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Aviator Sunglasses and 4 Super Benefits.....

When it comes to sunglasses, few styles are as iconic and universally recognized as aviator sunglasses. Originally designed for pilots, aviator sunglasses have stood the test of time, transcending their functional purpose to become a timeless fashion statement for both men and women. With their distinctive teardrop-shaped lenses and sleek metal frames, aviator sunglasses offer a blend of style, sophistication, and optimal eye protection.

History of Aviator Sunglasses

Aviator sunglasses first gained popularity in the 1930s and 1940s when they were introduced as protective eyewear for pilots. Designed by Bausch & Lomb, the original aviators featured large, reflective lenses that provided ample coverage and reduced glare during high-altitude flights. These sunglasses quickly caught the attention of the public, and their association with aviators and the military made them a symbol of adventure and coolness.

Timeless Style for Men

Aviator sunglasses have become synonymous with masculine style, exuding confidence and rugged appeal. The classic design, characterized by large, tinted lenses and thin metal frames, complements a variety of face shapes, making them a versatile choice for men. Whether you're aiming for a casual, laid-back look or a more polished and professional appearance, aviator sunglasses effortlessly elevate any outfit. The availability of different lens colors and frame finishes allows men to customize their look according to personal style and preferences.

A Fashion Statement for Women

While aviator sunglasses have long been associated with men, they have also become increasingly popular among women. The oversized lenses and sleek frames create a bold and fashionable statement, adding a touch of glamour to any ensemble. From Hollywood icons to fashion enthusiasts, women have embraced aviator sunglasses as a versatile accessory that complements a range of outfits, from casual jeans and t-shirts to elegant dresses. The wide variety of frame colors and lens options further enhances their appeal for women seeking a stylish and sophisticated look.

Protection against Harmful UV Rays

Beyond their aesthetic appeal, aviator sunglasses offer crucial protection against harmful ultraviolet (UV) rays emitted by the sun. Prolonged exposure to UV radiation can lead to serious eye conditions, including cataracts and macular degeneration. Aviator sunglasses with UV-protective lenses act as a shield, blocking out harmful UVA and UVB rays and reducing the risk of eye damage. It is essential to choose sunglasses that provide 100% UV protection to ensure the safety and well-being of your eyes.

Prescription Aviator Sunglasses

For individuals who require vision correction, prescription aviator sunglasses offer a practical and stylish solution. With advancements in eyewear technology, it is now possible to combine the classic aviator style with personalized prescription lenses. Whether you have nearsightedness, farsightedness, or astigmatism, you can enjoy the benefits of aviator sunglasses while ensuring optimal visual acuity. Prescription aviator sunglasses not only provide UV protection but also allow you to see clearly, making them a valuable accessory for individuals with vision needs.

Versatility for Various Outdoor Activities

Aviator sunglasses are not limited to fashion; they are also functional eyewear for outdoor activities. Whether you're engaging in sports, driving, or simply spending time outdoors, aviators offer excellent sun protection and minimize glare. Their large lenses provide enhanced coverage, reducing eye strain and fatigue. Aviator sunglasses are particularly popular among pilots, boaters, and outdoor enthusiasts due to their ability to provide clear vision in bright conditions while maintaining a stylish appearance.

Choosing the Right Aviator Sunglasses

When selecting aviator sunglasses, it is important to consider a few factors to ensure the perfect fit and functionality. Start by determining your face shape, as different styles of aviators suit various face shapes. Additionally, pay attention to the lens material, opting for high-quality materials that offer superior clarity and impact resistance. For those requiring prescription lenses, consult an eye care professional to ensure accurate vision correction and lens customization.

Aviator sunglasses have solidified their place as a timeless and iconic eyewear style for both men and women. Their combination of fashion-forward design, versatility, and UV protection make them a must-have accessory. Whether you're looking to make a fashion statement or prioritize eye safety, aviator sunglasses deliver the perfect blend of style and functionality, making them a staple for any wardrobe. So, embrace the allure of aviators and step out in style while safeguarding your eyes from the sun's harmful rays.

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Do Androids Bleed Silver? (Ch.1) -- The Cat Returns fanfic

Hey everyone, I wrote another story and this time it isn’t a one-shot but a chaptered one. Yay! This is my first time doing a sci-fi story, so if it seems a little strange or odd, I apologize but I wanted to get something out before I go on vacation. Anyway, hope you all enjoy it! Also tagging @catsafarithewriter because they have been a wonderful support and inspiration.

Ao3 story link

Summary: Cyberpunk/Android AU

=============================================

‘Next stop; Shibuya Station. I repeat, next stop Shibuya Station.’ The automated voice sounded over the train intercom, ‘please wait until the train comes to a complete stop and stand away from the opening doors before disembarking.’

Looking down at the half-crumbled note in her hand, Haru took hold of her frayed but well-loved duffle bag and stood from her seat. “I guess this is my stop,” she muttered aloud before the exiting the train and out of the station.

In the year of 2207, the use of androids and cybernetics had advance to a level where their use was a common practice and the backbone of modern society; even in her much smaller hometown. But after entering Shibuya Crossing- Haru felt her backwater home was definitely not on the same level as Tokyo. The famed metropolis was well regarded as the forefront of robotics and cybernetics throughout the entire world but the invention of CREATIONS was the achievement that truly put the city into a category all of its own. Though technically possessing a robotics classification, many who’ve had the chance to see a CREATION regarded them as so life-like, it was almost as if their creator had conjured life itself….

And it was part of the reason why Haru wanted to study robotics in Tokyo; as the only robots that her hometown possessed were generic models of the Alpha and Beta-Classes. She wanted to see the daily technological wonders always taking place in Tokyo. But in truth, the real reason Haru wanted to go was because she loved to help others and repair problems. It was why she decided to study robotics and cybernetics in the first place- with the exception of her apparent talent in the field.

At first, many had viewed the cheery but ultimately clumsy brunette to be a bit of a hazard; and it wasn’t exactly a secret to Haru herself either. She could remember constantly stumbling on her impromptu runs to high school after having slept in- or when she once tripped cleaning the trash disposal unit in the classroom and ended up spilling the contents everywhere. But the moment she sat behind the small desk in her bedroom among the clutter of spare parts and tools, her once graceless movements sharpened and Haru would smile as she’d begin to skillfully repair whatever tech the residents of her hometown brought her. So, with the encouragement of Hiromi and Tsuge, she applied for various internships everywhere in Tokyo in the attempt to join someone’s Workshop team.

And it seemed that only one person was willing to give her a chance…

Walking further into the depths of Shibuya Haru gazed in amazement at the 3D holographic displays and looming skyscrapers that was a far cry from her small hometown. The streets were littered with people possessing a variety of enhancements the young woman had only seen before in adverts that managed to be broadcasted back home. Quickly shaking off her awe and hurryingly pulling out her note of directions once more, Haru began the walk away from the train station and towering skyscrapers while weaving her way through the small alleyways, the brunette teenager came to a halt once more on a rather isolated street. Glancing down once more at the paper in her hand, Haru glanced up at the sight before her with a bit of surprise.

“This… is the Bureau?” Haru spoke, looking at the old, neon green sign that flickered slightly with a smaller neon sign saying the Workshop was open beside an open doorway that was partially blocked by a dark noren curtain. Next to what was meant to be the entryway into the shop was a pair of roll-up garage doors- one of which was already lifted up to reveal the illuminated Workshop within. Tools ranging from chisels and wrenches of all sizes to a designated soldering station, making her maple-colored eyes glow with delight.

“If you don’t have any business Chicky, keep walking. This isn’t a museum.” A gruff voice sounded, causing her to jump slightly.

Standing up from beside what, to Haru’s surprise, was an AeroCycle on a hydraulic lift was probably the largest man the young woman had ever seen. He was tall and rather stout with ivory crew-cut hair and a dark stubble about his mouth and chin while dark brown eyes gave her an unimpressed stare as he crossed his arms; with the left being a robotic prosthesis baring a shade reminiscent of a dark coffee. As the man took in her short height, petite frame, and slightly disheveled ponytail; Haru only hoped he didn’t immediately send her back home based on looks alone- after all, she knew her appearance didn’t exactly scream ‘mechanic’.

“Well? Do you have business here or not Chicky?” He asked again, a hint of impatience coloring his tone.

“Sorry sir, my name is Haru Yoshioka… I’m the intern assistant you made the offer to.”

It was here a skeptical eyebrow lifted as his hands soon went to his hips. Haru mentally scrambled for a way to defend her skills should this man end up turning her away, but he only asked one question. “Can you cook?”

“…Yes?” Haru answered, still a little confused.

“Show me; head up there and make something then bring it over. We’ll talk after.” And with that said, the man returned to his work on the AeroCycle without another word.

Haru could only stare with a slightly dumbfounded expression before letting loose a soft sigh and followed his brief and general directions. Up a set of steel stairs lay a large viewing window, which oversaw the garage, and another door that lead into the living quarters that was surprisingly clean; if a bit cluttered. To the left lay a small kitchenette while the right had a simple living room and a corridor that led further into the flat. Turning to the kitchen and figuring not to keep the man who’d likely become her boss waiting, Haru was quick to fix a lunch from a hamburger steak with a fried egg on top and rice (it was either that or one of the instant ramen containers nestled in the pantry) and returned to see the stout man now talking to a customer while gesturing to the AeroCycle. “Next time learn to drive properly bird-brain.”

“And I told you before, lard-ball, it crashed during a chase!” The customer, who was dressed in a police officers’ uniform, snapped in response all the while glaring at the mechanic.

The mechanic merely grinned savagely, as if he was used to the explosive behavior from the officer. “While you were chasing what? A nearby bird.”

“As if you’re one to talk, you over-sized marshmallow. I’m surprised you can even climb the stairs to your flat without them snapping from the strain.”

“You say that again, you big chicken!”

“Umm… excuse me,” Haru spoke up, causing both men to swerve their heads to her immediately. “Is everything alright? I’ve got the lunch ready.”

“Thanks, Chicky, I’ll just take that off your hands.” The larger of the two men spoke, retrieving the succulent smelling meal with a gleam in his eyes, “and congratulations- you pass my test; welcome to The Bureau. The name’s Muta and this idiot here is Bird-Brain, a regular.”

“The name is Officer Toto Tsubame, nice to meet you and please, ignore this fatso.” Toto replied instead, bowing in greeting with a kind smile. “Are you new to the district? You are a bit young to be on your own…”

While Muta was large and hefty, Toto was his complete opposite with a slim frame and long, layered black locks tied into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck; reminding the brunette of a bird’s feathers. His skin was a tad darker than the larger mechanic and his clothes the standard dark navy-blue police uniform with the exception of knee-high shock absorption boots and a black carbon-fiber and titanium woven shirt that rested under the uniform with the cuffs rolled to his elbows. But what truly caught Haru’s attention was the unique dark-grey coloration of his eyes that she had only seen a few times before in holo-books or advertisements. “Oh wow, you have an optical upgrade on your eyes, I’ve never seen that before. That’s really cool…”

Here Toto gave a good-natured laugh, “you’re definitely new to Tokyo if this is your first time seeing something like that, but well spotted. My eyes have been altered with increased monocular vision and can see with UV and Infrared, alongside night vision. Plus, the color is a rather nice aesthetic as well- but that’s enough about me; what brings you here to the city Miss…”

“Haru. Haru Yoshioka, and it’s nice to meet you too.” She smiled, giving a bow of greeting in return. “I am here for an intern job at the Bureau. But, I’m not sure what cooking really has to do with robotics and engineering.”

Muta bit into the hamburger steak and sighed happily as he devoured the plate of food while Toto groaned at the mechanic’s table manners; or lack thereof. “I didn’t want some assistant who couldn’t take care of themselves, I’m not a babysitter. Besides, if you weren’t skilled enough to be here, I wouldn’t have offered you the job in the first place.”

“O-Oh, thank you.” Haru beamed, more than relieved that though he seemed to be rather rough and intimidating, Muta wasn’t that bad- arguing with Toto aside. “I promise I’ll do my best, and thank you for your help Moo-ta.” Haru quickly gasped, raising her hands to her mouth in horror as if attempting to prevent the words from being heard, but it was too late.

“What?! Did you just say Moo? Like I’m some kind of fat cow!”

“No, no, you’re just fat! Oh- um…”

Toto, meanwhile, had lost all pretense of professionalism and started laughing with tears of amusement threatening to spill from his eyes. “Bahahaha! Oh, you’re going to fit in here quite well with nicknames like that Haru. I’m definitely going to be using that one.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up bird-brain.” Muta grumbled, glaring at the still chuckling policeman, “and you Chicky- you got anything to say for yourself or to me, your boss?”

Haru gave a nervous smile, “I’m sorry Muta, it really did slip out. Would you accept an Insta-Pudding with my apology?”

The ivory-haired man stared down at her with an irritated look before sighing, “make it an Angel Cake from Osono’s bakery down the street, and we’re even.”

“Coming right up!” The young woman chimed before quickly making her way toward the aforementioned bakery.

Toto and Muta both watched her leave with the former giving a thoughtful hum, “Yoshioka huh? I don’t suppose she wouldn’t happen to be related to Hayata Yoshioka, would she?”

“His daughter apparently, if you’re that curious. And she’s only a few good years younger than you and me, idiot.” Muta answered, releasing the AeroCycle from the hydraulic lift while wiping the oil and grease from his hands. “I didn’t know he had a kid, and thought the name was just a coincidence till I saw the resume file Haru and her friends sent me. She was apparently fixing Alpha-class mechs at 11 years old.”

Toto gave an impressed whistle, “well, she’s certainly her father’s daughter if that’s the case.”

"I thought that too, but it was the fact that she has no personal cyber-enhancements that really sealed the deal." Muta added, that information causing the slim police officer to splutter in shock. "So I thought ‘why not?’ and decided to give her a shot; and it wasn’t like I was going to turn down the help- so here we are. But the fact that she can cook is a definite bonus.”

“Do you ever not think from your stomach?”

“Shut up, bird-brain!”

Toto sighed, “well, just try to keep an eye on her, alright? Not everything is exactly safe here, so if you ever need anything give me a call.”

“Thanks… you big chicken,” Muta answered before giving a devious grin and holding out his hand. “Now for the repairs, that’ll be 3,500 credits.”

“What?! That’s daylight robbery!”

“Is that so? And here I was giving you the ‘Friends and Family’ discount. But if you would rather pay full-price, who am I to deny you that.”

By the time Haru returned to the Workshop, she could hear Toto and Muta starting to argue once more and was glad she decided to buy two cakes in order to pacify both parties. Though slightly nervous about her new job, Haru couldn't help the feeling of joy at the upcoming work ahead of her.

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Sumptuous Creation to adore yourselves - Cosube

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red line

Mike Newton catches a train. Oneshot.

rating: T

pairings: gen

warnings for: minor character death, violence, slight xenophobia and sexism, bad language

read on ao3

The sun was just beginning to emerge from behind the clouds as Mike Newton stepped onto the escalator. A few final raindrops plopped half-heartedly onto his head and shoulders as the metal steps bore him sluggishly down into the vast concrete pit, its walls perfectly circular and perfectly useless against the elements. What a stupid way to build an escalator. If the sun hadn’t made its timely appearance, he would have been steadily soaked the whole way down into the bowels of the subway system.

He paid little attention to the weekend tourist bustle around him. He was playing out the usual Saturday morning mental debate over whether to stop and get presents for Chloe when he was already running late. Would it be worth the headache of Jessica pitching another fit, accusing him trying to buy their daughter’s affection and undermine her parenting? Mike couldn’t decide. On the one hand, it was fun to piss Jess off now and then. On the other hand, her voice got so damn shrill.

It was kind of a drag, Mike thought as he stepped off the escalator, that Chloe would only ever know them like this. That she would never be able to remember a time when her parents didn’t hate each other. He and Jess really had been happy for a while, when Chlo was a baby. He imagined trying to explain those college years of giddy freedom and first love to a teenaged Chloe someday, How I Met Your Mother-style, and came up empty.

He needed to get the hell out of this city, Mike knew. It was getting nastier by the day. Chloe should grow up somewhere with fresh air and wide open spaces. He swiped his fare card, pushed through the turnstile, and let his mind conjure up somewhere better—not a lame white picket fence scenario, but maybe a nice condo or something, with gleaming modern architecture and a pool someone else cleaned. There would be a playground for Chlo and a decent bar for him, where the cute girl mixing drinks would ask if he was new in town…

A crowd of fashionably dressed teenagers rushed past, carrying those heavy umbrellas meant to block out UV rays rather than rain and chattering in rapid Japanese. Mike followed them down the stairs to the red line platform at a more leisurely pace. An LED sign announced that next train wouldn’t be arriving for another five minutes—couldn’t they read?

The lower platforms always felt oddly claustrophobic compared to the cavernous upper ones with their vast, inverted ice-cube-tray ceilings. Mike pondered his chances of getting the last car to himself for once. Usually it was a long shot, but today things were looking up: the crowd had gathered on the far end of the platform, where a man with a bass guitar was plucking out the opening bars of “Superstition,” his grin a white flash in the subterranean gloom. He was having a good day, by the looks of it—as Mike watched, one of the tourist kids tossed a few bucks into the open guitar case at the busker’s feet, already full of more bills than coins.

In the lull between trains, the acoustics weren’t half bad down here. The twangs of the bass cut through the air, somehow sharper and cleaner in the dark, without the distracting visual clutter of the aboveground world. Moving closer, Mike switched the water bottle he was carrying into his left hand and pulled out his phone to take a video for Chloe. She was still too little to pay much attention to lyrics, but she loved to dance. Bringing her a video instead of a present would be a good compromise. This way he wouldn’t have to stop and make himself even later to pick her up. And it wasn’t like Jess could object to dim iPhone footage of a Stevie Wonder cover.

He was so focused on the screen that he didn’t realize how close he was to the edge of the platform until he nearly tripped over the little warning bumps they put there for blind people. Oops. Close one.

His stumbling recovery meant he happened to be looking down at just the right moment to notice the stiletto-clad feet strolling along the very lip of the platform, coming down left, right in time to the beat of the music.

Seven years of bad luck, good things in your past…

Mike looked up and felt his breath catch in his throat.

Holy fuck.

Two women were striding up the platform. Two stunningly, unbelievably beautiful women.

The first, the one in stilettos, was petite and Asian. She wouldn’t have looked out of place among the trendy Japanese teens, except that she would have looked out of place anywhere by virtue of sheer attractiveness. Her dark hair was cropped short and slicked boldly back as if to say, look at me, I’m so exquisitely feminine that long hair would be superfluous. Her short, black dress was tight around her slim thighs (Mike swallowed.) The rest of her lithe figure was engulfed in an oversized coat—a strange choice in this hot summer weather. A pair of oversized designer sunglasses completed the look, hiding her eyes.

Like the Japanese girls, she carried a large black anti-UV umbrella, though her skin was such a pale blue-white that it looked like she could’ve used some sun. In her other hand dangled a bag from Saks Fifth Avenue, swinging back and forth in time to the twangs of the guitar.

And a few steps behind her trailed her companion.

If the first woman was inhumanly gorgeous, this one was…indescribable. Where the first girl was an appealingly slender nymph, the second was a full-figured Amazon in leather boots, jeans, and a motorcycle jacket. Instead of dark hair cropped short, magnificent blonde waves cascaded down her back, glinting bronze in the red floor lights. Her features had nothing in common with the first girl’s except for their flawless, airbrushed symmetry—and that her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses.

How could she see? It was dim enough down here even without tinted lenses. Why didn’t she take them off? Mike’s brain filled in the gaps: beneath the glasses she’d have big blue eyes with mascara-commercial lashes, of course.

The red lights at his feet began to flash. Mike felt a shiver of longing as the women passed within inches of him, equally unconcerned with him and the oncoming train. He couldn’t resist checking out the taller woman’s ass as they passed (sure enough, it was as magnificent as the rest of her.) The petite woman’s ass was regrettably shielded from view by her giant coat.

Without thinking, Mike swiveled his phone around to follow the two women.

By now the crowd around the guitarist had begun to disperse along the platform, ready to jockey for seats. Amid the commotion of flashing lights, whooshing air, rumbling train, and the busker’s voice belting out lyrics over the noise, no one else seemed to notice the two mysterious supermodels.

WHEN YOU BELIEVE IN THINGS YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!

Ding ding! Doors opening. Step back to allow customers to exit.

THEN YOU SUFFER!

When boarding, please move to the center of the car.

The two women stopped a polite distance from the busker, who looked up at his audience and immediately missed a note.

Ding-ding-ding-ding! Step back, doors closing.

The back of Mike’s mind prickled uneasily as the train began to pull away. Never mind, he’d catch the next one in seven minutes. He was already late anyway, what were seven more minutes? Right now he was exactly where he wanted to be: in the comfortable darkness of the station, listening to a guy sing about the devil, taking a video for Chloe, and harmlessly ogling two of the hottest girls he was ever likely to see.

The busker had recovered quickly and was strumming with extra gusto, hamming it up for the pretty newcomers now that he was seemingly alone with them on the platform (none of the three had noticed Mike, who was mostly obscured from their sightline by a person-sized billboard ad for grocery deliveries.)

The brunette turned to murmur something to her companion, and as the noise of the train died away, Mike was able to catch a few words.

“—understand, but can’t…until nightfall? …too public.” her voice was as lovely as her face.

The blonde shook her magnificent head. “Easy for you…already fed…stuck down here anyway, and I’m thirsty.”

She was thirsty? Oh, perfect! Mike’s hand tightened around the bottle of water he carried—thank fuck it was unopened. How should he approach and offer it to her? What would be the best, least creepy angle to take?

The busker had evidently had the same idea, because he paused in singing (but not playing) long enough to call out over the music, “You ladies thirsty? I got some Gatorade right here. Help yourselves!”

Mike’s insides seared with jealousy at having been beaten to the punch. The blonde’s face broke into a smile of such dazzling radiance that she almost seemed to glow, a white-and-gold apparition wreathed in shadow.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said, and disappeared.

Or that was how it looked to Mike. One second she was standing beside the brunette at the end of the platform, and the next she had reappeared fifteen feet away, beside the busker, who had no time to be astonished before she sank her teeth into his throat.

There was an awful, choking gargle and a discordant cacophony of twanging strings as the music cut off.

The busker’s arms flailed in a spasm of shock and pain, striking feebly out at his attacker. She casually pinioned them to his sides. There was a sound like crumpling plastic—had his bones just snapped?

The little brunette had not moved, but was watching these events with an expression of detached resignation. “Oh, Rose,” she sighed, crossing her delicate arms as if her friend’s behavior was just so typically embarrassing.

From where Mike stood, hidden behind the free-standing wall of the advertisement, he could see the creature called Rose in crystal clear detail: her long fingers, gripping the busker’s dirty T-shirt. The twin lenses of her sunglasses, peering blankly over his shoulder. Her perfect pink lips, fastened on his neck in a profane parody of a kiss.

But most of all he couldn’t look away from the muscles of her elegant white throat, pulsing beneath her skin as she swallowed.

She was drinking. Drinking the man’s blood. Holy fucking shit.

It was around this time Mike became aware that he had frozen in place behind the ad, his feet rooted to the tile, his hand still outstretched and still holding his phone, which was still recording.

Right on the heels of the realization that he had just witnessed a murder came the realization that he had captured it all on video. Oh, God. Had they seen him? The light from his phone screen suddenly seemed blindingly obvious. He snatched it back, clutching it and the water bottle to his pounding chest as he pressed himself against the billboard. From this angle he could still see the brunette, but not the blonde—Rose—or her victim. How long did it take to drain a body of blood, anyway? Oh, God. Why hadn’t he just boarded the train?

He checked the LED sign that announced when the next train was coming: five minutes. Five minutes before he could move from his hiding place.

The sound of a train arriving on one of the upper platforms seemed horribly distant, as though he heard it from underwater. To think there were people, regular people going about their days, so close, just up the stairs…if he called for help, would they hear him? Would they make it to him in time?

He remembered the way Rose had seemed to teleport across the platform, and the sound of the busker’s bones snapping, and doubted it.

Above him, the train pulled away. Mike struggled to calm his breathing in the quiet that followed. Cold sweat seeped through the back of his shirt. Four more minutes.

A soft sound floated its way to his ears: someone was humming the melody to “Superstition.” The little brunette had picked up where the unfortunate busker had left off. She was once again swinging her shopping bag back and forth, back and forth, radiating bored impatience as she watched her friend’s sick tableau unfold.

Mike nearly jumped out of his skin as the busker’s body collapsed into his line of sight with a soft thunk. He choked back the scream that wanted to claw its way from his throat as the man’s blank, staring eyes looked right through him.

“You could have waited until the song was over,” scolded the brunette.

“I was thirsty,” came the angelic voice of Rose.

“Then clean up,” ordered the brunette. “We’ve got three minutes.”

The body disappeared from Mike’s view. He heard a horrible wet thump as it hit something—the tracks on the opposite side of the platform? He didn’t care, as long as it didn’t interfere with this next train—his train.

Three minutes. He only had to last three more minutes. Then he could blend in with the crowd, casually board the train. The doors would slide shut and he’d be home free. He could get off at the next stop and go straight to the police. He didn’t need them to believe his whole story, just to watch the evidence on video…

“Did you leave blood on the floor?” came the brunette’s voice. “I’m still seeing an investigation.”

“That’s usually what happens when a person throws himself under a train, Alice,” said Rose.

The water bottle clutched in Mike’s left hand, slick with sweat and condensation, was beginning to slip. Gingerly, hardly daring to breathe, he bent down. Had to put it somewhere he wouldn’t trip over it. Had to set it down slowly, silently, before it could fall and make a noise.

He did it. Not a sound as the plastic touched tile. Mike straightened back up in equal silence, allowing himself a slow exhale of relief. Two minutes. He only had to last two more minutes.

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzz.

The vibration of his phone, still clutched against his chest, jolted violently through him like a shock from a defibrillator.

Stupid, fucking phone! He shut it off before it could vibrate a third time. Jessica’s smiling face winked out on the screen.

Silence. Mike held his breath. Maybe they hadn’t heard it.

There was a light breeze, a rush of air in the dark.

“Well, well. What have we here?” She was standing before him.

Seen up close, the brunette—Alice, the other one had called her—was tiny. Even in heels, she didn’t reach Mike’s shoulder. Her smile was open, friendly, and devastatingly beautiful. It reached all the way to her eyes, free of sunglasses now. Eyes that were not the brown he’d imagined at all, but a lurid, vibrant crimson.

Rose appeared in the shadows behind her, wiping her mouth. “Is that who was breathing so loud?”

Alice tilted her head, appraising. “I thought he did rather well, all things considered. I’ll take that.” She reached up and slid the phone from Mike’s boneless hand, which offered no resistance.

His arms and legs had turned to useless jelly. His Adam’s apple throbbed as he swallowed, trying to moisten his mouth enough to speak:

“P-please…I have a daughter…”

Alice’s red eyes unfocused. A little crease appeared between her eyebrows. “Oh, she’ll be fine,” she told Mike. “Your ex is about to be promoted and transferred to the suburbs. The schools are much better out there, you know.”

“Quit dawdling, Alice,” scolded Rose. “The train will be here any second. Just snap his neck and let’s go. You already fed.”

Alice looked thoughtful. “Hmm, yes, but I’m not full yet.” She grinned again, exposing back teeth.

Mike’s instincts kicked in. The synapses in his brain fired, commanding his body to bolt for the stairs.

Before his muscles could stir, a little hand clamped around his arm, as hard and cold as iron.

“Sorry,” said Alice. “But you know, ‘waste not’ and all that.”

On the floor, the lights began to flash again, staining her white teeth red.

She leaned in.

Yes I’m AWARE that I have a ton of WIPs but in my defense I was minding my own business waiting for the next train when the muse descended from on high and ordered me to write evil!Alice and Rose before I could finish anything else.

anyway I hope you enjoyed this installment of Evil Cullens Jukebox Hour! Might write more pieces for the other cullen kids if I can come up with Concepts. So far I’m thinking Jasper&Edy and Eleanor&Bells. Lmk who you think they should murder via my askbox

How to Shop for Sun Protective Apparel This Summertime

With summer season well under method, we ought to all be carefully slathering ourselves with sunscreen-- probably one the most important travel devices. If you aren't taking care of your skin to safeguard versus the risk of skin cancer, then at the very least do so for vanity's sake: About 90 percent of noticeable skin aging is created by dangerous UV rays from the sun. And also, with an expanding number of brand names designing wearable, elegant 'UPF' clothes, it's much easier than ever to cover. According to Dr. Roy Geronemus, supervisor of the Laser & Skin Surgery Center of New York that counts Drew Barrymore as one of his customers, choosing the best clothes can be crucial when it involves securing yourself against the sun's rays. "I routinely suggest sun-protective garments to my customers to protect against sunburns, lessen the danger of skin cancer cells, and prevent photoaging," claims Geronemus. "The bottom line is, there is a real worth with these products, and also they are underutilized." While the Skin Cancer Foundation informs Condé Nast Traveler that clothes is usually the finest methods of sunlight protection, it can be tough to identify just exactly how protective that outfit or tee shirt is simply by taking a look at it. Holding it up to the sunlight will certainly aid show how much noticeable light passes via, however not harmful UV radiation. So take note that sun-protective garments is ranked according to UPF, or ultraviolet defense aspect, which measures just how efficiently a piece of apparel guards versus the sunlight, as well as watch out for the UPF tag: based upon the content, weight, shade, and building of the material, it shows simply exactly how much UV can penetrate the clothes. Right here, our choices of a few of the best brand names around. Coolibar As Dr. Geronemus advises us, using a hat with a wide border is a piece of cake when it involves shielding your face from photo-aging, as well as Coolibar offers some solid UPF choices. (Established in 2001, the Aussie-founded business was the first to get the Skin Cancer Foundation's Seal of Recommendation for apparel.) Go with the Raffia straw hat coupled with some oversized sunglasses-- the 7.5-inch border and also UPF 50+ uses lots of coverage, and also an adjustable sizing in the crown indicates you can adapt to those gusty days by the ocean when you might require to hang on to your hat. The brand name has numerous various other UPF choices, as well, from harem-style pants to Breton t-shirts. Solbari In addition to a host of light-weight items, this Melbourne, Australia-- based firm develops little black gowns with built-in UPF 50+ security. Made from organic cotton as well as bamboo, the material really feels soft against your skin, with clever information like thumbholes to cover your hands, and pockets to stash your sunglasses. To put it simply, it's a suitable beach-to-bar option that considers that extra little sunlight defense when you need it. Cabana Life After being diagnosed with skin cancer, Condé Nast alumnus Melissa Papock established Cabana Life, with a strategy to make it less difficult to find trendy pieces that also secure skin. Consider it fashion fulfills function: There are windy tunic tops with a laid-back bohemian ambiance, patterned outfits, as well as silky coastline trousers in exotic prints, all with UPF 50+. Our favorite? The Bondi Beach Tie Waist Cover Up paired with K. Jacques shoes. Athleta Wearing UPF clothing likewise indicates using much less sun block, crucial if you want to help protect the globe's seas while swimming: Chemicals in certain sunblocks can lead to fatal coral lightening, a lot to make sure that Hawaii intends to ban chemical sunscreens entirely. Athleta has a variety of UPF 50+ bathing suits, browse gear, and exercise clothes so you can protect the environment while shielding your skin. Lilly Pulitzer Uber-preppy brand name Lilly Pulitzer, understood for its famous shift outfits in Palm Beach-inspired prints and intense custom colors, initially dipped its toes right into UPF clothes in 2015 with the Sophie Dress, and also has since started producing a whole host of alternatives. Choose between nautical blue prints, boatneck dresses, and French terry tops with raglan sleeves and scratched collars (plus, pockets!). J. Crew In enhancement to UPF rashguards and also lengthy sleeve swimwears, J. Crew has actually partnered with New York artist Rob Pruitt to produce an ombré sunset-hued limited-edition rash guard, with 50 percent of the market price given away to the Skin Cancer Foundation. Doing a kindness while looking great and also shielding your skin? Sounds like a bargain. Mott 50 According to the Skin Cancer Foundation, a slim, white cotton T-shirt enables concerning one fifth of the sunlight's UV rays to reach the skin. The Good News Is, New York City brand name Mott 50, first developed by 2 buddies in a home on Soho's Mott Street, creates easy, fashionable essentials that additionally help you cover. We enjoy the long-sleeved maritime red stripe tee with thumb holes to shield that fragile skin on your hands.

Retail http://ift.tt/2BJU9KD

I want choo

Visual Merchandising

Practice Acceptance

Serving Spoon

Steel with Fashion Mannequin

Prada Bags

Fur Jacket

Beautiful Steel Fruit Bowl

Mini Pouch

Cap Design

Flashy Fur Collar for Dress

Child Mannequin

Long Legged Mannequin

Use “Now” in Advertising

Conspicuous Giant Model

Telstra Welcome u In

Hair Dryer with Retractable Cord

Toy with Big Eyes

Blender with Bigger Chute for Bigger Fruit

Integrate Diamonds into Jewelry Advertising

Yellow Dress

Bag Ornament

Blue Bag

Fendi Boots

Cool Furry Shoes

Jewelry Bag

Cool Dress

Toilet Green Button with Sign to tell u to Push to Open

Soft Fur Underlay for Boots

Get in Quick!

Flower Retail Store Concept

Green Dress

How to sell Exercise Wear

Green Dress

Purple Dress

How to Wear a Jeans Jacket

Dress with Mini Bag

Advertising with Arrow on it

Macpac Store gives free brochures to teach u how to care for down jacket

Mirror & Shoe

Jumper Dyed with Dried Fruit

Adairs Visual Merchandising

Visual Merchandising

Pointy Toilet Bowl Design Prevents Urine from Dripping onto Floor

Get Further Discounts in store & online

Giant Polar Bear Toy next to Cot Keeps Baby Safe

Floor Sticker Guides People to Mall Upper Levels

Lego Mascot

Overdose on Vitamin = Fail to Sell

Toilet Sign

"Free" sign on Free Newspapers = $

How to make ur New Item Stand Out?

Tiny Font on Advertising is a No No

Tiny Font on Advertising is a No No

Fantasies & Legends to Life

Display Books Horizontally

Waste of Productivity with Long Queues for Free Newspapers

Shirts on Display with Creases

Store Window Ledge obstruct Beauty of Item

Dented Luggage Demo Set = Poor Sales

Let us know if u don't need a bag sign

Vase made out of Pencils

Uniqlo Clothing Filters Out UV Rays

Clothing Rack Pole Obstruct View of Item

Clothing Rack Pole Blocked View of Item

Magazine Categories on Shelf Edge

Singapore Jewelry Store should not change Advertising during opening hours

Microwave wants u to buy it online

Gift Card Hacks

Black Shoes

7 Eleven Cold Napkin

Shark Bag

Mirror Quote

R U Cumming to Migrate to Australia to Play with Her?

Showing posts with label Retail. Show all posts

R U Cumming to Migrate to Australia to Play with Her?

Sign at Cashier communicate to Customer to Order Online

Sunscreen with Clip

Stop the Power Company Rip Off

Baby Swaddle

Cum Migrate to Australia for Her

She wants u to Cum to Migrate to Australia for Her

Pair Dragon in Advertising

Pair Dragon in Advertising

Pair Tiger in Advertising

When to Break the Rules?

Feel Linen Samples before u buy

"Try Me" Sign sell Pens

Lighting Forms Heart Shape on Advertising

Golden Turtle Shell

TV Play Advertising to Customers while they wait for Lift

TV Play Advertising to Customers while they wait for Lift

Speaker TV System with DIY Test Listen Function Implemented

Bose Speaker TV Systems without DIY Test Listen Function / Buttons (Before our feedback): Bose Speaker TV Systems with DIY Test Listen Function (After our Feedback):

Retail February 07, 2018 at 07:44AM

Places To Be by mooonfruit featuring backpack bags ❤ liked on Polyvore

Long shirt dress / Kelsi Dagger Brooklyn black heeled shoes / Backpack bag / Illesteva uv protection sunglasses, $275 / Custom Brownstone, Building, Block, City Illustrated Drawing