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sonarspace · 2 months

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appointment, fem!geto

a/n: fem suguru is constantly on my mind so here's this... content: fem!geto. laser tech!geto. x reader (fem). nsfw. wc: 906

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

you walk in to the clinic right on time for your appointment. the receptionist lets you know that your usual laser technician hasn't come in today and someone else will be replacing her.

not expecting that you're nervous as you wrap a towel around your body and lay onto the bed - waiting for your new laser tech. she walks in with a big smile, "hii, my name's suguru. i'll be taking care of you today" she chirps.

she was beautiful, you thought. the kind of beautiful that drives all coherent thoughts out of your brain and jumbles your words. her long black hair tied into a half bun while the rest drapes over her shoulders and back. her bangs frame her face perfectly.

"i take it, you're not much of a talker," she chuckles lightly — bringing you out of your thoughts. you meek out a "sorry" as you introduce yourself. she undos her half updo and grabs all her hair back into a bun. your eyes move over her face and then over her neck. you wondered how smooth the skin of her neck would be. how smooth it would feel under your lips.

you breathe in heavily when she moves closer to where you're laying. scared that she might've read your thoughts. "i've done this a lot, so you don't have anything to worry about. just spread your legs a bit and stay still for me, okay?" she tries to comfort you.

you hum and do as she says. spreading your legs enough so she can get a perfect view of your cunt. you gulp when you feel her soft hands on your thighs.

so soft, suguru thinks when her hands move over your thighs. eliciting goosebumps across your skin. you looked so pretty laying like this. a cute nervous pout on your lips. a wetness coating your cunt. was this because of her? she wonders.

your hole clenches around nothing as her eyes move between you and your cunt. a small smirk plays on her lips. "you okay?" she teases. her thumb rubs smalls circles into the skin of your inner thigh. close to where you needed her.

not thinking it through, you whine out a "please". it was a gamble really. you weren't sure if she wasn't into women. you think you'd die on the spot out of embarrassment if she rejects you. but you were lucky. cause she was into women. especially the ones who looked like you — innocent but far from it.

"what do you want, pretty girl?" her hand inches closer — a finger grazing your wetness. "you," you whisper in desperation. as soon as the three letter word is out of your mouth, a carnal need takes over her and she's pulling you closer to her mouth.

you gasp as her mouth makes contact with your pussy. a peck to your clit, as if she was greeting it. a peck to your folds. a peck to your hole. "suguru," you lean on your elbows as you call out her name. growing needy and undeniably wet.

she licks a stripe from your hole to your clit. her lips wrapping around your nub and sucking hungrily. she hums in satsifaction at the taste of you. sweet with a little bit of a kick to it. loving the feel of your fine hair that entrapped your wetness, she tugs it lightly with her teeth. eliciting a deep groan from you.

"you're gonna get us caught," she huffs a laugh. you try to but can't keep quiet as she continues her assault on your needy cunt. your body was reacting to her every touch. her hands move over your towel, tugging and letting it fall around you.

her mouth gapes slightly as she takes you in your bare body. she keeps her eyes on your face as her hand cups your boob - squeezing lightly and moving her thumb of your hardened nipple. your eyes squeeze shut as her tongue moves in and out of you.

she moans at the way your hole clenches around her tongue — the sound reverberating throughout the room. she pulls back from your cunt in need for a proper breath. her chin coated in your wetness. before she can go back you pull her towards you. "kiss me," you plead her.

you both hum as your lips make contact. you can taste yourself on her lips. on her tongue as she pushes it in. moving over yours languidly. taking her time. completely opposite to her hand in between your thighs which moved at a vigorous pace. "so close," you whine into the kiss.

the pleasure takes over your body and she keeps her lips locked with yours, swallowing your moans. if this was her bed, she would have you screaming her name as you cum, but she can't take that risk here.

you fall back on the bed breathing heavily as you watch her eyes roll back at the taste of you on her fingers. she grabs a towel and cleans you up quickly. "i think you need to let it grow a little longer," she jokes. and you both laugh.

"can i take you on a date, tonight?" she asks breaking the silence. "yeah," a blush creeps up your neck. an innocent smile on your lips and she's instantly thinking of how it would look around her strap. would you be into that? she can't wait to find out.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 9 months

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Two Hearts, One Home (2)

part one

series masterlist

main masterlist

summary: you and ben have to face the reality of what he heard

pairing: soldier boy x female supe!reader

rating: R for language, mature themes (?)

word count: 4.0k

warnings: pregnancy, language, vought torturing supe’s | mentions of/alludes to - sex, birth control, infertility issues, miscarriage, loss of a child, unable to breastfeed

timeline: set a few days after part one

author’s note: part two!! thank you for all the love on the first part and encouraging me to turn this into a mini-series 😚🫶

gif source

You tossed and turned, wide awake and laying in an empty bed. You huffed and threw the covers to the side before leaving the master bedroom and going to look for Ben. You found him quickly; he was reading one of the books that had come in the mail, the lamp on behind him as he was laser-focused on the pages.

“Ben? Can you come to bed?” you asked quietly.

“Oh my god, you’re still awake?” he whisper-shouted. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine Ben, I just want to sleep next to you!”

“I’ll come to bed soon, okay? I just need to finish this chapter, it’s on nutrition so I think the more we know the better.”

“Ben,” you sighed as you walked over to him. “Can you read it in bed? Please?”

“But you can’t sleep if the bedroom light’s on,” he replied.

“I can’t sleep without you either, Ben, and I’d rather have the light on than an empty bed,” you said. “Please come sit in bed and read so I can be close to you?”

“You really can’t sleep without me?” He smiled widely. You rolled your eyes a little.

“I mean I could if I had to, but you’re right here and I want to be with you!”

“Okay,” he sighed.

As suspected, you fell asleep quite quickly when Ben was seated beside you. Something about his warm legs against your back really relaxed you.

When you woke up the next morning, the bed was empty again. You let out a slightly frustrated sigh.

“Please be in the kitchen,” you muttered to yourself, hoping Ben hadn’t secretly retreated to the living room to read all night once you fell asleep.

“Good morning my beautiful girlfriend!” Ben exclaimed when you walked into the kitchen.

“I look like shit right now,” you replied but couldn’t help the smile on your face. “What’s for breakfast? Is there pizza left from last night?” You opened the fridge but Ben stopped you from taking out the tupperware.

“I read that you should avoid eating leftovers,” he told you.

“What? That can’t be true?” you laughed a little.

“Sorry, hun.” He shrugged. “I made you scrambled eggs and toast, the book said those are good.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and put a hand on his cheek. He bent down and kissed you, wrapping a gentle arm around your waist. “I love you, Ben.”

“I love you,” he replied, also smiling. “Oh, Hughie got back to me. He said he could swing by on his lunch break later today,” he informed you as you both took your seats at the table. “He said there’s actually a whole chain of clinics across the country specifically for pregnant Supe’s and that it’s all very safe and kept confidential. So good news! You can see a gynecologist and not, you know… get kidnapped.”

“He’s positive it’s safe?” you asked, Ben nodded. “Let’s hope he’s right.”

“How’d you sleep last night? Did the light bother you?” Ben changed the subject, not wanting to focus on how scared he was for your safety.

“Well when I woke up the love of my life wasn’t beside me.” You sighed dramatically, making Ben smile. “But yeah, I slept well.”

“Sorry about last night, I should’ve just put the fuckin’ book down,” he laughed dryly.

“Don’t apologize.” You shook your head. “Ben, I am so grateful for you stepping up! I mean this whole pregnancy thing is kinda terrifying for me right now and you’ve been my fucking rock! Thank you for reading up on what I should be eating, honestly it slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your mind?” He furrowed his brows, you instantly knew what he was getting at.

“It’s not pregnancy brain fog,” you laughed a little. “It’s more like all I can think about is how fucking scary this really is! I mean, look what happened with Homelander!”

“Hey, let’s just,” he took your hand, “take a breath, we don’t have to think about that yet. Today we focus on getting you a doctor’s appointment.”

You nodded, silently thanking him.

“Hughie! Come on in!” Ben opened the door.

“Hey guys.” He smiled, walking in. “First off, oh my god!” He looked at you. “Congratulations! Like wow! This is incredible!” He hugged you, causing you to smile widely.

“Thank you, Hughie,” you said, hugging him back.

He congratulated Ben too before the three of you sat down at the kitchen table, now clean of breakfast evidence.

“So, like I told Ben on the phone,” Hughie spoke, looking at you as he opened the file folder he brought, “there’s something called ‘The Super-Abled Health Initiative’ which is basically just doctors for Supe’s. The closest gynecologist that takes part in this initiative is about a two hour drive.” He took out a pamphlet for the Initiative and another for the doctor’s office, sliding them across the table for you and Ben to take a look at. “Now, this specific office doesn’t only deal with Supe’s, however the doctor that takes Supe patients is a Supe herself. I figured you’d rather go to this one, but there’s another office that’s about a four hour drive that only takes Supe patients; however, they also have a strict no-Supe-doctors policy.”

“Yeah that definitely sounds sketchy,” you replied, referring to the second option. “So… how like… certain are you that this Initiative is safe?”

“One-hundred-percent.” He nodded, earning suspicious looks from both Supe’s sitting across from him. “It’s been going on for over five years and there isn’t any evidence of foul play.”

“Only five years?” Ben asked.

“It was created around the same time as Supe Affairs,” Hughie said. “Look, obviously this is a scary situation considering you’re both in the top ten most powerful Supe’s in Vought history and Soldier Boy is ridiculously famous, but this is also the safest option available.” Ben tensed up at the mention of his old name, you put a hand on his knee absent-mindedly to remind him he wasn’t that man anymore.

“So it’s all still pretty new?” Ben knitted his brows with concern. All he wanted was to keep you safe; if that meant possibly losing the baby he could live with that. He couldn’t live with losing you.

Hughie continued on and explained the Supe pregnancy statistics. How often the expectant mother died when she was a human carrying a Supe, how often the baby was a Supe, more and more reasons for you to freak the hell out about the whole thing.

“Yeah, I can’t do this.” You shook your head and stood up. Ben looked up at you with concern. He reached out to hold your hand, and you responded by putting said hand to his cheek. “Just- Just make the appointment or whatever for me, please. I’m gonna go lie down before I have a full-fledged panic attack over the fact I may be dooming all of humanity with Homelander Two: Possibly Worse Edition.”

You hurried out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. When you were out of Hughie’s earshot you let yourself cry, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry.” Hughie looked at Ben.

“No, it’s not you,” he replied, shaking his head. “So do we just call and make an appointment?”

Hughie looked a little confused by the question, then realized that Ben would’ve never had the need to make a doctor’s appointment in his entire life.

“I can call for you if you want,” Hughie offered.

“Thanks.”

After Hughie left, Ben went to go talk to you.

“Honey?” he said quietly, opening the door. “Hughie just left, he said to tell you ‘bye’.”

“Sorry for leaving you alone out there,” you mumbled. You looked up at him from where you laid on the bed.

“Don’t be, I handled it like a pro.” Ben grinned, taking a seat next to you. You smiled through the tears. You loved how he could make such an intense situation seem so lighthearted.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You reached out and took his hand in yours, pulling him down to lay next to you. He positioned himself on his side so he could face you, not letting go of your hand. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he said. “Hughie made the appointment for tomorrow at two, is that okay?” You nodded, still smiling. “When we go in, we’re only supposed to use our first names and since neither of us really have a last name, they’ll assign us a series of numbers when we get there. They do not want us to utter my Supe name because apparently I’ll draw too much attention.”

“Yeah you tend to draw a crowd, don’t you?” You smiled.

“There’s your baby,” Dr.Roberts told you, pointing at the screen.

“Is…Is that the heartbeat?” you asked, she nodded. “That’s what you heard that morning?” You looked at Ben, who was smiling and had tears brimming his eyes.

“Told ya,” he replied.

“Oh my god,” you giggled a little.

“Your baby looks healthy,” the doctor said.

“Boy or girl?” Ben asked.

“Don’t tell him!” you said quickly. “I- I think I want it to be a surprise.

“It’s actually too early to know the sex,” the doctor replied, smiling. “What matters right now is keeping the baby healthy. The best way to do that is take care of yourself, Y/n. I know you’re used to being invincible but right now your baby is not. You need to start thinking like a regular human.”

“Meaning, what?” you asked.

“Well, for one; daily vitamins. I can give you a list of ones that have worked for other Supe’s.”

After the ultrasound, Dr.Roberts answered all the questions you and Ben had, as well as explained some things about the way this specific office handled Supe pregnancy.

“The biggest thing to remember for when the baby comes - do not breastfeed! Many, many Supe’s have traces of V in what they give their baby which always ends up either killing the baby or strengthening any power they have. Most of the time it’s the former.” The smile plastered on your face fell into disappointment and you zoned out a bit. “You’ll both have to sign these papers,” Dr.Roberts handed them to Ben, “not right now, you can have some time to read over them or involve a lawyer if you want. It basically just says that you are both aware you have Compound V in your system, how that will affect your baby, that you are the father, and that Y/n is willingly having this baby.”

“Is this something all the parents sign?” Ben asked. “Seems a little extreme.”

“It’s just for Supe’s so that they can’t sue us if they’re baby does end up also being a Supe.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” Ben muttered.

“Here’s that list of vitamins,” Dr.Roberts handed you the paper as you were pulled from your thoughts and back to reality. “As well as some foods to avoid and foods to eat more frequently. You may notice the food list is a bit different for us. It’s not an exact science, but the baby tends to be healthier when the mom eats these specific foods.”

“What are the chances this baby won’t be a Supe?” you asked as you looked away from the papers in front of you and at the doctor. She sighed, looking nervous. “Like, off the record, what’s your personal opinion?”

“Off the record? I’d say there’s no way this baby isn’t going to be a Supe. Probably the strongest one we’ve seen, considering their dad is Soldier Boy and their mother is… well, you know.”

Ben kept his eyes on the road as he reached his hand over to hold yours.

“All the scary stuff aside,” he started, “I’m so fucking excited about this baby… are you?”

You took a second to think before nodding, “Yeah, I am. And, all the scary stuff aside, there’s no one I would rather be having this baby with, Ben.” You kissed his hand. “I love you.”

“I love you so much,” he replied. “We need to stop at the store, don’t we?”

“Yeah we don’t have most of the stuff on this list,” you laughed a little. “I’m pushing the cart this time, though.”

“You’re hilarious.” He shook his head, letting out a fake laugh.

Ben’s head was resting on your lap as you played with his hair and focused on the movie you two were watching. (A horror movie, much to Ben’s dismay; he claimed it might scare the baby.)

“Do you wanna tell Butcher and the others?” Ben asked. “Cause Hughie already knows, so… should we tell everyone?”

“I think it’s still pretty early but I guess the more people who know the better. If Vought does find out, they’ll have a harder time covering it up if Billy Butcher knows about it,” you laughed a little.

“Yeah he wouldn’t let ‘em get away with hurting you.” Ben smiled up at you, turning away from the TV. “Ooh we need baby names too!”

“Have any in particular?”

“Jim?”

“A little plain I think, but I guess James then could be Jim for short.”

“Micheal? Or, if they’re a girl, Michelle?”

“Oh I like Michelle!” You smiled.

You two ended up calling Butcher that night and telling him the good news.

As the weeks went by and your belly slowly started growing, Ben talked more and more to the baby. You woke up one night to him mumbling to your stomach; his head resting on your chest (carefully, as not to hurt your boobs), his hand cradling your belly.

“God, I hope you have your mother’s eyes,” he whispered. “She always tells me how much she loves my eyes but believe me hers are so much more beautiful. So bright and full of love. I hope you have her laugh too!” He paused, running his hand over your skin. “I know you’re probably gonna be a Supe…but I’m praying to any god that’s up there you’re not. Life’s so messy when you’re a Supe, kid. So please, please don’t be one!”

You moved your hand into his hair and felt him tense up for a moment.

“Damn it I think I just woke your mom up, I’ll be quiet now,” Ben whispered.

“Mhm, keep talking,” you mumbled. “Love your voice.”

He sat up and kissed your cheek gently before laying back down.

“Go easy on your mom for me, okay?” he whispered, once again talking to the baby.

“Pamela?” Ben suggested.

“No!”

“Meredith?”

“What? No!”

“Phyllis!”

You were once again trying out different baby names, Ben with his head on your lap so “the baby can be part of the conversation”.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you just naming characters from The Office!?”

“…No,” Ben mumbled before grinning.

“Ben! I need you to be serious here; this baby is gonna get bullied to death if we name them Phyllis.”

“Okay.” He rolled his eyes. “Amelia, Rachel, Amy, Katherine, Emily, it’s not that hard to name a baby girl! A boy is a different story. Most guy names suck ass.”

“Yeah, Ben is a terrible name,” you replied, he looked genuinely hurt for a moment. “Ben, I’m kidding!” you said quickly.

“I know, I was just scaring ya.” He smirked, you rolled your eyes.

“How about William?” you asked. You’d actually put a lot of thought into it, and if you were having a boy you really wanted to name them after the man who saved you and Ben.

“As in Butcher?” Ben laughed a little. “You wanna name our perfect little piece of heaven after Billy Butcher!?”

“Yeah…” you mumbled, a little disappointed he was so against it. “I mean Butcher is the reason we met in the first place, the reason we aren’t being disected like lab rats, and I know deep down he’s a good person. I think our baby would be proud to be named after him.”

“You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”

“Yeah… for a couple months now.”

“Honey! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cause I was afraid you’d react exactly how you just did,” you scoffed a little. “Can you sit up? I need to get a drink.”

He sat up off your lap and you got off the couch, heading to the kitchen.

“Damn it,” Ben mumbled to himself before following you. “I’m sorry for reacting like that, I was just surprised.”

“You weren’t surprised Ben, you looked disgusted at the idea of our baby being named after Billy,” you scoffed. “How about last names?” You changed the subject. “We need a last name too, our baby can’t just have one name.”

“I haven’t thought about the last name much, you?”

You paused and pretended to think. “Krasinski?”

“I second that! Boom, done; our last name’s Krasinski!” Ben smiled.

“I was kidding!” you giggled.

You and Ben were back at the store getting food and stocking up on baby supplies for when the little one arrived in a few weeks.

“Shit, we forgot to get milk,” Ben said after a while of being away from the dairy section. “I’m gonna go grab it; you stay here and pick the jello you like, okay?”

“Mkay,” you mumbled, concentrating on the array of colored gelatin cups in front of you. “Love you!” you called out when he was a few feet away. He turned back around to kiss you quickly before leaving to get the milk.

“He’s a keeper, huh?” Someone behind you said. You turned and were met with the woman Ben had mentally scared with his ‘super sperm’ theory.

“He really is,” you replied.

“And you really are pregnant! Congratulations, hun!” She smiled.

“Thank you,” you replied, also smiling. “I- I’m sorry for what he said all those months ago,” you laughed awkwardly. “He… doesn’t have much of a filter sometimes and I’m sorry we freaked you out.”

“Oh, no! I didn’t leave because of what he said.” She shook her head, still smiling. “When I got a good look at his face, I realized who he was and why he looked so familiar.”

You froze, eyes widening. “Oh god,” you whispered.

“Don’t worry I haven’t said anything to anyone I promise! Even though my book club would love to see him in person!” she let out a soft chuckle. “You know at first I couldn’t believe my eyes! I mean the Soldier Boy? In my neighborhood!? But, I’m glad you two are happy together. I think he deserves to live a quiet life after all the people he’s saved.”

“Hey sweetheart,” Ben came up behind you and pressed a kiss to your temple, “I got the milk then I realized we need orange juice too, so I got some of that.” He put them both in the cart then placed an open hand on the small of your back.

“Honey this is…” you trailed off, asking for the woman’s name.

“Melissa,” she replied, holding her hand out for Ben to shake. “Nice to meet you…”

“Ben, and nice to meet you too,” he shook her hand.

“She recognized you,” you whispered very quietly so only Ben could hear. You felt him tense up next to you as his eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Well, we’ve uh- we have somewhere to be,” Ben stuttered as his hand moved to your waist to guide you away from the woman. “Uh my parent’s house, actually. They’re both alive and well and in their early seventies.” He tripped over his words and he hurried you out of the aisle, leaving the cart behind and confusing Melissa.

Ben moved his arm to wrap around your shoulders and hold you tight against him.

“Ben-”

“Shh, she might be listening,” he whispered.

He led you out to the car and when you both got there he opened the door for you. He made sure you were safely seated inside with the door closed before walking over to the driver’s side and taking a seat.

“Ben?” you asked quietly, seeing the fear in his now teary eyes.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, hitting the steering wheel angrily. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry!”

“Ben-”

“A-Are you s-sure she recognized me?” he asked, looking at you.

You nodded. “She said she couldn’t believe Soldier Boy was in this neighborhood.”

“Shit!” Ben put his face in his hands, you put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Do you think she told anyone?” He turned his head and kissed your hand. “Fuck, Vought could already be on us!”

“Ben, I don’t think she meant anything by it,” you told him honestly. You moved your hand to the back of his head so you could run your fingers through his hair slowly. “She seemed in awe of you. She said she was happy you could live a quiet life after saving so many people.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, you nodded with a smile when he looked at you. “Fuck, I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“Don’t be.”

“It’s just- one wrong move, one wrong person recognizing either of us and that’s it! This whole life we’ve built together gets torn down, you get taken from me, I get put back under, and our child is doomed. We’re doomed. I’m so fuckin’ scared of losing you, Y/n.”

“I love you so much, Ben. And I know, this situation is fucking terrifying but don’t forget; you are the strongest man alive, Ben. We can get through this.”

“Should we go back inside? We really need that stuff, we’re dangerously low on food.”

You laughed a little. “I think we can, if you’re up for it.”

“Okay, let’s go back inside.”

“You’re sure?” you asked, not wanting him to feel pushed into going back in.

“Yeah, she’s probably harmless.”

“You two are officially Benjamin and Y/n Barnes,” Hughie said, handing you the legal documents he had forged. “Your baby now has a last name.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “Well, get on in here; there’s alcohol on the table for everyone but me, and Ben started a betting pool for guessing the sex of the baby.”

“Did he really?” Hughie laughed, closing the door behind him.

“Yep,” you laughed back.

The baby shower had been going well so far. Hughie was a little late because of him getting the documents, but he joined the others in the living room as you did the same. You sat down next to Ben and he kissed you.

“Shit, was I supposed to bring a gift?” Hughie asked, seeing the pile in the corner of the room.

“You did; the forged legal documents,” you replied.

“We also bought them a stroller,” Annie told him. “It’s the big box.”

“And we are very grateful!” Ben assured them. “For the papers and the stroller.”

A sharp pain in your stomach made your teeth clench and you sucked in a sudden breath.

“You okay?” Ben asked you quietly. You nodded and he put his arm around your shoulder.

“You two settled on a name yet?” Frenchie asked.

“Actually we’d like some help in that department,” Ben said. “We’re still not sure.”

“If they’re a girl; Annie. If they’re a boy… Anno,” Annie laughed a little.

“Annie is a nice name, but I don’t think Anno even qualifies as a suggestion,” you replied, giggling.

“Alright, new game; everyone writes down actual suggestions and if we pick your suggestion you get a fraction of the betting pool,” Ben said.

“That sounds rigged,” Butcher chuckled.

Another sharp pain made you reach and squeeze Ben’s knee.

“Shit something’s wrong,” Ben mumbled. “Honey?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I- I’m gonna go get some water,” you replied. Before you could stand up Ben told you he’d get it for you.

“Love you,” he whispered and kissed your forehead before he left.

He brought you back a glass of ice water and you thanked him. As you held the drink another sharp pain ripped through your stomach and you dropped the cup, the clear glass breaking as it hit the floor.

“B-Ben?” you gasped.

“Oh god.” His eyes widened as he saw the blood beginning to stain the couch.

Part 3

#mind empty’s two hearts one home #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys tv #the boys fluff #by jean #by mind empty just fictional people

314 notes · View notes

ladamedusoif · 10 months

Text

20/20 - no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

(gif by @nicolethered)

Summary: After months of pestering from Sarah, Joel finally concedes that he might need to get his eyesight checked and makes an appointment at your optometrist practice. He really doesn’t want glasses, though.

Pairing: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Optometrist F!Reader

Content/Warnings: MDNI; 18+; not explicit as such but implied; no outbreak AU; Joel and reader are broadly around the same age; fluff; Joel in glasses is his own warning; me making stuff up about eye exams

Word Count: 1600 (this was supposed to be a drabble)

Notes: So @lunapascal and @julesonrecord decided I needed to atone for being incredibly thirsty for the sight of a certain someone putting on a pair of glasses. And voilà, a “glasses are hot” one-shot and my first attempt at Mr Miller.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. But they’re also fascinating little machines in their own right, and you should know: you’ve been running your own vision care clinic in Austin for almost twenty years, after qualifying as an optometrist and gaining experience for a couple of years at various chains.

Some people love finding out they’re going to get to wear glasses. Others? Not so much.

Your last customer of the day definitely falls into the latter category.

“Mr Miller?”

He looks around him in the empty waiting area, sighs, and stands up to join you in the testing suite. He looks like he’s being sent to the rack, not going for a routine eye examination. You introduce yourself and gesture towards the seat in front of your desk.

“So, Mr Miller -”

“Joel.”

“Joel. What brings you to the clinic today? You’re a new customer, have you just moved to the area?”

Joel looks uncomfortable, shifting in the seat. You guess he’s in his early fifties or so, salt-and-pepper hair and a patchy beard. He’s broad, still evidently a strong and well-built man. His denim shirt, embroidered with a logo that reads Miller Family Contractors, fits snugly but perfectly over his frame.

“No, not new to Austin. Been here my whole life. Just…new to the eye doctor.”

“I see.” You pull up his file on the computer system and note his age. “If you don’t mind me saying, Joel, you’ve done pretty well getting to this stage in life without needing some kind of sight correction. What’s changed?”

He exhales, and for the first time since he sat down he actually makes eye contact with you.

Holy shit. You look at irises and pupils and corneas all damn day. You admire and respect the human eye, but you didn’t think it had the same power of attraction over you. Turns out, it had just been a while since you’d seen eyes as beautiful as his.

Even in the shitty artificial light of the testing suite, you can see that Joel Miller’s eyes are a perfect dark brown: at times like black coffee, at times like fine whiskey, depending on the light. They’re warm and enticing, even without him trying. You notice, too, the laughter lines and wrinkles around those extraordinary eyes - here, despite his stern exterior and manner, is a man who smiles and laughs. Who knows happiness.

“My daughter… she made me. Said she was gettin’ sick of me holdin’ up my phone so I could see the screen, and of missin’ half the stuff in my shows because I was squintin’.”

“Ah, she sounds like a wise person. Well, Joel, let’s get going.”

You conduct the retinal exam and the glaucoma test, Joel flinching as the puffs of air hit each eye. When he almost drags himself off the stool to move over for the pupil reactions and visual acuity testing, you decide to just ask.

“Joel, is everything okay? Are you comfortable with the procedures I’m doing?”

He arranges himself in the chair, his broadness making the equipment look comically small. He flashes you another look with those big brown eyes.

“I…I don’t want glasses.”

It’s not the first time you’ve heard this. “It’s okay, Joel. If you need vision correction we can look at contacts, or even laser surgery if you think that might be an option.”

He grimaces.

“I don’t want pokin’ in my eyes, either. Or lasers pointed at them. Absolutely not.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Well, let’s hope you don’t need glasses, then, Joel Miller.”

You have to get up close to him for parts of the eye test, as normal. To your horror, you realise that every time you do so, you get a surge of desire. He smells of shaved wood, of pine soap, of peppermint, and of leather. You notice the smattering of freckles across the tan skin exposed by the snaps left open on his shirt. You can’t take your own eyes off his hands: big, broad, long, and strong.

Your mind immediately wanders to thinking about what those hands could do to you. Where they could go that you can’t reach with your own fingers, how they’d feel against your skin, reaching for you, groping at your tits as you -

You clear your throat and turn back to the lens unit, away from Joel, lest he see how flustered you are becoming. He’s got a daughter, you remind yourself. He’s got a wife, or a partner.

“Everythin’ okay?”

“Sure, yes, fine, Joel. Sorry, just trying a new lens combination.”

***

Of course he needs glasses. It’s not a very strong prescription, but he seems crestfallen as you talk him through it.

“Joel, I don’t want to be condescending but glasses are a minor hardship when you think of being able to see clearly again.”

For the first time, he cracks a smile. “I know, I know. I just - I dunno. I feel like I’m an old man now, with my glasses and my stiff knees and my tight back. That’s why I didn’t want them, I - vanity, I guess. Didn’t want to admit I was old.”

You smile in return, noting how kind and warm his expression was. “You’re not old, Joel. You look great.”

That was unprofessional.

He blushes. “Until I put the specs on, that is.”

You point to yourself. “I’m wearing contacts today so it’s easier for me to do my job, but in my downtime - I’m glasses all the way.”

He scoffs. “Different for you, though, you’d look pretty no matter what.”

“Pretty?”

Joel looks up at you from under his lashes. “I mean…yeah, you are. Probably even prettier in your glasses, too.”

It’s your turn for the heat to rise to your cheeks, but you can’t help smiling. “Let’s just double-check the last of the personal contact details before we go look at some frames. Says here your emergency contact is Sarah Miller but there’s no description of your relationship - is she your wi-“

“Daughter. Sarah’s my adult daughter. No wife, no girlfriend.”

You try not to smile too obviously. “My emergency contact is my younger sister. Same reason.”

As you print out Joel’s new prescription, there’s a knock on the door - Meghan, your assistant who usually looks after customers when they choose their frames.

“It’s closing time… you want me to stay late?”

You shake your head. “Of course not, Meghan. I think I’ll be able to help Mr Miller choose his new frames. If that’s okay with you, Joel?”

He smiles and turns to Meghan. “I think I’m in good hands.”

***

Joel studies the selection of frames on display in the main public area of the clinic, looking completely overwhelmed. He turns to you, shrugging helplessly.

“I don’t even know where to start. What would you suggest? You’re the expert.”

You move closer to study his features, taking in the size and shape of his face, the firm set of his jaw, the strong line of his nose, the softness of his lips.

Fuck, this is a beautiful man.

You catch your breath momentarily. “Many men who don’t want glasses choose the invisible frames, like these.” You hold up a pair of the lightweight style, placing them gingerly on Joel’s handsome face.

He studies himself in the mirror. “Not bad. Can’t even tell.”

“If I might suggest something, though?”

He nods. “You’re the expert, like I said.”

“I think your features could carry something a little stronger. More definite, more distinguished. Can I show you?”

You pick a couple of acetate frames from the rack, one in a dark caramel brown, the other in a sort of charcoal grey. You hold them out to Joel.

He wavers, and settles on the caramel pair. You watch as he examines the frames, before gently putting them on.

That’s when you give yourself away. The sight of that man putting on those glasses is so devastatingly sexy that you let out a tiny moan. Joel turns, the frames beautifully complementing his colouring and the darkness of his eyes, and it’s all you can do not to moan again.

“You okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine. You just look…very…”

He moves closer, a little smile on his face. “You sayin’ the glasses are doin’ it for you?”

You nod. “That pair, yes. Yes, I think they might be. I’m sorry, this is horribly unprofessional of me.”

He grins. “Can you explain what it is you like about them?”

You swallow hard, turning him to see himself alongside you in a mirror. “They’re stylish. They are strong. They’re distinguished. They’re very…masculine.” You let the next words slip before you can stop yourself. “In other words, they’re very you.”

Joel turns his back to the mirror, focusing on you. “Only because you found them for me. I’d never have tried somethin’ like this.”

“You glad you did?”

“I am. And I’m glad I came in to get my old eyes checked out by the prettiest optometrist in all Texas.”

You laugh, and he catches your hand to pull you in. Your fingers rest lightly on the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the taut denim underneath. You look at him expectantly.

“I know this is probably mighty unprofessional, but…”

You nod. “But I’ve already gone over the line, so…”

Joel leans in, frames still on, and kisses you: hot, hungry, deeply. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, returning his kiss with the same intensity. When you break away, you take his hand and lead him back towards the testing suite.

“More tests, darlin’?”

You arch an eyebrow as you pull him inside and close the door. “I suspect you’ll pass these with flying colours, Joel Miller. You don’t need 20/20 vision for what I’ve got in mind.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #no outbreak!joel miller #hbo the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us au #joel miller au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedrostories

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acorpsecalledcorva · 4 months

Text

Thanks to the amount of systems cringe stuff spamming this tag I finally gave in and had a look at what they're saying, great decision on my part, happy for myself and so grateful for the inspiration lmao.

Honestly fuck all the fake claiming stuff, that's old hat, I wanna talk about the reverse conspiracy theory stuff they got going on. Namely their new automod response to anyone that mentions RAMCOA. So uhhh trigger warnings for discussion on that.

That link for an "archive database"? It points to the Grey Faction website, the Satanic Temples replacement for the False Memory Foundation. It's kinda sad honestly, sparsely populated with old news about Colin Ross' eye lasers and 80s satanic panic stuff to completely discredit the ISSTD as the organisation stands today. They completely deny the concept of repressed memories and don't believe in DID at all, even if they try to hide it with carefully chosen language

Does this kinda stuff happen? Absolutely. But the issue is, unsurprisingly, nuanced and complicated.

The Body Keeps the Score has a great section on this. In one chapter the author recounts a patients sudden recollection of abuse memories after seeing their abuser having been arrested on television. The patient had spent their entire life having no recollection of these events, only for them suddenly to reappear in crystal clear and full sensory detail. It does sound kinda unbelievable, I mean we know how dubious and unreliable memory can be, how can these memories be preserved so perfectly outside of conscious awareness? Well the chapter goes on to explore accounts of traumatic memory around Shell Shock. As it turns out, veterans that didn't get Shell Shock often had very personalised accounts of the war, they would even romanticise their experiences spun as a narrative of personal valour and heroism. Shell Shock patients on the other hand had much more accurate and factual recollections that all corroborated with each other, it would be as if they were back there experiencing it as it was, as opposed to looking back on it from the present.

This is because of how memory is processed. A healthy processed memory is becomes part of your own personal narrative, how you feel about it, the lessons you learned from it, and how it relates to the rest of your life. A traumatic memory doesn't do this, because it is deemed as incompatible with personal narrative, impossible to feel anything about, and threatens the integrity of the rest of the psyche, it sits outside. Like lost luggage at an airport never opened and never claimed.

This isn't necessarily the case for traumatic memory in DID though, at least in a good number of cases what's preserved is the emotional memory, feelings of helplessness or betrayal, body sensations of things happening, but the details, the auto biographical recollection of events can be lost.

In fact, this is one of the key ways the false memory foundation claims have been debunked. You can install the memory of being lost in the mall to someone, but what you can't do is give someone PTSD symptoms around a false memory, those emotional and physical intrusions can't be implanted.

This is to say that the trauma is always real, it deserves attention and validation and treatment, but we do have to be careful about what we do with the content of traumatic memories. And you know what? This is 100% in line with ISSTD guidance for the therapy of patients with a Dissociative Disorder. Therapists are advised not to take disclosures of recounted traumatic memories too literally, not least of all because different alters might have different accounts of events. It can cause a lot of internal conflict and distress to believe one alter over the other and they can't all be right. So what you do is something called Processing. Here's a great video on that from the CTAD clinic

youtube

This all relates to the derealisation aspect is DID, and in fact, many have called it a disorder of multiple realities rather than multiple personalities. I guess it depends on which way you wanna look at it from the DPDR continuum. Because of the extreme compartmentalisation of action systems, traumatic memory can be chopped up and distributed among different parts. Some get the emotional memory, some get the physical memory, some transform the content of the memory into something that fits the personal narrative of their created identity. For instance am alter that believes they are a victim of witch trials may have memories of a mob with pitchforks and torches, or a wolf alter might have memories of being surrounded and trapped by hunters in someone who has trauma around severe playground bullying. The emotional experience is retained, but the biographical details are changed into something the brain hopes can be processed, even if it fails in doing so.

Where this gets very messy, is that you can take a compartmentalised emotional or physical intrusive memory, devoid of content, and be suggestible to details that might fill the blanks. This is largely what happened during the satanic panic. Imagining a potential form of abuse, while triggered, can attach those imagined details to the emotional memory. Heck, multiple alters can each attach their own individual narrative of details to the same emotional Intrusion.

And this is a very serious problem I've seen in the community. So many times someone will ask questions about a relatively normal DID experience, and someone will chime in with "well in my case it's the result of programming". This is such a fucking irresponsible and dangerous thing to do. We cannot suggest possible forms of abuse to scared and confused systems that are in the wake of being triggered. This can go SO badly. Many of us suffer from psychosis, paranoia can quickly turn into a full blown delusion, especially when we're talking about organisations of child trafficking and mind control.

Cults exist.

Trafficking organisations exist.

Abusive religious organisations exist.

There's no denial that this happens, but we absolutely cannot just go around suggesting that this might have happened to someone who hasn't yet processed their trauma.

This isn't about disbelieving people, or telling people they are wrong about their trauma, but directing towards what matters, stabilisation from destabilising thoughts during a terrifying and confusing time, grounding, and finding a safe space through which to process the painful emotions so that they no longer intrude on daily life.

Back to Systems Cringe and the Grey Faction, there's something to be said about how faith in institutions can completely broken when we forget, and are reminded, that they aren't some flawless entity but are made up of flawed people that make mistakes

But I think this comment sums up everything I would want to say on that

#syscourse

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vivitalks · 2 months

Text

[read on ao3]

"You okay?"

Lydia has her elbows on her knees. Sitting in the waiting room of Deaton's clinic, her blue dress paradoxically bright against the bland color palette of the room, she's a contradiction unto herself. She looks tired and shaken. She looks glad to be alive. She looks unprepared to believe that being alive is going to last.

"I've been worse," is how she answers him. Then, "I've also been better."

Stiles takes the empty seat beside her.

"Feels like we're always hovering in the middle there," he offers.

Lydia nods. "Ethan and Aiden are going to be okay."

"Thank God," Stiles deadpans. "I would have been heartbroken to lose them.”

Lydia gently shoves him. "They did the right thing in the end. They're not that bad."

Stiles only hums, drumming on his knee with restless fingers. A deafening silence crowds them in. Stiles reflects on the events of the last twenty-four hours and finds them alarming when compressed into such a small time frame.

"What's on your mind?" he dares to ask, after the quiet is almost insurmountably heavy. If Deaton is still in the exam room with the twins, they're being very quiet. Suspiciously so. Something for Stiles to check on, once he's done checking on Lydia.

Lydia who is smoothing out her dress with a persistence that could be called obsessive. Every motion creates a new wrinkle, and every time, Lydia flattens it under her thumb.

"Oh, you know." Her tone is light, but her twisting fingers betray just how uneasy she is. "Thinking about how the last time I was sitting in this waiting room, you were dead for sixteen hours."

Stiles takes that one to the solar plexus, though he's not sure how else it could be taken.

"I wasn't…really dead. It was more like a long sleep. A long, icy sleep."

"You stopped breathing." Lydia stares lasers into her knees. "You didn't have a heartbeat. Deaton kept saying it was okay, that this was normal, that if something was really wrong we would know, but he was lying, I could tell. He wouldn't let us near you guys — he said he didn't want us interfering with the process." A fist forms in her lap, creasing the folds of her dress. "Sixteen hours. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep. I just sat here. Waiting. Hoping Deaton wasn't full of shit."

"And he wasn't," Stiles says, morbidly upbeat. "We came back!"

"You don't get it," Lydia says, sounding angry and scared and deeply wounded all at the same time.

Stiles frowns. If she would just look at him, maybe he could read her expression, but he can't tell what she's thinking from the set of her shoulders. "So help me get it."

Lydia breathes out, out, out, expelling air like it's a toxic gas.

"Humans have a reflex," she says in a small voice, staring through her palms. "It prevents them from drowning until the last possible second. The survival instinct is so powerful that it overpowers the breathing instinct, even when holding your breath becomes excruciatingly painful. It's called—”

"Voluntary apnea," Stiles says dumbly.

Lydia looks up at him and nods once. Her green eyes latch onto his.

"You told me once that death happens to the people around you," she says, biting her lip. "I can't imagine how it must have felt to be in that ice bath…but can you imagine how it felt to be the one holding you down?"

Stiles is too dumbstruck to answer.

"I killed you. I did that. It doesn't matter that it was temporary. I didn't know that, we didn't know that for sure. I held you in that water until you died, Stiles." Her hands tremble. "You were dead for sixteen hours because of me. I was a murderer. For sixteen hours."

"Whoa whoa whoa, hey," Stiles says. His 'Protect Lydia Martin' instinct is back online and the alarm is blaring. He grabs her hands in both of his, keeping them still and warm.

"Okay, first of all, you didn't murder me. It was consensual drowning! If anything it was more like assisted suicide." Lydia glares. "Not helping. Right. Sorry. Um, but secondly, and— and way more importantly, Lydia, yeah, maybe you temporarily killed me, but you also— you brought me back to life."

She’s unmoved, he can tell, so he shakes her gently. "Yeah. You did that. Look, anyone can kill me. I'm not even six feet of fragile bones and zero muscle mass, and my best friend's a freakin' werewolf, okay, killing me is not impressive. Bringing me back? That takes something else. Something special, and only someone who—" He tries not to stammer but his tongue sabotages him, "who cares about me enough to bring me back to life could do that, and honestly, those are in short supply, so yeah. Maybe you were a temporary murderer, but you were also a savior. My savior." He smiles weakly. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Lydia holds his gaze. She holds his hands, too — not passively but decisively, clutching them like a lifeline, like she's the one who's drowning. Reflecting once again on the past twenty-four hours, it occurs to Stiles that he is not the only person for whom that stretch of time has been alarming.

"That's certainly a nicer way of looking at it," she yields softly. Then she shakes her head. "But it doesn't change the fact that in order to save you, I had to kill you." Now she weaponizes that arresting stare, seaglass green pinning him to his seat. "I'm never doing that again, you understand? I can't."

"I wouldn't ask you to."

"You don't know what it was like," she murmurs — seemingly talking to herself now, more than him, anyway. "Watching you. And I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything but sit there."

Something niggles Stiles's brain, that feeling he gets when a few different threads braid themselves into a discernible pattern. The emotional tether. Lydia's remorse. Sixteen hours of sitting and waiting.

"Sitting there was exactly what you were supposed to do," he realizes, also half to himself. It gets her attention anyway; she frowns at his conclusion. Stiles goes on: "An emotional tether, Deaton said, someone to bring us back, I didn't really get it, how that could work, but you just said it. You all just sat there. For sixteen hours. You waited. You stayed, so I had someone to come back to. The way only a tether could do. Think about it, right? If a fisherman casts a line and then walks away from the fishing pole, it doesn't matter whether he hooks a fish because no one is there to reel it in."

"Are you comparing yourself to a fish?"

"We were underwater, I was thinking about water, it was the first metaphor that came to mind, give me a break,” Stiles says defensively. "My point is, sixteen hours is a long time. Long enough to get bored, to lose faith, to give up and walk away and pronounce us dead. But you guys didn't. You didn't."

"Deaton said—”

"You just told me you thought Deaton was full of shit. But you stayed anyway, right?" Stiles presses, looking Lydia in the eye. "You had a feeling. Or maybe you just believed. Whatever it was, you stayed. That's how you brought me back. You thought you weren't doing anything, but you were doing the most important thing." He squeezes her hands. "You were waiting for me."

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vivian-at-home · 7 months

Text

OOTD

tldr: pushing boundaries, did some shopping for cheap chic, and thanking friends

I am really pushing boundaries lately with some androgynous bits here and some outright girly bits there. I am also growing my hair out, and I'm going to get one of those laser things because research tells me that's the way to go. I am trying to get a referral to the clinic from my doctor because the last time it got derailed by COVID.

I am daring to do things I never would before; like shopping openly in the ladies department, keeping my nails painted, wearing pinks and pastels and neutrals, more form fitting clothing. Nothing exotic at all, just exactly what other ladies my age wear (assuming they still have a body as hot as mine lol). Nice tight butt lifting jeans, Doc Marten boots and other androgynous shoes like grey slip on runners, henley shirts, anything girly I can get away with. I have a couple of new skirts coming and I can't wait to try them out, I also got a couple of new pushup bras that nothing is gonna hide that I might have to wait to try out lol, unless it's under a winter coat or baggy hoodie 😳 Trying to conciously wear a bra every day, even to work. Gradually replacing all my boxer briefs with those ridiculously comfy and flattering boy shorts, wearing the standard black and white check coat with poofy hoodies, my pink camo beanie for the coming cold, etc. I am just wearing what I want to wear, and if that's a pearl necklace and LBD with leggings, that's what I am wearing. 🌈

Please consider I'm not 'out' to any extant at all (just to my siblings and mother and a couple friends), but I have found that pretty much no matter where I go, no one really bats an eye, so I just keep pushing those edges. Even in my former male life I was a bit of a fashion whore, always trying new styles but trying to be classy and elegant, so now as a woman, with the massive range of stylish colourful comfortable flattering and yes sexy clothing to choose from, I am an artist with a whole new pallette. Or maybe a kid in a candy store lol.

I am also well aware that I might be a lot more out than I think at work, and no one said anything, I mean girls notice things just as much as guys do, but it doesn't exactly frighten me to push edges when no one says anything amiright. Some girls look at me funny now though, not a bad thing, they smile differently, something I have noticed that is really distinctive . . . 🤭 girls that never talked to me, especially younger ones, now do . . . it's still fearful baby steps though, but HRT is the moving walkway, and I am very close

I really need to learn how to do makeup better, and maybe not walk like a guy with places to go, rather more like a window shopping lady; and a few other things, but I guess what I am trying to say is that I am doing what my mother always taught me, to have the courage of my convictions. Some might say I am far too old, or worse yet a pretender, and it shames me to say I sometimes feel that way because I didn't pursue this long ago when I realized who I am, but I am proud of who I am today, and excited about where I am going, and dressing the part in public is now becoming an important part of that. I am nowhere near as far along as many people here, not even on HRT and not even close to living life as a woman, but one day soon . . . . I'm just so tired of living like people expect me to rather than how I want to portray myself. 💪 So damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead . . .

I want to thank all the friends here who have encouraged and inspired me to be my true self, your support and bravery means more than you know ❤ @crossdresserica @beingjamielynn @gymbunnycandiehart @livemyalter @becoming-who-ive-always-been @gladtobeagirl @jonextsteps @cd-christamae @cd-sherri

#transisbeautiful #trans positivity #be true to yourself

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weniswastelandwenis · 10 months

Text

FO4 Companions React to Sole Keeping Her Tapeworm Because it's Her Bodily Autonomy

Cait:

The day Sole broke the news to Cait that she was eating for two, Cait seemed confused at first, but then agreed with her decision completely. Those who were in qualms about Sole’s opinion reminded her of Tommy back at the Combat Zone whenever she would pop a mentat or two. He’d always offhandedly snark ‘That’s stuff’l kill ya, Cait’, to which she’d remark “So could a feral deathclaw round’ the corner the second you step outside! Live a little Tommy!”

Codsworth:

Asks Sole if they could repeat that? After much explaining, pauses, and finger snapping, Codsworth seemed to be broken from his trance, only to bellow out long mechanic weeps and cries. “If the Hubby/Mrs could see this right now, they would be heartbroken!” Sole knelt down, attempting to console their robot butler and explained it was all going to be ok; that this was their choice and if things got too bad, they would definitely seek medical help. That seemed to quell the tears and reduce them to robo-sniffles here and there. “I-If you’re sure…” ‘I am’ Sole says, beaming.

Curie:

Immediately gasps in shock and leads them to the nearest med clinic. She tells Sole the importance of being parasite-free in an already dangerous wasteland. As Sole is bent over in a hospital gown getting purified water pumped at 120 horsepower up there, Curie distracts Sole by recalling an interesting tale of her work at a human spay and neuter clinic.

Danse:

Makes a disgusted face, and takes a few steps to the left in his Power Armor. Sole explains how it is a matter of bodily autonomy, and how it’s not contagious, no matter how gnarly it sounds. Danse simply nods and his finger itches towards his laser rifle, then in one quick moment he opens fire, rounds shooting through Sole’s body and lodging into the metal shack wall behind them. “Godless heathen. The brotherhood would never allow such filth.” He spits at Sole lifeless body.

Deacon:

“I know a way to fix that!” Deacon said proudly, sunglasses glistening in the afternoon sun. He himself was full of worms, and used them for spying. “Go ahead and pull down those jorts.” Sole raises an eyebrow at this, but they trust their good friend Deacon and do as he suggested. After all, they wouldn’t have the flexibility or willpower to get the tube up there themselves. After some straining the tube enters their back barn door.

“Wowza! That’s a strange sensation!” Sole exclaimed. “Hold onto something steady,” Deacon said cautiously, the liquid tube dispenser in hand. “You’re going to need something to ground yourself when I squeeze this tube into your rectum. You have to hold the liquid in your backyard downtown zone for as long as possible. Once it’s in there you’re going to want to shit yourself into next week asap, but you have to hold it for as long as you can stand.”

The tube Deacon held was clearly pre-war tech and was pulled from a box that was dusty and faded. A woman with a stay-at-home mom nuclear bomb haircut with a big smile and a thumbs up was pasted on the front. Sole grasped a car bumper tightly in their hands and braced themselves. “Okay. Do your worst.” Deacon squeezed the tube and the igniting liquid whooshed up into Sole’s secret tube.

“FUUUUUUUUUCK!” Sole screamed, loud enough to wake the entire settlement. “Hold it in, bitch!” Deacon shouted with encouragement and pumped a fist in the air. “Every particle of my being wants to shit!” Sole screamed, holding their ass shut. Deacon looked at his watch and counted down with his fingers.

“Okay, Sole! Go!” He shouted and pointed to the nearby hole they dug in the dirt. Sole duck waddled as fast as humanly possible, holding their ass closed as sweat beaded down their face.

They could feel the inner workings of their ass growling and howling for mercy. There was an enraged beast inside them, approaching doom looming over them. They rounded the corner to the hole, where Hancock was already squatting, his pants around his ankles! “Occupied, sister/brother!”

Hancock:

Doesn’t even bat an eye, perhaps because he’s supportive of Sole’s decisions or perhaps he’s high as a kite and sees Sole as one giant worm anyway. They proceed to get zonked out of their minds all night, arguing over what the worm will be named, what college it will go to, and how many kids it will have. Fahrenheit occasionally interrupts them due to being too loud, to which the mayor simply reasserts his mayoral rights, and recites the United States Constitution all while standing on a coffee table and falls into Sole’s arms bridal style.

MacCready:

Side eyes Sole after they recall their tale, and states he should now be getting paid twice as much as he now has two employers. He also tries to bargain the tapeworm off of Sole’s body to sell it on the black market which angers Sole as it’s their decision to keep it, and to be honest they kind of grew fond of the little guy.

Valentine:

The detective side of his brain wants to know how the tapeworm got there in the first place, and how to stop Sole from infecting themselves with more in the future. He finds later on with his investigative skills that they gave themself the tapeworm to slim down their figure. Nick places a comforting hand on their shoulder as they cry in the rain when he confronts them. “You’ll always be a fine piece of ass in my book, worms or no worms.” He says tenderly.

Piper:

When Piper finds out that Sole will be keeping their tapeworm she is confused. At first she thought they’d be heading straight for the docs office and getting that thing flushed out. However Sole is firm in their decision and that it's their worms, their body. Piper can’t quite argue with that. She ends up writing news stories about Sole and their worm companion, until Sole slowly withers away.

Preston:

Doesn’t know what a tapeworm is. He has his own case of ringworm however, and once the settlements are taken care of they wrestle leisurely and pass the worms back and forth.

Strong:

“I TOO HAVE WORM!” Is all he says, and he doesn’t bring it up for the rest of the year.

X6:

Says nothing at first, just stares blankly until one night he offers Sole a coffee. Sole drinks the coffee and spends the rest of the night vomiting and shitting blood until they are tapeworm free. X6 smiles proudly from afar as they are rushed to a medic.

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andofone · 2 years

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SNS Rec

Just some sns fics i read and thought were amazing, i decided to put them on this list.

(if you see your work and don't want it on here, message me and I will take it down.)

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Growing pains by wisteria_hime:

Now in university, Sasuke is living with his childhood friends, Naruto and Sakura - who are happily dating, and very much in love. Sasuke never used to understand when people would say you cannot choose who you fall for. But life is a maze full of twists and turns you can't always predict, or always stop. His falling for Naruto was not unlike that of a rollercoaster; the sensation of being on top of everything, and then suddenly he was plummeting down. Hard, and fast, somewhat expected yet he never saw it coming. As adulthood looms closer, Sasuke tries to navigate through the maze and make it to the other side. The growing pains are only just beginning

(I loved this fic, it was so sad but great at the same time)

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I'm not your laser technician by daquitaine:

Naruto has had this stupid tattoo for far too long, so when he turns 18, getting it off his body is his first priority. But things get a little complicated when they throw him out of the clinic with nothing but a stolen (and slightly torn) business card.

**** Chat fic/ Wrong number — Highschool AU

+57 838 186 9274: I’d be a queen bee +57 739 188 0402: LMAAOOO WHAT +57 838 186 9274: That’s the bug I would be, a queen bee +57 739 188 0402: B E Y O N C E +57 838 186 9274: No, I’d be a queen bee +57 739 188 0402: Has anyone ever told you you look like Beyonce? +57 838 186 9274: What

(i smiled through the whole thing, it deserves so much more love than it gets. its adorable, funny, and probably one of my favorites on this list)

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Sweetest Poison by Cardil

Naruto is getting married to Hinata, and Sasuke's unrequited love towards his best friend has failed to get any weaker. When they drink something odd and his rinnegan spirals out of control, it connects their chakras, allowing them to feel the other's emotions. It seems they can't leave each other's side until the problem is fixed.

The link is only getting stronger, along with Sasuke's feelings

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Home by zeraporter:

Sasuke Uchiha has always wallowed in his pessimism and never knew what "home" truly meant. After his two plus years of atonement away from Konoha, he returns and his internal monologue spirals him into a world of confusion about the emotions he feels for his closest friend, Naruto Uzumaki. However, unsure of how to approach these emotions and whether or not they will be reciprocated, Sasuke treads delicately, deeply exploring his emotional longing for the blonde.

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Bite Me by KinomiAkai:

Sasuke is tired. Sasuke is hungry. Sasuke is...hunting again. Ugh. Vampire AU, SNS, will be explicit.

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All of my tears have been used up by MisfitKitsune:

Suigetsu doesn’t get it.

Sasuke is laughing like a lunatic, and every person within a miles radius shoots them uncomfortable and weird looks.

He looks at the informant who also appears very distressed and confused, and it gives Suigetsu the impression he didn’t say anything remotely funny.

But Sasuke continues to laugh like he’s heard the best and worst joke of his life, and Suigetsu really doesn’t get it.

(this broke me try to read it)

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homesick for a mountain's song by kintou:

Sasuke tries to get away from the world by buying an abandoned house on a mountain. Naruto, tired from his long days in Konoha, gets a little too excited about growing vegetables in Sasuke's garden.

(this fic is good, i read it soo many times)

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Enter Naruto by KinomiAkai:

Sasuke's a writer whose been writing the same words for years. He's tired, he's annoyed, and his money situation is...pretty messed up, even by student standards.

Enter Naruto.

(KinomiAkai again, their a good writer!)

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To Turn Over a New Leaf by sighexe:

Naruto has feelings for Sasuke, Sasuke has feelings for Naruto. But nothing between them has ever been simple. So what happens when someone else takes an interest in the clueless blond?

(kinda angsty, but really good!)

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Heaven Envies Your Melodies by furorem:

While Sasuke goes on a journey, Naruto begins to build a home.

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Bound To You by Tandy_Hard:

It's 1928, a year before the crash on Wall Street. Naruto and his best friend Gaara are trying to survive the dangerous streets of New York while the wealthy elite that surround them ride the wave of the big economy boom. While everyone vies for a piece of the pie, the Uchiha Clan, who has set up their crime syndicate in Brooklyn, battle it out with other Japanese Clans for control of the borough. After a run-in with Uchiha Sasuke, Naruto is faced with coming to terms with his feelings for Sasuke. Should he stay and work for the crime boss or leave New York with Gaara for a new life in California?

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NaruSasu Hanahaki by orphan_account:

Naruto develops hanahaki from his one sided love towards his best friend Sasuke. The disease puts him through a lot, if makes his life hell; that is until it eventually takes it. Leaving Sasuke broken. Also Sakura is an interloper.

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Two Wrongs Make a Right, Right? by laziedaisies:

Naruto is an alpha that wishes to be an omega and have children of his own, but he's found a way to find something close that he's happy with.

At least he had until he meets another alpha that brings all of that yearning right back out of him

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The Blizzard by JKirin:

Naruto is a peasant boy in love with Hinata - an heiress of a very important family in the village. In fear of her father's disapproval, they elope to get married in secret but an unexpected blizzard gets in the way of their plans. For better or worse, it changes the course of Naruto's life. SasuNaru one shot , AU

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the sins you pay for by kayeeyooblue:

the walls of sasuke uchiha's apartment are dripping with layers of paint. it seems the only colors he knows how to use are red and black. sometimes, naruto wonders if sasuke has ever known any other color, or if his life has only ever consisted of blood and death. but he can't ask, and there is no answer, so he sits and watches the paint dry and waits for sasuke to begin again.

--- Warmth by noceux:

Naruto has mental illnesses such as PTSD, ADHD, and minor depression. He worked hard to get into a university. He then soon meets Sasuke at a party and doesn’t like him at all.

Sasuke is a bastard who can't stand loud and annoying people, Hence, like Naruto. What will happen when Sasuke had to tutor Naruto and how will Sasuke react after finding out about Naruto’s past and why the blond acts so obnoxious?

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Give us our Daily Ramen by KizuKatana:

Naruto runs an underground newspaper called 'The Daily Ramen', focused on poking fun at the fragile egos of the rich and famous. How does Sasuke respond when he moves to town and gets in Naruto's crosshairs? Not particularly well. Sasuke x Naruto (Yaoi boy x boy)

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Kamikaze by Tandy_Hard:

Naruto stepped inside the opulent manor and wondered what the fuck he was doing here. “Shika!” A cute blonde in pigtails grabbed his friend Shikamaru’s arm and pulled him deeper into the crowd of party-goers. “Ya gotta be kidding me,” Naruto mumbled and tugged on the straps of his backpack. “Mingle!” Shika called back to him and was then sucked away. Mingle? How the fuck was he supposed to mingle when he didn’t know anyone? Naruto’s eyes slid from left to right, everywhere faces and not a one, familiar.

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by his side by xKweenx:

“You want to be by his side. You two...really do love each other. ”

Naruto and Sasuke stayed quiet

Boruto balled his fist, keeping his gaze on the floor

“And I got in the way of it”

--- Red Ring by Nomme_dePlume:

He turned the tap off and reached for a towel, wiping it over his face. He rubbed lightly at his eyes first, then brought the towel lower, opening his eyes to see his reflection as the towel wiped over his nose and mouth. A slight discoloration on his finger caught his attention, so he dropped the towel and brought his left hand up for closer inspection – only to find a thin, red ring around his left ring finger. Eyes wide, Naruto stared at his hand and opened his mouth, words failing him momentarily until he found what he was looking for. “Sakura!”

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Secret Love by Dhampir (Dhampire):

AU! Sasuke enjoys his quiet, reclusive life as a historian and professor at Boston University. He spends his days alone and content among his books translating and delving into his love, ancient Japanese history and lore. Everything is just how he likes it until a blue-eyed, blonde-haired man changes everything.

Updates on Thursdays! ^_^

To those waiting, and you know who you are, it’s safe to come back now ^_~ -----------

Sasuke’s fury built as he rounded the corner to confront the idiot before he had him banned from the university library for life. The other occupant stood with his back to him, dressed in jeans and a garish orange jacket with a baseball cap on his head. “Do you have any idea the damage you have caused to—” His words halted as the man turned towards him, azure eyes wide and contrite as he flinched at Sasuke’s acidic tone.

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hope this gives you some good reads!

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imreallyloveleee · 2 years

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“Jughead?”

At the sound of his name, Jughead shoves his phone into his back pocket, looks up, and freezes.

The woman standing in the doorway — with a bouncy blonde ponytail, collared sweater, and the greenest eyes he’s ever seen — is not what he’d envisioned when he scheduled a consultation with a tattoo cover-up specialist.

“Jughead Jones?” she repeats, sounding slightly unsure this time.

“Yeah, no, that’s me.” He clears his throat as he rises to his feet, and she smiles.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Betty.” With a wave of her hand, she leads him into a small room at the back of the shop, gesturing towards the black tattoo chair in the corner for him to take a seat. “And you’re looking to cover up a back tattoo, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Great.” Betty blinks at him for a moment, then asks, “So can I see it?”

“Right. Yeah, of course.” With a slight shake of his head, Jughead pulls his t-shirt over his head, taking care to ensure his gray beanie doesn’t come off with it.

He twists around so she can see the tattoo in question, a name spelled out in black script across his left shoulder: Jessica.

“Okay,” Betty says after a brief pause. “So this is either going to be fairly easy or really hard, depending on what you want.”

Jughead cranes his head over his shoulder to see her, and immediately regrets it. From a distance, she was distractingly pretty; up close, she’s dazzling.

Turning back towards the wall, he says, “Easy, please.”

“Oh — so you don’t have a design in mind?”

He glances at her again. “Not really. Was I supposed to?”

“Well, usually, but — we can work together on something. That actually might make it easier. Some people come in with, like, a big black Celtic knot on their chest and think I can magically turn it into a field of yellow daisies.”

Betty smiles again, and Jughead feels his insides turn to goo.

Goddammit.

He’s here to erase the final vestiges of his latest romantic entanglement — not knot himself up in a new one. Especially not with the woman doing the erasing, for that matter.

“Of course, you could also go the laser removal route, if there’s nothing you’re excited to replace it with,” she continues, oblivious to the fact that she’s utterly charming him with nothing more than what is probably her standard spiel for new clients. “But since it’s black, you’re probably looking at at least ten to twelve sessions, and there still might be kind of a smudge left there at the end.”

Jughead had in fact looked into laser removal, and come to the similar conclusion that driving over an hour back and forth to the dermatology clinic in Greendale a dozen times was an exorbitantly long amount of time to spend undoing a decision that he’d made in roughly ten seconds. Besides, spending more time around Betty hardly seems like a chore.

“I’m sure we’ll come up with something I’m excited about.”

Betty leaves the room, returning with an armful of books and binders filled with design ideas. “See if anything in these inspires you, and I’ll tell you if it’s doable,” she explains.

To his surprise, rather than leaving Jughead alone to peruse the artwork, she settles back into the chair opposite him and begins to flip idly through one of the books herself. “Feel free to tell me if I’m being too nosy,” she says lightly, “but sometimes it’s helpful with creating a new design if I know the story behind the old one.”

Jughead cringes — he’d figured this was coming. “There’s not much of a story,” he admits. “My now-ex-girlfriend and I did shrooms on a weekend trip to the city and she somehow convinced me to get her name tattooed across my back while I was tripping balls.”

Betty clucks her tongue in disapproval. “A decent artist wouldn’t tattoo a guy who shows up tripping balls.”

“A decent artist wouldn’t get the phone number of the girlfriend whose name a guy was getting tattooed across his back,” he replies. “And a decent girlfriend wouldn’t text him for a booty call literally the next day. But that’s why she’s an ex-girlfriend, not a decent girlfriend.”

Betty snorts, immediately followed by a soft gasp as she claps her hand across her mouth. “I’m sorry. That’s not funny.”

Jughead grins as he flips to the next page in his book. “No, it is. And it was months ago, I’m over it. You’re welcome to viciously mock me for my poor decision-making skills. Everyone else in my life already has.” Chief among them being his sister, JB, but even his best friend Archie — who himself harbored a laundry list of embarrassing romantic mishaps — had got in a few good digs.

“I have one rule: I don’t make fun of my clients,” Betty insists, though the slant of her mouth suggests otherwise. “But maybe it’ll make you feel better to know that you’re not alone.”

“Honestly, it makes me feel like a cliche.”

“Well, everyone deserves a second chance.”

Something about the way she says it draws his gaze back to her face, but her own eyes are trained down on the pages in her lap. Jughead feels a sudden, desperate urge to know more about her.

“Feel free to tell me if I’m being too nosy,” he begins slowly. “But most tattoo artists I’ve met are pretty much covered in tattoos themselves.”

A faint pink flush rises on Betty’s cheeks as she meets his questioning gaze. “How do you know I’m not?”

It’s a fair point. The only bare skin she has on display is that of her hands, her neck, and her face.

But the mere suggestion of more — the thought of peeling away her clothes to find the warm, smooth, inked up skin beneath — is too much for him to handle right now.

With a sly twist to her lips, Betty holds one arm out towards him, pushing back the sleeve of her sweater to reveal the underside of her wrist. What looks like the curled end of a dragon’s tail peeks out from the edge.

“My parents strongly disapprove, so I don’t get inked anywhere that I can’t cover up with my clothes. It’s silly, but makes visits home a lot easier to bear.” She shrugs. “And it’s cold out today.”

Jughead swallows. “That’s a shame. Just that little bit of it looks pretty cool.”

“Maybe I’ll let you see the whole thing when you come back for your next appointment.”

Betty holds his gaze for a beat. Then — to his horror — she bursts into laughter.

She presses her palms to her cheeks, which have grown bright red. “I’m so sorry. I’m not normally this…I didn’t mean for that to sound like…god, you must think I’m so unprofessional.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” Jughead laughs, too, certain his own red-hot face matches hers. “I — well, I’d like that.” He closes the book in his lap, leaning slightly forward. “Maybe we could keep working on a design over drinks tonight?”

Betty presses her lips together, her nose scrunching up adorably. “I actually have two rules. I also don’t date my clients.”

Jughead shoots her a crooked smile. “Then I guess I’ll have to go with the laser removal, after all.”

#bughead #bughead fic #jughead jones #betty cooper #riverdale #riverdale fic #lolol i should be writing one of my 80 WIPs but i could not get this au prompt out of my head so here we are #also i love jessica and the thought of her chaos rubbing off on jughead #i hope u enjoy!! <3 #oh also i don't have any tattoos but i can only assume if someone showed up with zero ideas the artist would be like gtfo #but it's jughead! he's cute! she can't resist him!

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superman86to99 · 1 month

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Superman: The Man of Steel #35 (July 1994)

"WORLDS COLLIDE," Part 1! And "THE FALL OF METROPOLIS," Part 2! And a Wonder Woman crossover! And a long-time character dies, as spoiled by the cover! This issue might be peak '90s. This is the most '90s you can cram into 22 pages without the comic exploding.

Things are a bit rough in Metropolis after Lex Luthor's main lackey launched some missiles that destroyed almost every building in the city (Action #700). Keith the Unlucky Orphan and his friends are trying to gather food from what's left of their orphanage, when a bunch of gangsters with machine guns show up to steal everything, reminding us why we call him Keith the Unlucky Orphan. Luckily, though, the kids are protected not just by Keith's pal Superman but by Myra, the Orphanage Lady, who decides to keep a couple of those machine guns in case the ruffians return.

Combined with the scars she got on her face after saving Keith from an hypnotic lizard lady last issue, Myra is only some shoulder pads away from looking like a badass '90s anti-hero.

While Superman tries to help people around the ruins of Metropolis, a Giant Robot That Shoots Death Lasers From Its Chest (GRTSDLFIC) emerges from the ground and starts creating more ruins. The monster runs into Keith and the other orphans, so Myra bravely stands in front of it with her new toys and tries to distract it.

And she does! For about a second.

As he holds Myra's body, Keith yells out for Superman, who arrives right in time to save him from getting death lasered too. The Special Crimes Unit also stops by to help, and the GRTSDLFIC turns out to be smart enough to target Maggie Sawyer out of all of the officers because it can tell she's the top dog (or maybe it's just homophobic, dunno). Superman saves her, because one strong female supporting character death is enough for this issue.

Superman realizes the GRTSDLFIC is alive and needs to breathe, so he flies it up into orbit to take out its air and leaves it suspended there while he goes deal with other problems. (Presumably by also throwing them into orbit, like usual.) Meanwhile, Keith begs Maggie and SCU to take Myra to the hospital, but it's too late for her. The kid has an understandably tough time accepting that another mother figure has left him.

RIP, Myra the no-nonsense orphanage lady. When we met her back in Man of Steel #1 (1991), I don't think anyone guessed that she'd die wielding dual machine guns while facing a Giant Robot That Shoots Death Lasers From Its Chest. But we should have, dammit. We should have.

Plotline-Watch:

So, wait, why is this part of a crossover called "Worlds Collide"? Because a whole 5 pages are devoted to Lois Lane's mailman, Fred Bentson, who is still having weird nightmares where he finds himself in another universe. Professor Hamilton meets Bentson at a Red Cross shelter and takes him to a clinic to treat his sleep disorder, which involves becoming immaterial while he sleeps and being haunted by an inter-dimensional monster. At the clinic, some rather shady psychologists hook Bentson up to a machine that can project his dreams, and they all see him naked as he's chased by the nightmare monster and tries to get help from... STATIC?!

By the way, the shady sleep clinic happens to be located right under the bridge that was half-destroyed during Superboy's fight with that Spider-Man wannabe called Stinger almost a year ago, which is still half-destroyed. At least it doesn't stand out from the rest of the city anymore (thanks, Dr. Happersen!). The half-bridge will be a relevant plot point during this storyline.

And why is this a Wonder Woman crossover? Because she appears for a single panel while Superman is fighting the Giant Robot and wishes she'd picked another issue to come ask for his advice. The comic tells us to buy Wonder Woman #88 (which briefly shows WW helping Superman against the robot) for the rest of the story.

On that subject, Don Sparrow says: "Superman doesn’t appear very prominently in the connected issue of Wonder Woman #88. All that happens is Wonder Woman requests that Superman stop her if she ever loses control of herself. It’s not a great issue, largely because Christopher Priest writes both Diana and Superman fairly out of character throughout, and the art in the issue manages to depict Wonder Woman as both matronly and pervy. (The issue also features the choice line of dialogue “female be trippin’”, so if you don’t rush out and find the issue, you’re not missing much, apart from another great Bolland cover featuring Superman)."

Yes, the Keith stuff is pretty depressing, and could be seen as another example of Superman comics going all "Dark Age," but at least it'll lead to positive things for the character in the near future. Now, those other orphans who lost Myra, not so sure...

Patreon-Watch:

The results of the Superman/Doomsday: Hunter/Prey bonus artwork poll are in, and after tallying up the votes here and at Patreon, the character who will get drawn by the great Don Sparrow is... Maxima, in her post-Doomsday purple suit! Who won by a whole vote! (For those keeping count: 5 votes for Red Cyborg, 10 for Pouch Superman, and 11 for Purple Maxima.)

Don's work will be posted for all to see, but the original artwork will be given away to one of our patrons, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, Gaetano Barreca, and Dave Shevlin. If you'd like to decrease their chances, join them at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99!

And speaking of Don, stick around for his section, after the jump...

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

It’s an interesting cover, with the protagonist and even the title trade dress obscured by shadow. It’s not really an action-type pose, but Superman’s angry expression indicates that action will follow. We also get a hint at the tragedy within, with an injured Myra Allen below Superman.

Inside the book, we get our first glimpses of post-cataclysm Metropolis, seen through the eyes of hard-luck Keith. The double page spread on pages 2 and 3 is a great drawing of Superman, exuding power even in a static pose.

The cybernetic monster, who in this issue gets neither a name, nor an origin (unless the story’s title, Afterburn, is maybe the robot’s name?) but it’s an appropriately Fleischer studios-like design for Bogdanove to draw.

Normally I quite dislike photo-stat backgrounds, but the panel with Superman carrying survivors gets a pass from me, because I love images of Superman saving kids—especially the way Bogdanove draws it.

Myra Allen’s last stand against the robot is stirringly drawn, and to me visually recalls Frank Miller and Dave Gibbons’ “Martha Washington Goes to War” which was hitting newsstands around this time. It’s interesting to see Bogdanove’s version of the famed Brian Bolland pose from Wonder Woman #72, even if she’s facing away.

Keith’s grief at Myra’s passing is as powerful and sad an image as we’ve ever seen in these books, and my heart breaks for the poor little guy (look at his little hand clutching the cape! What an astonishing detail!). Though he’s fictional, it’s hard not to feel for him, when he’s endured so much tragedy in his young life. I appreciate the restraint here, from a story standpoint—Superman offers no words of comfort, or guidance at what comes next, because they would only be trite and empty in a moment such as this. All Superman can do, he does—which is to hold Keith, and let him weep.

Our final cameo of the book is Milestone’s Static, another character Bogdanove seems born to draw. The introduction to him, as the milquetoast Bentson jumps to the Milestone world is fittingly energetic.

SPEEDING BULLETS:

I appreciate the detail early on that Superman has put “a lot of time into locating” gas leaks and shutting them down. It’s nice that the writer considered something like that.

We’ve known for a while that the DCU version of Coca-Cola is Soder, but nice to be informed that Sprite is called “Spritz” here.

Professor Hamilton is perhaps a bit casual about the fact that Bentson was briefly immaterial! [Max: Maybe he's like "Have I been immaterial before? Maybe during the Husque storyline? Don't remember..."]

The great Jose-Luis Garcia Lopez gets a sort of shout out on page 7, as a fresh fruit stand bears his name.

At the time of this issue’s release I remember being very curious about the Milestone characters, and excited about them crossing over with my favourite character, but I still question the choice of having an uninteresting character like Bentson be the initial conduit between the worlds. Maybe if the previous issues had established him as a recognizable Metropolis fixture (as well as Dakota City) like Whit or Allie or someone, it would have a little more impact (though they do try to build up his importance here, as the mailman who delivered the damaging evidence about Lex Jr.). But I find it hard to really care about the Egon-looking guy, particularly when he’s running around naked.

#superman #louise simonson #jon bogdanove #dennis janke #worlds collide #keith #myra #fred bentson #emil hamilton #maggie sawyer #special crimes unit #wonder woman #static #static shock #milestone media #fall of metropolis #giant robot that shoots death lasers from its chest #superman throwing his problems into orbit #wonder woman be trippin'

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