performed a test to see if a 150-pound human can be thrown over a small boat and they determined that it could not be done. The court refused to conduct the test in trial claiming that it would be too dangerous to test which literally proves that they knew it couldn’t be done. The fact that they never even attempted to take this evidence into account just shows how unfair the trail was. In addition to that, the police failed to investigate a break-in that happened across the street from the Peterson’s house the day of Laci’s disappearance. Why not investigate something like that? Why not explore all avenues? This is not justice. This investigation was not conducted with Laci’s best interest at heart. Justice would have been investigating until the person convicted was absolutely guilty of the crime.
On the other hand, Scott’s demeanor is… to say the least creepy. On more than one occasion he has incriminated himself. Besides, the affair and the possible attempted getaway he has refused a polygraph test and acted suspiciously during interviews, most notably,  in an interview with Diane Sawyer on ABC’s Good Morning America Scott referred to his wife in the past tense before her body was found saying, “She was amazing.” These things and many others have me asking myself why an innocent man would continuously do and say things that mirror the actions of someone who is guilty. 
My final word is that I hope that Scott Peterson can have a retrial. Not for him but for Laci. I just can’t help but feel like so many questions about her murder have gone unanswered. That is just not fair to Laci or her family. What are your thoughts? Do you believe that Scott Peterson did it? Or do you think that it was someone else? Discuss your thoughts in the comment section. 
 Until next time, bye.
SOURCES
https://time.com/3461244/gone-girl-scott-peterson/
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/blind-injustice/201801/is-scott-peterson-innocent-part-one
https://www.reddit.com/r/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/70rkn6/could_scott_peterson_be_innocent/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_Laci_Peterson
https://www.eonline.com/uk/news/901220/secrets-lies-sadness-laci-peterson-s-murder-is-long-solved-but-here-s-why-the-case-won-t-rest
https://members.huntakiller.com/blog-articles/2017/8/16/new-docuseries-questions-scott-petersons-guilt
http://www.statementanalysis.com/scott-peterson/
https://www.bustle.com/articles/160363-what-happened-to-amber-frey-scott-petersons-girlfriend-shes-trying-to-put-the-case-behind-her
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nomadmilk · 5 years
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Big Break (Peter Parker x F!Reader) - PART 3
Summary: It’s difficult working as CEO of Stark Industries, even if it was temporary. Stress has gotten the better of you, and so has Parker’s. Together, somehow, you guys find a way to escape your busy work lives.
Total Word Count: 10838 (Split into parts).
RATING: T+
Warnings: Erm... Tad bit of SpiderSon and IronDad in this one. Fluffy, awkward, Parker 😁
Author’s Note: Had fun writing this one 😁 I love Tony and Peter’s dynamic. Hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading!!
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The next day at work really made you conscious about how close you and Peter physically were. Schedules proceeded as soon as the sun arose. Peter had slept in the compound again, and you had just arrived, pristine in your suit, just in time for his bed hair.
“Peter, do you want to put your shirt on?”
You thought it best to keep things calm… When was Peter Parker ripped? That should have occurred to you when he goes on missions to protect the entire population. It’s definitely reassuring.
Focus still fuzzy, Peter gave a groan, sauntering back to his bedroom. “I had a goodnight’s sleep, thanks to you.”
Even his morning voice sounded lower, and a little more scruffy.
“Are you okay, Y/N?”
“Yes.” You nod. “Your, erm, your plane to Wakanda.”
He rubs his eyes. “Right. When’s it going?”
“In two hours.”
With that, he left the room, disappearing around the corner to get ready for his day.
Peter had taken a couple of suits from his lab to take with him to Wakanda. Shuri had some daring ideas with the possibility of a malfunctioning suit, but Peter thought it best not to mention the latter to his superiors when they asked.
Whilst Peter went to do some experimental engineering, you carried on with your day. Happy had his regular appearance of the morning, and gave you the daily scope of the employees, and any happenings and updates that were new with the company. You went to a meeting scheduled after lunch, but was pushed back earlier to side with the board’s own itinerary. It left the afternoon with a little bit of space to catch up on contract reading, and filing.
In Wakanda, Peter was watching Shuri etch the design of his suit on a floating screen, idly approving her suggestions and notions.
“… I’m sure if we add the right components, it might form your own kinetic redistribution system in the suit, without having to re-name your hero alias.”
“Yeah.” Peter was looking at the ground. “Sounds great.”
Shuri swivelled in her chair to him. “Does it, really?”
“Yeah, really, sounds fun. Thanks, Shuri. Can’t wait to-“
“Okay.” She raised her hands, disassociating herself from the plans. “What’s her name?”
His voice went high-pitch. “What?”
She couldn’t help but mock him. “‘What’?”
“What ‘what’?”
“Did you guys go on a date?”
“No. We went to, uh, an arcade-“
“That’s basically a date.”
“No, she was just trying to help me relax-“
Shuri smirked. “She was helping you relax?”
“Shuri, no- I don’t-“
“M-hm. And, you haven’t thought about that ever?”
“It was just a few hours with Y/N, playing Tetris, shooting zombies-“
“Did you try to win her a claw machine stuffed toy?”
Peter frowned, and cracked internally.
It was a date. He should have tried harder for the damn frog.
Shuri’s lungs got caught in her laughter briefly. “Get out of my lab, and come back when you can actually pay attention.”
How could he be so stupid in not knowing it was a date? It’s not like he’s been on one for a while given the circumstances. On the other hand, it was your suggestion to take a break, and a break is a break, and not a date… You guys both hugged it out at the end. It was past midnight, and the owner of the diner had to kick you out. However, he did it quite politely as you were a regular, and having pancakes with Spider-Man. He hadn’t walked you home, but you reassured him that you were safe and sound when you reached your apartment.
He should have walked you back to your apartment. It would have given him more time with you, more time to talk, another opportunity to get to know each other better more than people behind desks. The first time you heard him use Spanish, was when you both met; you had bumped into a pillar hearing him read a file in the language. He knew you were more than just impressed with his linguistic skills, and it wasn’t just to throw you off, but he loved seeing your face react. Obviously, before your face hit the pillar… He realised he wanted to really know you, like what makes you smile, what makes you react in certain ways…
He didn’t know you were even the slightest bit interested about Lego, or that you had experience with Mortal Kombat and miniature golf… He was distracted, curious, and apprehensive about last night. When he thought about it, there were so many things he wanted to speak to you about.
His foot hadn’t stopped moving until the plane had landed back to the compound. He was expecting you to be the one to greet him a welcome.
“Mr Parker!” Tony called out as Peter stepped down the metal stairs. “How’s my little webslinger?”
“Hey, Mr Stark.” He greeted, passively. Frowning in confusion at the word ‘little’. “Where’s, uh, Y/N?”
Tony was taken aback. He removed his sunglasses swiftly, squinting from the glare of the sun on the runway. “Excuse me? Not seeing the appreciation here.”
Peter shook his head. “Sorry, Mr Stark. What are you doing back?”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y alerted me about one of my suits that I built for you leaving the country.”
Peter made a mental note to check a ‘Training Wheels Protocol’, or equivalent, on all the suits.
“And, she also told me that you and Y/N were out of the compound between 3:30pm, and didn’t get back until 1am.” Peter was familiar with his mentor’s tone, not liking where the conversation was going. Tony put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him out of the runway and into the Avenger’s building. “Would you mind telling me what happened?”
Tony saw Peter gulp.
“Y’know, it’s okay to give yourself a little breather sometimes.” Tony began, stepping into an elevator. “I’m glad you weren’t stuck with that soldering iron for another night.”
“Yeah.” Peter tried to avoid a second gulp. “It, uh, was really fun.”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y told me that you went to an arcade? Did you make a move?”
“What? No? Why would I-“
“You kinda’ stare at her sometimes-“
Peter scowled. “Sir-“
“You’re right, my bad. Keeping it professional.”
The elevator hummed as it ascended. In the silence, Tony pursed his lips, and kissed his teeth.
Tony felt bad. The reason he brought the kid along was cause’ of the Sokovia Accords, and the extra man power for the fight at the Berlin Airport. Peter Parker is a gifted person, and it didn’t take long for Tony to figure that out. However, through his own selfish means, he pulled him into the superhero gig, and doesn’t know how to push him out, even for a little bit.
So seeing him crush on the temporary CEO was refreshing.
The elevator announced the floor, and once again Tony’s hand was back onto the unsettled adolescent’s shoulder, stepping them out of the confined space. “I’m glad Pepper hired her. Y/N. She did you a favour. I can’t even get you to call me by my forename, and she managed to get you out of that lab of yours. Must be a special person to you.”
Tony was aware about the height growth, almost jealous by it, but throughout the years Peter’s eyes never really changed. He felt Peter’s puppy irises turn to him, and he resisted the urge to give him an innuendo quip to diminish it. Tony sighed; despite the kid being in his twenties, it didn’t look like he had the talk yet.
“Mr Stark.” Peter finally spoke. “Y/N has been Pepper’s assistant for a long while. Yeah, I like her. But I don’t wanna’, y’know, mess with that.”
“You guys got another date? How about next week?”
“Mr Stark, is this a test?”
“No!” Tony stops in front of him, his hands almost massaging his temples. “Look. I just want you to know, that dating anyone in the workplace is a dangerous idea. But this is coming from me – a guy who clearly didn’t care about that, and still doesn’t.”
Well, the man did marry a woman who used to be his assistant, and now ran his company.
Happy had been waiting on a couch, reading the newest issue of People magazine. Once Tony called out his name, he made a brisk stand and was pacing towards him, greeted him as his boss – even though he technically wasn’t at the moment – handing a recognisable toy frog, of which was tossed from Tony, to Peter’s chest.
Peter wasn’t quite sure how to feel as he felt the claw machine toy in his palms. Should he be surprised? Still unsettled? “This- How’d you-“
“I was able to get Y/N’s plan for the day, and guess what?” Tony pointed to you in Pepper’s office. “She’s available.”
Peter felt Tony’s palm on his back; more of a shove than an encouragement. “Get in there, bud. Ask her what’s she’s doing, or maybe if she likes fresh avocado… Still don’t get why you and that Ned kid laugh about that…”
Happy held the transparent door. You look up from your desk noticing Peter stumbling in, Happy saluting you, and Tony grinning ear-to-ear.
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borisvalencia99 · 2 years
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